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a masterpiece still in the making

Summary:

Rebecca Harper has yet to find her place in the world. After an alchemical accident took her father's life, she finds herself in East City, intending to just settle his debts, but somehow ending up employed as a State Alchemist and partnered with one Edward Elric. Surprising herself, she can't find it in herself to be upset about it.

Notes:

hello, my dears, and welcome! this has been a long time coming, and honestly, quarantine was just what i needed to get my butt in gear to finally get all these ideas i've had concerning the basis of this story out on paper (or on the computer, i guess).

honestly, the entire premise of this story came from me listening to the song 'wanderer's lullaby' by adriana figeuroa (which i obviously do not own). it reminded me a lot of ed and al, and i came up with this girl who heard that song from her loved one and keeps it in her heart all through her journey, and this story is what eventually came out of my late night musings. i won't promise it will remain unedited, but here's the initial attempt.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: monachopsis

Notes:

hello, my dears, and welcome! this has been a long time coming, and honestly, quarantine was just what i needed to get my butt in gear to finally get all these ideas i've had concerning the basis of this story out on paper (or on the computer, i guess).

honestly, the entire premise of this story came from me listening to the song 'wanderer's lullaby' by adriana figeuroa (which i obviously do not own). it reminded me a lot of ed and al, and i came up with this girl who heard that song from her loved one and keeps it in her heart all through her journey, and this story is what eventually came out of my late night musings. i won't promise it will remain unedited, but here's the initial attempt.

monachopsis (noun)- the subtle but persistent feeling of being out of place

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Sitting in front of Colonel Roy Mustang’s desk, Rebecca Harper had never felt smaller. She resisted the urge to lean away from his intense stare until he raised a brow and informed her, “I knew your father from the academy. He was one of my teachers.” He paused, seemingly waiting for a response, then continued when she just nodded. “You won’t be getting any special treatment from me for it.”

Becca bit her lip. “I know, sir.” She stared down into her lap, feeling the calm before the storm as Mustang stood and walked around the desk, stopping behind her.

“Are you planning on telling me why you did it?” he said coolly.

Becca flinched, inhaling sharply. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Mustang slammed his hand onto the desk, making Becca jump. “That is not what I asked, Harper!” he snapped.

Feeling herself begin to shake while her lip quivered, Becca choked back a sob. Her father never let her cry, and she was sure her new superior officer would be the same. “He told me to,” she confessed weakly. “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.” She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the memory that kept fighting to the surface.

The colonel froze. Becca looked up, taking in his shocked face. She’d surprised him.

“He’d heard about Fullmetal- what everyone thought he did,” she continued. “He wanted that, but he- he must have misunderstood-” She reached up, wiping her eyes to try and hide her tears. "He wanted it to be me, who- who-"

She recoiled when she felt a hand come down on her shoulder. “That’s enough,” Mustang said, then repeated quieter, “That’s enough.” The colonel moved to sit back down in his chair, then rested his chin on outstretched fingers. Becca continued to shudder, slowing her breathing until she could bear to look up and look her superior in the eye.

“I’m sorry,” she said again before Mustang held a hand up. He rummaged in his papers until he found a manilla folder, which he passed over the distance between them. Becca pulled the papers out, then shook out the silver pocket watch.

“It’s noon. Go get something to eat and calm down,” he instructed sternly, leaning back in his desk chair. “Be back here in an hour to receive orders.”

Becca stood, the dismissal clear as day. “Thank you, sir.” She bit her lip and stood to leave before Mustang’s voice stopped her.

“Youngest female State Alchemist ever. Your father would be proud.”

Becca took a shaky breath and shot him a bitter smile. “No, he wouldn’t be, sir. He’d be mad someone else got there first.”

As she opened the door, she heard Mustang say, “I never liked your father, Illusion.”

She looked over her shoulder, then nodded and mumbled, “That’s understandable, sir.”

---

Even though Mustang had told her to eat something, Becca’s stomach turned just at the thought of food. She’d barely been eating since the transmutation, normally having two small meals at the beginning and the end of the day, but any time she tried to eat any more, she’d found herself over a trashcan within the hour. So, after washing her face in the bathroom, Becca plodded outside to sink onto a bench outside Eastern command. Her fingers curled against the watch she’d slipped into her pocket. Her codename flew through her head. The Illusion Alchemist. She clipped it onto her belt and checked the time, huffing when she realized how little time had passed.

Becca relaxed for a moment, then felt her heart drop when she realized her certificate was the only paper she felt in her pocket. She patted around to her other pockets and sighed in relief as she gripped the only two other papers she’d taken from home: the letter she’d received from the military demanding her presence and a picture of a younger version of herself sitting alongside her stepmother and half brother. She pulled out the picture, gazing over the happy trio that once had been. William had come here years ago, she knew, but he’d never come home, nor had he ever written. She’d been upset, of course, but after Louisa had died, she just wanted him back, moreso now than ever.

“...And of course, the bastard’s probably just calling me in to yell at me over my report,” Becca heard someone complain. She looked up and her eyes widened upon seeing the small figure draped in a red cloak crossing the courtyard with someone in a suit of armor.

The echoey voice from the armor said something in response, but Becca was too busy staring to listen.

That’s him, she thought blankly. That’s the Fullmetal Alchemist.

She knew people in East City tended to think that the armored man was the Fullmetal Alchemist, but Becca’s father had drilled it into her head that he was hardly older than her and being any less than he was rumored to be was unacceptable. She stood up, about to go and meet him before she came to her senses and quickly sat back down. He has nothing to do with you anymore, she told herself firmly. Leave him alone. You’re here to work off the debts and go home. Shaking her head, she bent forward and rested her head in her hands, contemplating where she’d find a bed for the night until she was due to return to the colonel.

---

Becca paused outside of the outer office. She could hear the usual hustle and bustle of an office through the door, but she picked up on shouting as well. She raised her hand and knocked twice before being welcomed in by the youngest member of Mustang’s team, the bespectacled man who’d been tinkering with a radio when she was ushered in by Mustang the first time. She gave him a polite smile, then looked over when there was a loud thud from the inner office. Becca raised an eyebrow and opened her mouth to ask a question, but was cut off by someone yelling.

"-definitely not someone like that !”

Becca paled, realizing both who was talking and who he was probably talking about. Mustang murmured something on the other side of the door, as well as the echoey voice Becca recalled from outside, but Becca was practically rooted in place. The others in the office seemed to have noticed as well and shot her pitying looks, but Becca’s nerves were already beginning to turn to anger boiling in her stomach. Who was Edward Elric to judge her? They’d committed the same sin! Lieutenant Hawkeye glanced at her and gestured for her to approach the door to Mustang’s private office. She knocked once, making the voices inside go quiet. 

Hawkeye opened the door quickly. “Rebecca is here for her orders,” she said firmly, leaving no room for argument.

Mustang, clearly at the end of his rope with the blonde in front of him, sighed. “Illusion, take a seat.” He looked up and requested, “You as well, Fullmetal.”

Becca nodded, making her way to one of the couches without a word and practically biting her tongue when Edward Elric shot her a glare. The armored man had turned towards her as well, but Becca couldn’t tell what he was thinking due to his covered face. Elric stomped over to the other couch and kicked his feet up onto the table between them.

“Now I’m sure you two don’t want to be here any more than I want you here,” Mustang said. “So let’s get this out of the way.” He flipped through a file nonchalantly before looking up at them. Becca felt her stomach lurch with anxiety a millisecond before he declared, “As Fullmetal has already been informed, I’ve assigned you two to be partners.”

Becca choked. “Excuse me?”

Mustang looked infuriatingly unsurprised. “You’re about the same age and I think you two will work well together once you get to know each other.” He gave them both a look. “I will not be hearing any arguments right now. If you go on a few missions and it’s not working, we can discuss it then.” He turned his level gaze over to a fuming Elric. “For now, I’m still working on digging up a lead for you and Alphonse, so feel free to explore the city a bit,” he said condescendingly. Becca made a face at his tone. Even though she didn’t like Elric, she knew how frustrating it could be to be spoken to like that.

The boy gnashed his teeth in response, looking like he was about to scream at Mustang again. Becca looked over towards Hawkeye, but her eyes caught on the armored man, assumedly Alphonse, who had moved to stand sentry next to the Lieutenant. Despite his covered face, Becca got the strangest feeling he would be smiling at her. She smiled in what she hoped was a response before Elric appeared to get his temper under control and settled for snapping, “We don’t have time to explore. Al and I will be in the library,”, storming out.

Alphonse moved to follow, then called out after Elric, startling Becca once she was finally able to hear his voice clearly.

“Sorry, sir,” a distinctively child-like voice said quickly, giving the colonel a bow and followed the boy.

Becca stared after them, then shifted her stare toward Mustang. “Wha-?”

“That, unfortunately, is not my place,” he said. Becca was about to protest, push for more information, but she saw the tired look in his eyes and opted to back off.

She gave a polite nod and said, “Thank you for your time, Colonel Mustang,” then made a quick exit, hoping she’d be able to catch Elric before he got too far.

---

Luckily, Becca was able to track down both Elric and his companion exactly where he said they’d be: the East City Library. Becca had passed it on her way to the command center, but she hadn’t had time to check it out yet. She was thanking whoever was upstairs that she didn’t pack a suitcase, given that there hadn’t even been time to drop anything off at a hotel, but that did mean her long coat was growing heavier the longer she wasn’t able to take it off.

She didn’t catch up to Elric until he had already reached the library, given that she had to ask for directions from several passersby, then had to ask an attendant where him and his companion had gone. She approached the area they’d taken over and leaned against a table nearby. Elric didn’t bother to acknowledge her, but Alphonse looked up and inclined his head towards her.

“You don’t have to stand there,” he said invitingly, moving a few papers out of the way to clear a spot at the table for her.

Becca gave him a tight smile, swinging her coat off and sitting down before sticking her hand out. “Rebecca Harper,” she said, choosing not to comment on the owner of the voice yet.

The armor creaked as he shook her hand. “Alphonse Elric.”

Upon hearing his last name, Becca raised an eyebrow and asked, “Elric?”

Elric’s face swiveled towards her and he snapped, “He’s my younger brother.”

Becca nodded slowly as he went back to his work. She looked over at Alphonse, wondering how exactly such a young person wore such a large suit of armor, then decided not to ask and let her eyes fall to her lap. She hadn’t brought any books or notes, so she stood up, intending to escape the awkward silence for a few minutes by searching around for something to read.

“Excuse me,” she said, Louisa’s voice in her head reminding her to keep her manners. No one responded, both boys too involved in whatever they were reading, and Becca sighed and hurried away. She finally slowed down, strolling down one of the aisles toward a large window overlooking the streets of East City. It wasn’t busy, given that almost everyone was either working or at school, but a few slow moving stragglers from the lunch hour remained. She was about to turn back to the books when someone caught her eye. Becca’s eyes narrowed as she tried to get a better look at the blonde man leaning against a building across the street. He seemed to be scanning the library windows as she watched until he looked in Becca’s direction. Becca couldn’t see his eyes from this distance, but she got the odd feeling that he was watching her as well. Something nagged at her in her mind, but before she could look closer, the man stood up straight and started walking away, leaving Becca staring after him. She slowly went back to the books, unable to shake the nagging in her head until she had a book in her hand and was settling down to read in silence with the Elric brothers.

---

Hours later, the trio was basically kicked out at closing time, with Becca and Edward still having barely spoken a word between them. Becca and Alphonse had conversed civilly during breaks Becca took, but the elder Elric had hardly looked up. Becca had asked Alphonse if he was ignoring her, but he’d assured her that, even if he was upset, he was normally like that when reading. However, it quickly became significantly more uncomfortable to walk in silence than it had been to sit in the same manner until Alphonse broke it by asking, “Where are you planning on staying, Rebecca? You’re welcome to come to the barracks with us if you want, but I don’t think the Colonel will mind if we split up if you’ve already got a room.”

Becca shoved her hands into her pockets and silently thanked Alphonse. “No, I went straight from the train station to command for my test. I was probably going to try the barracks out if you guys don’t mind me tagging along”

Elric looked over at her, then shrugged, allowing for Alphonse to swoop in and assure Becca that that was no problem.

The group went quiet again and Becca avoided looking over by looking pretty much everywhere else. She felt the hair rising on the back of her neck, the familiar sensation of someone watching her. She glanced out of the corner of her eye and jumped when she recognized the same blonde man from earlier. He stood in an alley slightly ahead of them and, this close, Becca was able to see more of his features. After a moment of confusion, her jaw dropped. She froze, letting the Elrics pass her before they realized and turned around.

“Rebecca?”

“Harper?”

“Holy shit…” Becca whispered. She knew if she was holding anything, it would have fallen from her grip, but as it was, the man turned and Becca took off after him, calling out, “Will? Will!”

Becca chased the blonde through the alleys of the city, unsure of what Edward and Alphonse had done after her sudden exit, but too caught up in confusion to turn back. “William!” she shouted. The figure didn’t respond, so Becca steeled herself and kept running. The figure sprinted into what looked like an abandoned house and Becca skidded to a stop. She hesitated outside, looking back over her shoulder to where she thought she could hear someone calling her name, then set her jaw and ducked into the house, making sure her eyes were scanning the darkness as they adjusted. “Will?” she called again, quieter this time.

“Look who finally found her way to the city,” a low voice said from the shadows.

Becca’s eyes filled with tears as she recognized the voice. Even after so many years, the cadence was still the same. She stepped forward, looking around wildly to find where her brother had disappeared to. “Will, I-”

“Couldn’t get Mommy and Daddy to come along?” he asked, his voice taking on a mocking tone.

Becca’s face fell. “What?”

A tall figure stepped out of the shadow of a large mattress that had been leaned against the wall. Becca stepped backwards. She knew the man was definitely her brother. William’s sandy blonde hair was longer than she remembered, and he was definitely standing more confidently than he had when he left their home, but what sealed the deal were his eyes. His blue eyes were exact copies of those of his mother, the thing that constantly reminded Becca that she wasn’t a part of their family, not really. “Did you miss me?” Will asked, crossing his arms with a smirk. “Or was Dad just happy to see me go so he could focus all his attention on his genius child?” He walked closer to Becca, circling her like a vulture. “And of course, my mom must have been glad she’d already let you into her family. A replacement just ready to go, ready to make the family proud once I failed.”

Becca bit her lip. “Will…”

Will cut her off, crossing in front of her again. “You’ll write to them to let them know, right? Assuming they get mail from East City.”

“What do you mean?” Becca asked, her heart skipping a beat. Her father was horrible, but surely he hadn’t received letters from Will and kept them to himself. Louisa had been devastated, Becca remembered. Even if he hadn’t loved her, he wouldn’t have put her through that.

“‘What do you mean?’” Will mimicked, tilting his head innocently at her, then snapping, “I never got a response, so why the hell should you?”

The blood drained from Becca’s face. “Wait, Will-”

“Shut up!” Will bellowed. Before Becca could react, she felt his hand connect with her face. Her hand flew up to cup the now stinging area of her face. She knew she looked silly, her eyes probably betraying the shock rolling through her mind, but she couldn’t find it in herself to hide at the moment. “I’ll bet you’ve had everyone listening to you, so shut your mouth!”

“Will, you don’t understand-”

“I said, shut up!” he yelled. This time, Becca was ready and dodged his swing. Instead of backing off, Becca saw a glimpse of Will’s old, competitive grin, now darker than she’d ever seen it, then took a step back. “Oh, you got some guts too,” he observed before charging forward. Becca flinched backwards, but touched her hands together and reached for the wall nearby. She was disappointed to find that there wasn’t anything sturdier than wood within reach, but formed a plain staff and spun it in time to block the first hit.

There was a brief moment when William looked surprised, but then he just bared his teeth and touched two of the rings Becca noticed decorating his fingers, alchemic energy crackling around his hands. He formed all the rings into claws, brandishing them at her.

“I don’t want to fight you,” Becca said, trying to back away. “Please, just let me explain-”

This time, Will didn’t even respond, just lunging forward and swiping at her. Becca squeaked and danced out of the way. She swung at him this time, successfully making contact and knocking him away, but he was quick in response, rolling to his feet. Becca set her jaw firmly, sinking into a fighting stance. William did the same, but charged with a combative shout. Becca met him halfway, aiming to go for his legs and take him down quickly, but she’d forgotten that she’d trained with Will since they were kids. Of course, he’d know all of her moves after they’d developed their styles almost in sync, so he saw her coming and ducked down, tossing her easily over his back. She flew through the air, then slammed into the ground. She rolled into a crouch just in time to intercept a strike from Will’s metal claws and fling his hands away from her face, then jumped up and caught his arm again, twisting it behind his back, careful to avoid his hands.

“Now would you please just listen? Dad-”

“I’m done with that bastard!” William snapped, thrashing to try and reach Becca. She exhaled quickly and kicked him away, taking the moment he was disoriented to catch her breath. As he clambered to his feet, both siblings paused when they heard uneven footsteps running closer. William looked up at her and spat, “One of your little buddies come to check up on you?”

Before Becca could answer, the door slammed open, revealing Edward Elric, breathing heavily and looking furious. “What the hell, Harper?” he demanded, looking straight at her. He didn’t seem to notice William, and Becca’s distraction obviously gave her brother the moment he needed. He charged at Becca, then, as she turned to intercept him, stepped on the tail of her coat, effectively jerking her off balance. Becca tripped, getting tangled in her coat as Elric jumped back and asked, “And who the fuck are you?”

Becca hit the ground at the same time that William laughed derisively and asked, “The Fullmetal Alchemist? Of course, you made my parents like you, you have to be able to make friends with everyone!”

“Get out of here, Elric-” Becca grunted, struggling to escape the tangled mess of fabric. She’d known that the too-big coat would cause a problem, but she hadn’t anticipated that it would be on her first day.

“Yeah, Elric , this is a family matter,” Will growled.

Elric looked surprised, then his face sank into utterly unimpressed. “I’m not leaving!” He clapped his hands to form a lance out of a wayward pipe. “Out of the way, Harper.”

Becca made a face, finally getting out of her coat. She jumped up to continue the fight and demanded, “Elric, come on. I can do this, go get the MPs or someone!” She didn’t move, knowing that Elric couldn’t attack her brother without risking hurting her. 

“No way in hell!” he snapped. “I’ve been doing this, just let me- watch it, Harper!”

Too late, Becca realized that, during their bickering, Will had slowly bent down. She looked to his right hand just in time to see a transmutation circle he’d scratched into the layer of dirt on the floor before it activated, creating two separate chunks of rising stone. One shot towards Elric, successfully isolating each of his hands, preventing transmutations, while the other effortlessly tossed Becca high enough into the air that coming down knocked the wind out of her. Becca rolled over onto her belly, trying to push herself up while gasping for air, until Will knocked her down again with a kick. He grabbed one of her arms and kneeled on her wrist, restraining her easily while his other knee rested on her back. She could hear Elric struggling as she tried to throw her brother off, but couldn’t twist her head far enough around to see him.

“Will, come on, we can talk about this-”

“No more talking!” Will ordered. “God, all you ever did was talk! Talk your way into my house, my family-”

“That is not how it happened and you know it,” Becca argued.

“Quiet!” he shouted, digging his knee further into her back. He stopped for a moment, then Becca felt his weight shift. “I am not listening to you anymore, and neither will anyone else,” he promised. Before Becca could even try to defend herself, she heard the sounds of a transmutation and started to panic. This, however, did not stop William from wrapping his hands around her neck and starting to squeeze. Her breath immediately caught, and she flailed wildly in an attempt to escape.

“Harper!” Elric shouted. “Dammit, come on!”

Becca was unable to respond as she felt Will squeezing harder. His rings dug into her flesh, which she was sure would leave lesions, but apparently, he didn’t care at the moment. Her attempts to throw him off slowed as dark spots started to appear in her vision. She wasn’t sure how long he’d been on top of her, but she knew that, right now, it was less about fighting back and more about fighting to stay conscious. She kept fading in and out, her head bobbing, but if she passed out in earnest, she was as good as dead. Her eyes fluttered shut and she could hear her gasps for air becoming weaker until, suddenly, his weight was knocked off and Becca found herself on the ground, gasping like a fish out of water, trying to take in as much air as she could.

“Rebecca,” she heard through her coughs. “Rebecca, can you hear me?”

I know that voice, she told herself, oxygen-deprived brain trying to put a face to the voice. It was a woman, but it wasn’t Louisa… not her mother either, Mom was still in Adethal… a blue uniform floated into her vision, which snapped Becca out of her haze for long enough to identify the speaker. She tried to greet Lieutenant Hawkeye, but couldn’t get through the word. Hawkeye appeared to understand, though, and helped her to sit up. She was careful to pull Becca to face her, but she couldn’t stop Will from shouting behind her.

“Maybe if I get rid of you, Dad’ll answer a letter about that!”

Becca glared at him, coughed, and managed to croak, “He’s dead-” before descending into a coughing fit again, feeling like something had lodged itself in her throat, but she knew that wasn’t the case. She choked out, “Louisa too-”, then curled up, bowing her head, hiding from the verbal onslaught she knew was coming.

Shocked silent for just a moment, Will stopped. However, once he regained himself, he appeared more enraged than before. “You LIAR!”

Becca curled up tighter. She felt the Lieutenant’s hand come to rest on her shoulder, a weak link to ground her to reality, but an appreciated one nonetheless. William continued to berate her as the MPs who had stormed the building attempted to get him under control. “You traitorous bitch ! You just want me out of the way so you can have my mother all to yourself!” The poor soldiers tried dragging him away, but he dug his feet into the floor in resistance.

Mustang approached Will with little patience ( Had he just gotten there? Becca thought vaguely, feeling a headache forming as she tried to remember), staring him down without fear. “William Harper, I presume?”

Will spat at his feet, so Mustang looked to Becca, still trying to catch her breath on the ground next to Hawkeye. Becca nodded, hoping he could understand her silently begging him to not treat her brother too harshly. Mustang rolled his eyes, but it seemed he got the message since he just ordered, “Take him outside. Keep an eye on him until you get him to headquarters.”

As he was pulled away, Will sent one last venomous glare towards Becca, who wilted. For the first time, she noticed Alphonse nearby, drawing a circle to release Edward from the stone holding him captive, as well as the rest of Mustang’s team lingering at the borders of the scene. Mustang himself jogged over, lowering himself to the ground and asking, “Are you alright, Illusion?”

“Yessir,” Becca answered quickly. She reached up to scratch at an itchy spot at the base of her neck, then winced when her hand came away with blood. “Nothing a few bandages can’t fix,” she rasped.

Mustang frowned. “I don’t trust where that man’s hands have been. Go get that cut checked out so it doesn’t get infected.” He stood, making sure that Edward had been freed before gesturing to the others. “Get a move on,” he called. “Once we get this paperwork filed, we can all go home. Fullmetal!”

Edward, newly unstuck, looked over angrily. Through the haze that still clouded her mind, Becca recognized the glint of automail through a wide gash in Elrics garish coat. She schooled her expression into a dignified straight face as her assumptions were all but confirmed, but she made eye contact with Elric, who set his jaw when he noticed her looking.

“Make sure Illusion gets a hospital to look at the cut on her neck before you head to the barracks, understood?”

“Whatever,” Edward said theatrically. “Go finish your oh-so-important paperwork!”

Hawkeye rose, helped Becca to her feet, then gave her one more pat on the shoulder before she followed the colonel. The others exchanged various goodnights and waves with her and the brothers before it was just the three of them left.

“You don’t have to escort me to the hospital or anything,” Becca said, sounding like she'd swallowed gravel. “Don’t delay your getting to sleep for me-”

“Rebecca, it’s no problem,” Alphonse assured her once again.

“Yeah, the bastard wants us to, so we might as well,” Edward said bluntly.

“Brother! We’re doing it because Rebecca is your partner, not because the colonel told us!”

“And either way,” Edward continued, looking firmly at Rebecca, eyes glinting. “I want to know what that was all about.” 

As he spoke, he grabbed Becca’s arm, tugging her out of the building. She opened her mouth to protest, but the words got caught in her throat when she saw Alphonse making his way over to them, carrying her coat. She suddenly realized that no one had done anything like that, thinking of her as someone worth helping, in well over a year, and shut her mouth.

“Rebecca?” Edward asked. “Do you need a second?”

Unwillingly, Becca felt her lips quirk into a smile. “No,” she rasped, then forced herself to swallow when Alphonse draped her coat over her shoulders. “Let’s just get out of here.”

---

The next morning found Becca sitting up in a hospital bed, flipping through a stack of papers detailing her condition. The wound on her throat had been bandaged when she arrived and she’d been instructed to speak as little as possible to let her voice recover, but other than that, the hospital staff had mostly left her alone. Becca had insisted the Elrics go back to the barracks to find some actual beds, promising she wouldn’t run off, but they’d only complied when the nurses shooed them out to allow her to rest. However, the nurses hadn’t even brought in Becca’s breakfast when the door opened. She turned, expecting Edward Elric to come crashing in, demanding answers, then jumped when she saw Roy Mustang standing in the doorway.

“Sir!” she rasped, saluting quickly and trying to stumble out of bed.

“At ease, Illusion,” Mustang said. He pulled a chair over to the side of the bed, making sure to sit a respectful distance away from her even as she swung her legs over the side to fully face him. “Not quite the first day you were expecting, I’m sure. Certainly not a family reunion.”

Becca gave him a deadpan look. “Sir, as I’m sure you noticed, I really don’t have the voice for small talk right now. If you have questions, just go ahead and ask.”

Unfazed except for the tiniest hint of a sly smile, the colonel just continued. “Your brother had some colorful descriptions of you when he was interrogated last night. Care to explain?”

“I wasn’t my father’s only pupil,” Becca replied with a shrug. “I was just the one who listened to him.” She hesitated. “He’s probably the smarter sibling in that regard.” She looked up at Mustang, raising her chin proudly as her father had taught her even as she essentially begged for her brother’s life. “Please, sir, go easy on him. I- I know where he’s coming from. He’s lashing out- he’s hurt, it’s not fair to-”

Mustang stood up, all business professionalism again. Becca went silent.

“About that,” he said evenly. “Your brother managed to escape from custody late last night. We’re already working on tracking him down. However, despite his temper and attitude, Fullmetal is a combat specialist, much like you’re a stealth specialist. If William comes after you again, you two will both have a better chance of not getting your asses handed to you if you work together, so you need to collaborate with each other, understood?” Becca nodded quickly and he continued, “I talked to your doctor and he’s cleared you to leave after someone changes your bandages. I have an assignment for Fullmetal, so unless your wound got infected, you’ll be going as well. I’m expecting you three in my office tomorrow, no later than lunch.”

“Of course, sir.”

“Get some rest.”

“I will, sir.”

“Watch your back.”

“Colonel, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were worrying about me.”

Mustang side eyed her, then smirked as he turned away “A game of chess can’t be played until all the pawns are positioned, Harper.” He waved over his shoulder as the door swung shut, giving a far too jovial sounding farewell as he went.

---

Becca had insisted that she didn’t need a hospital breakfast, so she’d checked herself out just as the sun was coming up. East City was quiet as she walked down main street towards the military barracks. She’d been surprised that neither Elric had busted their way into her room demanding answers, but, after considering it for a moment, she supposed it was early. She’d been an early bird all her life, so she made sure to take her time perusing the sleepy city, unable to help the feeling that she might be marching towards her death. It was still early when she reached the barracks and approached the front desk.

The man at the desk was clearly dozing until Becca coughed pointedly to get his attention. He jumped, then demanded, “Who’re you? What do you want?”

“Rebecca Harper, the Illusion Alchemist,” Becca said, thoroughly unimpressed by the guard’s annoyance. She flashed her watch and asked, “Which room is Edward Elric in?”

The man floundered for a moment, then pulled out a log. “Fullmetal is in room 41, uh- ma’am.”

“Thank you,” Becca said coolly, making her way to where a sign indicated the room would be. Her confident front faltered when she actually reached the door. She briefly considered changing her mind, going back to her predictable life in Adethal and never having to face the brothers again. Then she remembered that she was trapped in service for everything short of death for the foreseeable future and tilted her head back, suppressing a groan. She pasted on a solemn look and knocked firmly on the door, once, twice, three times.

She heard someone stumble towards the door and Edward Elric, gold eyes half lidded with his hair still ruffled in a bedhead. Becca noticed the automail arm she’d seen yesterday on full display, along with his opposite leg, but she didn’t stare or flinch, remembering his disgruntled expression at her noticing last night.

“Harper, why are you even up at…” He checked a clock in the room and turned back to her, “Six in the damn morning?”

Becca felt her cheeks go pink and she bit her lip. “Sorry, I forget not everyone is up this early. I can let you sleep a bit more if you’d like-”

Elric stepped aside, ushering her inside before he disappeared into an ensuite bathroom as he talked. “Nah, you’re already here and I’ve got a lot of questions.”

“Where’d Alphonse go?” Becca asked, perching on the stained couch near the door.

She could practically see Elric shrugging as he answered, “Probably went to get breakfast. He’ll be back soon.” He reappeared from the bathroom, having pulled a few pieces of clothes over his sleeping things.

“The colonel told you everything, I guess,” Becca assumed.

Surprisingly, Elric barked a harsh laugh. “No way. That bastard can be annoyingly secretive. He told me what you could do and I know there’s only so many ways that can be accomplished.” He sat down heavily at the table and transferred his gaze to her. “Look, I’m not stupid. I know we can’t get out of working with each other, at least for a while. Al told me he thinks we should just be honest with each other and go from there.”

Becca blinked. This was less like the interrogation she’d been expecting, more like an actual conversation. She definitely hadn’t been expecting to hear the Elrics story as well. She didn’t notice how much time had passed until Elric prompted her, “C’mon, Harper. Equivalent exchange.”

She chuckled at that. “I guess that’s a fair way of thinking about it.” She hesitated, then agreed, “Yeah. Honesty sounds good.”

Notes:

i hope you and your loved ones are staying healthy and safe, and i'll see you all in the next update! -c

Chapter 2: exulansis

Notes:

hello again, my dears!

i'm posting this pretty much right after chapter one, but i'm afraid these first two are the only ones i've prewritten, so updates will come a little less frequently after this, but i don't plan on abandoning this anytime soon (if you want to leave comments or kudos to keep my spirits up, however, i think i'd faint with joy).

this is a huge exposition dump, but i figured it was easier to just answer the biggest questions about becca now, then filling in the smaller gaps as the story goes on. after this, i'm planning for 1-2 more chapters of the past before picking up in liore (part of my plan is to mess with the timeline slightly concerning isaac macdougal, but we'll cross that bridge when we get there).

exulansis (noun)- the tendency to give up trying to talk about an experience because people are unable to relate to it

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Becca shifted on the couch, taking a deep breath, before she started talking. “Well, last night you met my brother, William.” She bit her lip, then revised, “Technically he’s my half brother. We were both born and raised in Adethal…”

As she spoke, Becca let herself take a trip down memory lane, getting lost in her own stories as she told them.

Becca leaned across the dining room table, observing from a distance as Will chalked a transmutation circle onto the grainy surface.

“Now,  catch,” Will teased, tossing the chalk to Becca, who fumbled to catch it, then instructed, “And watch this.” He pressed his hands to the table, energy crackling around the circle as five tiny statuettes rose from the wood. Becca gasped, a smile alighting her face as she put the chalk aside to look closer.

“It’s us!” she said delightedly. The figurines were more shapes than actual people, but Becca could easily distinguish who was supposed to be who. There was a tall, thin cube representing their father, and a similarly shaped cylinder straight to his right was Becca’s mother. On the other side, there was an egg shaped figure in place of Will’s mom, Louisa, and in front of her was a small pyramid and an even smaller sphere, which obviously was meant to be Will and Becca. The statuettes mirrored the large picture hanging in their front entryway. Becca grinned up at Will across the table, but she faltered when she noticed Will’s dejected look. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s not good enough,” Will muttered. “Not enough details. Dad wouldn’t like it.”

“Well, I like it,” Becca defended. “Can I keep it since Dad wouldn’t want it?”

Will laughed and ruffled Becca’s hair. “Sorry, Becca. Equivalent exchange. I can’t make more wood out of nothing, so if we don’t put it back, then we end up with a hole in the table.”

Becca ducked away from his hand and made a face. As Will undid the alchemy and restored the flat table, she sighed, resting her chin on the table. “I wish I could do alchemy.”

Her brother gave her a thoughtful look while wiping the chalk circle away. “I mean, you could ask Dad.”

Becca brightened. “You’d let me learn with you?”

“I don’t think it’s really my choice, squirt.” He moved around the table, squeezing Becca into a side hug. “But if Dad says it’s okay, I think I could help you catch up.” 

Becca beamed up at him, then her breath caught as she heard the front door open. “Dad’s home!” She pulled away from Will and started towards the doorway, then turned and excitedly explained, “I’m gonna go ask him about joining lessons!”

---

“If there’s one thing you need to know about my father, it’s that he was obsessed with his legacy.” She laughed begrudgingly. “My stepmom, Louisa, hated that. She said he used to be amazing to her, then he got his state alchemist title and he changed.”

That night, Becca and Will huddled together under Will’s blanket, listening to all three adults arguing. Their father had agreed to start Becca’s alchemy training within the week, but Louisa had forcefully objected once she was told about the plan after dinner, which had led to the three way shouting match at present.

“She’s four, Benedict! She’s only just started reading and she hasn’t even had the chance to go to regular school-”

“She’s not going to regular school ever, Louisa. I already let you put William in school and he’s years behind where I was at his age! Absolutely not, Rebecca will be taught by me and only me. That’s the only right way to continue a legacy, from the get go,” their dad said firmly.

“If she wants to, Rebecca should get to. You said she’s bright, Louisa-” Becca’s mother pointed out.

“She’s bright, and she’s still a child! I know you both think that children are just means to your ends, but believe it or not, they’re both their own people!” Louisa shouted. “Maybe they won’t want to stay here and look after you forever, and they might not want to ‘continue your legacy’! They need a normal life!”

Becca winced as she heard a loud thump. It sounded like someone had just pounded a fist on the wall, and, knowing all three adults’ tempers, she assumed it was their father. Will’s arms tightened around her.

“Enough!” their father bellowed. “Nora and I are Rebecca’s parents, no matter how much you think otherwise. She and I will discuss this. You screwed up my legacy once, I’m not letting it get completely ruined by the likes of you.”

There were a few moments of silence between all three before Louisa spoke again. Will and Becca had to strain to hear her spit out, “Someone gave you a watch and a fancy title and you lost your dignity, Benedict Harper”. Familiar footsteps stormed up the stairs towards the bedrooms, and Becca heard the door slowly open and guiltily poked her head out from under the covers.

Will, Becca, and Louisa stared at each other for a few moments before Will asked, “Are you okay, Mom?”

“Oh, honey,” Louisa murmured, smiling tiredly. She climbed onto Will’s bed and pulled both of them close to her. “Of course I’m okay. I have you two.” She brushed Will’s bangs aside and traced a hand down Becca’s jaw. She scrunched her nose at them, making Becca laugh, then asked, “Now how many rounds of our lullaby will it take for you two to get to sleep?”

Becca squealed in joy, but Will rolled his eyes. “I’m too old for lullabies, Mom.”

“Oh?” Louisa said, raising a brow. “Then I can just take Becca back to her bed and we’ll sing there.” She picked Becca up, swinging her around to sit on her hip as Becca giggled.

“Wait a second!” Will protested, crawling to rest on the edge of the bed.

Louisa chuckled. She sat beside him, Becca resting on her lap, and put an arm around his shoulders. “Come on, hon. Time for bed.”

Becca saw Will smile and cuddled closer into Louisa’s chest. Louisa started off humming the normal lullaby as Will snuggled under his covers. Becca closed her eyes, already feeling her heart start to slow down from the racing pace she didn’t even realize it had jumped to during the argument.

“Wandering child of the earth, do you know just how much you’re worth?” Louisa sang, bopping Will on the nose. “You’ve walked this path since your birth, you were destined for more…” She continued the song, still holding Becca until she fell asleep.

Becca noticed Alphonse quietly creeping back into the room, clearly about to ask what was happening before he was silenced by Elric raising a hand. Instead, the younger boy just settled nearby.

“So I was allowed to start learning alchemy with my father. He’d always been strict, but he got stricter after he failed his reinstatement test.”

---

Becca’s knees were knocked out from under her by a sweeping kick from Will as they sparred. She collapsed to the ground, then heard her father snap, “Rebecca, 20 push ups.” Becca sighed, resting her forehead on the ground while she tried to catch her breath. She could hear her dad stomping back into the house, but it was Will who squatted down next to her. He wordlessly offered a hand, but Becca shook her head.

“If I get up, I’m not doing those pushups. I just- give me a second.”

Will looked like he was going to protest, but Becca shot him a look and he huffed, sitting down.

“He can’t seriously think this is a fair fight,” he said, annoyed.

Becca groaned, starting the pushups. It was true, she supposed. Any instance where an eight year old had to fight a sixteen, almost seventeen, year old could hardly be considered fair , but the Quicksilver Alchemist hadn’t been one for fair since the military had refused to renew his license. Once she finished the 20 pushups, she rolled onto her back and accepted Will’s outstretched hand.

“Let’s go grab a drink, then we can do some practical stuff,” he said gently, pulling her to her feet.

---

“And all Will and I wanted to do was make him proud…”

Ear pressed to her bedroom door, Becca could just barely make out the discussion that had been going on for what felt like hours in the study. Honestly, to her, it sounded more like a presentation that Will was pitching to their father. And unfortunately, it didn’t seem to be going well. Becca was aggressively thrown back to huddling in their shared room when Louisa had fought allowing her to learn alchemy when Will’s loud footsteps hurried up the stairs. She heard Louisa herself murmuring with her father downstairs, and Becca could only catch the words, “...you did this… training… wasted childhood… legacy…” before Will reached the door and she had to scurry out of the way to avoid being hit by it.

“Becca…” he murmured, seeing her sprawled across the floor. He was breathing heavily and had a wild look in his eye that reminded her too much of their father in the last two years. Becca felt her lip start to quiver in fear until he sighed heavily and quietly closed the door, sinking slowly to sit at the base, laughing cynically. “I just cannot be good enough for him,” he mumbled, fingers raking through his neatly styled blonde hair until Becca had wiggled her way into his lap and his arms moved to hold her tightly. She felt him shaking and rocking, and she just closed her eyes, unsure of what could be done to remedy the situation.

She opened her eyes quickly when she realized he had gone still.

“Will?” she asked. When she looked up at him, her brother was looking at the window in between their beds and her stomach flipped. She shook him slightly and prompted, “Will?” again.

He stood up suddenly, hoisting Becca onto his hip and setting her on her bed, then almost ran over to his set of drawers and pulled a suitcase out from under it. He went on a mad dash around the room, tossing everything from journals to clothes into the case while Becca looked on silently. She had a feeling she knew where this was going, but she didn’t want to vocalize it, should it become real. She sat mute as he scribbled down a note in one of his journals, then proceeded to rip the page out and left it folded crisply on his desk.

However, she had to push down her gut feeling to stay quiet when Will practically threw the window open. Becca jumped off the bed and whispered a hasty “Wait!”, dragging a blanket behind her.

Thankfully, he paused, then blinked. He looked like he’d just come out of a trance. Becca stared pleadingly at him until he cracked a bitter smile and opened his arms. She rushed to him, squeezing him around the middle. “Please don’t go,” she whispered, knowing that fleeing would only anger their father more.

“Hey,” Will said gently,  pulling her chin up so she was looking him in the face. “I’ll be back, I promise. And when I get back, maybe Dad will be so proud that he’ll let me take over as your teacher.” He pried her hands off of him and kissed her forehead, then slid his suitcase out the window and onto the sturdy tree branch nearby.

She bit her lip and asked, “Don’t you want to say goodbye to Louisa?”

Will sighed heavily. “Mom would convince me not to go. I’ll see her when I get back. Can you make sure she gets my note?”

“I- yeah,” Becca agreed helplessly, struggling to find another reason to stall him. “Will-”

“Becca, I have to do this. I have to prove myself to him.” Will rubbed a hand across his face, then reassured, “It’ll be okay. You’ll hardly even notice I’m gone.” He sent her a tight smile. "You can think of this as the beginning of my adulthood. Then I'll see you off in a few years and you can go by yourself too."

Becca felt her eyes well up, but nodded. Will nodded back, smiling again, and climbed out the window and into the tree. Becca moved to the window, watching as he climbed down, long limbs allowing him to make it in a few seconds. She watched as he dusted himself off, then turned to look at her.

“I love you, squirt,” he called up.

“I love you too,” she responded, wrapping her blanket tighter around herself before closing the window firmly behind him and curling up in bed, shaking with barely restrained sobs. She pretended to be asleep when Louisa came in, but was only able to fake it through her quiet gasp upon seeing the empty bed. Becca wiped her eyes, sitting up slowly as Louisa sank down on Will's abandoned bed. Louisa's heartbroken expression caused Becca's own heart to clench and she pathetically choked out, "I tried to stop him… I'm sorry…" She pointed to the desk where Will's note lay. "He left a letter for you."

Louisa snatched the letter and read it slowly. After she'd put it aside, she put her head in her hands. As Becca was about to whimper another apology, Louisa crossed the room and almost collapsed next to her, hugging her as she began to weep in earnest. Wrapped in Louisa's embrace, Becca broke down as well, already missing her brother.

"I never saw him again until last night," Becca explained.  Her expression twisted into an angry scowl. "Although, apparently, he wrote to us but my bastard father never felt the need to tell us."

Neither Elric had said a word, but finally, Edward broke the silence and pointed out, "That doesn't explain why you did it."

Becca winced, her face falling. “Sorry, I just- I figured you’d want an explanation for last night-” She bit her lip, then continued, “I’ll go on.”

---

The clock chimed eight in the Harper-Brand household, and the morning found its members in what had become the new normal in the past year. Becca sat at the kitchen table, studying, while Louisa occupied herself with breakfast in the kitchen. Becca’s mother was lounging on the large couch in their parlor, while her father hadn’t descended the stairs yet.

“Rebecca,  don’t forget to do the shopping today, dear,” her mother said, barely looking up from her embroidery. “And I need you to pick up that face cream from the Kramers.”

Becca sighed,  scribbling a few final notes into her leatherbound notebook before she waved it around to dry the ink and snapped it shut. “I’ll do that.”

“I need the cream by tonight-”

“I’ll take care of it.”

“Rebecca, listen carefully-” her mother started.

“Becca, can you come give me a hand?” Louisa called. Becca sighed thankfully, tossing her notes onto a shelf nearby. She hurried into the kitchen,  quickly catching a pancake that was tilting off of the precarious stack. She exhaled, looking up and sharing a laugh with Louisa. Louisa reached over and squeezed Becca’s shoulder. “Thanks, kiddo. You go ahead and eat that one while I finish these up,” she said, indicating the pancakes on the stove that she was carefully stacking on a plate nearby. Becca nodded, stuffing the food in her mouth, then crossed to the cabinet and started stacking plates, cups, and silverware to bring to the table. She still instinctively went for five of everything, then froze, shook her head, and placed one setting back in its place. Louisa had paused as well, then laid her chin on the top of Becca’s hair and kissed the crown of her head. “He’ll write soon,” she said like she did every morning.

It was getting harder and harder to believe, but Becca had already fallen into the routine of hope, so she responded as she always did: “I know.”

“Rebecca!” she heard her father shout. “I told you to finish those equations!” Becca flinched.

Louisa released her and ordered, “Go put those on the table. If he says anything, tell him you were studying, but you had to help me. Go, now.”

Becca nodded quickly, rushing to follow the instructions before her father got angrier. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Becca muttered, sliding the plates into their spots on the table. “I finished earlier, my notes are on the bookshelf if you want to check-”

Her father sneered, but picked up the journal and started flipping through the book.

Just as the final place setting was set down, three things happened simultaneously: One, Becca’s father made a disapproving noise. Two, her mother puckered her lips to apply some dark shade of lipstick.  And three, Becca heard a thump from the kitchen. Rationally, she knew it was probably innocent, but for some reason,  something felt horribly wrong. It felt like time was slowing down as she heard her father call out for her while she turned and ran back to the kitchen. She froze in the doorway. There was Louisa, in a heap on the ground. Someone screamed. She thought it was her, but she couldn’t tell for sure as she was barely aware she’d moved forward to kneel beside Louisa.

“Louisa and I both missed Will, but she-” Becca heard her voice crack, but it felt like she was an outsider in her own body, listening to someone else talking through her. “He was her kid, her real kid, and she- she couldn’t take it.”

---

“Good morning,” Becca said quietly, opening the door to Louisa’s bedroom. Her stepmother smiled softly at her, but she’d been having difficulty speaking ever since her stroke a few weeks earlier. However, her silence caused Becca to make a face, since Louisa could usually greet her, but she hadn’t been able to in the last few days. Granted, it was early, earlier than her own father and mother would be up, but that was the only time Becca had to care for Louisa and it never usually caused a problem. She set a tray of scrambled eggs on the table beside the bed, then helped Louisa to sit up and offered her the fork. Normally, Louisa was able to at least feed herself a few bites before needing assistance so that Becca could freshen up the room, but today, the fork dropped out of her hand after a few seconds. Becca frowned. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Becca,” Louisa murmured, reaching over to clumsily squeeze her hand. Becca squeezed back, smiling encouragingly. “Will you- uh- Will’s letter? Read- um, read it?”

Becca’s smile faltered slightly. She’d been asking for that a lot lately, and every time, tears would roll down her face as she read, but Becca couldn’t bring herself to say no. “I’ll get it. It’s on the desk, right?”

Louisa hesitated, considering the question as had become the norm, then agreed, “Yeah- desk.”

Becca retrieved the letter from its place and handed it over. She watched silently as Louisa’s hands began to shake while she read. Becca hopped up onto the bed, curling up into Louisa’s side and holding her tightly.

“Chest hurt,” Louisa whispered.

Becca assumed she was just trying to express grief, so she just nodded and muttered, “I know.” She pressed a kiss to Louisa’s hair, then stretched as the clock chimed eight. “I have to go take care of everything else. I’ll be back tonight, okay?” Louisa  didn’t respond, too enthralled in the letter, so Becca just affirmed, “I love you,” then switched the radio she’d moved up to Louisa’s room on to the classical music  station and slipped out the door. She resisted the urge to cover her ears to block out the gut wrenching coughs she could hear as soon as she started walking away to go prepare breakfast for her parents.

---

Rubbing her back gingerly and sore from a rough training session with her father, Becca knocked on Louisa’s door as the December sun set. She waited a moment, then let herself in. She stopped just inside. Louisa appeared to already be asleep, which, while not unusual, combined with everything else to make Becca worry.

“Louisa?”

Louisa didn’t respond, so Becca stepped closer and called her name again, along with a quiet, “Are you alright?”

It was only then that she was close enough to realize that Louisa’s chest wasn’t rising and falling. Instead, it was motionless. Louisa herself was as still as a statue. Becca gasped, practically falling forward to rest her elbows on the bed. She scrambled to reach for Louisa’s wrist and frantically felt for a pulse. She couldn’t find one.

“No, no, no, please-” Becca whispered, moving her hand up to Louisa’s jugular. “Please, no, please, come on, no, no-” She swallowed thickly and shouted, “Someone get help! Call the hospital!”

She looked around, desperately searching for something, anything, to help, until her eyes landed on the napkin she’d brought with breakfast that morning. It was covered in dried blood. Becca looked up to Louisa’s face and caught sight of a hint of blood around her mouth. Just as her father burst in, Becca whipped around to look at him, the speed of her breathing picking up.

“Did you call someone?” she demanded.

Her father said nothing, just strode forward and grabbed Becca firmly on each shoulder. Becca pulled against him, straining to get away as she weakly insisted, “No, stop, I need to help her, someone has to-” Her demands escalated to screamed pleas. “No, no, you can’t, please don’t, please, Dad, help her, please-!”

She didn’t know when she ended up sitting on the stairs, but she knew she’d started crying at some point. She’d buried her face in her hands, still pleading, promising, while her father’s cold hands held her in place.

“Please,” she sobbed. “I’ll never ask anything again, please, just help her, help her, please, you have to-”

She froze, shocked, when she felt the sting of skin on skin. Her hand instinctively went to her cheek, cradling the red she was sure was blooming over where her father had slapped her. She stared up at him, totally caught off guard.

“You do not tell me what I have to do,” he said angrily. “She’s dead, Rebecca. No one can help her. You will calm down before I will call anyone. Pull yourself together. Do you think the military will tolerate this?”

Becca’s lip quivered, but she forced back the fresh tears as she shook her head. “No, sir.”

“That was Dad’s favorite thing,” Becca noted quietly. “‘Do you think the military will tolerate this?’ And the answer was always, ‘No, sir’ if I wanted dinner that night.” She shook her head to clear her head. “Louisa- the doctor told us later that it was pulmonary embolism, a blood clot that blocked blood flow to her lungs. Not that they cared. Thank God everyone she’d ever met liked her, otherwise we probably wouldn’t have even had a funeral…”

---

Becca stood alone at the grave. It was well known around town that Louisa and Becca’s father hadn’t gotten along since her father’s public affair, but she would have thought that after Louisa had basically kept the house functioning for twelve years when she could have just left when Benedict brought his mistress home and expected her to care for both Nora and their incoming child, one of them would have the decency to attend her funeral. She bit her lip and ran a hand over the words engraved on the plaque.

Louisa Harper

March 29, 1864-December 5th, 1911

Always loving, always loved

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. She heard running footsteps behind her and turned tiredly to see her father sprinting up the hill. She furrowed her brow.

“Rebecca, I’ve made a discovery!” he crowed.

Becca huffed, switching her gaze back to Louisa’s headstone. “Dad, please,” she choked out. “Please, can’t this wait?”

“Listen, you don’t understand,” her father said insistently. Becca didn’t look at him, but she noticed that he sounded more alive than he’d sounded in years. She closed her eyes, silently willing him to just leave her alone, but he continued to talk. “I’ve done all the math, I just need to figure out the circle-” Good God, Becca thought. I’m mourning and he still can’t let up on the alchemy… Louisa was right. He’s obsessed- “You can see her again.”

Becca’s gaze snapped to him. “What? No, I can’t. That goes against Equivalent Exchange, it has to.”

He smiled at her. “You can . I swear it’s true.” The smile didn’t reach his eyes, but the tiny shred of hope that had just lit up in Becca’s chest told her it was just because he hadn’t smiled in earnest in so long. 

She looked up at him, wide eyed. “How?”

“Come back to the house,” her father requested. “We can discuss it over dinner.”

---

“You had just gotten certified,” Becca explained. “And no one knew for sure how you did it, but there were rumors, and my father- he was willing to try anything to get his status back.”

Becca carried a large bucket of water into the shed her and her father had taken over in the past four months. She nudged the door open to see her father crouched on the ground, sketching out the circle they’d devised.

“Careful with that,” he snapped. Becca winced. The first month of working together, he’d been the best teacher she could ever remember him being, but as the process dragged on, he fell into the same patterns he’d always had in relation to her: snarky and demanding. But, as she told herself constantly, once this was done, he’d surely get his title back and maybe things  would be better. 

As it was now, however, Becca just flinched and uttered a quiet, “Right, sorry.”

Without an affirmation, her father just stood up and surveyed their work. Becca went to work checking over the list of ingredients that they’d gathered while he closed the curtains, blocking out the sun, and lit the old lantern hanging from a hook in the ceiling.

“Are you sure this is okay?” Becca asked. “Human transmutation-”

“The books say it’s impossible, but we’ve done the math,” her father said coldly. “We’ve discussed this before. And once we do this, we’ll be hailed as alchemical heroes.” He smiled, an odd expression to see on his face after twelve years of sneers and smirks. “The Harper name will go down in history.”

Becca bit her lip, but nodded. She pulled a small bundle of hair out of a bag, cringing, before she dropped it onto the pile of materials. Becca had barely been able to force herself to go into Louisa’s room to retrieve the hair from her brush, but she’d forced herself by repeating the mantra that had been running through her head since the funeral.

It’s for her.

“Ready, Rebecca?” her dad prompted, crouching on the far end of the circle.

“I-” Becca hesitated. “Yeah,” she said decisively. However, when her father counted down to cue them, it was only her who touched her hands to the circle. “Hang on, Dad, what are you doing?”

Almost immediately, the room didn’t feel right, and she had to resist the urge to jerk her hands away as the energy from the transmutation sparked wildly. Suddenly, a giant eye opened in the center of the circle. Becca jerked away, but the reaction was already underway. 

Her father, on the other hand, grinned wildly. “Finally!” he crowed. Before Becca could react, he had jumped up, throwing himself into the circle. As she watched, he disappeared. She started to call out, leaning forward to touch the circle, but the second she did, she felt herself being ripped apart and could only scream in pain until she suddenly couldn’t feel anything whatsoever. She stumbled to her feet, breathing heavily as she tried to take in her surroundings.

“What-?” she whispered. “Where is this?”

“Hello, child.”

Becca whirled around, somehow just noticing the large gate behind her. The gate was carved with an intricate design with three branches from a central mall, each ending in a swirl. Words were inscribed along the lines in a language Becca recognized from her studies as Xerxesian, and although she couldn’t read exactly what they said, she could pick out a few of the technical terms for multiple elements. The most horrifying, however, was the figure standing straight backed in front of the gate itself. “...Dad?”

The figure chuckled. It sounded like thousands of voices all laughing at once, then, once it started to speak, the effect continued. “You know that’s not true, alchemist.”

“But-” Becca squeaked, then coughed, and restarted, “But you have to be-”

“I am many things. I am God. I am the world. I am the universe. I am the truth. I am one. I am all-”

“I am you,” Becca finished. At the same time, Elric was staring at her, having practically quoted the entire introduction along with her. Becca stopped, meeting his eyes. “It said the same thing to you?”

“I’ll never forget it,” Elric muttered, averting his eyes. He surveyed her, raising a brow when he looked back up to her face. “But I don’t get it. It had already taken the form of your father? So what did you lose?”

Becca wiped her eyes again, trying to hide her tears. She hadn’t had to give up the truth to anyone yet, but she forced the admission out, along with a broken sob. “I lost him-”

“Sacrificing someone else, you had the right idea," the thing mimicking her father said. "Unfortunately, you know he wasn't worth as much to you as she was."

"Sacrificing- what? No, I- I didn't want to-"

The manic grin that stretched over her father's face was even more unusual than its laugh moments earlier. "Oh, I see. Well, then I suppose you two were both arrogant fools then, but he paid the price for it." If possible, the grin became wider. "And you get to reap the reward." The thing opened its arms and the doors behind it opened slowly. Tiny black arms ensnared Becca, pulling her in even as she resisted.

"Get them off of me, please!" she screamed. 

The figure of her father only waved in response. "Enjoy the show."

Becca’s eyes snapped open as she jerked to sit up. Her head throbbed dully, a sure sign of a headache coming on, but Becca had no idea why. That… thing in front of that huge gate had told her to enjoy the show, but she couldn’t remember what exactly it had shown her. Suddenly, the image of it flashed in her mind- the figure wearing her father’s face- and she looked around wildly.

“Dad?” she called, pushing to her feet, and shouted urgently, “Dad!”

Becca stepped into the circle and her foot came into contact with something. She looked down and her eyes widened, unable to even scream at the vaguely humanoid, twisted body that had been created in the transmutation.

“No,” she whispered as realization dawned on her. Her father had been the sacrifice that being talked about, and for what? They’d failed, only succeeding in creating a feeble replication of a human body. “No, no, no, no, no-” she whimpered, her cries becoming louder as she backed away from the circle. She hit the wall and sobbed, collapsing to her knees. She curled up, head resting between her legs, and wept in earnest, mourning her father, mourning her innocence, and, most importantly to her, mourning Louisa once again.

---

Slowly, things fell into yet another new pattern. Becca knew that no one could know what had happened, not that anyone asked. No one in Adethal really liked her father, so they didn’t question Becca’s hasty lie about an accident concerning her father, and her mother was too caught up in herself to press the matter past everyone giving her half-hearted condolences at the memorial service. Becca was ready to atone for her sins in any way she could by never performing alchemy again, so she too fell into a routine, passing the days taking care of her mother. Cooking, cleaning, running errands- anything to keep her mind occupied and her soul feeling productive.

One morning, months after the incident, however, things shifted once again. Becca woke up with the pounding headache that had taken what seemed like a permanent residence in her temples, and stumbled downstairs to start boiling water for a mug of peppermint tea like she always did when the ache was particularly painful, then stepped outside for the day’s mail.

“Morning, Becca,” her neighbor, Victor, greeted.

Becca raised her hand in acknowledgement, then took a deep breath to inhale the scent of baking bread coming from her bakery. “The rolls smell fantastic, I’m sure Mom will send me over later.”

Victor chuckled, then asked, “Anything from Will today?” Becca knew the exchange well. She remembered that her brother and their neighbor had been close (Becca had her own suspicions, but Will had always said she was too young to get it), and he had retained that hopeful edge through the years, same as Louisa. Becca looked through the few letters, mostly bills, but had to give him a weak half smile.

“Not today,” she said habitually, then paused. Her brow furrowed as she recognized the seal on the final letter as that of the Amestrian military. 

Obviously intrigued, Victor leaned over the wall separating their houses. “Something interesting?”

“Yeah, it… it’s something,” Becca said, placing it aside to sort through the others. “Bills, bills, bills,” she muttered, flicking through once again to check that she hadn’t missed anything. “Ooh, a letter from my great aunt.” She didn’t voice it, but she’d hoped there’d be some money in that envelope along with the letter. The small allowance her mother was allotted monthly from her inheritance was barely enough to keep Becca and her mom afloat, especially with her mother’s impulsive spending habits and near obsession with her appearance, so anything that could be stowed away for a rainy day was welcome.

Victor started to speak, but he couldn’t even get a word out before Becca heard the whistling of the teapot from its spot just inside the kitchen window. She shot a guilty look over the wall at Victor, who merely waved it off.

“I’ve got to go check on the bread anyway,” he said easily. “Come by tonight and you can sample a few new things I’m thinking of for the winter solstice, okay?”

Becca grinned at her. “Alright, I’ll try,” she assured, hurrying inside to quiet the whistling before it woke her mom. She moved the pot, then poured as much as she could into a mug, filling it to the brim, and dunked a sweet smelling tea bag in. While it steeped, Becca set about slicing the last few pieces of bread from that week's loaf and reaching into the icebox for some jam and butter, as well as getting coffee going for her mother. When she got a moment, Becca crossed to the bookshelf and pulled down the log she’d kept of their finances to start working on the bills until her mom got up. 

The military letter, however, was the last to be opened, and Becca broke the seal easily in order to shake the letter out. She kicked her feet onto the table, assuming it was just something concerning her father’s death, then slowly leaned forward as the letter went on. Loans taken out… failure to pay… report to East City… 

She threw the letter down, biting back a swear, and dashed up the stairs, crashing into her father’s study and rifling through all of his things, searching for letters, bills, anything to prove that the letter had arrived at the wrong house.

I can’t take any more on top of everything else, Becca thought, feeling her breaths quicken into gasps. Her hands shook as she flipped through her father’s personal journals. She felt her headache increase as her eyes scanned the pages. Slowly, however, her pace stalled as she started reading the entries dated around the time Louisa got sick. “What…?” she whispered. Her head felt like it was about to explode when it reached his notes about human transmutation. She scrunched her eyes shut and fell back into the chair, suddenly remembering everything . Truth, or whatever it was, and its gate of knowledge crashed back into her memory.

“He knew she was dying,” Becca spat. “But he wouldn’t try to help- he wanted to use her to- to trick me. He wanted what you have,” she said, nodding towards Elric, who looked stricken, “and it was supposed to be me, not him.”

“Rebecca!” she heard someone calling. “Rebecca! It’s burning!” Becca blinked her eyes open, coming too again. She jumped up, only just realizing what her mother had yelled. She sped downstairs, tripping down the stairs to turn the toaster off. She pushed past her mother, burning her fingers in an attempt to get the offending pieces of bread out, before she turned to her mother.

“Mom…” Becca said weakly. “We need to talk.”

“After breakfast, love,” her mom said, adjusting her long, blue Xingese silk robe. She had clearly woken abruptly, given that her curlers were still in her hair and she hadn’t put on her usual makeup yet, and she barely gave Becca a second glance as she made her way back towards her bedroom, presumably to get ready. “Put some eggs on for me, won’t you?”

Becca tried to stop her, to force this conversation now , but she found herself sagging from sudden exhaustion. She closed her eyes tightly, feeling like she was about to cry, and reached over to take a long drink from her abandoned mug. She brought the tea to her lips, only to find it cold. She huffed loudly, abruptly frustrated with her mother, her father, hell, she was frustrated at the world , and shouted wordlessly, throwing her mug against the wall. The shattering, while not helpful, was extremely satisfying.

At least until Becca realized she’d just created another mess for herself. She groaned, reaching for the broom, then froze.

Maybe… she thought, crouching by the broken pieces. She touched her hands together and felt a jolt of energy rush through her, as if a circuit had been connected. In a few seconds, Becca reconstructed the mug, granted, without the cold tea still inside. She fell back onto her knees, staring down at her hands in shock.

“They wanted him to come sort everything out, but-” she shrugged, “that couldn’t happen, so I had to.”

“What about your mom?” Alphonse asked, “Couldn’t she-”

“No,” Becca said. “For one, she wouldn’t have a clue what to do, but also, she and my dad weren’t married. All of his assets should fall to Will, since he’s older, but that obviously couldn’t happen either. It has to be this way.”

---

“Ah, well, Miss Harper,” some bespectacled clerk stuttered. 

Becca pushed the stack of letters she’d taken from her father’s office across the table. “I swear, my mother and I, we had no idea-”

“Yes, but even so- oh, goodness!” The man jumped up, saluting to someone behind Becca. Becca turned, looking up at a tall, dark haired man, who the clerk quickly identified with a squeaky, “Colonel Mustang, sir!”

“I thought Benedict Harper was supposed to be with you, Private Gruber,” Mustang said, raising his brow. “I was hoping to see him.”

“Uh, he- he was supposed to be, sir, but-”

“My father died in March,” Becca interrupted. “I’m just trying to get his debts settled.”

Mustang’s eyes fell to her, dark eyes meeting her own. She could practically sense him glancing over her features and lowered her chin, careful to not break eye contact. He smirked.

“Trying?” he asked. “Is something wrong?”

“Well, sir, Mr. Harper racked up… quite a lot of interest-”

“And I don’t have the money now, but if we could just discuss a payment plan,” Becca said insistently. She saw the clerk looking helplessly up at the colonel, making Becca look up at him as well.

Mustang sighed, running a hand through his hair. “How much?”

The clerk showed him the number scrawled on the paper sitting between him and Becca. Mustang gave a low whistle. “What are the options?”

“We don’t have many, sir,” Gruber said honestly. “The terms stated that the minimums of all the loans have to be paid within the year, and Mr. Harper didn’t do so before his death. Our options right now are pretty much limited to paying the compounded minimum in full by December or else the military will seize their assets.”

Becca leaned forward, head in her hands. “We have nowhere else to go,” she said pleadingly.

“What about a payment plan, like she said?” Mustang asked.

“You know how it is, sir,” Gruber admitted. “Civilians aren’t allowed payment plans.”

“Civilians?” Becca asked, sitting up quickly. “Who can?”

“Well, active military is, but-”

Becca tuned him out, staring blankly ahead as she thought back to everything- her father’s notes, the transmutation, her newfound abilities- then spun to get the colonel’s attention. “I need to do that. I need to join.”

“Miss Harper,” Mustang said, giving her a look. “You can’t just-”

“They wanted Fullmetal, they’ll want me too, right?” Becca said. “I’m like him, I can-”

“Like Fullmetal?” Mustang said disbelievingly.

Becca froze, realizing she might have said too much. “I mean-”

She couldn’t try to back out since the colonel had already moved to grip her forearm. Mustang pulled her up from her seat harshly and gave a curt, “I’ll take care of this, Private. Continue on.”

---

“That sounds like the colonel,” Elric muttered.

Becca shot him a hesitant smile. “It didn’t seem too out of character,” she agreed. “But either way, Mustang pushed for my test to get sped up over the last few days, but I just got certified yesterday. I’m not trying to get your pity, or- or use this just because I can, or anything like that, I just- I’d rather stay in Adethal and never use alchemy again, but I have to do this. It was my fault, and I have to- to just live with it. My mom and I… we don’t have any other possibilities.” She scrunched her face up, taking a shaky breath. “I’m sorry, I just- the circumstances don’t make it okay, but I thought- I assumed you would understand more than anyone else-”

A large metal hand on her shoulder cut off Becca’s rambling. She looked up to see Alphonse hovering above her. “We do,” he said gently. “Right, brother?”

Elric stood up slowly, stalking over to her. Becca bowed her head until she felt a smaller hand on her other shoulder and looked up, shocked. The blonde sighed loudly, but allowed a small smile. “Yeah, I guess we do.”

Becca sucked in a surprised breath, trying to fight the first genuine smile that had tugged at her lips in months. “Thanks, Fullmetal.”

He made a face, clearly displeased. “Ugh. If we’re going to work together, you can call me Ed.”

Becca couldn’t help it. With that permission, she felt so relieved that she just giggled. “In that case, you can call me Becca. My parents are the only ones who ever called me Rebecca.” 

When she looked up, she noted a pink tint on Edward’s cheeks before he shot her a smile and retreated. He sat back down on the other chair and quickly grew more somber. Becca sensed the energy in the air change, so she settled back into her seat, preparing to hear the other end of their deal.

“Adethal is between here and Central, right?” Ed asked. Becca nodded, and he clarified, “We’re from down south then. Resembool…”

Notes:

i hope you and your loved ones are staying healthy and safe, and i'll see you all in the next update! -c

Chapter 3: vellichor

Notes:

hey dears!

holy crap this chapter gave me a lot of trouble! i promise future updates won't take so long. i'm hoping for a schedule of one chapter every other thursday, but i'll have to try that for a few chapters and maybe adjust (if i get a little bit ahead it might get bumped to every thursday but we will see).

anyway, i think the reason this chapter gave me so much trouble was because we didn't get to see much of becca's mom in the last chapter, so i wanted to establish their relationship and i definitely didn't want to make becca sound like a brat, so please let me know if it come off that way so i can do some editing.

last note, i changed katja from the last chapter to victor. not a major change, just a gender switch, but i just wanted to let you know that those two are one in the same so no one got confused.

vellichor (noun)- the strange wistfulness of used bookstores

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

After an exhaustive morning listening to the Elrics story just as they had listened to hers, Becca insisted that they go get a late breakfast before they were supposed to meet Colonel Mustang. Becca had seen a bakery on her walk over that morning and Ed hadn’t put up much of a fight after smelling the various goods baking inside. It had only taken a few minutes and then they were out in the street again, Becca carrying a milk roll and Ed munching on several pastries at once.

“These are good,” Ed said, mouth full.

“Brother, you’re spitting everywhere,” Al complained.

Ed just took one of his gloved hands and wiped the crumbs from his mouth before asking, “See anything in there you want to add to your list, Al?”

“List?” Becca asked, interested.

“My list of foods I want to eat when I get my body back,” Alphonse explained. 

Becca felt her heart melt slightly at that. She’d been told about their plans and eagerly agreed to help as much as she could, and she just grinned up at him, patting his arm. “Then have I got the place for you. That place was good, but Victor’s in Adethal? Heaven on Earth.” 

She started describing the cinnamon pastry Victor had created for the last winter solstice, but was cut off by Ed declaring that nothing could compare to their friend’s apple pie from back home. As they walked and debated, Becca made a face, making Edward laugh. Becca hesitated, then smiled in response. Maybe this won’t be so bad after all, she thought to herself, pushing a hand through her hair as their playful argument was interrupted by Alphonse offering his own opinion on the matter.

---

“Fullmetal, try not to get crumbs all over my carpet,” Mustang requested sardonically, herding all three of them into his office. Ed stuck his tongue out and Becca laughed as the colonel flashed a disgusted look at the half chewed pastry bits. He rolled his eyes, and said, “At least you two are getting along.”

Ed waved him off. “Yeah, yeah. What did you want?”

Mustang pressed his lips together, letting out a heavy sigh, then gave Becca and Ed a sheaf of papers each. “A rogue alchemist has been on a rampage in Central City. We’re all being called in to help track him down. I have a few things I need to finish up here, so I’ll be catching up in a few days. Havoc has gone to sort out your train tickets, but once you’ve got those, you can head out to the station.”

“Brother and my things are outside, but we’ll need to stop wherever Becca left her things for the night,” Al pointed out.

Becca flushed. “Well, actually, I- I kind of left Adethal in a bit of a rush.” Edward and Mustang both gave her an incredulous look, making her cheeks even redder. “I pretty much just… left with what I had.”

Mustang closed his eyes, massaging around his eyes. “Alright. I’ll call Havoc to rearrange your tickets for a stop in Adethal, but please don’t dawdle.”

“You don’t have to worry about that, sir,” Becca said, flipping through her papers.

Alphonse’s metal hand came to rest on her shoulder, surprisingly gentle, and grounded Becca as Edward sent a few more cracks Mustang’s way. She laughed, up until their commanding officer reached his boiling point, shouting the three of them out of the room.

“See you in Central, Colonel Bastard!” Ed crowed joyfully a mere second before the door slammed. 

Becca stared at him, slightly awed. “How do you just talk to him like that?” she asked. “Aren’t you scared that he’ll do something to you?”

“Nah,” Ed said flippantly. He grabbed his suitcase, throwing it over his shoulder easily with his automail arm. He shot her a wide grin, one that she was quickly finding impossible to not respond in kind to, then called out a general farewell to Mustang’s officers. “You guys ready to go?”

“Ready, Brother,” Al responded.

“Yeah,” Becca said after a moment, unable to stop a newfound fondness from leaking into her voice. “Yeah,” she said again, more confidently. “Let’s get out of here.”

---

After a train ride that was far too quick for Becca’s taste, she found herself guiding the silent Elrics through the bustling streets of Adethal. It seemed like they’d picked up on Becca’s growing anxiety, so they’d mostly left her alone on the ride, even as Becca’s expression shifted from a comfortable, if vague, smile into somber frown as she stared out the window. Now, however, Becca couldn’t exactly avoid their questioning looks when she deliberately slowed down approaching her front gate.

She shot them a hopeful smile and pushed the gate open. She led the brothers through the garden, about to unlock the front door when Al’s voice brought her to a halt.

“Are those yours?” he asked.

Becca turned, confused, then laughed slightly. Al had stopped by the two pairs of handprints imprinted in the walkway. “Yeah,” she said, reminiscing on the blissful afternoon of laughter after Will had transmuted the cement back to its liquid form and both of them had left their marks. “Oh, Dad wasn’t happy with us that day…” she muttered. “But Louisa wouldn’t let him undo it.” She suddenly realized how tense she’d become and slowly breathed out, releasing all the tension in her shoulders. “Into the lion’s den, I suppose,” she said, reaching for her key and unlocking the door. “Come on in,” she invited.

Becca pulled off her too big coat, hanging it just inside. She could hear some cheesy radio show blaring from a room upstairs.

“Mom?” she called.

“Rebecca!” her mother responded. She heard her long strides before her mother appeared at the top of the staircase. Despite the fact that it was near noon, she was dressed in her long robe, the end dragging on the steps behind her as she descended. She was wearing a simple white dress underneath, but Becca still had to resist the urge to snap at her mother to please put on some actual clothes. Her gray eyes were fixated on the compact mirror she was holding, and Becca considered it a miracle that she hadn’t tripped coming down the stairs. “Good, you’re back. Victor’s been checking in on me, but I couldn’t ask her to just leave the business to help me like you do- you know Victor, right?”

“I’ve known him my whole life, Mom,” Becca said. She could sense the Elrics shuffling behind her as she tried to dispel the rigid awkwardness that had fallen over the room. “And I’m only back for a few days, I’ll have to go to-”

“Of course, darling,” her mother replied, completely oblivious to anything that wasn’t her, as usual. “So you’ll need to run to the shops before dinner-” She stopped at the foot of the stairs, finally looking around and noticing Ed and Al. Her face flushed almost unnoticeably. “Rebecca, you didn’t say you’d be bringing back guests.”

Becca shrugged. She was aware that she looked like a sulking child, but she couldn’t find the will to care. That one ounce of freedom she’d experienced was suddenly quelled just by being back in the house. “This is Edward and Alphonse Elric. Ed and Al, this is my mother, Nora Brand.”

“Nice to meet you,” Alphonse said, although his demeanor was significantly less sweet than Becca had seen. Edward still looked too uncomfortable to say anything.

“A pleasure,” her mom said airily, barely acknowledging any of them as she went about fluffing and fixing her hair.

“Mom, have you gone out at all while I’ve been gone?” Becca asked. She meandered into the kitchen and leaned on the table, scanning the room to make sure that nothing was out of place to keep her mind off of the nauseating anxiety that was boiling just under her skin.

“Of course, I went to the opera just the other night with Mr. Walden-”

Becca groaned. “Mr. Walden, as in the one married to Mrs. Walden?”

Her mother laughed, a high, tinkling noise that Becca was glad to have not inherited. “You’re hilarious, dear. It wasn’t like that at all.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m sure,” Becca muttered. She sighed heavily, standing back up. “I’ll go by the stores as soon as I can.” She gave her mother a look. “I’m going to get the Elrics settled in my room while you finish getting ready.” Gesturing for the boys to follow her, Becca hurried up the stairs before her mom could respond. She was careful not to look behind her, even as she heard her mother laugh again.

Someone shut the door. Ed let out a quiet, “Wow.”

“So that’s your mom?” Al said rhetorically.

Becca forced out a laugh. “Yeah,” she confirmed. “Yeah, that’s why Louisa raised me.” She shook herself off, trying to busy herself by puttering about the bedroom. The curtains separating Will’s bed from hers were pulled shut, so she threw them open, then went to shake out the familiar blanket. “Ed, you can sleep here,” she said, opening the window, letting fresh air in. “And Al, you can check out any of the books on the shelf, or I can show you to my father’s study-”

When she turned around, Alphonse had already started perusing the bookshelf. He turned to her, joy reflected in his body language as he clutched an old volume of fairy tales. “We had this book when we were little!” he said excitedly. “Right, Brother?”

Becca looked over at Ed, who was still standing by the door. “I- yeah. I remember Mom reading us that stuff.” The strange expression that had been on his face since they’d entered the room finally fell away as he leaned to peer at the book. “We haven’t heard one of those in years.”

“Well, have at it,” Becca said. “I have to go take care of everything and- and explain things to my mom, so… I’ll let you know when I make lunch.”

Ed looked up, furrowing his brow. “You just got home. What do you even need to do?”

Becca blinked, the pink blush that seemed to have found a permanent home on her cheeks rising up again. “Well, I- I need to go see what’s in the kitchen and do some planning after lunch, then run out for groceries, and probably set up a new account at the bank- not to mention sending something around to Victor to thank him-”

“We’ll help,” Al said. “We won’t just sit around while you’re working.”

“You really don’t have to-”

“Becca, you’re our friend,” Alphonse said, firmly putting an end to the discussion. “Of course we’ll help you out.”

“After we eat, right?” Edward asked.

A small smile spread over Becca’s face. “Yeah- yeah. Let’s go get something to eat.”

---

“So I’ll need some fruit preserves... oh, or jams or something, and bread, then we can make sandwiches for the train tomorrow, Ed,” Becca catalogued, writing a few items down on her growing list. “We should be able to get those, and all the normal things on Main Street.”

Ed finished lacing up his boot, holding an apple in his teeth, then gave her a thumbs up.

“Do you need to tell your mom you’re leaving?” Al asked.

No, Becca thought, trying to clench her teeth against the bitter words she wanted to voice. “She’s probably still getting ready, I can just leave a note.” She won’t bother looking for it, her mind whispered before Becca had forced the thought away. She scribbled a few words onto a scrap of paper, then forced a smile. “Now come on, I have so much I want to show you.”

---

After a frankly ridiculous amount of arguing over prices ( Seriously, you leave town for a few days and people think you’ve forgotten how to bargain ), Becca guided the Elrics through the garden as the sun set. “Okay, so I just need to pack my things tonight and we can catch the early train tomorrow morning and be in Central by noon.” She pushed the door open, shrugging her long coat off. A note was stuck on the mirror next to the coat rack, reading:

Rebecca,

Mr. Pratchett has invited me for dinner and drinks. Make sure the house is tidied up before you go to bed.

-Mom

Becca bit her lip, crumpling the paper up as she lifted the groceries onto her hip.

“Everything okay?” Ed asked.

“My mom’s gone out with a married man again.” Becca shrugged and gestured the brothers into the kitchen to set their bags on the counter. She tried to move on quickly, dismissing the subject with a curt,“Nothing out of the ordinary. Anyone hungry?”

Luckily, no one pushed the issue and Becca set about cooking a few chicken breasts for soup. While Alphonse hovered in the doorway, Edward had wandered somewhere into the rest of the house. Becca had yet to actually be alone with the younger Elric and she found herself unable to come up with anything to say at all. Not for the first time, and almost definitely not for the last, she wanted to curse her father and his insistence she skip out on school with other children when she had the chance. At least, Becca comforted herself, Al didn’t seem to mind the quiet atmosphere, broken only by the sounds of the oil heating up in its pan and Becca bustling around to start cooking some vegetables. Even so, it didn’t seem the comfortable silence could last forever.

“Becca?” Al asked, his childlike voice still a bit jolting, especially with the hesitant tone he was using now.

“Hm?”

“The bed you gave Brother- was that your brother’s?”

Becca inhaled sharply and she heard Alphonse hurry to apologize, but she shook her head to stop and reassure him, “Don’t worry about it, really. I just haven’t had anyone be that blunt with me for a long time, so it took me by surprise.” She shot him a half smile before forcing herself to focus on draining the cooked chicken for broth, then cutting the chicken, not mentioning that the last person to speak so directly about what they wanted had probably been Will himself. “But yeah, that was Will’s. It’ll be nice to know someone is using it. No one has since he left.”

“You don’t mind?” he said curiously.

“No, I swear,” Becca said. “It might be a little weird, but I grew up with someone sleeping there, so it’s honestly been weirder sleeping in that room by myself.”

Alphonse laughed- no, that wasn’t the right word, he outright giggled. “I get that. Even when I did have my body, Brother and I always shared a room and he would always get allergies in the spring. I can’t imagine not hearing him snore, even if it did keep me awake.”

“God, Al, why didn’t you tell me he snores? I would have put him on the couch if I knew that,” Becca teased.

Al laughed again and promised, “Don’t worry, he only snores when his allergies get bad-”

“I do not have allergies,” Edward protested suddenly. He appeared in the doorway, cheeks red. “I haven’t had allergies since I was like, eight!”

“Sure, Brother,” Becca could practically hear the eye roll in Al’s voice as he said, “I guess I’ve just imagined them for the last seven years.”

Ed made a face at him, then pushed past his brother and jumped up to sit on the countertop. “Anyway,” he said resolutely, his face slowly losing its blush. “Do you know if your dad studied anything that could help us get Al’s body back?”

Becca’s mouth twisted slightly, considering the question. “He didn’t study anything like bioalchemy,” she said slowly. “But I guess I never really thought about that. Honestly, I saw his journal, got my memory back, and locked his entire study. I was going to unlock it for Al to look at tonight if he wanted to, but I can do it after dinner if you want to take a look.”

Edward smiled brightly. “That would be great,” he said, and Becca was struck by the realization that this was the first time she could even imagine him as the teenager he actually was. When her father had talked about the Fullmetal Alchemist, he had been set as this great, unreachable standard, simultaneously a goal to strive for and an idol she couldn’t hope to even come close to. When she’d actually met him, however, he was still this authority figure, someone she had to impress even though they both held the same level. Even after they had made up and become something resembling friends, he seemed to hold himself back. He had hardly talked all through the day after they’d arrived at the house, and when Becca looked his way, he always seemed to be giving her a calculating look. She blinked, clearing her head in time to hear him finish, “...we can still learn something new.” 

Becca nodded quickly. “I’ll do that before I leave then.”

“You’re leaving?” Al asked.

“I’m just going next door to thank Victor for checking in on my mom.” She looked over at the brothers, noticing Ed give a slight eye roll. Becca raised a brow. “It won’t take long,” she said slowly. “Is that okay?”

Edward huffed lightly and looked away. Becca could only imagine the look Alphonse shot his brother before he assured, “It’s not a problem, Becca.” He grabbed Ed’s upper arm, along with the stack of bowls and spoons Becca had set out, and said, “We’ll start setting the table while you finish,” basically pulling his brother out of the kitchen.

Becca looked down at the pot, then back up at the swinging door. “Alright,” she said quietly, hyperaware that no one was listening.

---

Luckily, the atmosphere had lightened slightly as they sat down for dinner. The brothers had set out two places and Becca was quick to fill the bowls and sit down. Ed seemed too busy eating to pick up whatever odd staring he was doing, and Al, even though he couldn’t eat, was keeping the discussion off of anything too deep by asking about the few pictures hanging on the wall. Becca didn’t mind explaining while she ate, and, before she knew it, her spoon was scraping at an empty bowl. She looked down, surprised.

“What’s wrong?” Alphonse asked.

“Nothing, I just-” Becca stopped suddenly, aware that she couldn’t just blurt out anything about her eating issues, especially with the looks Ed had already been giving her. “Mealtime passes quicker than I’m used to with other people, I guess.” She stood up, pushing the larger pot towards Ed, who was on his third helping and wasn’t slowing down. “I hate to cut this short, but I need to go speak with Victor. I’m gonna go grab some shoes and unlock the study. It’s upstairs, the only door on the left. Go nuts over anything in there.”

“Alright,” Al said. “Thank you for letting us-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Becca said dismissively.

“See you later then,” Ed said, waving. 

Becca gave him a small wave in return before she bounded up the stairs to grab her more comfortable flat shoes and her key ring. After opening the study door, she headed for the door, significantly quieter going down the stairs than she had been going up. As she passed the kitchen, she noticed the Elrics bent over, murmuring to each other, then hurried outside into the night. She didn’t have to take more than a few steps outside her gate before she was swept into a pair of familiar arms.

“Where have you been?” Victor demanded. “I was worried sick!”

Becca smiled guiltily, pulling her State Alchemist watch out from its pocket. “Can we discuss this inside?”

Victor stared at the watch, then looked up at Becca, clearly stunned. “My God.” He looked around, lowering his voice significantly. “Is that… him? That big armored guy I saw earlier?”

Becca shook her head. “You won’t believe this. Come on, I’ll tell you inside.”

Victor rolled his eyes, practically dragging her the rest of the way to his house. She was firmly sat down in front of the fireplace and a plate of samples was placed in front of her before Victor sank into the cushy armchair opposite her and crossed his legs. “Okay, tell me everything.”

“Well, first of all, the Fullmetal Alchemist isn’t the big one in the armor…”

As she talked, Victor’s face seemed to slowly fall with every bit of the story. She left out the bit about the Elrics’ bodies, assuming that the less people who knew about any of them, the better for everyone. However, when she told him about how Will had escaped custody, he sighed heavily, running his hand down his face.

“I can’t believe he’d…”

“I didn’t think he would either.” Gingerly, Becca raised a hand to touch the mark on her throat, casting her eyes down to stare into the fire. “Next time, I won’t be surprised. I’ll be prepared.” She glanced up, and, upon seeing Victor’s pained look, defensively reassured him, “I won’t kill him or anything!”
Victor sighed again and closed his eyes. “I know, I just- I missed him, and this is the only news I can get? It- it sucks.”

Becca reached over, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tightly. “I know. I’m going to try to get through to him whenever he finds me again. He’s my brother, and I’m not letting him go that easily.”

“I know you won’t,” Victor said, shoving her playfully and trying to lighten the mood. “You’ve both always been stubborn with each other. I’d be more concerned if you were planning to just let him be.”

Becca smiled slightly, but she knew she had to steer the conversation onto a more serious track. She’d come over alone for a reason, after all. She cleared her throat, moving the untouched plate of baked goods aside. “Look, Victor, I did have a favor to ask you. I- I haven’t told my mom, or the Elrics, but I have a lot I need to take care of. You know about Dad’s debt. It’s a lot. I don’t think I’ll be back for a long time. I don’t want to come home until I take care of everything. I don’t want to take breaks. But my mom-” She took a deep breath and decided to just come out with her request. “-would you mind checking in on her whenever you can?” She looked up at Victor’s face to see him staring back at her, confused, and rushed to cover. “I know it’s kind of a lot to ask, and she can be… well, difficult-”

“Becca?”

“But she’s still my mom-”

“Becca…”

“And I still want her to be taken care of-”

“Becca!” Victor said loudly. Becca shut her mouth, meeting his eyes quickly. He mimicked her wide eyed expression, then let his face fall into an easy smile. “It won’t be a problem.”

A heavy breath Becca hadn’t realized she’d been holding suddenly broke free, alongside a smile. “Thank you,” she said gratefully. “I’ll send money-”

“Don’t you dare,” Victor interrupted. “I make plenty here. You need to save your money for that debt and for emergencies so you can come back home sooner.”

“But-”

“If you absolutely need to pay me back, then I have something.” Victor stood up, stretched, and made his way over to a chest of drawers. He pulled out a sealed envelope and handed it over. Becca let out a small “oh” upon seeing the name written in careful calligraphy on the front.

“For Will,” she said reverently.

“Get that to him if you get the chance,” Victor said in a quiet voice, “and we’ll call it even.”

Becca’s breath caught in her throat and she practically threw herself out of her chair, hugging Victor tightly. “Thank you for believing in him,” she mumbled. “I’ll bring him home.”

“I know you will,” Victor said, his arms coming to wrap around her torso. Becca didn’t know how long she stayed in the familiar, brotherly embrace, but, she found, it didn’t feel long enough.

After quick goodbyes and a promise to write if anything major happened, Becca hurried through the dark to her home, but climbed the stairs as quietly as she could. She stopped to toss her shoes into her bedroom and slip Victor’s letter into her suitcase, then knocked on the study door before poking her head in. She blinked slowly, taking everything in and truly observing the room. It suddenly occurred to her that this was the first time she’d actually wanted to be in the study since her father’s death, and she almost wondered if maybe it wasn’t such a good idea for her to come in and risk triggering some sort of relapse into her Gate, but she barely had time to consider the possibility before Ed’s voice jolted her from her thoughts.

“We went ahead and did the dishes,” he informed her without looking up from the notes he was scribbling into a journal, “so you don’t have to worry about doing that and you can just pack tonight.”

Becca glanced over at him, then Al, but Ed glanced up at her for only a moment before screwing his gaze onto the papers in front of him. Al chuckled, then shrugged discreetly at Becca’s questioning look. She smiled slightly and sincerely said, “Thank you.”

Thank you for not questioning this. Thank you for acting like this is all normal. Thank you for letting me in. Thank you for being my friends.

She sat down on the carpet near the desk and asked, “So what are we working on?”, crossing her legs and leaning forward as one thought continued to press through her thoughts.

Thank you.

---

Al insisted she take a break somewhere in the middle of their studying to pack her things so she wouldn’t have to risk forgetting something when they actually left, so Becca wound up neatly stacking the few belongings she thought were worth dragging all over Amestris into her suitcase. She was eager to return to the research though, so she gave only a cursory glance around the room before deciding that she had enough and opened the door to go back to the study. On the way out, she caught sight of herself in the mirror propped up against a wall and took a moment to observe herself for the first time in what felt like forever.

Her hair had gotten noticeably longer in the months since her father had died and stopped enforcing his rules, probably longer than it had ever been. I look like Mom, she thought. The image of her mother’s long, cascading brown locks made her scrunch her nose up and reach for a ponytail to pull her hair into a bun. Once her hair was out of the way, however, her eyes fell to the healing wound on her throat. Unconsciously, her hand came up to rest on the scab and she hissed, quickly pulling away. She couldn’t stop staring at the damn thing.

“Becca?” someone said. Becca flinched, turning to Ed with a gasp, who held his hands out in a surrendering motion and said, “You’ve been gone for a while, I was just coming to check on you.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Becca said quickly. “I didn’t mean to drag you away from your research, I’ll be back in just a sec-”

“Whoa, hey, it’s okay,” Ed assured, looking confused. He hesitated for a few seconds, then asked, “Is everything okay?”

Becca looked back in the mirror. “Yeah. Sorry,” she said again. “It’s just- I was just thinking about how that’s definitely going to scar.” It took her a moment to realize how tactless that could sound, talking to someone with not one, but two automail limbs, which had to have come with massive scars of their own, but once it registered, she clapped a hand over her mouth. “Oh, my God,” she said, voice muffled. “I’m so sorry-”

And yet Ed was quick to hold up a hand and cut her off. “Stop apologizing. It’s fine. I knew what I was getting into” She could feel his eyes scanning her neck until he noted, “At least I can easily cover mine up.”

“Sorry-” Becca started again, but was stopped by Ed raising a brow at her. She bit her lip awkwardly, then whispered, “Sorry.” Ed rolled his eyes, but Becca was already moving onto the next part of his sentence. Covering it up, she contemplated, scrutinizing her room. Her eyes fell on her jewelry box and she let out an audible, “Aha!” when she came up with an idea. “I’m sure I have an old necklace in here,” she said, mostly talking to herself. She indeed found a silver necklace her mother had given her when she hadn’t liked it anymore. A charm engraved with some flower hung off the chain, making it even more perfect for Becca’s use. “And if I can guess the makeup correctly,” she said, touching her hands together and placing them on the necklace. When the alchemic energy faded, Becca had transmuted the flower charm into a symbol she and Ed both recognized.

“Mercury,” Ed said.

“Quicksilver,” Becca corrected as she clipped the necklace on. It fit like a choker, the charm resting right over the scar. She checked it in the mirror and made sure it would cover the scar, then took it off so there wouldn’t be a risk of infection and tossed it into a side pocket of her suitcase. “At least I can use my dad’s symbol for something useful.”

Ed blinked, but brushed it off. “Hell yeah,” he said. “Come on, let’s go back. Al and I have a few questions about your dad back in his glory days.”

Walking back to the study, Becca answered a few of Ed’s questions with stories that her father had told her over the years.

“So he could harden the mercury into weapons? How did he do that without getting frostbite?”

“Really thick gloves with the circles on them,” Becca admitted. “I think that’s where the colonel got the idea, honestly.”

“And no one ever questioned him about it?”

Becca laughed. “Well, he actually worked in the North before I was born, so it wasn’t all that weird. Then he was transferred to the military academy that was here during Ishval, so he didn’t see much action since he was training all the actual recruits.” She went quiet, then thoughtfully said, “Then he was called into Ishval with the other alchemists. I assume they had bigger things to worry about there, and he failed his recertification pretty much right after. I don’t know where the gloves went, though. I think Will might have taken them when he left.”

“Damn.”

“Sorry.”

Ed shoved her slightly. “Stop apologizing, seriously. It’s not your fault.”

Becca bit her tongue to stop another instinctive “sorry”. “Either way,” she said quickly, trying to move on. “He never got around to teaching the technique to me, but I’m sure it’s coded into his research somewhere. If we can’t crack it tonight, we can take some of it with us.”

They returned to the study to find Al still enthralled in an old alchemy book. Becca sighed fondly upon recognizing it.  It had been her father’s first resource, then Will’s, then hers, and she could see the familiar wear even from across the room. Her fondness quickly turned to self-consciousness when Al looked up at them and delightedly asked, “Becca, are the notes in purple crayon yours?”

Her face went red and she groaned, her head in her hands as Ed laughed. “I forgot about those.”

Ed peered over his brother’s shoulder and laughed harder. “You misspelled energy.”

Becca groaned.

“And you crossed out mercury on the periodic table and wrote quicksilver,” he said gleefully.

“Oh, shut up!” she grumbled. “Other than stuff like that, that book is really helpful. I’d recommend it if you haven’t read it already.”

“I’ll read it tonight,” Al said.

“Actually,” Ed interrupted. “If it’s okay with you, I think we should pack that up and take it with us.” He looked over to Becca, and didn’t continue until she nodded her assent. “Al, Becca was telling me about how her dad’s notes are probably coded. I think we should focus on that.”

Al nodded, closing the old book. “That makes sense, so we can decipher as much as possible and not take as much with us.” He sat up, reaching for a few spare pieces of paper. Ed seemed to take this as an invitation and grabbed Becca’s hand, pulling her to sit down next to them. 

“Where should we start?”

---

In the end, they stayed up much later than they should have, considering the early train they’d have to catch. Alphonse had to half-drag, half-carry Edward to his bed after he’d caught him dozing off for the third time, and Becca was hardly any better. However, after she’d reassured Al that he didn’t have to move all their research into the bedroom and that he was right across the hall if they needed him, she sat up in bed, pulling her shoes on for the last visit she had to make before leaving. She wrapped a long, pale pink blanket around herself and opened the window, letting cold air spill into the room. She winced as she heard Ed’s bed shift, but after waiting a few moments and not hearing any other signs of him being roused, she slipped out of the window and scurried down the same tree Will had many years ago.

She dropped to the ground into a crouch, noticing a few brightly colored wildflowers in the moonlight. She bent down to pick a few before tugging her blanket a bit tighter against the night chill and starting her journey to the cemetery on the hill.

The gate creaked too loudly in the otherwise silent night, but Becca ignored it. She had set her sights on the familiar headstone and nothing was going to deter her now. The headstone was well taken care of, neatly cleaned of any debris. Becca could only hope it would stay that way after she was gone. She knelt before the stone and closed her eyes.

“Hi,” she murmured. “It’s me. I have so much to tell you.” Becca leaned back, sitting cross legged on the grass as she recounted everything that had happened since she’d last visited Louisa’s grave, from the military letter and her testing process to her assignment under one of her father’s former students and her new partner. “We ran into Will, too,” she confessed, yawning. “He caught me by surprise. It was like when we were younger, but more… real.” She ran a hand over the engraving. “Don’t worry though. I’m not giving up on him. I’ve waited three years to hug my brother again, I can wait a little longer. I’ll hug him for both of us, okay? And I’ll tell him how much you missed him. How much you loved him.” She closed her eyes again against the tears that threatened to spill. “He thought we stopped loving him, but I’ll make sure he knows we didn’t. We all got manipulated by Dad, even more than we knew.” She let her head fall against Louisa’s name and let a few tears fall. She only gave herself a few moments before she stood up, hand resting on the top of the headstone. “I’m leaving for a long time. But I’ll be back. And Will will be with me. I’ll bring him home.” She bent over and pressed a kiss to the headstone. She stood in silence for a few moments, just absorbing the quiet night and letting her hand warm the cold stone. “I love you,” she said. No one replied, but a cool breeze blew over Becca’s skin and she sighed, feeling a little more at peace with the world than she had an hour prior. Without another word, she gathered up the long blanket and made her way by moonlight back to the base of the tree outside her window. She jumped up and climbed back into her bedroom, closing the window behind her.

“Becca?” Ed’s sleepy voice asked. “What are you-”

“I just had to do something,” Becca whispered. “Don’t worry about it, go back to sleep. I’m going to bed now.”

Ed made a sound, apparently an affirmation, then rolled over. Becca climbed into bed, hardly remembering to kick off her shoes before she was asleep.

---

“Becca,” a familiar voice whispered. Becca groaned, cringing away from the voice. “Come on, it’s three-thirty. We gotta get going soon.” She opened her eyes to see Al’s steel mask hovering over her.

She yawned, sitting up and stretching. “Thanks, Al. Did you already wake Ed up?”

Al nodded. “He’s deciding which of your dad’s books he wants to bring.”

“Great.” Becca kicked off the blanket she’d wrapped herself in and realized she hadn’t changed before she’d fallen asleep the night before. She sighed heavily. “I’ll go make some food for the road after I change into some fresh clothes if you want to go pick a few books out too.”

Al nodded. “I’ll make sure Brother is ready to meet you downstairs in fifteen minutes so we can leave.”

“Sounds good.” Becca followed him out of the room and crept down the hallway to the bathroom, holding her bundle of clothes. She was quick to close the door and shuck off her old clothes in favor of one of her mother’s robes hanging on the back of the door in order to wash her face and at least feel a bit fresher before they left. After brushing the dirt from the last few days off of her face with a washcloth, she pulled on the new outfit she’d picked out. Examining herself carefully in the mirror, she adjusted the fitted blue top and gray pants slightly so no fabric bunched up, then brushed a hand through her hair, which had frizzed up slightly during her quick dressing. She tiptoed past her mother’s bedroom, but it appeared she couldn’t be as lucky the second time.

“Rebecca, what are you doing?”

Becca froze as her mother appeared in her doorway. She was clearly still tipsy from her night out, stumbling slightly, but more awake than Becca would have preferred. Becca stared, petrified, until her mother clicked her fingers and snapped, “Rebecca, I asked what you were doing. I got home late, you know that. I need my beauty sleep.”

“We- the Elrics and I- we’re getting ready to leave. We’ll be going soon.”

Her mom rolled her eyes. “Well, darling, that’s very nice that you want to see them out, but I really don’t see a need this early.”

“No, we’re leaving,” Becca said again. “I have to go too, he’s my partner. I told you when I first got here, you said-”

“You did not tell me anything of the sort,” her mother said stonily.

“I did,” Becca insisted. “I already talked to Victor, he’ll be-”

“It isn’t Victor’s job to take care of me. You’re my child, not him. He has a business to take care of.”

“And I have a job! A job I had to get because Dad-”

“You said you were going to get the debt taken care of!”

“I tried calling you to give you updates, but you never picked up-”

“That’s hardly an excuse! You should have considered me. You’re not the only one who’s affected by your choices-”

“Can you let me finish one sentence?” Becca hissed, trying to keep her volume low “I had to travel to the city by myself to sort out an issue that was in no way my fault, and I had to take some drastic measures so it wouldn’t affect you and our living situation. It’s an adjustment for both of us.”

Her mother rolled her eyes, flaring her nostrils slightly. “I just think it was selfish of you to make this big change without thinking of how it would affect me.”

Becca’s jaw dropped. “I’m selfish?” she said, taken aback. “ I’m selfish?” Her volume raised exponentially, but she found that, once she started shouting, she couldn’t stop, even as she saw the Elric brothers leave the study out of the corner of her eye. “ I was the one who went to sort out Dad’s mess, by myself, in a city I’d never been to before! I’m the one who took a new job to make sure that you’re able to stay in this house and not get kicked out onto the street! And hell, I’ve been the one doing everything since Dad died! And even before that! I took care of you, I tried so hard to fulfill Dad’s dream of his legacy, all while the only adult in the house who ever actually loved me was dying!” Undiluted rage that she hadn’t allowed herself to feel in years was all suddenly bubbling to the surface and she kept going, angry tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m thirteen! I should be worried about boys and homework and what I want to do when I grow up! But no, I’ve been spending my entire life trying to please my parents, the only ones in the world who were supposed to love me unconditionally! You’ve never done a damn thing for me!”

Her mother still stood in front of her, tall and proud. “I gave birth to you. I lost my family, access to my wealth, all my status, for you-”

“You gave that up because you bet on Dad being your new status symbol and you bet wrong! You only gave birth to me to tie yourself to him, and if I’m not here, serving you, you probably regret it!”

She briefly met a stunned looking Ed’s eye. Al’s armour creaked as he stepped forward. “Becca-”

Becca blocked him out, barrelling on. “I’m keeping this job, and I’m going to keep sending money for you, because you’re my mother. But I will not be contacting you. I will not be at your beck and call.” She stormed away from her, slamming her bedroom door open and grabbing her suitcase before stomping down the stairs to get her coat and boots, both Elrics following her quickly.

“Rebecca!” her mother called angrily. “Get back up here-!”

“No! I’m your daughter, not your servant!” Becca laced up her boot and grabbed her suitcase, her hand on the doorknob. “I finally learned that this is my life, and I’m not letting you run it anymore!” 

Her mom appeared at the top of the stairs. “You leave now and you’re not welcome back, understood?” Becca’s breath caught. She looked around, her eyes tracing over the only home she’d ever known. The ever unchanging furniture was etched into her memory, along with all the happy moments that had been shared with Louisa and Will. She hesitated. Her mother smirked. “Come on, now, dear. Say goodbye to your friends and come back upstairs. We will discuss this more in the morning.”

Looking up at her mother, Becca was struck by how often she’d wished she could have done what she was doing now: run away. Come to think of it, she couldn’t remember feeling happy in this house since her father’s death- maybe even since Louisa’s. She looked around again. This isn’t home, she thought, lip quivering. Not anymore. Not with her.

Becca turned away from her mom, opening the door quickly. Without another word, she walked slowly into the garden. She felt like she was in a trance, one step after another, until she had locked the front gate behind her and became aware of someone shaking her shoulder and calling her name.

She took a shallow breath, realizing what she’d done. Without her consent, the tears in her eyes started rolling down her cheeks, and whoever was shaking her abruptly stopped. Before she could ask, she found herself immersed in a sea of red. Someone was hugging her. Another pair of larger hands found their way around them both. She forced her head up from Ed’s coat, reaching to wipe away her tears as she choked out, “Sorry, I’m sorry, I just-”

“Becca,” Ed said, clear anger just lingering at the edge of his tone. “Do not apologize for that.”

“That was amazing,” Al said from behind her. “You stood up to her. You did the right thing.”

“But I-”

“But nothing,” Ed said firmly. He pulled away and Becca forced herself to focus on gripping the handle of her suitcase as tight as possible rather than how much she missed the small symbol of comfort. “We’ve got a train to catch.”

Becca’s eyes widened in horror. “I forgot the sandwich stuff!”

Both boys laughed, and Ed threw an arm over Becca’s shoulders as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“There’s a dining car,” Ed assured her. “But first, hopefully, we can try and sleep a little more.”

Walking down the moonlit road with two people who she felt like she’d gotten to know more in two days than in thirteen years with her mother, Becca wiped her eyes once more, gave a wet giggle, and started to feel like maybe, just maybe, things would be okay.

Notes:

i hope you and your loved ones are staying healthy and safe, and i'll see you all in the next update! -c

Chapter 4: sonder

Notes:

hello, my dears!

first things first: i want to extend my support and my love to the black community and the black lives matter movement. what's happening in america due to police brutality is absolutely unacceptable. i'm not able to protest, but i've been signing petitions and calling government officials and i strongly encourage everyone else to do the same.

secondly, sorry this is a bit late in the day (well, at least where i am), but i am on time, which is a good thing. we're like thisssss close to finishing all the past/backstory. one more chapter after this and then we'll be all caught up. ch. 5 is already planned and underway so we should be right on track.

there's a few important things in this chapter and a little bit of action, which is nice because i feel like there's been a lot of talking and emotions lately lol. this chapter is actually a bit longer than normal. if it's too long that it's boring or you actually enjoy having a bit more going on, let me know, because i think that'll help me figure out what a good length for you guys would be. as always, also don't hesitate to let me know if there's a mistake so i can edit it out.

sonder (noun)- the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Just as they had been coming into Adethal, their trio was silent leaving it. They loaded up, finding two benches facing each other, and Becca once again found herself leaning against the window. Looking out at the only town she’d ever known as home, she felt her stomach lurch and jerked her gaze away.

“Ed, you want the window seat?” she asked, standing up suddenly. Upon seeing the weird look he gave her, she tried to cover with, “I mean, I had it on the way here.”

“Okay, sure,” Ed said slowly. “Thanks.” Becca had to resist the urge to bang her head against the nearby wall as she slid back onto the other end of the bench. At least she could people watch from this angle. There weren’t any others boarding from Adethal, but she could only assume this train was full of people en route to Central, or possibly even further.

She glanced back over at the brothers. Al had pulled one of her father’s notebooks out and appeared to be cross referencing the notes they had made with some sort of new information. He seemed to pick up on Becca watching him and inclined his helmet towards her. She got the feeling that, if he could, he’d be giving her a serene smile. Ed, on the other hand, was already dozing. Almost unconsciously, Becca’s eyes started scanning the other sleeping passengers and she found herself wondering who they were, what their lives contained. She found herself imagining them, each with a happy life of their own. Some, she figured, had settled down. They were coming home to a family, or their friends. But some struck her more as travellers. She could picture them getting off this train, hurrying across the bustling Central station, from platform to platform, to catch their train north, or maybe south. Perhaps one or two were on their way to Creta.

As the train started moving, Becca’s eyes fluttered. Eventually, whether it was due to the steady rocking of the train or her own imagination wearing her out, Becca was lulled off to sleep.

---

Becca managed to sleep through the acceptable time for breakfast and only woke up when she felt the train jerking to a stop. She started, sitting up so fast that she felt the blood rushing to her head. “What’s happening?” she mumbled while her vision cleared.

She looked over at Ed, who was blinking slowly as he shook himself awake.

“We’re here,” Al informed them, marking and closing his journal.

Ed stood up quicker than Becca and grabbed his suitcase. Becca followed, still rubbing her eyes, then checked her watch and said, “Good news: we’re running on time. Bad news: we haven’t eaten since dinner last night.” As if on cue, Ed’s stomach growled. Becca nodded in his direction and continued, “Do you think the colonel would mind if we got lunch before heading to headquarters? He said not to dawdle-”

“What’s he going to do, yell at us for taking care of ourselves?” Ed said, stretching, as they dismounted the train. He led the way across the platform, decisively saying, “We’ll get lunch in the cafeteria and sneak into one of the briefings with the other soldiers. Hopefully, Colonel Bastard is already on the streets and won’t even notice.”

“Did you even read the briefing from Colonel Mustang, Brother?” Al asked.

Ed’s silence was answer enough. Becca and Al both sighed and he sputtered. “I glanced over it last night!”

“I read it on the train yesterday,” Becca reassured Al. She paused. “But it probably wouldn’t hurt to get updated on what they’re already doing here.” Her stomach growled and she smiled guiltily. “Plus I might be a bit hungry as well.”

Ed grinned at her. “Glad you’re on the right side. Let’s go.”

---

Al, Ed, and Becca were quick to take a few servings of the roasted chicken and potatoes from the cafeteria line, but they had started getting stares in the line and wordlessly opted to eat outside on the large steps leading to the main building. Becca’s stomach was twisting itself into knots as more and more soldiers marched into the city, her heart rate picking up.

What was I thinking? I can’t do this, I can’t hunt a fully grown man, much less take him down! I should have stayed with Mom, I threw everything away for something I can’t even do-

“Becca?”

“Hm?” Becca said, snapping out of her thoughts.

Ed raised an eyebrow at her, but exchanged a look Becca couldn’t quite read with Al and just asked, “Can you give me a run down on this guy?”

“Um- yeah,” Becca said shakily. “The- the Freezing Alchemist, Isaac MacDougal. He went rogue after serving in Ishval.” She swallowed, reaching to flick through the briefing again. “As far as they’ve observed, he’s using the same techniques he used back when he was working with us, which include-” Her eyes went wide and her lip curled in disgust upon reading what MacDougal had been up to. “Ugh. I’m sure you can imagine what someone in control of water can do to a human body.”

“Why’d he come back now?” Al asked.

Becca checked over the few pages of notes she had. “Doesn’t say,” she said with a shrug. “But these are a couple days old. Maybe they figured it out in the meantime?”

Ed groaned. “Does it even matter? The sooner we track this guy down, the sooner we get to get out of here and keep researching-”

“Ah, Fullmetal, Illusion, good to see you two,” someone said. All three of their heads flew towards the easily recognizable voice and Ed and Becca were quick to snap into a salute. Even Al, with no obligation to do so, stood up respectfully and standing more motionless than Becca had seen him be. Fuhrer Bradley waved them off, standing a few steps down from them. “At ease.” He smiled widely. “We’re glad to have you with us in Central, I’m sure you’ve heard all about the situation we’ve gotten ourselves into.”

“We’re- ah- just doing our jobs, sir,” Ed said, clearly flustered.

“Of course, of course,” Bradley said agreeably. “Perhaps you three will be the key to tracking down MacDougal.”

“We were just about to head in and get briefed, sir,” said Becca, trying hard to keep just the right amount of eye contact with Bradley- enough to be respectful, but not threatening, “then heading out to search.” She ignored the fact that that was likely not what they were about to do, if Ed had gotten any say in it, as well as the fact that Bradley had likely picked up on that if he’d heard Ed’s last declaration.

“Well, I hate to distract you, but I actually have some business to discuss with you, Miss Harper.”

She didn’t know what it was about Bradley- maybe it was that he was the head of both the state and military and could have anyone who challenged him disposed of with a word- but being in his very vicinity gave her an uneasy feeling in her gut. Becca gulped, then asked, “Me?”

“Just a quick chat about your financial circumstances,” Bradley said. His tone said he was trying to reassure her, but Becca couldn’t shake the dread that had fallen over her. “I’m sure your companions won’t mind if I steal you away for a few minutes?” She tensed up as his large hand fell onto her shoulder, but didn’t move away. “You two may head into your briefing and Miss Harper and I will take a little walk. We’ll probably be done before you get your orders!” He said with a laugh. Becca forced an awkward laugh, still slightly uncomfortable being casual in any respect with such a powerful man.

She glanced over at Ed, who looked like he felt the same sense of foreboding that she did. “Are you okay with that?” he asked. “We could just wait here-”

Becca considered it for just a moment, but Ed was right. The sooner MacDougal was caught, the sooner they were back on the road. Who was she to halt the Elrics’ quest to regain their bodies? She pasted on a smile and said, “Go ahead. I- I’ll find you later and you can catch me up.” 

That was apparently the right thing to say, since it caused Bradley to remove his hand from her shoulder. He laughed again, shockingly relaxed for someone with an alleged serial killer on the loose in his city who probably had reason to come after him.

“Perfect, come along, Illusion.”

Even though he was no longer touching her, Becca couldn’t help but follow his instructions with a quick glance over her shoulder to see Ed and Al staring bewilderedly after them.

---

The Fuhrer had led Becca to some sort of balcony overlooking a courtyard without saying a word before he finally stopped. Men were standing at attention below her as a superior relayed orders.

“The troops in Central are the pride of Amestris,” he said after a few more moments of silence between them. “Our entire military is undoubtedly a force to be reckoned with, but, not to overstate my own importance, the ones here have some VIPs to protect.”

A show of power, Becca catalogued. She looked around, noting the several armed officers standing at attention nearby. She took a large breath before responding, “Of course, sir.”

Bradley chuckled. “I’m sure you already knew that. Your father, I remember, was particularly eager to join up here... You definitely have the potential he didn’t. You could be important here. I don’t remember when a recruit was actually able to surprise me during the State Alchemist exam without giving an ostentatious performance. You’ll have to ask Fullmetal about his test.”

She nodded slowly, turning to him, tearing her gaze away from the organized lines of soldiers below. He, however, was not looking back at her. “Sir, you have to believe me, my mother and I didn’t know about the debt-”

Bradley held up a hand to stop her. “Relax, Illusion. You’re not being punished further. I only wanted to make sure you were aware of all the conditions of your… commitment. It’s the least I can do for a legacy like yourself.” Although he wasn’t looking at her, he seemed to take her silence as agreement and continued. “As you know, State Alchemists usually make 10,000 cenz per month as compensation for their time, with an additional 2,500 cenz allotted for a private research fund. However, with your debts, we do have a few options-”

“Just cut my general salary in half,” Becca said quickly. 5,000 a month, plus 2,500 going into an emergency fund is better than I’ve had in months- years actually. With the 5,000 alone, I should be able to house and feed myself most of the time and send some home for Mom. And besides, it’s not like I’m a stranger to stretching funds if needed. It hardly warranted a discussion, and definitely was not worth arguing with the commander in chief over.

Bradley’s brow raised slightly as he focused on her face for the first time. He stared at her, deadpan, until she started worrying that she’d been too direct. What if she’d offended him? Maybe 5,000 cenz a month towards the debt wasn’t enough-

“That sounds like a suitable arrangement.” 

Becca exhaled thankfully. “Thank you, sir. If that’s all, I’ll just… head back to find the Elrics.” She stepped backwards, ready to turn on her heel and sprint back to the steps to wait for the Elrics. 

She felt as taut as a bowstring, about to snap when Bradley called out, “Illusion.”

She froze in place.

“I have a warning for you as well,” Bradley said, suddenly more serious than he’d been the entire meeting. She went quiet, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Bradley got closer to her, like he was telling her a secret. “Your father, unfortunately, racked up millions of cenz in debt. And I regret to inform you that an amount that high shifts to a life debt if it is not paid.”

Becca paled, her eyes widening. “I-”

“I’m sure that won’t be a problem,” Bradley said, his tone getting lighter as he leaned back, “but I thought you ought to know.” He smiled a grandfatherly smile down at her, making her cringe internally. “I trust you don’t need an escort back?”

The dismissal, if unofficial, was clear as day. She bowed slightly, keeping her eyes up, watching the Fuhrer’s relaxed form. If a passerby didn’t know what they’d been talking about, they would think he could have just remarked on the weather.

“No, sir,” she said, then, for good measure, added, “Thank you, sir.”

As soon as Bradley raised a hand in farewell, Becca backpedalled as fast as her legs would carry her and tried to breathe deeply. She knew she was paler than normal and had to fight the urge to rake a hand through her hair as she pushed the doors leading back to the steps open. It only took a few seconds to see both brothers waiting on the second landing, so Becca forced her expression into one of true neutrality as she went to meet them. “How was the briefing?” she asked before either of them could question her. “Have they learned anything new?”

Ed rolled his eyes. “They said something about an anti establishment organization, but I really don’t think it matters-” Al interjected with a stern, “Brother!”, but Ed firmly ignored him. “What’s important is that they gave us permission to go out on our own instead of with the others.” He paused, looking at her for just a few seconds too long. Becca bit her lip, hoping he hadn’t noticed anything off. “How was your walk?”

Looking between Edward and Alphonse, Becca forced the truth down. “Nothing eventful. I just had to arrange a payment plan.”

“That’s weird that the Fuhrer would do that,” Al said. “It seems like something he could send someone else to do.”

“He said it was because I’m a legacy,” Becca lied. “He knew my father.”

And he’s right, she thought firmly. It doesn’t matter. I’m going to pay, everything’s going to be fine, and I won’t even have to worry about it because it’s not going to affect anything.

However, she still would rather not dwell on that particular subject lest the Elrics start asking too many uncomfortable questions. The less Becca had to lie to her new (and only) friends, the better. So, pasting the same fake smile on her face as before, Becca tried to move on, asking, “So where does one start hunting a killer?”

---

Although they meandered through alleyways for hours, it wasn’t until night had already fallen that they heard any updates on MacDougal, but once there were clues to his whereabouts, Ed was off, Becca and Al jogging to catch up. A muffled scream followed by a thump brought Ed to a halt.

“I’m going to go straight at him,” Ed said quietly. “Al, head to the other end and be ready to head him off from that side.”

“Right, Brother.”

“Becca?”

“Hm?”

Ed smirked. “I don’t suppose you can climb?”

---

The view from the top of the Central City Post Office would be a spectacle to behold on any other night, but tonight, Becca couldn’t afford to take in the darkened city. Her gaze was trained down on the hushed conversation between Ed and the ex-Freezing Alchemist, watching in case things got out of hand. As Edward transmuted a weapon, she tensed up, but she knew she was the ace up their sleeve and had to stay put until things got really bad. Ed had been serving for over a year- the Freezer most likely knew him and his abilities. But news of Becca likely hadn’t reached him or the association he was with yet, and in case he was able to escape, it was better that they only knew what Ed could do, rather than that there were two of them. She bit her lip when Al joined the fray, but when MacDougal was able to get a hand on Ed, activating his circle and destroying his bright red coat, she imagined what could have happened if that arm wasn’t metal and decided that things had gotten threatening enough to warrant her intervention. She leaped down from her perch as MacDougal tossed Al over his shoulder, but Becca landed in the same spot, kicking the Freezer backwards and using him as a springboard to hit the ground rolling, stopping in a crouch near Ed as he tossed his coat away.

MacDougal winced, then something seemed to click. “Oh, I understand…” he said slowly. “A young, gifted alchemist who doesn’t need a transmutation circle, and has an automail right arm. You’re the Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward Elric!” His face contorted in confusion. “So it’s not you?” he asked Al.

Al rubbed the back of his neck and sputtered out, “Uh, no… I’m actually his younger brother, Alphonse Elric.”

“But he’s a runt,” MacDougal pointed out.

Ed growled. “I am not a runt!” he said angrily. “Could a runt do this?” He clapped again, transmuting a wall holding MacDougal in place.

“I knew you were young, but I never imagined the Fullmetal Alchemist was just a little kid,” MacDougal said, his voice slightly altered from the stone squishing his face.

“Don’t call me little!” Ed shouted, creating a huge hand out of the wall next to him and throwing MacDougal to the other side of the alley.

Ed’s chest heaved and Becca mumbled a small, “Wow”, blinking slowly.

Al quietly said, “I don’t think he meant your height, Brother.”

After a moment of consideration, Ed swivelled towards him and snapped, “Well even if he wasn’t, he was still pissing me off!”

“So that’s one of the short rants?” Becca asked Al.

Al’s shoulders heaved slightly when he responded, “That was one of the quieter ones.”

A few minutes later, Becca hovered near Ed while he restored his coat and a group of military police led MacDougal away. She could hear one of the soldiers mistaking Al for the Fullmetal Alchemist and she smiled slightly, wondering if this was going to be a common occurrence. Luckily, Ed did not hear the misunderstanding and just pulled his coat back on as he stood up.

“Ready, Becca?”

“Yep,” she said, pushing off the dirty wall of the alleyway she’d been leaning on.

“Hey, Al, let’s get out of here!” Ed called.

Al waved to the officer he was talking to, chastising his brother as they walked. While the boys bickered, Becca’s ears pricked up upon hearing a thump from the group of MPs taking MacDougal in the other direction. She spun around in time to see the Freezer on the ground, pressing his hand into a puddle nearby. Becca shouted wordlessly. She covered her eyes as she was blinded, then coughed when the hot water invaded her lungs.

“What the hell?” Ed wheezed.

“Steam!” Becca said, putting her hand down to see the MPs all doubled over. “He’s gone!
---

Sitting in Mustang’s temporary office, Becca kept her back as straight as possible while the colonel stared at them silently over his desk. Finally, it seemed that Mustang had gotten fed up with the silence and casually remarked, “You two underestimated your opponent.”

Ed rolled his eyes from where he was lounging next to her. “Whatever. Who is this guy? We hardly got any information from your crappy briefing.”

“You were all supposed to go to one here before you went out.”

Becca looked over at Ed, aware that she looked slightly guilty since it had been her who’d skipped out on the second briefing, then down at her lap.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Ed said, sounding annoyed. “Just fill us in on everything you apparently missed.”

Mustang huffed, but gave up on goading Ed and started explaining a bit more about MacDougal. The most important new information was that they were authorized to kill him, the thought making Becca wince. Ed seemed similarly uncomfortable when he curtly informed Mustang, “I’m not killing anyone.”

“I’m not going to make you. All you have to do is contain him,” Mustang said coolly. Becca heard him turn and felt him staring at her. “On an unrelated note, Illusion-” Becca sat up straighter, peering up at him, “-have you discussed your debt yet?”

Becca let out a breath. “Yes, sir. I made arrangements with the Fuhrer earlier today.”

“Ah,” Mustang said, nodding. “I’m sure it was a courtesy to let you know about the-”

Her eyes widened and she cut him off with a curt, “Yeah, yeah. I told him it wasn’t a problem,” giving him a hard look.

Mustang returned her hard stare with one of his own. Becca jutted her chin out defiantly, daring him to mention it again. There were a few seconds when no one said anything before Mustang stepped back to his desk. “Very well, as long as it’s taken care of.” He shuffled through a stack of papers, apparently finding a relevant one. He looked over it, then gave her a look that was much gentler than he had been in any of their interactions so far. “Are you sure 5,000 cenz will be enough?”

“Yes, sir,” Becca said again. “I’ll send some of it home, but I can take care of everything.”

The colonel’s eyes flicked from hers to Ed, sitting on her other side. Becca turned quickly enough to catch Ed making another one of his faces before he firmly fixed his expression into one of strong ire. Becca was about to snap and ask him what his problem was when the door slammed open.

“Roy! I heard you got put in charge of catching the Freezer! One hell of an assignment, but maybe it’ll get you that big promotion, eh?”

Mustang’s face fell at the joyful voice and Becca elected to quit fuming in Ed’s direction to stare at the bespectacled stranger, who either didn’t notice Mustang’s expression, or just didn’t care once he noticed Alphonse sitting near the door. “Oh, hey! This wouldn’t happen to be the Elric brothers, would it? And you must be Rebecca Harper!” he stepped forward, shaking Al’s metal hand with more energy than any one person had the right to have. “It’s an honor to meet the youngest State Alchemist ever! I’m Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes, pleasure to meet you-”

Apparently sensing the growing hostility towards Hughes radiating off of Ed, Al quickly interrupted. “Um… I’m actually his younger brother, Alphonse,” he said quickly.

“What? You’re the Fullmetal Alchemist? I didn’t know you were so-”

“Hughes,” Mustang cut in. He suddenly seemed more tired (or maybe he wasn’t in the mood to hear Ed shouting). “Why are you still here? You should have gone home already.”

“Well, actually, I do have some business to take care of,” Hughes said, adjusting his glasses. “You three, you haven’t checked in with the barracks yet, correct? That means you’ll be coming with me.” He reached into his jacket and all three teenagers flinched away, but all that he pulled out was a picture of a woman holding a small girl. He moved the picture to reveal his own smiling face in real time. “My wife, Gracia, and my daughter, Elicia, would love to have you!”

Before Becca could react, Hughes was practically dragging them along, babbling about his two year old and his wife. Becca only got a glance of Mustang looking exhausted before the heavy door slammed shut behind them. It was a short walk from Central Command to the Hughes’ apartment building that was mostly taken in silence. She didn’t know why the Elrics were so quiet, but Becca herself was stewing on Mustang’s sudden apparent care for her. By the time they reached the Hughes family home, however, Becca decided that it was probably just a product of his obvious tired state and that it wasn’t worth worrying about tonight, especially since it seemed like they already had an odd night ahead of them.

As soon as his wife opened the door for them, Hughes was all over his daughter, showering her in adoration and attention. The little girl giggled, squirming around, and Becca couldn’t stop a tiny smile from stretching over her face. Despite being occupied with her father’s undivided attention, it only took a few minutes for Elicia to notice them standing there and start staring silently up at them.

“These are our guests,” Hughes explained, still crouched next to Elicia. “Those two are the Elric brothers,” he said, pointing to the Elrics, “and that’s Rebecca.”

Elicia gave all three of them a thoughtful look, then pointed to Al and declared, “Big brother,” and switched to Ed, saying, “Little brother.”

Ed’s face fell and he huffed angrily. “Hello, Elicia,” he forced out, clearly trying not to freak out on a kid. “My name is Edward Elric. This,” he said, pointing a thumb at Al, “is my younger brother, Alphonse. You see? Younger .”

“Younger means little,” Elicia said decisively. “You’re little.”

Becca could practically see the steam coming out of Ed’s nose and she had to stifle a laugh while Al picked up a fuming Ed, trying to get him to calm down as Gracia gestured them inside for dinner. Becca, meanwhile, offered a hand to Elicia, who was still staring at them over her father’s shoulder. Elicia giggled and grabbed her index finger, shaking it vigorously, no doubt imitating her father.

“Hey, squirt,” she said quietly, pulling out Will’s old nickname for her. “I’m Becca.”

Gracia had clearly been warned they were coming, since she’d already set out six place settings and waved them to a full table.

“I hope you’re hungry,” Hughes said as he sat down in his own spot. “Gracia’s cooking is delicious!”

“Try not to bore them, dear,” Gracia teased. She turned to the three of them and said, “ I hope he didn’t wear you three out on the way over here.”

Ed hadn’t taken his eyes off of the food, nearly drooling when he excitedly said, “Wow… thanks!” He dug straight in, which was good for Becca, since both Gracia and her husband were too entertained by Ed shovelling an inhuman amount of food into his mouth (as well as the praise he showered upon Gracia’s skills whenever he took a breath) to notice that Becca and Al were hardly touching their plates, at least until Hughes intentionally looked at them. Becca was quick to shove a bite into her mouth to avoid being called out, but Al couldn’t do the same.

“Alphonse, how are you supposed to eat with that armor? Surely you can take it off for dinner at least.”

Al froze, Ed stopped with a bite halfway to his mouth, and Becca forced herself to swallow her food in case she needed to help cover Al’s condition.

“Well, actually…”

“He’s not allowed to!” Ed stammered. “It’s for his alchemy training, he has to wear it all the time!” Al chuckled nervously, nodding along with the story while Ed assured, “I’ll just eat enough for both of us.”

His words seemed to have triggered something in Elicia, who delightedly chirped, “Training! Choo choo!”, thus distracting her father and sending him into another round of cooing for the rest of the meal. Becca hesitantly took another small bite, already glancing around to make sure no one was actually observing her food intake.

---

After dinner, Becca got dragged into playing with Elicia while Ed showered and Al helped Gracia to prepare the room the three of them would be sleeping in. The kid dragged Becca to a tiny kitchen set, sitting her down and beginning a game of restaurant with little wooden food. The first few times she requested Becca order something, she just asked for one of the food things she recognized, but once, she requested a chocolate bar, which Elicia did not have, then pretended to be affronted when Elicia said she couldn’t get that, which made Elicia shriek with laughter, especially when the little girl ran off across the living room and Becca stood up to give chase, laughing along with her. They circled the room a few times before Elicia ran over to her father, sitting on the couch with a fond smile on his face, and tried to climb into his lap to escape, only to burst into more peals of laughter when Hughes grinned down at her and started tickling her.

“Daddy!” Elicia giggled, kicking around until he let her go. “No tickling…” she said breathlessly, crawling off of him and attaching herself to Becca’s leg, making Becca halt in her tracks. Elicia tilted her head back to look at her, then made grabby hands up at Becca. For her part, Becca looked over to Hughes. He gestured for her to go along with what Elicia wanted, so she hesitantly bent down, pulling her onto her hip. Elicia stuck her thumb into her mouth, laying her head down on Becca’s shoulder. Becca instinctively started swaying side to side, remembering how Louisa used to hold her and rock her whenever she couldn’t sleep, and found herself humming Louisa’s lullaby for the first time since her death. Despite her exuberant energy just moments before, it appeared that a game of chase was Elicia’s last burst for the night. Her eyelids started drooping and she yawned.

“Here,” Hughes said gently, scooting over on the couch. When Becca hesitated, he casually joked, “Believe me, she’ll get heavy soon. You might as well sit before that happens.”

Slowly, trying not to disturb Elicia, Becca lowered herself down onto the couch, careful to keep her gaze straight ahead. An awkward silence stretched between them as Elicia’s breathing evened out until-

“You’re good with her,” Hughes remarked thoughtfully. “Do you have younger siblings?”

“I- ah- no,” Becca said quickly. “I’m the younger one, actually.”

Hughes nodded sagely. “You must have had good parents, then.”

“Um… you could say that.” 

The conversation stopped when Elicia shifted slightly, sighing as she drifted in and out of consciousness, then settled back into place.

“Lieutenant Colonel,” Becca said thoughtfully. “Colonel Mustang- he said he knew my father. Did- did you?”

Hughes sighed, the couch groaning as he leaned back. “Yes, he taught both of us at the academy. We knew he had a family, but I honestly never thought of him as a family man.”

Becca laughed hollowly. “Oh, no, he wasn’t.” She looked from Elicia to Hughes and observed, “He wasn’t. Not like you. He was my first teacher, my first drill sergeant, and my first commanding officer, but… I don’t think he was really my dad. My father, yes, but… well, Elicia’s just really lucky to have you and Miss Gracia.”

“Nah,” Hughes countered. “We’re the lucky ones to have gotten her.”

His words pushed Becca back to a dark bedroom, huddled into Louisa’s warmth. Comforting her, reassuring her. “Of course I’m okay. I have you two.” She smiled sadly, closing her eyes.

“You alright?”

“Yeah,” Becca muttered, forcing herself to swallow through the thickness in her throat. “Yeah, you just remind me of my stepmom. She- she died last year. It just hits you sometimes, you know?”

Hughes reached over, squeezing her knee. “Of course.” He stood up, stretching, then held out his arms for Elicia. “You did the hard part,” he said. “I’ll go put her down, you go ahead and get ready for bed. I’m sure Roy is going to run you three into the ground searching for MacDougal tomorrow. You’ll need your sleep.”

Becca gave him a half smile while handing over the sleeping girl. “Alright. Thank you for talking with me, sir.”

“Any time. And, for the record-” He had stopped, facing her, in the doorway, careful to mind Elicia’s limp form. “I already like you more than I liked your father, in the classroom or the battlefield.” He turned, heading down the hall, calling out a quiet, “Goodnight, Becca.”

“Goodnight, sir.” Much like Hughes had done when he stood up, Becca stretched her arms above her head, not realizing how tense she’d been holding Elicia until the weight was suddenly gone, then made her way to the spare bedroom, flicking off all the lights except for a lamp in the corner on her way out. Inside the bedroom, two beds were pushed against opposite walls with a large pile of pillows and blankets serving as a third (unneeded) bed. Becca could hear Al’s high voice in the kitchen, along with Gracia’s and running water, but Ed was on one of the beds, laying back with his hair spread across the pillow. Becca crossed to the other bed, popping her suitcase open to pull out her pajamas. “I’m gonna go get ready for bed,” she alerted Ed, unsure if he was actually awake or not.

Ed gave an affirming grunt, then went silent while Becca gathered her things. It was only when Becca opened the door to find the bathroom that Ed had sat up, arms around his automail leg, and asked, “Becca?”

“Yeah?” she responded, glancing over her shoulder at him.

There were another few seconds of silence, and then, “Are you actually going to send money to your mother?” The color drained from Becca’s face, but she quickly looked down at her feet before he could see. 

“Yeah,” she said again.

“Why?”

“I have to.”

Why? ” Ed stressed. He had leaned forward, golden eyes hard as he stared her down.

“I just do, okay?”

“No, not okay !” he snapped. Becca shrunk away, her breathing picking up. Ed continued in an authoritative tone, not quite yelling, but she could tell he was frustrated. “The whole time we were at your house, you let her walk all over you! She was taking advantage of you! And you know it, you knew it when you left, but you’re still going to-”

Becca’s own annoyance from Mustang’s office suddenly returned full force at that particular comment. “And what did that get me?” she demanded. “I got kicked out!” That time, it was Ed’s turn to flinch, and he had the good grace to look a bit ashamed having brought that up, but Becca was already on a roll. “My mom is the only one I have left, and I just threw that away! I-” She stopped, the anger draining out of her as her gaze fell back down to her bare feet. “I ruined it. The least I can do is- is try to fix it so I can have something to go back to.”

Ed went quiet. Becca didn’t want to look up, afraid of what she’d see, so she just mumbled out, “I’m sorry for raising my voice. You- you’re right, I just- I can’t give up the only person I have left-”

“You have us,” Ed said suddenly. Becca froze, staring at him in surprise. Ed blanched. “Me and Al,” he hurried to explain. “You know all about us, we know all about you. I mean, it’s only fair that we all watch out for each other-”

A warm feeling started spreading across Becca’s chest as he spoke. After a few moments, she managed to look up and gave him a small smile. “Thanks, Ed.”

Ed cut himself off and looked away from her. “Yeah, whatever,” he mumbled. “Like I said, it’s fair-”

“Wait,” Becca said, realization dawning with the sudden revelation of Ed’s blatant dislike of her mother. “Is that why you’ve been making those faces at me?”

Across the room, Ed’s face went red. “I was not-”

“It is!” she said gleefully. “Oh, my God, I should have caught on sooner, you only ever did it when I mentioned her-”

“You were annoying me by letting her step all over you-”

Becca threw her head back, laughing, then stifled a yawn, abruptly halting her giggles. She blinked, seeing Ed’s still red face, and found another smile sneaking across her face. “I really do need to get ready for bed,” she said. “I think the Lieutenant Colonel had a point when he said Mustang is going to be hell bent on catching MacDougal tomorrow.”

“Who cares about that bastard?” Ed said, flopping back onto his bed and throwing his flesh arm over his eyes.

“Okay, stay up as late as you want,” she said with a shrug. “But it’ll mean we’re stuck here under orders even longer.” The only response was a small huff from Ed’s bed, although she couldn’t see him. Becca rolled her eyes. “Goodnight, Ed,” she said pointedly.

“Night, Bex,” Ed mumbled, his blankets ruffling and slightly obscuring his words as he shifted around.

Becca stopped in the doorway, wondering if she’d mistaken what he’d said, but was careful to keep going before he noticed and questioned her. She tried to push down the smile threatening to bubble up once again and didn’t let out her breath until she had firmly shut the bathroom door behind her.

---

Sunlight filtered through the window, birds chirped as they flew by, and Becca was currently awake and hating both of them. She had scrunched her eyes closed and turned around to avoid the sunlight shining directly into her eyes, as well as buried her head under her pillow to block out the incessant twittering of the birds, but she was gradually forcing herself to accept that, apparently, her memories of the transmutation returning wouldn’t be enough to stop her headaches. She sat up, rubbing her eyes and letting her fingers linger near her temples for a momentary relief from the pounding in her head, then slid onto the floor to retrieve her suitcase. Rummaging for the teabags she’d stashed in there after going shopping in Adethal, she could feel Al giving her a strange look, no doubt because of her total ignorance of him as she had to stop and rock forward to distract herself from the growing pain.

Eventually, the wave passed and Becca was able to stand up and blink blearily, finding Al’s large form leaned against the wall with a book open in his lap. She could tell from the faint, slow breathing that Ed was still fast asleep in the other bed, so she just murmured, “Morning.”

“Good morning,” Al said, matching her volume. “Are you alright?”

“Headache,” she said. She winced as another spike of pain arose, then forced herself to swallow thickly and continue, “Tea helps a bit, usually.”

Al made an understanding noise and creaked slightly as he stood up. Becca opened her mouth to object- the You don’t need to stop what you’re doing already forming on her tongue-  when he said, “I need a break. Mind if I join you?”

“Yeah- I mean, no,” she said, squeezing her eyes shut. Conversation was difficult enough right after one had woken up, but a pounding headache surely wasn’t helping. “No, I don’t mind.”

“Are you okay?” Al asked. Becca could hear him stepping forward and felt his cool metal hand come to rest on her forehead, as if to feel for a fever. She had to stop herself from sighing and leaning into the touch.

She looked up at him, then cast a furtive glance over to Ed and whispered, “I’ll explain in the kitchen, I don’t want to wake him up.”

The suit of armor creaked as Al nodded, but, even after he’d removed his hand, he still hovered nearby as Becca shuffled out of the room, hoping a teapot would be somewhere easy to find, since the sun was just barely over the horizon and no one should be up so early. She glanced around the kitchen as subtly as she could, but Al still caught on.

“I’ll get the water started,” he said. “You go sit down.”

“Al, really, I can-”

Al leveled his glowing red gaze on her. Sternly, he ordered, “You need to sit down. You look like you’re going to be sick,” then, in a lighter tone, “Either way, Miss Gracia showed me where the kettle is, so I know where it is, and I won’t tell you.”

Becca looked up at him sullenly before another bout of pain shot to the forefront of her head and she swayed slightly, then collapsed into a chair. She hissed in pain, pressing the heels of her palms into her eye sockets and rocking back and forth again to try and distract herself. In the background, Al had moved away, crouching and knocking a few things out of the way before the faucet ran and the stove flickered to life. Once Becca forced herself to take a deep breath, she found Al already sitting across from her, arms folded.

“Becca, what-?”

“They were never this bad before,” she defended, then winced at how accusatory she sounded. Alphonse hadn’t done anything wrong, he was just trying to help. “I’m sorry- I just-” She sighed, rubbing her temples again. “Ever since the accident, it was kind of an ‘all the time’ thing. Like I always had a tension headache, and some days were better than others, but most of the time, it wasn’t enough to, like, keep me bedridden, and it was- it wasn’t ever like this. I didn’t know why, but I thought it might have had something to with-”

Al sat up straighter as he connected the dots on his own. “Your memories…”

She nodded. “And it did disappear when I got them back. The tea has always helped before, so hopefully it’ll help even though it’s more intense this time around.” She laughed bitterly. “I guess it’s another perk of the ‘Truth’. Give up the constant discomfort for occasional agony. I won’t say I don’t deserve it.”

“Maybe you should stay here today,” Al suggested. “I’m sure the colonel and Mr. Hughes wouldn’t mind-”

“No!” Becca exclaimed desperately, bolting to her feet. Unfortunately, the quick movement was too much and she forced herself to sit back down as her entire body lurched. Once she regained her balance, she focused on Al, saying in a hushed voice, “You can’t tell anyone! I- I thought they’d stopped since I read my father’s journal, so I didn’t put anything about them on my State applications- this- this could get me fired if they think I’m unfit for battle or whatever!”

Al hesitated. “Becca, I really think-”

“Please, Al?” she pleaded.

He heaved a sigh. “Alright, fine, I won’t tell. But when it’s just us three, you need to take it easy, okay?”

Becca let out a breath. “Fine, thank you-”

Al held up a hand. “And,” he continued, “You have to tell Brother.”

Her jaw dropped, and she sputtered, “Now hold on-”

“He won’t tell anyone if you don’t want him to,” Al insisted. The kettle whistled and he stood up to retrieve it, along with a mug, while Becca considered his terms. He sat down, pushing the mug of hot water across the table as he did. “Besides, he’ll find out anyway if we’re all travelling together. I’m sure it’ll be better to hear about it now so that we can be prepared later instead of finding out as it’s happening and panicking later.”

She did ponder that as she placed a tea bag into the mug, then groaned. “Are you always this… right?” she demanded.

He chuckled. “I like to think I am.”

Becca went back to massaging her temples. “I’ll talk to him when he wakes up.” She sighed, looking down at her mug and swishing the bag around, if only to do something to keep her hands busy. “I’m going to make breakfast,” she said resolutely. Even though standing up before had made her nauseous, she attempted it once more, significantly slower this time and using the table for leverage, and successfully made it to her feet before Al could protest.

“Oh, you two are up early.”

Becca’s eyes flicked towards the door, automatically tensing up until she realized it was just Gracia and winced. “I’m sorry, did we wake you?”

“No, no, Maes woke me up,” Gracia said fondly. “Trust me, that’s more preferable to Elicia, but she’ll be out soon, I’m sure.” She inhaled deeply. “Is that peppermint?”

“Ah- yeah,” Becca said, going a bit pink. “Just some tea, but I was just going to start something for everyone-”

“Rebecca, there’s no need for that,” Gracia said, her tone similar to Al’s stern one earlier. “You’re a guest.”

Becca blinked, then furrowed her brows. She knew Al would be giving her an expectant look if he could, but she couldn’t make herself just sit down again, so, in a very small voice, she simply asked, “May I help?”

Gracia smiled at her. “That would be lovely.”

Notes:

i hope you and your loved ones are all staying healthy and safe, and i'll see you all in the next update! -c

Chapter 5: ilinx

Notes:

hello my dears!

holy shit, this one was a doozie. expect some serious editing in the next couple of days, because i'm not 100% thrilled with this chapter, but i wanted to stick to my schedule. unfortunately, i've been on vacation for the last week with varying degrees of signal, depending on where my fam and i are in the most boring set of states in the us. that means i've had a lot of time to think about writing, but not the resources to actually write.

luckily, i'll be back home in a couple of days, so sticking to the schedule should get significantly easier. people seemed to be okay with the longer chapters and i'm going to keep aiming for those, but this one is about the same length as the others just because i wanted to get it out there (it might get longer once it's not almost midnight my time and i can actually go ahead and revise it).

anyways... this was the final chapter in the past! i've been going off of brotherhood because that's what i have the most knowledge/access to, so i'm not going to include anything about youswell on screen, so the next chapter will pick up in present time liore. i'm super excited to finally get into the meat of the story and i hope you guys are too.

ilinx (noun)- a form of play that creates a temporary disruption of perception, for example by inducing vertigo, dizziness, disorientation, or frenzy

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Becca pushed her eggs around her plate, nursing a second cup of tea, her headache finally starting to abate when Hughes hurried into the kitchen, clearly agitated.

“Alphonse, Rebecca,” he said quickly. “Where’s Edward?”

“Brother’s still sleeping,” Al said.

“What’s wrong, sir?” Becca asked.

“The MacDougal situation got more serious overnight.” Hughes had leaned up against the counter as he spoke. Gracia passed him a mug of coffee and received a kiss on the cheek before he informed them, “He broke into Central Prison to speak with a high security prisoner, the Crimson Alchemist, Solf J. Kimblee, but that’s all he did… talk. Kimblee was still there this morning.”

“That’s… weird,” Becca said, faintly recognizing the name from her father’s old stories but not caring enough to remember anything else about him at the moment. “Why would Kimblee let him leave without him?”

Hughes shook his head. “We don’t know, but the Fuhrer decided that was the last straw.” He looked up, more serious than he’d been the night before. “He’s given a shoot to kill order.”

Becca’s eyes widened and Al audibly gasped.

“I’ll go get Brother,” Al said, heading out of the kitchen and muttering, “He’s not going to be happy…”

“You should go get ready,” Hughes advised, looking over to Becca. “We’ll need to get out there ASAP.”

She nodded and finished her slice of toast, then stood to follow Al. “Thank you for breakfast, Mrs. Hughes,” she said politely and drained her mug before setting all her things in the sink and hurrying back to the guest bedroom to get ready.

---

When they did make it onto the street after Ed practically inhaled a few slices of bread and cheese, the military was already swarming everywhere. Hughes disappeared, presumably to take charge of a group of his actual subordinates somewhere, leaving Ed, Al, and Becca to wander and try to gather what intelligence they could without asking any commanding officers directly, given the brooding look Ed had adopted once he was told about how the Fuhrer expected MacDougal to be killed. Becca opted to leave him alone. She herself wasn’t pleased either. She knew it came with the job description, but, suddenly, she realized there was a significant difference between being told that she could be ordered to kill someone and actually receiving the order. The consistent pressure behind her eyes wasn’t helping, and, while the peppermint has helped exponentially, she guessed that the headache would remain and she’d just have to get through it until it passed.

“Get a medic!” one man shouted. Becca glanced over towards the voice, only to see another officer slumped against the wall, skin red and steaming slightly. She winced, resisting the urge to turn away, but glanced over to see a similarly disturbed look on Ed’s face.

“A steam explosion,” he observed. “If he raises the temperature of water fast enough, it explodes like a bomb.”

“And humans are 70% water,” Becca finished.

“Report to Colonel Mustang- five men dead!” another person called out.

“Five men…” Becca said quietly.

Ed growled, kicking the ground. “We’ve got to find him before he hurts anyone else.”

As the boys walked away, Becca stayed rooted in her spot, unable to look away from the apparent fifth victim of MacDougal’s. No, the fifth victim today, she thought, shuddering. Who knows how many people he killed yesterday… or before we even got here.

“Becca?” one brother asked, but she was too lost in thought to realize which one it was.

“Coming…” she said. It appeared, however, that her hesitation might have cost them as an explosion rocked a nearby alleyway. Heads flew through the air and Becca’s heart clenched for a moment before she realized they were made of stone. She wrinkled her nose when one fell at her feet, a mustachioed visage staring up at her. “Who…?”

Ed smacked a hand to his forehead. “Major Armstrong!” He picked up the pace again, starting to run in the direction the explosion had come from.

“That does not answer my question!” she said indignantly, jogging to catch up with him as he and Al turned swiftly into the alley.

MacDougal, currently under attack from a large, almost entirely bald man in a military uniform, turned upon hearing their footsteps. Almost before they could react, he’d thrown a flask at them, transmuting the water inside into steam once again. It was only Al’s quick thinking, grabbing Becca by the wrist and pulling her into his chest, that kept her lungs clear. Her shoulder pressed against Ed’s in the same instant that she realized Al must have done the same thing to his brother, only for her next thought to be, Duh, obviously. He probably did to Ed first, I was just an afterthought.

“Thanks for the save, Al,” Ed said from next to her, knocking on Al’s metal chest. “You okay, Bex?”

“I- yeah, yeah, I’m fine. Where did-”

“Come then, after me, children!” the blonde man said in a deep voice, but it seemed like it was too late. MacDougal had vanished, and, even though they checked any and all nearby side streets, it seemed like he had just dissipated with the steam he created. 

Armstrong, Becca pondered as she glanced down one alley. Where had she heard that name? She racked her brain while she walked, then… 

“You’re Alex Louis Armstrong!” she said suddenly, turning back to the main street where the major had lingered while the Elrics had moved to the other side. That explained why she couldn’t remember him as well as she did Kimblee. Her father had mentioned Armstrong once in all his stories, just to talk about his failure to kill innocents and provide a cautionary tale to her and Will. Her father never knew, but Becca had always secretly rooted for the Strong Arm Alchemist when she had heard that story and wondered what happened to him after he was sent home.

The man turned, giving her an appraising look. “Indeed. It doesn’t appear we’ve had the pleasure of meeting, Miss…?”

“Harper- Rebecca Harper,” she said, then winced when he raised his eyebrow.

“Like Benedict Harper?” Armstrong asked.

Becca cringed, realizing the issue. She had to stop leading with her last name if she wanted people to leave her father out of things.“Er- yes?”

“Strange…” he said quietly to himself, “He never told us he had children.” He gave her a sympathetic look, which was odd to see on a man as intimidating as he was. “I heard of his passing. You have my condolences, Rebecca.”

Becca’s gaze fell to the pavement. “Thank you, sir.”

Armstrong perked back up in an instant, though, voice booming as he declared, “But you must be a skilled combatant if he trained you, and if the Fuhrer decided to grant you your license!”

She felt her cheeks reddening. “Well, I wouldn’t say-”

“Hey, Becca! Major Armstrong!” Ed called from further down the road. He waved them over, then pointed to a ripped piece of blue fabric caught on a fire escape.

Becca looked up to the rooftops, tracing a path up the building that MacDougal could have taken, then down the alley. She couldn’t see anything to indicate which way he’d gone. Seemingly on the same page as her, Ed said, “I was thinking we could split up. Al and I can go up if you’re willing to take the street.” He turned to Armstrong. “Major, could you-?”

“I’ll report to headquarters,” the major affirmed. “They’ll know you’re on his trail.”

---

Day turned to evening. It felt as though she had walked through most of the alleys of Central by now, but Becca hadn’t been able to find another sign of MacDougal.

Maybe Ed and Al had better luck, she thought, exiting onto the main road. She rubbed the pads of her fingers over her forehead and down the side of her face, feeling the pain from her headache building again, and sincerely wished she’d brought a flask and a few extra teabags. It was while she tried to soothe the ache that she bumped into a young, dark haired soldier. She backed off quickly, stumbling a bit until the man reached out, steadying her.

“Sorry!” she squeaked.

“Whoa, kid,” he said, chuckling. “I know we’re all on edge, but there’s no need for that.” He gave her a once over, then raised a critical eyebrow. “You know civilians aren’t supposed to be out right now, right?”

Becca looked up, wide eyed, then realized just how guilty that must seem and screwed her expression into one of forced professionalism. “I know.” She tugged out her watch from her pants pocket, flashing the silver dragon emblazoned on the cover. “I’m new- the Illusion Alchemist.”

The man whistled, leaning over to inspect the watch. “Indeed you are.” He stuck a hand out, and, when she took it, shook firmly. “Sergeant Carter, nice to meet you.”

Becca glanced at his uniform, wrinkling her nose when she noticed his insignia. It wasn’t a sergeant’s usual gold curved rectangle . Instead, a bright silver shone against the navy blue of his coat. Carter seemed to notice her staring, and revised his statement, adding on, “Well, technically I’m Correctional Sergeant Carter, but-” He spread his hands wide, gesturing to the platoons of soldiers milling about, “-We’re kind of going all hands on deck out here.”

“You’re a correctional officer?” Becca asked. “Did you-”

“No, I didn’t see him at the prison,” Carter said with the air of someone who’d been asked that question too many times for their liking. “Otherwise, he’d be dead or in custody by now.”

She smiled slightly, trying to push past another wave of pain. “You think that highly of yourself?”

Carter tapped the emblem on his chest. “I didn’t get here by being mediocre.”

“Fair enough,” she said, then went silent. After a few moments, she asked, “Has Kimblee said anything? What they talked about?”

The officer shook his head. “It’s even more frustrating because we’d usually have a witness. Kimblee is one of our most dangerous prisoners, so there’s someone guarding his door 24/7.” This time, Carter grew quiet, his fist clenching at his sides until he snapped, “But that bastard killed the guard! Froze him solid- one of my best men!”

Becca shrunk back. “I- I’m sorry.”

Letting out a heavy breath, Carter’s shoulders sagged. “I want to look that weasel in the eye and make him pay for every life he took. And I want to ask why he had to kill so many brave men who were just doing their jobs when he clearly only has a problem with people at the top. What could be so important that he has to go about it like this?” His chin dropped further, looking exhausted. “But we’re not even supposed to question him, so I guess I’ll never know.”

“Yeah,” she said vaguely. “I’d like to ask him that too.” Her eyebrows pursed. The orders were to kill on sight, but if she could find him somewhere no one else could see them, maybe she could ask. But where would he have gone if Ed and Al hadn’t caught up to him yet?

Realization dawned and, before the sergeant could react, Becca was off, retracing her steps back to the alley Armstrong had trapped MacDougal in to begin with. “Sorry!” she called over her shoulder. “I know where he’s gone, I have to track him down!” 

Even as she ran, her father’s voice was ringing in her already pounding head, all his criticisms about how she’d always asked for why someone did something. Why did the Strong Arm Alchemist leave Ishval, why did the military discharge her father, why didn’t he let her try to save Louisa. He’d always said that there were very few whys that actually mattered. But, Becca rationalized, he was gone. She was still here and free to ask all the whys she wanted, if she could just find the person to ask. And that thought spurred her on, adrenaline kicking in as the sun set over Central.

---

When she finally found MacDougal, night had fallen. His back was to her as he crouched over a transmutation circle. Becca was about to step forward when someone else entered the alley. Ed had apparently had the same idea that she did, but there was only a split second of recognition before he barked, “Stop! That’s enough!”

MacDougal froze, but, on instinct, so did Becca. She was semi-hidden in the shadow, barely breathing as Ed said, “I was wondering what you were doing here, so I came back to look, and bingo!”

Al stepped out from behind a corner, taking his spot by Ed’s side, and Becca followed suit, stepping out of the shadows. “There’s nowhere to run,” she said coolly. 

However, instead of showing any signs of nervousness, MacDougal just laughed. He turned, giving Becca a creepy smile. “Obviously. But I don’t need to escape, do I?” He raised his arms and a column of bright red transmutation energy flickered to life from the circle behind him. Instantly, Becca charged, but he easily flipped her over his shoulder, sending her flying into the ground in between the Elrics just in time to see more and more beams of red lighting up the night when Al hauled her to her feet.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“There’s reactions all over the city!” Ed responded, turning in place.

“That’s impossible- the scale is too large!”
“Unless…” Al said. “Brother, could it be? Does he have-”

“A Philosopher’s Stone!” Ed finished, an excited look gleaming in his eyes. His face quickly fell when the air changed from a scorching heat that always came from transmutations to an eerie chill. Ice crept through the cracks in the ground and Becca’s panting breaths started to mist in the air.

“The moisture in the air…” Becca whispered. “He’s freezing it.”

“You…” MacDougal said, drawing their attention back to him. “You’ve sworn your lives to act as dogs of the military, but do you even know what this military is trying to do?”

Becca faltered. This was her chance. She wanted to ask what he meant, but Ed cut her off with a brisk, “Who cares? It’s not my problem!”

“Don’t be stupid! Bradley’s going to lead this country to ruin!”

“I told you, I don’t care!”

This time, Al ran forward, taking a couple swings at MacDougal before knocking him out of the alley and making him collide with a railing with a bodily thump. As he tried to catch his breath, Al rejoined Becca and Ed.

“Good hits, Al,” Becca said.

“We still have to stop the transmutations,” Al pointed out.

“And get his stone!” Ed said, advancing on MacDougal. “Where is it? I know you have one!” When MacDougal only gave a raspy chuckle in response, Ed threatened, “I’ll force it out of you! Tell me where it is!”

“Ed-” Becca said warningly.

“And how are you gonna do that, huh? Face it, kid, you’re out of your league!” As MacDougal spoke, the large fountain behind him exploded, creating an endlessly growing wall of ice that he was able to grab onto, disappearing quickly while the ice expanded over the fountain’s barrier, towards them.

Al reacted first, getting out of the way, followed by Becca, dragging Ed behind her a few seconds later. They ran past Armstrong, who had presumably spotted the massive ice wall.

His gauntlets shone as he prepared his attack.“Witness the alchemic art passed down the Armstrong line for generations!”

“Go for it, Major!” Ed shouted.

Blue energy flickered to life along Armstrong’s gauntlets and he readied a punch towards the base of the wall, only for the hit to connect and the wall to skew off into a total right angle, hitting an apartment building nearby.

“Oh, he made it worse,” Becca said faintly.

They all cried out as the ground shook and more ice walls emerged from amongst the streets. 

“The ice- it’s converging!” Al said.

“It’s gonna meet in the middle!” Becca said.

“Which means…” Ed said slowly, connecting the dots. “Dammit, it’s Central Command!”

Becca looked fearfully towards the brothers and all three of them said in unison, “He’s gonna freeze it over!”

“We’ve got to slow him down!” Ed said desperately.

“But even if we do, the transmutation won’t stop-” Becca started.

Armstrong interrupted her firmly. “Leave the circles to me. You three, go!”

Ed led the way as they ran deeper into the city, towards the head of one of the large waves of ice where they could see MacDougal perched like a sea captain commanding his fleet of ships.

“Ed, what are we going to-” He cut her off by clapping, creating a large column of stone to boost himself up to MacDougal’s level, leaving Becca to roll her eyes. She glanced up at Al, who shrugged, and asked, “I’ll see you up there, I guess?”

“Right,” Al agreed. He crouched, pulling out a piece of chalk to sketch out a circle. Becca transmuted a column similar to Ed’s and landed next to him, closely followed by Al if the clanking from behind her was to be believed. MacDougal barely gave them a moment to breathe before he had molded the ice into a large wave, only to be countered by Ed decimating the ice he stood on, pushing him backwards into the air. He reached for one of the larger chunks of ice and Becca suddenly remembered his habit of heating up water as a means of escape. First the night before, second earlier that day, and... Third time’s a charm, she thought, touching the ice and curving a thick shield that, while left steaming and significantly thinner than when she’d made it, kept the boiling rain MacDougal had made from burning her or Ed. On the other hand, it obstructed their view, so all three of them were caught off guard when MacDougal was already in their faces again. Once again, Al saved both Ed and Becca, grabbing them by their collars and pulling them backwards, but MacDougal was able to get a hand on Al’s mask.

“Too slow!”

Red energy sparked, blasting Al’s head off.

“No!”

“Alphonse!”

She felt her heart clench when Al toppled backwards, stiff as a board. However, MacDougal was only able to advance a few more steps before Al was up again, kicking up and tossing Becca and Ed behind him, fully exposing his blood seal as he got into a fighting position.

“No one’s in there!” MacDougal breathed. Becca inched away from him and the brothers, reaching back to retrieve Al’s wayward head as the Freezer came to some sort of realization. “Your soul must be bonded to it. You lost an arm… and he lost his entire body.” His face fell into a dark smirk as Al adjusted his head. Becca leaned away once again, really not liking the crazed look building up behind MacDougal’s eyes.“I see. I know what you’ve done. You two committed the ultimate taboo! Human transmutation! Alchemy’s one and only unforgivable sin!”

Becca flinched. Even though she wasn’t being accused, she couldn’t help but look away guiltily, tamping down the memory of the horrifying guilt once she had realized what she’d done in that shed in her backyard.

“You know, there are some things you just shouldn’t mess with,” Ed said quietly. Becca could hear the fury bubbling in his tone and she looked up, glaring hatefully at MacDougal. Ed surged forward, landing a solid punch to MacDougal’s gut and knocking him to the ground. MacDougal tried to create a barrier, but Al easily sliced through it and Becca kicked him off the ice, sending him tumbling to the ground. Ed huffed, his breath hanging in the air, then mumbled, “Let’s go,” and slid down after him.

Becca was the last one off the wall, but even so, MacDougal hadn’t budged from where he’d landed by the time she got there.

“Just tell us what we want to know!” Ed was practically ordering. “You’re out of options, give it up!”

MacDougal chuckled, wiping a bit of blood from a wound in his shoulder. “You’re forgetting. I have all the water I need- 70% of my body!”

Becca’s eyes widened. “Ed, move!” she shouted, dodging to the side herself as several lengths of solidified blood extended from MacDougal’s fingers. She heard Ed cry out in pain as one claw scratched her cheek and another shot through the tail of her coat, pinning it to the ground. “Dammit, come on,” she said, tugging on the fabric, looking around hopelessly. She saw Al cradling a bleeding Ed, and, a few feet away, MacDougal struggled to his feet. As he started walking away, Becca remembered Sergeant Carter and the whole reason she was so determined to find MacDougal in the first place. Even though her adrenaline from the fight was wearing off and she could feel pain from the slash and from her damn headache welling up, she managed to find enough breath to call out, “Why? Why are you doing this?” Once she started asking, Becca found she couldn’t stop. “Why did you kill all those men? Why are you so determined to bring down everyone in the government when you only seem to have a problem with the people at the top? Why-”

“Why can’t you see?” MacDougal interrupted. “I’m trying to save this country! I’m trying to save us all!” He turned, examining his work as frost began to creep up the side of Central Command, and laughed. And then kept laughing.

“Hey!” Becca shouted, her coat still stuck to the ground. “Get back here! You haven’t answered my questions and you still have that stone!” She gave her hardest pull yet and nearly fell to the ground when the spike of blood gave out, freeing her, but also sending a long rip down the center of her coat. She glanced back at Ed and Al, then made a frustrated noise. Should she chase MacDougal, who had already disappeared around a corner, or check on Ed, who had yet to get up from the  ground?

Ed answered for her. “Don’t let him get away!”

“We’ll be right behind you!” Al called.

Becca nodded quickly, then took off, darting down the road MacDougal had taken. She could hear explosions from the main streets, presumably soldiers attempting to stop the ice walls or trying to destroy the circles, but all her senses dulled when she finally caught up to MacDougal. He was laughing maniacally as she came around the corner and wondered vaguely if he’d stopped laughing between the Elrics and here before halting entirely. MacDougal was face to face with Fuhrer Bradley.

She knew she was supposed to do something, to protect the Fuhrer as MacDougal gathered a long spear of his own blood and attacked, but something deeper within told her to shrink back into the shadows. Bradley had given no indication that he’d noticed her and her gut was telling her to back off. Slink back around the corner and observe. Thoughtlessly, she stepped back, only to gasp when the Fuhrer slashed his sword through MacDougal’s body almost faster than the eye could see. Bradley turned his eye on her.

“Ah, Illusion,” he said jovially. He moved slightly, obscuring Becca’s view of MacDougal’s body, but she could have sworn she saw a red light brightening and subsequently fading from behind his leg.

A Philosopher’s Stone just… gone?

That wasn’t how it worked- it couldn’t be!

More running footsteps interrupted Becca’s dazed thinking, and, as the Elrics joined them, Ed still clutching his bloody shoulder and breathing heavily from the chase, she suddenly remembered that she hadn’t greeted the Fuhrer.

“Sir, I-” Becca started.

Bradley raised a hand to cut her off. “No need. I came out to help anyway.” He tilted his head, smiling. “Never would have thought that I’d be the one to catch him! But thank you to you three for tracking him down so quickly.” The Fuhrer began walking away, throwing a casual, “If nothing else, it will make an interesting story for my son.”

Ed put a hand on Becca’s shoulder, but she found it too difficult to turn and face him. Her last bit of adrenaline had gotten her to the confrontation, but seeing that type of effortless, remorseless attack from the man who held her own life in his hands was enough to cut that off completely. Her headache swelled and her stomach lurched and the world started to spin. As if through an echo chamber, she could hear someone calling her name before she hit the ground. She wanted to respond, but her limbs were too heavy, even as her eyelids fluttered shut.

---

When she came to, Becca was blinking up at a tiled ceiling. Everything was too bright and smelled of antiseptic. She groaned.

“Good morning, Miss Harper,” a woman’s cool voice greeted. Becca sat up, rubbing her eyes, taking in her surroundings. A stern looking nurse closed the door as she spoke. “My name is Sophie Fox and I’ll be checking over you before you get dismissed.”

“Hi,” Becca said quietly, sitting up.

“Headache gone?”

“Yeah,” she said instinctively, then stopped. “How did you-?”

“Alphonse Elric felt the need to mention it,” Sophie explained. “He and his brother were extremely distressed. Edward insisted we discern what was wrong with you before we even thought about looking at his shoulder.”

Becca winced. “You didn’t though, right? They’re okay?”

Sophie sighed heavily. “Mr. Elric is resting next door. You may go see him once I am done with you.” She bustled about, informing Becca, “You slept through the night, but we were unable to rouse you until you woke up on your own. We did, however, weigh you, and proved that those idiots in the physical exam don’t know a lick about actual healthcare.”

She gulped, feeling a pit growing in her stomach. “What do you mean?”

Sophie leveled a severe look at her from where she was reading over a chart on the other side of the room. “You’re underweight, and I suspect you have been for a while.”

“I feel fine!” Becca argued weakly.

“Now, there is no need to panic,” Sophie said, thoroughly ignoring her protests. “We assumed it was out of necessity and not choice.” Her glasses glinted under the harsh hospital lights, daring Becca to come clean and risk getting discharged from the military, and she continued, “It’s not serious enough to warrant keeping you here for too long, but I will put a note in your chart that they need to check on you during your annual assessment. While you are not severely malnourished yet , you are at a risk. You must self monitor if you don’t want your condition to worsen and your general health to decline, understood?”

Becca’s shoulders slumped in relief. They wouldn’t send her away. “Yes, ma’am,” she said, then, significantly quieter, “May I go see Ed and Al?”

“You may join them for breakfast,” Sophie allowed. “First, I need to get your vitals. Sit still please.”

---

“Becca!”

“Bex!”

Becca smiled slightly, carrying a tray with a few different food items, then took in the room. Ed was sitting up in bed, a bandage wrapped around his wounded shoulder and a similar collection of food in his lap, with Al up against the wall. She crossed the threshold and sat down on the short stool next to Ed’s bed. He was quick to scoot over and give her space to set her food down.

“How are you guys feeling?” she asked, uber conscious of both of them sneaking glances at her.

They both stopped trying to be subtle and just outright stared at her. Ed sputtered. “How are we feeling? You’re the one who passed out! What happened?”

Throughout her check up and subsequent walk to Ed’s room with Sophie, Becca had considered how much she was going to tell the brothers. But Sophie was still in the doorway, raising an expectant eyebrow and making it abundantly clear that if Becca didn’t tell them everything about her condition, she would. And deep down, Becca considered, Al had been right that morning. They needed to know in case something happened. Hell, something had happened and she was lucky that they were already near a hospital.

Mind made up, she launched into everything. First, how she’d had to ration everything since Louisa’s death and eventually just stopped wanting to eat full meals after the transmutation incident. How, for months, she’d been forcing herself to eat just enough to keep her habits a secret, but she couldn’t remember the last time she’d been genuinely full. Then, while they were still quiet from that, she continued into talking about her headaches, including that they’d become less common since her memories had come back, but apparently more painful, and that she hadn’t been able to find an actual drug that really helped. She insisted that they didn’t need to worry, that she’d push through it again and again (not like she had a choice), but still, after those particular revelations, she lowered her head while Ed and Al sat in silence.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly after a few moments.

“Becca, you don’t need to-” Al said.

She held up a hand to stop him. “No, I- I haven’t been completely honest with you, and I should have. It could have been dangerous.” She bit her lip, then revised, “It was dangerous. I should have told you earlier.” She felt her lip quivering slightly, but refused to cry. The Elrics had already seen her cry enough.

Ed’s flesh hand came to rest on her shoulder. She looked up, raising a brow. There must have been something giving her away on her face, because his eyes widened and he frantically reassured, “Hey, don’t worry about it! You got through the mission and there’s no long term damage, and now we know so it won’t happen again! So it’s alright, okay?”

She blinked, then felt a smile spread involuntarily over her face. “Okay, okay,” she said, the tension in the air finally broken. She grabbed a fork, stabbing a bit of egg to eat before she asked, “Seriously, what happened? Are you both okay?”

“Fine,” Ed said flippantly. “This is pretty much just procedure.”
“Brother, you did get stabbed,” Al pointed out.

Ed waved a dismissive hand. “I’m fine ,” he said again. “The doctor’s said I can leave soon. What I’m worried about is where we’re going to go next. The colonel didn’t mention having any more leads, but I don’t really want to stick around here.”

As the brothers discussed, Becca chewed on her toast thoughtfully, only half listening to the conversation until they mentioned the Philosopher’s Stone.

“We never did find out if he had one,” Al was saying.

Becca opened her mouth, then tried to speak too fast and choked. Next to her, Ed swore loudly and thumped her on the back, but she was able to recover quickly enough with a drink of water. She coughed a few times, then rasped out, “I thought I saw one. A Philosopher’s Stone.”
“With MacDougal?” Ed asked eagerly.

“Yeah, but- but-” Becca scrunched her face up, trying to remember, “It couldn’t have been one. It broke or something, because there was this bright red light that just faded out. And Philosopher’s Stones- true ones- they can’t break, can they?”

“No… they’re supposed to be the perfect material,” Ed said thoughtfully. “I guess we’ll just have to wait for the military’s report to see if they found anything-”

Ed was cut off by loud footsteps stomping down the hall, giving them only a few seconds of warning before Major Armstrong burst through the door, preceded by a large bouquet of roses and oddly… sparkling? She looked over to Ed, but he seemed just as confused as she was.

“Edward Elric, Rebecca Harper, when I heard you two were in the hospital…” he started out calmly, then suddenly returned to his apparently normal volume of what would be a booming shout for the average person, “I dashed right over!” Ed and Al were both quaking in fear, though of what, Becca couldn’t determine. The major, as far as she’d seen, was eccentric, but it wasn’t like he was going to hurt them. He even seemed rather well-meaning on this particular visit, gently setting the roses aside on a nearby table. “I’ve come to relieve you of your boredom,” he said sternly, then ripped off his shirt, revealing his overly muscular physique. Becca went red, her eyes going wide at his blatant half-nudity, then quickly averted her eyes, embarrassed, while the Elrics both shrieked. “The beauty of my muscles makes you all look livelier already!” Armstrong crowed with a laugh.

“Would you get out?” Ed demanded loudly, only to prompt another round of raucous laughter from the major.

---

The major left soon after dropping off the flowers, citing an absurd amount of paperwork concerning the Freezer case. Becca doubted that the pink blush had fully left her face, so she kept her head down and focused on her food, but she was finding it harder and harder to finish what she was given. She looked pleadingly up at Sophie, who checked what she had managed to eat and nodded, satisfied. She brought in discharge papers for all three of them, making sure to go over instructions left by doctors as they signed out.

“I want you to increase what you’re eating slowly,” Sophie lectured. “Too much at once and you’ll make yourself sick and you’ll be no better than when you started. Now that you have a steady income, I expect you to have steady meals as well.”

“I will,” Becca said tiredly.

“And we’ll help,” Al said.

“Al, guys don’t have to worry about me-”

“Bex, like it or not, now that you told us, we’re going to worry,” Ed said, not looking at her. “You already said you’d help us. Really, helping you to stay healthy is way easier than tracking down a Philosopher’s Stone.”

Al nodded from his spot on the wall. Becca looked between both of them, then sighed. “I guess there’s no telling you no.”

“And Miss Harper is not the only one who needs to take care of herself,” Sophie continued, turning her gaze onto Ed. “Those stitches need to be taken care of, Mr. Elric, or I’ll be seeing you again when they get infected. I’m aware you get into situations requiring you to get your hands dirty, but afterwards, make sure to clean and sanitize the wound.”

“I’ll remind him,” Al assured.

Becca smiled. “I will too.”

“Oh, great,” Ed groaned. “ Two people breathing down my neck about this shit.”

She scoffed, “Please! You were the one preaching equivalent exchange a few days ago and don’t tell me you already forgot.”

Ed sputtered himself into a fuming silence, signing the last few papers and standing up to stretch. “Fine, whatever! Insist on whatever you like!” He turned to Sophie. “Thanks for all the help, but can I get my clothes back? There’s only so much hospital food I can take.”

Sophie rolled her eyes. “I’ll send someone with them,” she said, then shot each of them a small smile. “Take care, all of you. I don’t want to see you back anytime soon.”

“Thank you, Sophie,” Becca called out before the door shut. 

Ed moved over to the wall and kicked his automail leg up. She heard the joints squeak as he glanced over and explained, “It gets stiff when I’m sitting for so long.” She nodded, quietly taking in the metal limb in full. It really was a work of art- deceptively simple looking when everyone knew engineering the stuff was no small undertaking. She wondered if she’d ever get to meet the person who’d made Ed’s automail, or if that was too personal to him to invite his work partner along for maintenance. She allowed herself to look up, taking in the concentrated expression on Ed’s face as he stretched. His brows were furrowed slightly, nose scrunched, and head tilted back. His eyes flicked over to meet hers.

“Bex?”

“Hm?”

Ed grinned cheekily at her. “You were staring at me.”

Suddenly, her blush was back full force and she was sent stuttering. “I- you- I was not !”

“Were too!”

“Was not!”

Thankfully, it wasn’t long before another hospital staff member returned both of their clothes and they were officially released. Becca frowned upon seeing the long slash in her coattail, then touched her hands together and cut off the entire bottom portion. The remaining coat fell to the bottom of her ribs with two black buttons, but the long sleeves and formal collar stayed untouched.

“So no one can trap me with that again,” she explained in response to Ed’s questioning look, packing the rest of the material into her bag, just in case. “MacDougal ripped it, but in East City… you know.”

Ed nodded sympathetically. Becca grabbed the necklace with her father’s symbol on it from her bag, fastening it over the new scar on her neck, then picked up her things and threw them over his shoulder.

Their first stop was the Hughes’ house to pick up their luggage, but they ended up getting pulled in for lunch. After they’d eaten, Elicia sat under the table, playing with a few dolls while Gracia informed them that Hughes had been worried about them, but hadn’t had time to visit the hospital like Armstrong had since he was higher up in the chain of command.

“We should stop by and tell Lieutenant Colonel Hughes goodbye,” Al said as they left. “Maybe we can catch the colonel before he goes back to East City and he’ll have something for us.”

Ed made a face at the mention of Mustang, but didn’t object. Becca had yet to fully understand his relationship with their superior. Mustang was the one who brought Ed in to become a State Alchemist, but both of them seemed to argue over everything. Either way, there was little space for arguing when Hughes had spotted the three of them while he was with Mustang and immediately dragged them into the conversation he was having about his daughter with the colonel.

“And she was so cute this morning when she was asking about you three,” Hughes gushed. Becca caught Mustang’s eye, who looked as bored as she felt, silently begging him to cut Hughes off before he started trying to mimic Elicia.

It seemed he got the message since, the second Hughes took a breath, he was interrupting with an order. “Fullmetal, Illusion, while you’re here, there’s a situation I wanted you to take a look at over in Youswell.” He gave Edward a meaningful look and added, “I’ve been looking into leads for you and one looks promising-” Ed opened his mouth, but Mustang cut him off. “-After you return.” Ed’s mouth snapped closed, but he glared heavily at the colonel even as Mustang gave him a snarky smile.

“Are there even any trains going out to Youswell?” Becca asked.

“I’ve got to get back to East City HQ, so I suppose that’s your problem,” Mustang said cheerfully, turning around and waving to them over his shoulder. “Hughes, you’re buying me a drink before I leave!”

Ed groaned. Hughes chuckled and patted him on the shoulder when Mustang had disappeared around a corner. “Oh, don’t let him get to you. Did you guys need something, or did you just come to talk to Roy?”

“No, actually, we came to thank you,” Becca said, “for letting us stay the night with you.”

Hughes’ eyes widened slightly, then he chuckled. “Anytime,” he said, still chortling. “Hey, if you kids need somewhere to stay next time you’re around, I’m sure Elicia would love to have you back- speaking of Elicia, did I show you-”

“Sorry, sir,” Ed interrupted before Hughes could pull out his photos, grabbing Becca’s hand. “We’ve got to figure out how to get to Youswell, but we’ll make sure to find you whenever we’re back in town.”

“Bye, Lieutenant Colonel!” Al called.

“Thanks again,” said Becca.

---

As it turned out, there weren’t any trains straight to Youswell, so all three of them were bent over a map and train schedule, mapping out which tickets they’d need to purchase. Ed was sent to get the first set of tickets and Al offered to watch their small pile of luggage (which was really only two suitcases), leaving Becca to wander aimlessly in search of food. Even though she was supposed to be looking for food, every small market stall seemed to have something she wanted to look at. One shop in particular, a fabric store, was displaying a large swatch of blue fabric identical to the fabric her shirt was made of.

Before she could convince herself otherwise, she had purchased a large piece of the cloth.

“May I use your restroom?” she asked. The shopkeeper wordlessly pointed her to the back, where she tossed her jacket off, pulled off her shirt, and stared down at it, considering what she wanted to do. “Maybe…” she contemplated, transmuting a few more inches onto her ends of the sleeves and forming a set of attached fingerless gloves to wrap around her thumbs. Still, there was a significant amount of blue fabric left over, and Becca turned to her newly cropped jacket. She remembered black flamel emblazoned on Ed’s jacket and got an idea. Her necklace already paid tribute to her father, but… maybe something for Louisa. A garden, she thought decidedly, about to transmute the rest of the fabric, then stopped.

Louisa had been all about putting in the work. Alchemy in her garden never flew, no matter how much it would have made things easier.

“Everything comes in it’s own time,” she had said. “If you use alchemy to make my lilies come up in the winter just because they’d look pretty, the frost would take them quicker than if they’d been allowed to bloom naturally in summer.”

Becca smiled sadly, looking down at the blue fabric. She touched her hands together and exhaled as she deconstructed the cloth down into a pile of thread. Surely, the shop had an empty spool and a needle lying around...

Notes:

i hope you and your loved ones are all staying healthy and safe, and i'll see y'all in the next update! -c

Chapter 6: anecdoche

Notes:

hello, hello, hello, my dears!

i've been back home, so, while this chapter is actually a little shorter than i wanted, i'm pretty proud of it and i've been going through it with a fine toothed comb to make sure i was totally happy with it. i wanted to put this up before i went to work and i'm literally running down to the last minute to get it up, but here it is!

AND we're finally in the present time! for context, my timeline so far has been that Becca received her license/ the MacDougal incident happened in december of 1912, and we pick up here in august of 1914.

as always, if you like the chapter, kudos and comments give me life, and hell, if you don't like it, might as well leave a constructive comment.

anecdoche (noun)- a conversation wherein everyone is talking but nobody is listening

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The tiny knot slipped through her fingers again. It was always hard enough to tie when it was light outside, but doing it by just the pale light of the moon and the swaying lights on the train was even worse.

“Dammit,” Becca swore under her breath. She hated finishing off embroideries on moving trains, but Ed had already insisted that they go straight into Liore. Their latest lead from Mustang was so vague that it might not even be worth staying the night. Just some priest in some backwater town insisting he could perform miracles. In her mind, it was more likely that he was particularly good at sleight of hand, but it wasn’t like they had anything better at the moment.

She glared down at her jacket, specifically at the daffodil petal she’d just finished stitching.

“Everything alright, Becca?” Al said, not looking up from his ongoing journal entry.

She glanced back down and tried to tie it off once more. “Everything’s fine, I just can’t get this- ah, there we go!” she said. She took a small set of scissors out of her bag and cut the string near the newly tied knot. “There.”

There was a small creak as Al leaned forward to look at the jacket. “Can I guess what it is?” She smiled. That had become a little game between them. Since Becca did most of her work either during downtime while travelling or nighttime when she couldn’t sleep, Ed was usually fast asleep like he was now, pressed against the window, leaving them to come up with ways to entertain themselves. It had gotten easier as time went on and Al learned more and more each time, and yet, Becca kept stitching and Al kept guessing whenever they had the chance.

“Go for it.”

She pointed to the daffodil, recognizable to a trained eye, but still unfinished and easy to be mistaken by those who weren’t as sure of themselves.. Al considered it for a moment, then said, “It’s going to be another daffodil, right?”

“Exactly!” Becca said, grinning. “You’re really getting good at that.”

Al moved to look her in the eye. To others, the red lights gleaming out of his helmet would be something to fear, but over the year and a half since they’d met, Becca had only ever associated them with comfort. She didn’t know if it was just because it was Al, but the lights were always warm, like a crackling hearth.

“That book you gave me was helpful,” he admitted.

“I didn’t know you’d read it already,” she said. “In that case, for bonus points, do you remember the meaning?”

Al went silent, then huffed. “I haven’t gotten that far.”

Becca laughed, startling Ed into blinking awake. “Are we there yet?” he mumbled, rubbing one eye. Becca felt herself smile involuntarily.

“No, sorry,” she said quietly. “Al and I were just talking. Go back to sleep.”

Ed made an affirming noise and fell back against the window, light snores following only minutes later. She gazed over at his still form. She knew there was probably too much fondness in her eyes for someone who was supposed to be a work partner, but she couldn’t help it. Travelling with Ed, with his firm morals and strong personality, had only intrigued her, drawn her in more and more with each passing day until they were less like casual friends and more like… something else. Something closer.

As she was contemplating, Al seemed to be scrutinizing something as well. Before he could speak, Becca said, “I guess I should try and sleep too.” She tilted her head, checking with Al like she’d gotten a habit of doing whenever they had these late night rendezvous. “You’ll be okay by yourself?”

“Don’t worry about me,” Al said, like always.

Becca smiled, tucking her feet up onto the bench she and Ed shared. She leaned over onto her suitcase. Ed shifted beside her, his legs unconsciously stretching out slightly over hers, and Al reached for his journal again. She closed her eyes and sighed as the quiet atmosphere of the train engulfed all three of them once again.

---

Apparently, in Ed’s mind, “straight into Liore” meant “stopping for lunch at the first tiny restaurant they saw”. 

And so far, the only thing worth noting about Liore was that it was hot, much too hot.

I suppose being on the edge of the desert will do that, Becca thought disgruntledly, pushing the few loose strands of hair falling out of her bun back, off of her forehead where they’d become plastered with sweat. Ed’s the lucky one here, damn blonde hair.

Luckily, in such a tiny town, she could pick up on the general atmosphere just by observing the central square while sipping on an ice water. In Central, or even East City, she’d learned that places were often like people. They had their own personalities, their own secrets. Liore seemed to be more like Adethal: sure, it had its secrets, but they weren’t very well hidden. A stranger could walk into Adethal, past the cold, bright stone building of the military academy, so out of place among the tiny houses and little shops, and know , just like how Becca could walk into Liore, hear the deep voice blaring over radios fixed above the streets, and know . Something was odd about this place.

“So are you three street performers or something?”

Becca glanced over her shoulder, incredulous, while Ed spat out his drink.

“Seriously? Do we look like street performers to you?” he demanded irritably.

The man shrugged. “I can’t think of anything else you could be.”

“Ugh,” Ed groaned, pushing his plate away and himself off his stool. “Thanks for lunch. Come on, Al, Bex.”

Becca slid easily out of her seat, but turned back around quickly when she heard a loud crash. When Al had tried to get up, he’d bumped his helmet up against the unsteady top of the cafe and knocked the radio down from its perch overlooking the square. Becca winced at the pile of springs and splintered wood.

“Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it!” the shopkeeper exclaimed, leaning over the counter.

“Sorry, sorry,” Ed said quickly. “He can fix it, don’t worry.”

“Fix it? It’s all smashed!” the man said indignantly. His voice drew a crowd of other patrons, as well as random bystanders, all gathering around the broken speaker, whispering to each other.

“Check this out.” Becca rifled through her suitcase for chalk- Al didn’t exactly have pockets after all- and tossed it to Al, who caught it deftly and bent down, drawing a basic transmutation circle with ease. A bright blue light flared up as Al activated the array, then faded to reveal the radio, reconstructed and in perfect working order. Becca grinned at Al, knocking on his metal shoulder. “You even got it to keep playing, well done.”

Ed smiled proudly. “There, see? How’s that?”

“It’s a miracle!” someone called.

The shopkeeper looked astonished. “You’ve been touched by the sun god Leto, like Father Cornello!”

Becca let out a disappointed breath and Ed’s face fell as he started, “Father Cor-”, then asked, “Who now?”

“It’s not a miracle,” Al explained, far more patient than his brother would have been. “It’s alchemy!”

The crowd started to murmur again. “I’ve never seen alchemy before,” one man said skeptically.

“Well, maybe you’ve heard of us,” Ed said, overconfident and brash as ever, sweeping an arm around Becca’s shoulder and pulling her to his side. “We’re the Elric brothers, and this is Rebecca Harper!”

Becca went pink as the people of Liore muttered amongst themselves again. Someone finally called out, “It’s the Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward Elric!”

“Oh, yeah, and he has a partner, right?” another person said. “The Illusion Alchemist!”

The people jostled forward, pulling Becca out of Ed’s grasp as they gathered around her and Al. Becca suppressed a smile while she shoved her way out and people were occupied gushing over an increasingly frantic Al, waving his arms for help high above the crowd. Ed, who had previously looked rather smug, seemed to be on the verge of snapping at the Liorans until Becca squeezed his shoulder.

“Relax,” she urged. “People always think that, you can’t exactly blame them. It’s because of the armor, not because you’re-”

“It’s not me!” Al said loudly behind them.

The group turned slowly, looking over at Ed. Becca could see some curious faces, some confused, but she could only hope that none of them would- “It’s the little guy over there?” Oh, God, here we go.

Any calm Ed had restored was immediately gone. “Who’s little?” he shouted. “Come over here and say that to my face, I’ll kick your teeth in!” He raged around, all vague threats and angry red cheeks, until he’d evidently decided the poor citizens had enough and finally quieted down, though he was still fuming when Becca started listening in to the continuing radio broadcast. She wrinkled her nose. The speaker, the same deep voice that had been droning on and on since they’d arrived, was talking about, of all things, prayer .

“Who’s this guy?” she said. She’d been talking to herself mostly, leaning forward as if the radio itself could answer her question, but townspeople answered anyway.

“That’s our leader, Father Cornello.”

“He came here years ago, and taught us the ways of Leto, the sun god!”

“We were lost before he arrived.”

“He can grant eternal life to his faithful ones and resurrect the dead!”

It was… eerie, watching them explain. They were clearly still shaken from Ed’s outburst, but as they spoke, they all grew more confident. There was no doubt, no questioning as they spoke. Hell, Becca realized, it wasn’t even awe that tinted their voices. This- this was pure faith. Faith in something that definitely shouldn’t be possible. Raising the dead? The three of them knew better than anyone that was impossible. Nothing was worth that much.

“He performs miracles as proof,” one man informed them.

Becca’s head snapped up and she looked over to Ed. Although he wasn’t looking at her, she knew he’d heard the same thing. Proof. Proof, they could work with. She noted the change in his demeanor. He’d stopped pouting, recognizing the actual legitimacy of this lead, and shifted into a more solemn version of himself. Even Al had visibly adjusted, from trying to be as unintimidating as he could as a suit of armor to a stately sentry slightly behind Ed.

“So he’s claiming he can bring the dead back to life?” Ed muttered so she and Al could hear. “Now that’s something I gotta see.”

---

Flowers- pink begonias, Becca noticed- drifted over a cheering mob. A balding man stood at the forefront on a raised stage with a line of guards behind him, and Becca was unable to stop herself from connecting the man draped in black to the Fuhrer, lording command over the hoards of the Amestrian military. She shivered.

The man, Father Cornello, caught one of the falling flowers. He cupped his hands around it, and a burst of red light shone out from his closed palms. When he opened his hands, there was a shiny, bejeweled flower, which one of Cornello’s white robed attendants fixed onto the statue looming behind him. The crowd went wild, but Ed, who had climbed on top of his and Becca’s stacked suitcases to get a better look, still kept his voice low.

“So, what do you think?”

“There’s nothing to think,” Al insisted. “That’s alchemy, it has to be.”

“But there’s no exchange,” Becca pointed out. “No equivalency. You’re not supposed to be able to transmute organic matter like flowers into inorganic matter, and that’s not even mentioning the changes in mass and volume.” She glanced up, meeting Ed’s eyes. “There’s really only one way.”

Ed huffed thoughtfully, then narrowed his eyes in Cornello’s direction. “And I think I see it. He’s got a stone on his ring, see?”

Becca had to go up on her toes to barely spot the tiny gold band on the priest’s finger. Once she did, however, it seemed extraordinarily clear. She nodded slowly and heard a creak from Ed’s other side. Al had done the same. They had to get closer. Ed hopped off his pedestal and picked up his suitcase, Becca following suit, prepared to elbow their way to the front until the priest dropped his hands and turned, reentering the church. The crowd was quick to disperse, each person going back to their own duties after the afternoon break. Ed swore.

“Let’s go,” he said decisively. “I’m sure we can get an audience with the old man.”

By the time they got to the front, the doors had closed. Ed gave them a tug, then pushed against them with his right shoulder, but they didn’t budge and he groaned.

“Well, we can’t exactly transmute the doors.” Becca glanced around. “That’ll give us away. There has to be another way in.”

“There!” Al said, pointing at a small side door. 

Ed charged at the door and stumbled through when it gave very little resistance. Becca stifled a laugh as she followed, making sure Al was able to duck in behind them. Her laugh died, however, when they went almost directly into a chapel. Even though Ed was on the warpath, Becca slowed down, unable to draw her eyes away from the sprawling ceilings. She tried to take everything in, but there were too many details. Everywhere she looked, there was another sun image, another statue, or another tapestry glorifying a bearded, crowned man. She scrunched her nose up in distaste.

I’m not exactly a beacon of religious etiquette, but this seems like overkill.

“So, this is Leto, huh?” Ed said loudly, pulling Becca’s attention back to him. She followed his gaze to a young woman at the base of the largest statue, with dark, two-toned hair and a white dress, giving her an air similar to the priest’s white robed guards.

The woman stood and turned to them, flashing a smile. “Yes, it is! Are you three interested in Letoism?”

Ed glanced over his shoulder at Becca, then back at the woman. He shrugged. “No, can’t say we are, unfortunately. None of us are too into the religion thing.”

“That is unfortunate,” the woman said, adopting a serene tone. “To deny God is to deny… hope. Leto is amazing. I’m sure if you prayed to him,” she continued, speaking specifically to Ed, “he’d make you grow taller.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ed ground out.

“Brother, calm down, she didn’t mean anything by it,” Al said quietly.

Becca shifted her weight back, eager to distract Ed and get more information out of this woman. “Ma’am, we did actually have some questions,” she said. “This whole… resurrection thing. Bringing the dead back to life. Do you actually believe that?”

“Yes,” the woman said. Becca’s eyes widened. She was creepily fast with that answer, like there was nothing else to think, no other opinion one could possibly have. The blind trust was just… astounding. Or, she considered, maybe it wasn’t exactly blind. Maybe what Cornello preached was possible with a Philosopher’s Stone. But then why waste his time and power on silly little things like flowers? It didn’t make sense.

Ed sighed heavily, collapsing onto one of the pews. He pulled out his travel log, flipping to one of the first pages and reading off a list Becca had memorized: “Water, 35 liters. Carbon, 20 kilograms. Ammonia, 4 liters. Lime, 1.5 kilograms. Phosphorus, 800 grams. Salt, 250 grams. Saltpeter, 100 grams. And trace amounts of other elements. That’s the complete chemical makeup of the average adult.” He shut his journal loudly and Becca squeezed her eyes shut. “We’ve calculated it down to the last little micrograms. But we’re still missing something. There’s never been a successful human transmutation- an actual creation of a human. You honestly think that something modern scientists haven’t been able to crack, you’ll accomplish just through prayer?” he asked derisively.

“The Father tells us, ‘Lift thy voice to God, and those faithful will be rewarded’!” the woman quoted.

“And all those ingredients,” Ed said, raising his voice slightly, “could be purchased at any old market. A kid could buy it all with the change in his pocket.” He leaned back, hands behind his head, the picture of nonchalant arrogance for anyone who couldn’t pick up on his subtle indicators of stress, or those who didn’t know his trademark brand of annoyance into submission. “Turns out, humans are pretty cheap.”

Becca studied the woman. Clearly incensed, she snapped, “That’s blasphemous! We are all made by the Creator, each and every one of us is made in his image-”

“Alchemists are scientists, you see,” Ed interrupted. “We don’t believe in things we can’t prove- gods, creators, you know. We study the world and try to find the truths in it, isn’t that right, guys?”

“That’s one way to put it,” Becca said, giving Ed a sideways glance. Where was he going with this?

Ed nodded, raising a conspiratorial eyebrow in her direction. “Ironically, though it’s scientists who don’t believe in God, we’re arguably the ones who are closest to gods ourselves.”

“Do you think you’re on the same level as God? That- that’s just arrogant!”

“Arrogance?” Ed questioned, horribly composed. “You know, there was a story about that in the old myths… the boy who flew on wings of wax. He flew too close to the sun; his wings melted and he fell into the ocean and drowned.”

“Brother,” Al said warningly.

Becca’s eyes met Ed’s again. They’d gotten good at this- being able to speak in looks rather than words, and she could tell he was on the same train of thought as her. Cornello was clearly a master manipulator given the most powerful tool he could ask for, but why? And from whom?

Becca shook her head, hoping Ed would get the point. We’re stuck with too many damn questions. We need to talk to him, not any of his followers. Let me try. “Miss,” she said politely. She widened her eyes slightly, blinking up at the woman. “Do you think that Father Cornello would see us? Would he be able to save a couple of wayward scientists?”

The woman immediately brightened and clapped her hands together excitedly. “Of course he would! If anyone could help you, it would be the Father!”

Becca smiled demurely in response, grabbing Ed by the arm and pulling him up as the woman chattered away about the many miracles Cornello had performed. Becca walked alongside her to nod when appropriate while the brothers trailed behind. Ed managed to get close enough to murmur, “Keep her talking. We’ll observe while we walk.” 

She gave another imperceptible nod of acknowledgement, then carefully interjected, “So how did you come to see the light, Miss…?”

“Oh!” she exclaimed. “I’m so sorry, how rude of me. My name is Rose. I began following Letoism after… after my boyfriend was involved in a horrible accident…”

As they walked, Rose continued to tell them her story. Becca felt her heart clench for the woman. Not only because she was being taken advantage of, but because it happened at her worst. Her own father had promised virtually the same thing to her: the return of her dearest companion to life.

On the other hand, however sad Rose’s story was, the quickly darkening hallways proved to be a bit more unsettling. The soaring, light marble supports of the chapel and tall windows were gone, replaced by some sort of dark stones lit by torchlight. A guard stopped them, startling Rose out of her reverie.

“Rose, who have you brought into our sanctuary?” the guard asked coldly. “You know the Father doesn’t take kindly to unexpected visitors.”
Rose flinched like a child who’d been reprimanded. 

Becca frowned, a stony expression falling over her face. “We asked her to bring us here to try and learn more about Letoism,” she said, the half-truth slipping easily off of her tongue, “and you are not endearing your Leto very much right now, sir. If you are a beacon of your faith, I’m sure we can see ourselves out.” Ed started behind her, but she held up a hand to still him behind her back. Even if they didn’t know who her and Ed really were, if this Letoism was a sham, they couldn’t have anyone poking their nose around, which meant no one could be overly unhappy with them. They couldn’t afford to leave a bad impression and anyone who worked here, in the epicenter of the church, had to know that. Now the guard just needed to buy her performance-

“Now, wait a just minute,” he said in a hurried voice. “I’m sure we can arrange something, I’ll just need your names for the Father’s records.”

“The Elric brothers and Miss Harper,” Becca said coolly. Vague enough to draw Cornello in without giving away the ace in their sleeves- the might of the military behind them.

The guard nodded, scurrying off into some inner office. “Please wait here for a moment.” 

Ed squeezed her shoulder. She sighed, leaning her head onto his hand. “I thought he was gonna tell us to scram for a second there.”

He barked a laugh. “You getting us kicked out of somewhere? Never.”

“I wonder where he’s going,” Al said.

“Probably to pass the message onto one of the brothers,” Rose suggested. “They’re the only ones allowed into the Father’s inner chambers. It might be a little while,” she said apologetically.

Ed made a face, exchanging an annoyed look with Becca. She shrugged, leaning up against the nearby stone wall and getting comfortable. This could turn into a waiting game, and it wasn’t like they had anywhere else to be. Ed groaned and slid down the wall to sit nearby, then closed his eyes.

“Did you sleep enough on the train?” Becca asked. “It seemed like you were out cold whenever I was awake.”

Ed shrugged. “I think I just woke up whenever you weren’t. I don’t know why. I couldn’t stay asleep.”

Becca nodded thoughtfully, then scooted down to sit beside him. When he looked up at her, she gestured to her shoulder and said, “Well, knowing you, this is going to end in a fight, so you might as well be a little bit well rested.”

Al erupted in giggles nearby for some reason as Ed went pink, but nevertheless, he laid his head down, closing his eyes. Becca gently set her own head on top of his.

“You don’t mind if I take a few minutes as well, do you, Al?”

Al waved her off. “I’ll wake you up.”

---

It took nearly half an hour, but apparently, their refusal to leave had worn the priest down. A different man, dressed in black this time, eventually showed up to guide them to Cornello.

“I’m sure you realize that the Father is very busy,” the man was informing them as he pushed a large door open. “He’d like to get this taken care of as quickly as possible.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Ed said cheerfully. “We wouldn’t want to take too much of his time.”

Becca noticed the guards shutting the door behind them and tensed up as their escort stopped. “Wonderful.” He reached into his black jacket and Becca tried to warn the boys until she heard a click and froze. Her gaze flew up to where the man pointed a handgun at Al. She lunged forward, only to be stopped by a guard pointing his spear at her chest, then raised her hands, showing that she was unarmed. A quick glance to her right saw Ed held hostage by two guards with their weapons crossed across him.

The only one left alone was Rose. “Brother Cray, what are you doing?” she asked incredulously. “These people have come for help, and this is how you treat them?”

“These are heathens, Rose,” the man said easily. “They’ve come to discredit Father Cornello. This is what Leto commands.”

“Brother Cray, that can’t be true-”

“Like you said,” Ed huffed. “Let’s make this quick!” He lurched sideways, elbowing the guard on one side and flipping the other over his shoulder. Becca grabbed the weapon pointed at her by its long, wooden pole, and twisted it away from the guard holding it, and Al simply punched the man with the gun, which fell to the floor and slid somewhere behind them. She heard Rose’s strangled gasp at the sudden violence, but she couldn’t turn around to check on her before the deep voice from the radio was ringing through the sanctuary.

“What’s this racket?” The old man stepped out of the shadows onto a landing overlooking the main area. Becca got the impression he’d been standing there the whole time, testing them, or… studying them. Using his own followers as expendable tools to evaluate how hard he’d have to try against them. Cornello spread his hands in a welcoming gesture. “Ah, I see. The Fullmetal Alchemist, and the Illusion Alchemist. Welcome to the sacred hall of Leto.”

Well, there went that advantage. Dammit, Ed, how many times have I told you to stop introducing us with our full titles.

“Father Cornello!” Rose exclaimed delightedly.

He ignored her. “I must apologize for my disciples, they appear to be misguided.”

“I thought your whole thing was that you were the one guiding them,” Becca said doubtfully.

Cornello ignored her as well. “Have you three come to learn the ways of Letoism?”
“There are a few things I wanna ask about,” Ed called, looking up at the priest. “Like how you’ve been able to use alchemy to deceive all your followers.”

“Not even good alchemy,” Al added.

The father chuckled. “Children, you’re mistaken. My miracles are from the sun god, Leto.” He pressed his hands together, a red light shining briefly through his hands, and a tiny statue mimicking the one in the chapel formed. “There, see? Alchemy can’t create something from nothing.”

“Not alone, it couldn’t,” Becca said frankly. “That’s what we didn’t understand when we watched you earlier, with the flowers- how did you bypass the Law of Equivalent Exchange?”

“Because it isn’t alchemy, foolish girl!” he snapped.

Becca glared up at him. “But alchemy can be amplified, even a second rate alchemist knows that,” she resumed.

“If you managed to get a certain object, everything you’ve done and more suddenly becomes possible,” Ed said, pushing his bangs back with one gloved hand while the other rested on his hip. “And that explained everything.”

“What do you mean?” Cornello demanded.

“I mean, the Philosopher’s Stone, that one there on your ring,” Ed said dangerously, stepping forward. “That is it, isn’t it?”

Cornello quickly covered up the gleaming red stone as if that would deter Ed from his mission. “The ring is just a ring. Leto is the only thing granting me my abilities, not some stone .”

“Still trying to pull that line on me?” Ed just kept stalking closer. Becca stayed back, near Al, both ready to jump in if needed, but, despite his short stature and garish fashion, they knew Ed could be intimidating when he wanted to be. Becca hoped against hope that maybe, just maybe, Cornello would just give up the stone and they could leave without a fight, however bleak those odds were becoming. “If you think I won’t just come up there and beat the truth out of you, you’re an even bigger idiot than you look!”

The final remnants of Father Cornello’s original sunny disposition faded away. “You really are quite a brat, aren’t you? Rose?”

“Y-yes, Father?”

Becca inhaled sharply. Rose. She hadn’t spoken in so long, she’d forgotten the young woman was even in the room with them. She started forward, to stop Ed, they couldn’t just have an all-out battle with her in the room, there were too many dangerous things that could happen to a normal civilian-

“Pick up that gun, the one right by your feet.”

“I- alright,” she said, audibly uncomfortable even as she obeyed.

No!

“Now, please shoot one of the State Alchemists.”

Becca’s eyes widened. Al’s armor creaked as he moved ever so slightly closer to Ed and all three of them turned to face a panic stricken Rose.

“I- I can’t do that, Father!” she whispered.

There’s hope after all. Becca jumped on that chance, the knowledge that Rose didn’t want to kill any of them. That want had to win out against her faith at all costs, so Becca did what she did best out of the three of them- she started convincing. “You don’t have to, Rose,” she said gently. “Just put down the gun-”

“Ah ah ah, I am the sun god’s chosen one,” Cornello interrupted. “My word is his word. Do it, Rose. That is an order from Leto.”

“Don’t do it,” Becca said in a more commanding tone. “You can’t take that bullet back, please, think about this-”

“Why are you hesitating?” he interjected again. “If you will not do it for Leto, there was a man on this Earth who brought you out of the darkness and into the light when your fiance was killed last year? Do you remember who that was?”

Rose let out a few heartbroken whimpers. “It was you, Father!”

“No matter what he did, you don’t owe him this. You don’t owe him anything!” Becca said urgently, but Rose didn’t even react to her, all her attention focused on the gun in her hands.

“Exactly, it was I who saved you from yourself when you were drowning in despair! And what did I promise you would happen if you followed all the commands given to me by Leto?”

“You said you’d bring him back!” Rose sobbed, eyes wide and teary.

“Yes!” Cornello encouraged, “And this is one of Leto’s commands! Now shoot them! Start with the Fullmetal Alchemist!”

Rose wept as she aimed the gun.

“Hey, wait!” Al protested, waving his hands frantically. “It’s not me!”

Rose faltered, sniffling. “I-it’s not?” She lowered the weapon and looked over at Ed, shocked.

“I’m the damn Fullmetal Alchemist!” Ed shrieked. “Not him! It’s me!”

“It’s the short one?” Cornello said in disbelief.

Becca took advantage of the distraction. “Listen to me, Rose, please, listen. I know how you feel. You want to bring him back, more than anything, so much it hurts, but it’s not worth this- I promise, it can’t be worth this-”

“Don’t you see?” Rose said brokenly, aiming the gun at Ed. “I don’t have a choice. I have to do this.”

“You do have a choice, we’ll make sure you get out of this okay,” Becca assured. “Put the gun down and we'll all get out of this.”

“He’s lying to you, Rose,” Ed chimed in. “He’s been lying to you- to everyone-”

“You’re wrong! He’s going to bring him back, I’ve seen his miracles, they work-”

“No, he won’t Rose, he’s using you to avoid getting his hands dirty,” Becca attempted to reason with her until Ed cut her off by putting an arm across her chest.

“Then shoot,” he challenged.

“Ed, no-!”

Rose sobbed once more before the gun went off. Becca heard Al scream as the armor clattered to the ground, then the telltale sign of his head rolling away.

“Al!”

“Dammit!”

Ed rushed to Al’s side while Becca slowly moved towards Rose, who still held the gun in her hand. The woman took in a shaky breath before a high, remorseful sound practically fell out of her mouth in the same moment the gun slipped out of her hand. Becca held out her own hands, aware that they were shaking but needing to show Rose that she wasn’t dangerous. “Rose, take my hand. Step away from the gun. It’ll be alright-”

“Well done, my child,” Cornello said paternally. “Leto is pleased with you. Now pick it back up and shoot the other two.”

“Haven’t you made her do enough already?” Al sat up as Ed retrieved his wayward head. “That was a horrible thing to make your disciple do!”

“How did you-?” Cornello muttered, staring at Al’s headless body.

“I thought I’d-” Rose started.

“It’s alright,” Becca said soothingly. “No harm done, right, guys?”

Ed frowned, knocking on Al’s chestplate. “Yeah, he’s pretty sturdy.”

Al leaned forward, showing the emptiness inside the armor. “See? I’m fine, don’t worry about it.”

Rose gasped, her hands over her mouth as Al fixed his head back into its place. Cornello spat in disgust at the brothers. “Don’t you see, Rose? These ‘children’ are just unholy abominations sent to test our faith in Leto! They must be destroyed!” He stepped back into the shadows and there was a loud scraping noise. Knowing where this was most likely going, Becca stepped back, falling in her usual spot on Ed’s left and crouching into a fighting position. A low growl emitted from under the landing the priest stood on and a chill went down Becca’s spine as she realized that this was no sanctuary- it was an arena. Cornello introduced their opponent darkly. “And I believe my chimera should be able to take care of them.”

Something that could only be described as a beast or a monster emerged out of the darkness. Glowing red eyes appeared first, followed by a mash up of several animals, and Becca swallowed nervously. She resisted the urge to form her usual staff and breathed out, already observing the chimera for weaknesses, of which she could find none.

“So this is what you’re using a Philosopher’s Stone for?” Ed asked, disgusted. “That’s sick. Either way, I guess I’ll need a weapon.” He lazily stepped forward, clapping his hands together to form an elaborate spear that Ed spun around in his right hand, slamming the blunt end into the ground.

Becca noticed Rose, clearly still panicked from thinking that she killed someone, standing stock still nearby. The poor woman glanced up at Father Cornello, who didn’t even bother looking at her, and Becca knew they’d have to protect her as well as themselves, since Cornello obviously wouldn’t.“Stay calm and stay over there, Rose,” she urged, creating her usual staff out of a nearby column and striking a defensive position. Alphonse deliberately put himself between Rose and the chimera as it stalked towards them.

“No transmutation circles?” Cornello asked furiously. “You are gifted, I guess those titles aren’t just for show. However…” 

The chimera lunged. Becca met it halfway, batting its large paw away, twisting under the chimera, and sending it flying straight towards Ed, where it scratched at his leg, searching for purchase. She cringed. “Sorry!” she called out.

Cornello laughed. “Your weapons are no match for claws that can cut through iron!”

Unfazed, Ed just grinned darkly up at him. “You shredded my pants-” He swung his leg up, kicking the animal back, “-but I guess those claws don’t do as well against steel.”

“Bite the brat, you stupid beast!” Cornello ordered as he leaned over the railing. 

The chimera charged once more, this time heading straight towards Ed. Its teeth clamped around Ed’s arm, but he didn’t flinch. “That’s right, kitty, get a good taste!” he snarked. He ducked down, allowing Becca to jab the end of her staff at the chimeras forehead and knock it backwards.

“You have a metal arm too?” Cornello said with an ugly grimace. “And your brother- he’s just a suit of armor!” Understanding dawned across his face. “Oh- oh, I see. Yes, it’s all becoming clear. You did it, didn’t you?” Ed looked down, jaw locked, as he dramatically tugged off his cloak. Cornello laughed again. “The one thing every alchemist knows is entirely forbidden!”

“How about you come down here and fight me?” Ed provoked, “I’ll show you just how outclassed you are!”

Cornello turned to Rose, finally acknowledging her after basically leaving her to die if the chimera got past Al. Becca stared at Rose, waiting for her reaction as he taunted Ed. Rose, for her credit, looked horrified rather than delighted like Cornello, but when he finally told her exactly what had happened to the brothers- they’d attempted to resurrect someone- and her eyes filled with tears once again, Becca forced herself to look away from her and towards Cornello, lifting her chin defiantly.

“This is what happens when you try to play god,” Ed said quietly.

“You don’t want that, Rose. Believe me, you don’t,” Becca added.

Cornello sneered down at them, goading, “So really, the Fullmetal Alchemist isn’t even half a man- hell, he’s not even half a boy!” He turned on Becca, pointing accusingly at her. “And you! What price has arrogance taken from you? There’s no way any self-respecting alchemist could know what these two have done and stick with them unless you yourself did the same!”

“Oh, yeah? And you’re just some phony who needs that stone to do anything!” Ed shouted.

“Father, we just want you to give us the stone before someone gets hurt,” Al spoke up for the first time, holding out his hand.

“Why, so you can use it to trespass on God’s domain again?” Cornello mocked. “Please! If you’re so eager to be gods, maybe I should just send you to meet him instead!” 

Notes:

i hope you and your loved ones are staying healthy and safe, and i'll see you all in the next update! -c

Chapter 7: ephemeral

Notes:

hey my dears!

i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry! i've had this chapter finished for a hot sec, but right after i posted the last chapter my work opened unexpectedly for the summer and we were shortstaffed ALL SEASON, meaning i was basically working on this for ten-twenty minute increments whenever i had time.

but anyway! the time for excuses is over! we are in the now!

my school started about a week ago, so theoretically i'll be able to actually keep an updating schedule. either way, i am going to try and do a better job of keeping y'all updated on when i'll have to take hiatuses again. if you're still coming back after my unexpected break or if you're new who just found this because i finally updated and got this story back at the top of the list, thank you so much for every bit of support you give. you have no idea how much it warmed my heart whenever i had time to check on this and saw more kudos even though i wasn't active. i love each and every one of you so much and you have no idea how much i missed this while i was gone.

if you actually read my rambling, welcome to the end of my note! if you didn't, welcome to the next chapter!

ephemeral (adjective)- lasting for a very short time

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Bright red transmutation energy crackled around Cornello, obscuring him from view until the tip a machine gun jutted out from the smoke.

Becca’s jaw dropped. “You’ve got to be kidding me.” Before she could react, Ed had grabbed her around the waist

 and yanked her behind him in the same moment that he transmuted a thick stone wall in front of them as Cornello opened fire. Al moved quickly, shielding Rose even further as her supposed savior continued to disregard her life in favor of coming after Ed, Al, and Becca.

“Yeah, see, I don’t think God and me are on very good terms,” Ed said as the dust settled, one hand still raised as if bracing the stone. “Even if I did meet him, he’d probably just send me back!”

Cornello shouted, enraged.

“Al, go!” Becca shouted. When he hesitated, she demanded, “Get her out of here! We’ll be right behind you!” A moment’s hesitation, then Al nodded and scooped Rose up, making a break for the door as the priest fired another round of bullets. She snagged Ed’s hand and bolted after him. “Come on, we’re getting out of here too!”

A quick glance around proved that a dash for the door was too dangerous with Cornello raining bullets down onto them. However, Becca realized, Al wasn’t running for the door. He was running straight at the wall.

“Brother!”

“On it!” Ed shouted, clapping his hands, forming a huge stone door.

Becca rolled her eyes at his garish design, the horned doorknobs a stark contrast to the sun filled imagery throughout the rest of the church, as they dashed through and startled a group of loitering guards near the actual door. She briefly wondered if they’d been positioned there to stop them, should they escape from Cornello, but they had to run before she could really consider the possibility. She flashed a glance over her shoulder and groaned. In an odd show of agility, the old priest leaped down the stairs from his balcony, and he ran out the door behind them just a few seconds later.

“After them, you idiots!” he snapped at the dazed guards. As if compelled, each of them got to their feet, drawing guns as the father shouted at them, “Those heathens came here to disrupt our way of life and destroy the order! Go, seize them!”

Becca screwed her head forward, focusing on the hallway ahead, and started, “Ed, do you have a…” Her eyes widened and she slowed down. “...plan?” she said weakly. A line of white robes guards, chaperoned by two church officials dressed in black, blocked both forks in the hall.

“Alright, kids, that’s enough,” one of the brothers said in a faux warm tone.

“You’re unarmed and outnumbered,” the other agreed. “We don’t want to have to hurt a couple of little kids.”

Al slowed alongside Becca, giving his brother some space after the ‘little’ comment, both of them knowing what was surely to come. Ed, on the other hand, cackled, transmuted his arm into his usual weapon, and continued running at the guards. The apparent kamikaze move combined with a large, pointy blade spooked the guards. They scattered. (Ed punched a few to get them out of the way, but that’s neither here nor there.)

A second group around the corner was met with an equally terrifying sight: Alphonse kicking his way through the small crowd, Rose still shrieking in his arms. One man grabbed Becca’s wrist, squeezing tightly. She elbowed him in the stomach hard enough that he doubled over, then looked down at her wrist and huffed. That was going to leave a bruise. Ed laughed a little too gleefully as they bolted. 

“Here!” Becca spotted a broom closet and shouldered it open, only barely managing to squeeze into the tiny room with Ed, Al, and Rose while still shutting the door behind them. Rose looked like she was about to scream again, so Becca slapped a hand over her mouth until the guards’ footsteps faded. “Sorry,” she whispered. Rose stared at all three of them, wide eyed, as Becca lowered her hand. She looked to Ed and let her eyes fall to his arm. “You can probably put that away now. It’s taking up space.”

Ed rolled his eyes. “You’re just jealous of how badass my arm looks.”

Either way, one transmutation later, his arm was back to its normal shape, allowing them all a little more breathing room. Becca ran a thumb over the pendant on her choker as she thought. She resisted the urge to pace, then the urge to jump when Al asked, “So what are we going to do?”

“I think there’s only one thing to do,” Ed said with a shrug. “We know he has a Philosopher’s Stone, but we don’t know how he got it.”

“Or why he has it in the first place,” Becca added. “You said it yourself, Ed, he’s a second rate alchemist. Someone had to have made it for him, but why give up that kind of power? Especially when he’s kind of just… wasting it here?”

Ed smirked. “I think we might just be able to get those answers and that stone, all in one fell swoop.”

“Wait!” Rose interrupted. She looked down at her feet when they all looked at her, but soldiered on. “The Father must have a reason for everything, I’m sure he’s just confused and if you let him explain-”

The heavy feeling of pity sank into Becca’s stomach. Cornello was Rose’s beacon of hope, she’d made that perfectly clear. She hated to rip that away from her, but- “We need to get him alone, but we can’t let him escape the church grounds. If he has any of his followers with him, we run the risk of hurting innocent people as well as risking ourselves again in an outnumbered fight. And…” She spared a look for Rose, meeting her eyes for only a second before looking away, “we need to get him to spill the truth.”

“Publicly,” Al suggested. “So everyone knows the truth. Whatever it may be.”

Ed held up a hand and gave Rose a firm look. “ You can bet he’ll be explaining a lot. But you have a choice here. You can either help us find the truth or you can try and hurt us. Which is it going to be?”

Rose hesitated. “I- I don’t-”

“How long has he told you what to do?” Becca implored. “What do you want to do?”

Her gaze hardened ever so slightly. “Fine- fine, I’ll help. What do you need me to do?”

“Good choice,” Ed said. “Now listen, what do you guys think about this?”

---

Becca ducked around a corner and through a door, purposely leaving it open so Cornello, hot on her tail, would have a clear path to follow. She stopped and looked around the garden she’d run into. The perfect playground for her to make some mischief. She checked in on the window of Cornello’s office. The light was still off, meaning that Ed’s trap wasn’t ready yet, and she could hear Cornello’s heavy footsteps and breathing getting closer and closer.

As the priest threw the door open, Becca giggled at his bright red face and hoisted herself up via a low hanging tree branch.

“You little wretch!” he shouted up at her. “Get back down here!”

“Make me,” Becca said cooly, gripping another branch. She shimmied along, keeping the window in sight as Cornello growled and followed along from the ground. He was without his machine gun, given that it would surely alarm at least a few of his clearer minded followers if he were to sprint through the church with a weapon, so he couldn’t shoot her out of the tree, but he did try to reach up and strike her legs and ankles with his cane to take her out. Becca kept barely dodging, only serving to frustrate him more and more with each missed swipe.

“Get down here and face your God!” he demanded.

“Don’t give yourself too much credit,” she said bluntly. “You can hardly call yourself a man, much less a god.”

Cornello laughed cruelly. “You have the nerve to insult my humanity while you travel with those two abominations? The Fullmetal Alchemist and his brother should hardly even be classified as real people ! Not even I could save them now, not after the sins they’ve committed.” His eyes glinted. “Your soul- your very life- grows filthier every second you’re with them, but you could still be saved. Renounce them, child, and join me-”

Becca found herself wishing looks could kill. Cornello wouldn’t be a problem if that was the case.

“I’ll leave my friends when hell freezes over,” she said abruptly, “and you couldn’t ‘save’ me either.”

“You?” the priest said incredulously, looking her up and down. “How?”

“Like I’d tell you,” she scoffed. A quick change in the corner of her eye and she was off again, evaluating a few floors worth of window sills up to the newly lit up office.

“Now wait a- where are you going?” Cornello called. “My men said your friends had gone-”

Ah, she thought suddenly, he thought I’d be leading him to Ed and Al. And probably Rose as well. Then we’d be outside, surrounded by all of his people. He’d have even more of an advantage. Despite everything, she had to admit Cornello was tricky. Not particularly smart, but he knew how to use his surroundings to his advantage. Not for long. A small smile bloomed across her face as she leaped across a tiny gap to the first level of windows. She jumped and managed to catch the next sill, pulled herself up, arms shaking, to the next level, and crossed shakily to the next one over. She could hear Cornello shouting angrily and the door inside slamming, but she knew he wouldn’t get to his office before her.

Or she hoped he wouldn’t, at least.

The inkling of fear fueled her. She knocked on the window and she couldn’t stop relief from flooding her chest when Ed pushed the curtains aside and helped her inside.

“Thanks,” she panted, collapsing into Cornello’s chair. “You owe me.”

Ed practically hopped onto the desk, one of his legs coming to rest on each arm of her chair. “Uh-huh. I’ll be sure to treat you to some tea when we get back to East City. In the meantime, if I already owe you-" He kicked the arm of the chair his right foot sat on, sending it spinning. Becca shrieked. He grinned. "-Might as well."

She glared up at him through her fringe once the chair slowed to a stop. "Just for that, tack on some ginger snaps that I will not be sharing." Ed rolled his eyes, going silent. Becca leaned back, feeling the chair recline slightly behind her and adopting a slightly more serious tone as the silence stretched longer and longer. “Are you okay?” she asked, concerned.

“What?”

Becca scoffed incredulously. “What Cornello said- he was a dick,” she said bluntly, pleased to see Ed quirk a tiny smile. “He had no right to talk to you like that-”

Ed’s face grew stormy as he turned away. “He wasn’t wrong-”

Becca gazed up sympathetically. She leaned forward, taking Ed’s hands. “Ed, look at me.” He bit his lip, not responding. She squeezed his flesh hand and requested, “Please?” Ed looked up, gold eyes hard, brows furrowed. Becca raised a brow. “Would you ever want Al to take something like that seriously? Hell, would you even let him consider it? Be honest.”

Thankfully, Ed shook his head. She pushed on. “Or me?”

He sighed heavily. “No,” he admitted.

“You wouldn’t let anyone who said that to us get through their next sentence, Ed,” she said earnestly.

“It’s different-”

“You’re no different than us,” Becca insisted, “Al would back me up on that.” She raised her chin, daring him to disagree.

He glanced away, then waved her off, dropping her hands. “Yeah, yeah,” he said, checking the time on the large, ticking grandfather clock. He wrinkled his nose. “How long do you think the old bastard is going to take?” he asked rhetorically, leaning back so his head tilted over the edge of the desk, but he lasted only a few seconds before he pulled his head back up to meet her eyes.

Footsteps thundered up the stairs, both of their heads snapping up. “Speak of the devil and he shall appear,” Becca said quietly as she stood up from her chair. “We’re continuing this later,” she promised.

Notably, Ed didn’t respond, just kicking his legs up onto the desk and levelling a heavy stare on the open door. Cornello dashed past, then backpedaled, his large form filling up the doorway, effectively caging her and Ed in. 

“You brats!” he snapped. “When I get my hands on you-”

“Look, can I just be straight with you here?” Ed interrupted heatedly. “All I want are some answers about the stone, alright?”

Becca tilted her head, crossing her legs at the ankles, looking every bit of a nonthreatening girl the priest assumed her to be as she leaned over the desk and ‘accidentally’ bumped the Father’s microphone switch to ‘on’. Hopefully Al got that speaker to work. “We don’t need to get the military involved,” she added, lobbing a casual threat into Cornello’s periphery. If he wasn’t utterly dense, he’d pick up on the unspoken, But we can. And we will.

Cornello groaned exaggeratedly, looking over his shoulder before slamming the door shut behind him. There were a few moments where he seemed to wrestle with something, but he gave in. “What do you want to know?”

“That stone- it gives you insurmountable power, right?” Ed said, leaning forward almost hungrily. Becca put a hand on his back, if not to soothe him, then to at least ground him. Remind him that he couldn’t just go ahead and take the stone, no matter how much he wanted to. They had a plan to stick to.

“Yes, you’re well studied,” Cornello said, sneering patronizingly.

“Some might say you’re wasting that power,” Becca said with a forced cool tone. “Why stick around here with phony miracles when you arguably have the power of a god right there in your hands?”

“Oh, foolish children…” The priest chuckled darkly. “You truly do not understand the ways of the world.” His lips curved up into a gruesome smile. “With each miracle, I draw more and more followers to my call. Followers who would gladly throw their lives around if I asked them to. I’m building an army who’ll aid me in my quest to spread ‘Letoism’ to all corners of the earth, even at the cost of their own lives! Soon enough, I’ll be able to just point and they’ll follow my every command and we will rip this country to shreds!” He grinned maniacally. “After all, what use would I have for the stone after my goal is accomplished? I’m getting all the juice out of it now, and when I’m done, I won’t even need it anymore.” Cornello gave them a once over, snickering, “Perhaps if you two are obedient and keep your mouths shut, I’ll leave a bit of the leftovers for you!” Ending his monologue, he burst into loud laughter.

Becca and Ed shared a look. She smiled, shrugging, gesturing down to the switch, and they both started laughing as well, making Cornello stop short.

“What are you two laughing at?” he snapped.

Ed opened his eyes, smirking casually. “Sorry, sorry, it’s just-” He held up a hand and Becca picked up the switch, showing it off with a sweet smile. “-We knew you were a second rate.”

Cornello’s eyes widened. His gaze traced the wire down, down, down to the microphone that Ed had placed on the floor, sitting right between his feet. Becca could see the moment it all clicked in his mind.

“No!” he howled, feedback ringing through the city. “You wretched- wretched- how long? How long has that thing been on?”

“Pretty much as soon as you started talking,” Becca said proudly. “Don’t worry, I made sure your followers heard every word you had to say about them.”

“You’ll pay for this!” Cornello raged, raising his walking stick again.

Ed lurched off the table, charging Cornello with his alchemy crackling around his metal arm. “You’re not getting away with that trick again!” He sliced through the barrel of the machine gun- no, bazooka that Cornello had created- with ease, growling, “Face it, old timer. You’re outclassed.”

“Damn you! I am without rival!” Father Cornello shouted. A blinding red light encased his entire body, and Becca’s stomach lurched. Something about this transmutation felt different. Felt awful. Felt morbidly wrong . She flinched back, guarding the microphone switch. They’d decided before, the more the townspeople heard, the more they’d snap out of this trance. Ed flipped away from the Father, protecting the switch as well, and landed behind the desk, next to her, in a crouch. She needed to keep the broadcast going as long as possible. But even she couldn’t stifle a gasp of shock when the light around Cornello faded, revealing a horrifying amalgamation of man and machine, his attempt to repair his gun having melded into the skin of his arm. Wideyed, the man made a surprised choking noise.

“A rebound…” Becca breathed. Cornello was losing his focus. He was unstable. And unstable, in Becca’s book, meant unpredictable. And unpredictable meant dangerous. They needed to end this fight, ASAP. Preferably before it even really started.

“No!” Cornello bellowed. “I will not be disgraced by two upstart children!” His eyes filled with a manic fire and red light spread from his ring up his arm, then over the rest of his body, obscuring him from view. Scraps of fabric flew as his form expanded past the limits of his clothes and his voice rumbled. “Behold the chosen emissary of the Sun God!”

“What the hell…?” Ed mumbled, standing up .

Becca swallowed thickly. “Uh oh.”

The priest lunged at them. Becca grabbed Ed’s hand, trying to make a run for the door, but Cornello was already on them. Luckily, his hulking form hit the side wall before them, knocking clean through the stone, and then they were falling- why were they falling?

Before she could fully register that, of course, Cornello’s office would share a wall with the chapel they’d been in earlier, she had landed with a thump on top of Ed, knocking the wind out of both of them. She scrambled off of him, rolling up to her feet and into a defensive stance. A quick glance sideways proved that Ed had done the same, and even Father Cornello had paused, his chest heaving. Heart in her throat, panting breaths the only sound in her ears, Becca leaned back as Cornello advanced.

It seemed like every punch she or Ed managed to land was met with two from the priest. She fell into an instinctual dance, twisting and leaping, occasionally meeting Ed’s eye and watching his back carefully. There was no way they could have planned for this .

Cornello’s fist flew through the air, checking Becca and sending her spinning. Her shriek of surprise, however, did give Ed a split second warning, and even as she called out his name, she knew had managed to avoid injury, given that Cornello had grunted in pain. She shot towards his closed fist, hitting the back of his wrist with her full body weight. The force knocked his hand into his gut, pushing him back and revealing Ed, automail arm up in a blocking motion. Their eyes met and he grinned.

“Thanks, Bex.”

“Anytime.” She came to stand next to him, jutting her chin out as Cornello got to his feet once more. He swayed and stumbled a bit and Becca felt her mouth twitch into a smile. One touch between her and Ed, one brush of the arm, and the knowledge was shared between them. He was slowing down. Made sense, considering how big this body was compared to the one he was used to operating. Either way, it worked to their advantage.

The priest glared down at them. “Foolish children!” he snarled, “My word is the word of God! My fist is the fist of God!”

Next to her, Ed stiffened, then a slow, maniacal smile spread over his face. That look could only mean so many things, and, after she followed his gaze to the huge statue behind them, she had a feeling she knew what he planned to do.

“Edward, don’t-”

“Oh, so it’s the fist of God you want?” Ed shouted, taking off towards the foot of the statue. “Then I’ll give you the fist of God!” Blue energy, a stark contrast to the red from the Philosopher’s Stone, stemmed from Ed’s hands and danced over and up the stone statue of Leto. Becca took a running start, leapt at Cornello and clawed her way over his shoulder, then kicked him in the back and knocked him forward, simultaneously getting out of Ed’s way and providing a closer target. When she looked back, the statue’s huge stone hand had expanded and made a grabbing motion for the priest.

“Can’t go too fast like that, huh?” Becca observed when Cornello couldn’t move quite quickly enough to get himself out of the way and was smashed into the ground by the hand. “Nice work,” she said as Ed approached from the base of the statue. A quick glance showed morphing in the stone showing the exact track Ed’s transmutation had taken, quite literally creating the “fist of God” pinning Cornello down. “If a touch dramatic.”

“I believe the word you’re looking for is ‘badass’,” Ed said, then scowled down at the priest, whose eyes widened. “And as for you,” he said furiously, aiming a punch at Cornello with his metal arm, “Give me the damn stone!”

The priest raised a hand to defend himself, which Ed’s fist hit on the way to his face. Becca heard two snaps and winced, sure that Ed must have just broken Cornello’s nose and at least one of his fingers. However, her concern was quickly overshadowed by surprise when the tiny red stone gave one last weak burst of light before tumbling off of Cornello’s ring and onto the stone floor, where it broke.

Becca’s jaw dropped and she was unable to stop the surprised, “Huh?” from falling out of her mouth.

“It- it just broke?” Ed asked hollowly, as if to confirm what they’d all seen.

Cornello started to visibly sweat. “I- I don’t know how-”

It didn’t shatter, Becca thought, trying to catalogue what she’d just seen. It just… disintegrated into nothing. No regular stone does that, but-

“A Philosopher’s Stone can’t break, it’s perfect material!” Ed groaned despondently, bringing a hand up to his face.

“I don’t know anything about it,” Cornello said frantically, trying to scramble away. “You were right, I am a second rate alchemist- a third rate one, even! I didn’t make the stone, please spare me-”

“So that means…” Becca said slowly.

Their eyes met for a moment before Becca looked away, her stomach sinking. “It’s a fake,” they said in unison.

Numbly, Ed mumbled to himself, “We risked everything for this chance, did everything we did today… All that work and the stone’s a damn fake.”

Becca bent down, busying herself with working the stone fist off of Cornello’s lower body, the mundane action allowing her to organize her thoughts. They hadn’t had a lead this promising since… since the MacDougal hunt years ago, and given what she’d just seen, it was likely that the one back then easily could have been a fake too. She was pulled out of her reverie when Cornello was freed and immediately scrambled away from her, looking fearfully up at Ed. He laughed nervously. “So, ah… what about me?”

Ed’s eyes snapped up from his boots, filled with fiery rage once again. “I really don’t give a damn what you do! Just get out of here!” he snapped. He stomped once in Cornello’s direction, spooking the old man into practically crawling away, still snivelling out excuses as Becca stood back up and slung an arm around Ed’s shoulders.

“I’m sorry, Ed,” she murmured, looking at the spot on the floor where the stone had vanished.

He huffed, letting his head fall on her shoulder. “Don’t apologize,” Ed said like he always did. “‘S not like it’s your fault.” He sighed heavily and put his head on top of his hand, allowing her to lean her head against his hair. They were silent for a few moments until Ed guiltily asked, “How am I supposed to tell Al? What am I supposed to tell him?” He pasted a fake smile onto his face, sarcastically offering, “‘Sorry, buddy, we were literally this close to fixing the biggest mistake of our lives, but it was yet another false lead. My bad!’”

She let out a breath, biting her lip. “He won’t be angry with you,” she said gently. “He might be disappointed, but so are you, right?”

“That’s one way to describe it,” Ed said. “This was closer than we’ve ever gotten, and somehow, we still ended up with nothing to show for it.”

Becca thought for a moment, but she couldn’t come up with anything that would make the situation better, though that didn’t stop her from trying. “I’m sure he won’t see it that way,” she reasoned. “You know Al, he always sees the bright side.” She smiled sadly, gesturing to the two of them with a flippant hand that she then wrapped around Ed’s shoulders. “Certainly better than we do.”

Though it wasn’t much of a reaction, Ed gave her a gloomy chuckle. She squeezed his shoulders and suggested, “C’mon. Let’s go get your coat and get out of this damn desert.”

---

Becca had let go of Ed, letting him lead the way as they exited the church and giving the brothers a few moments alone. She paused at the doorway and took in the massive building’s interior from the main door. It was depressing, really. Earlier, the place had been bright with sunlight, but the church had been abandoned, within hours of the revelation and no one had gone around to light the candles hanging around the shadowy hall. The huge building was so out of place in such a rundown town where she could tell the residents had put genuine effort in to aid a cause they believed in, and now everything it stood for was gone.

“What a waste,” she said to herself, sighing a bit as she turned away from the sorry sight to the huge double doors leading outside, taking in the sun setting over the multiple levels. Her eyes travelled down to where Ed and Al were standing alongside the luggage, both their heads bowed as they spoke in low voices. She flipped the collar of her jacket up, taking one more glance around the sprawling town, and started her descent down the stairs.

“I can’t believe he did all that and it was just a fake,” Al was saying. Neither brother turned to look at her, but she could tell they knew she was approaching by a subtle shift back towards her to include her in their little group. She smiled ruefully, touching Al’s arm.

“It sucks,” Becca said frankly, shrugging dejectedly. “There’s no other way to say it, it just sucks.”

“I really am sorry, Al,” Ed said. “I thought this was it. I thought we were going to get your body back.”

Al shoved Ed’s shoulder, shaking him out of his somber mood. “I was more worried about your automail, dummy! You put it through so much, eventually it’s just going to break, and then what?”

Looking a bit livelier, Ed shoved Al back. “Not like I can help it when we keep getting into fights like that!”

Becca giggled, joining in the banter. “And who’s fault is that? I’ll give you a hint, it’s not usually me or Al.”

“You guys always pick on me. I’m the older brother, so you should at least watch it, Alphonse,” Ed complained, sticking his tongue out at them. They went quiet for a few moments, then burst out into laughter. Becca revelled in the pure childishness of the action. “We’re alright,” Ed said as they caught their breaths. “We’ve just got to keep looking somewhere else, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Al and Becca said in unison.

Though it wasn’t a grin, Ed shot them a tiny, genuine smile. “Let’s get out of here,” he said.

“Stop! Don’t take another step!”

Becca’s eyes flew up to the figure coming up to the staircase, narrowing her eyes to see through the evening desert haze. Her face fell. “Rose…”

The young woman stopped about ten feet away and slowly raised the tiny handgun Cornello had given her earlier. Becca inhaled sharply, noting Rose’s shaking hands. From what she’d picked up on from Rose, as well as her behavior when she’d fired on Al earlier, Becca couldn’t imagine Rose would actually shoot, but sadness, anger, and desperation were unpredictable variables, especially after the day she’d had- they’d all had.

“Give me the Philosopher’s Stone!” she demanded, voice trembling. “I know you have it- give it to me!”

“It wasn’t real. Cornello’s Stone was a fake-” Becca explained.

“You’re lying!” Rose cried, her face contorting with pain as she waved the gun haphazardly between Ed and Al. “You’re just trying to keep it for yourself so you can… so you can use it on your bodies! And bring your mother back!”

All three of them flinched backwards,  even Becca, though the jab wasn’t directed at her. Ed recovered first, clenching his fist. “Shut up!” he snapped. “Don’t talk about things you don’t understand!” His voice got softer, though it still held an undertone of anger from her insinuation. “People don’t come back from the dead, Rose. Not ever.”

The young woman flinched and Becca winced, preparing for a gunshot. However, by the time she’d touched her hands together and reached for the ground, Rose had already collapsed to her knees on the landing. The gun skittered away, falling down a few steps. At least the damn thing was finally out of the way. Once she verified that it was out of reach, however, she was left with only one option: to look at Rose.

“This can’t be happening,” the woman said weakly. “He said he could bring him back… How am I supposed to keep going without him?”

Becca’s heart cried out for her. Earlier in the closet, there was still a blossom of hope, and she thought Rose had honestly thought it would have all just been a misunderstanding and she’d just help them prove it, when that clearly wasn’t how the day ended. Even as Ed put a hand out to stop her, she crossed the landing and knelt next to Rose, who lowered her head into her hands with a despaired sob. “Why does it have to be like this? What am I supposed to do?” she demanded, then begged, “Please… tell me!”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Becca began, hesitantly reaching out to move Rose’s hands away from her face and holding them between her own. “But you need to hear this, from someone who made an even bigger mistake in the same circumstances: you can’t throw your life away because you lost someone. They wouldn’t want that. They would want you to be happy and safe, not risking everything for something you know is impossible. Because I think you’re smart, Rose. A lot smarter than that good for nothing ass gave you credit for. I think you knew he wasn’t coming back.” Rose’s face crumpled a bit more, but she didn’t deny it. Becca continued, “You were taken advantage of. You made mistakes. I understand. But you can make up for them. This is not the end of your life as long as you don’t let it be. You have so much more to give to this world if you’re willing to stick around and work for it. I promise.”

Rose’s lip quivered, but she didn’t cover her face again when Becca let go of her to stand up. She heard Ed’s uneven footsteps and Al’s clanking ones coming up behind her, and eventually passing both her and Rose.

“We can’t tell you what to do,” Ed said firmly. “It’s time for you to decide that on your own. You’ve got two perfectly good legs. You need to get up and use them.”

It was silent for a moment as it became clear that Rose wasn’t going to respond, simply turning her head up to the sky and letting tears drip down her face. Becca felt her face fall as she forced herself to start walking down the stairs as well. She suddenly remembered the thrown away gun and bent down to pick it up. She looked down at it, then back at Rose.

“Good luck,” she said quietly, tossing the pistol into a nearby fountain. She hoped she’d ruined it.

----

Liore was nearly silent as they trudged back to the train station. It was as if the whole town was holding its breath, but they couldn’t afford to stay and see the aftermath. Al’s naturally loud footsteps seemed out of place in the still city.

“Do you think the colonel will send someone to check on this place?” Becca asked quietly.

Ed glanced around apprehensively. Becca couldn’t help but copy him, feeling like many pairs of eyes were watching her from the windows around them. He shook his head. “Yeah- yeah, I’m sure he’ll send some troops in to make sure the transition goes smoothly after he reads your report.”

Despite the tension thick in the air, Becca rolled her eyes and pointedly argued, “ Our reports.”

“Your reports are always better than mine anyway,” Ed said with a hand wave. “The bastard's more likely to listen to you.”

“Maybe he’d listen to you if you were a little more respectful, Al suggested, getting into the playful jabs as well.

“I’ll be respectful when he’s actually respectable,” Ed snarked, shrugging. He glanced around the formerly crowded square again as they passed through towards the station. “You think there’s going to be any trains coming through tonight?”

Slowing down a bit, Al’s small voice asked, “There’ll have to be, right?”

“Of course there will,” Becca assured him more confidently than she meant to. “It’s not like the train conductors are going to be affected by any of this.”

Thankfully, although the station itself was empty, they’d bought tickets ahead of time and their nighttime train rolled in right on time. They boarded easily and tossed their bags up onto the racks before settling down in two seats facing each other. However, after a few moments, Al declared he was still too wound up to sit still and wait and opted to go for a walk until the train started up again. On the other hand, once she was sitting, Becca felt the entire weight of the day sag down on her shoulders and she sighed heavily, massaging her wrist where a ring of bruises was steadily forming from the guard grabbing her earlier.

“You okay?”

She turned to look at Ed, closed eyed and sinking further into the bench with every second, and forced a smile. “Yeah. Just… tired, I think.”

“Mmm… Me, too.”

She chuckled. “I hadn’t noticed,” she said sarcastically.

He cracked one eye open, his nose wrinkling with the unimpressed look he shot her. “Oh, so eloquent.” He sat up and stretched. “Not at all like your speech earlier. Did you plan that?”

“No,” she said pointedly. “Just something along the lines of what I wish someone would have told me.”

Ed went quiet. “Would it have made a difference?” he asked.

Becca sat up, raising an eyebrow in his direction. “What do you mean?”

“Our teacher- well, I guess she didn’t tell us any more directly than any of the books, but she taught us that life all went one way. It flowed. And we still tried to go against it.” His eyes met hers. “Would you have been desperate enough to still try?” He nodded his head out towards the town and asked, “Will she?”

She had to stop and consider that question, laying her head back on the back of her seat. “I… I don’t know what I would have done. I guess, looking back, I thought it might have stopped me, but hindsight is always perfect, then, isn’t it?” She shrugged bitterly. “As for Rose, it’s like you said. She has to decide that for herself. Maybe with both of our advice, she’ll make better choices.” She frowned. “Speaking of advice, we still have to finish our conversation from earlier.”

He exhaled quietly. “I thought you’d forgotten.”

“You wish ,” she teased, her lips quirking up slightly before she settled back down. “Ed… what did you mean back there? That you’re different than me and Al?” Ed shifted in his seat. Becca’s heart sank as she realized he’d moved away from her. She started to apologize, “Look, if you don’t want to talk about it with me, I-”

“You guys got forced into it.”

It took Becca a few moments before she processed his words. “I can lay off- wait, what?” He flinched away, but she quickly grabbed for his hand and stopped him dead. “No, Ed, hang on, what?”

He refused to meet her eyes. “Your dad made you- you wouldn’t have done it on your own. And Al never wanted to… I made him. If I’d listened to him instead of him listening to me, he would still be… normal.”

Becca blinked. “Ed…”

“I’m the one who should have gotten punished, not him-”

“Al would not-”

“I pushed him, just like your dad pushed you.”

She held up a hand, cutting him off abruptly. “Edward,” she said firmly. “That is not true.” Ed finally looked up as her tone became more serious, though he kept his gaze firmly trained on the seat across from them, avoiding her. She ignored the pang in her chest and kept going. “You are not anything like my father. My father was a selfish, cruel man who thought he knew better and deserved more than everyone else and was willing to murder someone to get it. You were a little kid who made a mistake.”

“But-”

“And-” she continued, not letting him get a word in. “In my father’s mind, he wasn’t making a mistake. He planned to kill me, and he basically killed Louisa, to get this special power that he thought would buy back his position in life. You wanted your mom back, just like Al did. Just like I did. We’ve all made the same mistake. We all want to do our best to rectify it, together.” She scooted slightly closer. “We’re both with you, Ed. Me and Al.”

The car went silent as Ed moved, slowly swivelling to face her. There was something in his eyes, softening the usual impenetrable wall he kept up to almost everyone outside of her and Alphonse. If she weren’t so in control of her poker face, Becca might have been visibly surprised. A vulnerable Edward Elric, after all, was not a common sight.

“Bex, I-”

Suddenly, they were both jolted forward as a whistle screamed through the night air. Ed recovered first, going for his pocket watch and swearing as he got to his feet. “It’s running early,” he said. “Where’s Al?” 

Becca had to lay a hand on his arm to keep him from leaping off the train. “Let’s think this through, we can go talk to the workers and stop the train until he gets here-”

“I’m here!” Al’s large form crashed through the door attaching their car to the others ahead. “I ran into the conductor in town and told him we were here and the only boarders, everything’s fine!”

Ed and Becca each let out a relieved breath before all three of them sagged onto the benches. It didn’t seem like anyone was in the mood for much talking- taking down a power hungry wannabe at the expense of an entire town’s beacon of hope was both physically and emotionally exhausting, Becca decided- and it seemed like her conversation with Ed had come to another forcible halt, but Ed did give her a purposeful look. She smiled gingerly and shifted into the empty space between them, stretching her legs out over where she’d been sitting.

Although she couldn’t see him, Becca could have sworn she felt him exhale into her hair and relax as the train started picking up speed back towards East City.

Notes:

i hope you and your loved ones are staying healthy and safe, and i'll see you in the next update! -c

Chapter 8: brabant

Notes:

hey hey hey my dears!

i'm cutting it a bit short, but i am on schedule! it's super late on thursday for me, so this gives me hope that i'll be able to stick with a biweekly timeline.

i have the next few chapters all planned out, but, tbh, these next couple chapters are going to be rough. i think the nina arc is one of my least favorites in the show, not because it's bad, but i just hate things happening to kids. but luckily there is a light at the end of the tunnel because i am so excited about the upcoming chapter 10/11! i actually wanted y'all's opinions on this, because i am so conflicted: would you guys prefer chapter 10 to be one realllly long chapter, or should i split it into two semi-short chapters. either one is a possibility, but if anyone has any particularly strong feelings, please let me know. i always love hearing from readers, it makes my little heart happy!

on an unrelated note, please register to vote if you're legally able to!

brabant (noun)- the fun of pushing someone's buttons

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Balancing a cup of coffee, a cup of water, and two large covered breakfast plates from the cafe car in her hands and a newspaper from their morning stop in her mouth, Becca hustled down the aisle, feeling one of the plates tipping dangerously.

“Ed, Ed, Ed,” she said urgently.

Ed stood quickly, taking his plate and coffee before anything spilled. He smiled guiltily. “Thanks, Bex.”

“Don’t mention it.” She set her breakfast down next to her seat and dug through the side pocket of her suitcase for a teabag, then touched her hands together to heat up her water. While she let it steep, she criss-crossed her legs once Ed sat down and pulled her plate into her lap. She took off the cover, revealing a simple meal of eggs and a roll of bread. Next to her, Ed dug in, but the headline of the newspaper she’d picked up caught her eye, so she picked up the roll rather half heartedly with one hand while the other went for the paper. “Huh,” she said, setting her food down to flip to the full story. “Someone killed Brigadier General Grand the other night.”

“Grand?” Al asked, glancing up from the book he was reading. “I know that name…”

“Basque Grand, the Iron Blood Alchemist. He’s an Ishvalan war hero,” Becca informed, though she didn’t look up from the story, “and a major powerhouse. My dad admired him.” Her brows furrowed. “I can’t imagine how difficult it would have been to win a fight against him. And, according to this, he’s not the only alchemist who’s been murdered recently. There’s been...” She counted the small list given by the article, “eight other current or former State Alchemists, plus Grand.”

Ed peered curiously over her shoulder at the small print. “How much information have they released?”

“Do they mention any suspects?”

Becca scanned the article quickly.”There’s not much here. Just that it looked like he definitely didn’t go quietly, but there weren't any reports of a commotion.” She hummed, folding the paper back up. “Odd.”

Ed shrugged, going back to his food. “The guy had to have had enemies.” He took a long sip of coffee and pointed out, “Especially if he was in Ishval. We had a few skirmishes near us when we were growing up. It was ugly on both sides.”

“It never really reached Adethal,” Becca said thoughtfully, “but my dad would always talk about any serious attacks.”

Al shook his head. “Hopefully they find out who did it,” he said. “Maybe we can ask the colonel for some more information that they might have not been able to give to the reporters.”

“Ugh, I almost forgot we had to report to the bastard,” Ed groaned. “Do you think he would have sent someone to get us or would he get some sort of sick enjoyment out of making us walk?”

Becca raised an eyebrow in his direction. “I doubt Mustang centers his entire life on trying to make you miserable, Ed.”

“Nope, just the days I’m in town,” Ed said, rolling his eyes. Becca laughed, then glanced up as the train started to slow, the now familiar East City train station coming into view. Ed pressed himself up against the window with Becca peering out by perching atop the train bench above him. Even Al moved to look outside, scanning for the usual military blue. A uniformed figure stood near one of the doors, smoking.

“There’s Lieutenant Havoc,” Al said before Becca could open her mouth.

She didn’t sit down as the train jolted to a stop. Instead, she lost her balance, made a wild grab for her suitcase on the luggage rack, succeeding in pulling it down but simultaneously stumbling back onto the floor onto her ass, earning her a few glares from some solemn looking businessmen. Ed and Al both burst into laughter and she stuck out her tongue at them, but accepted the hand Ed offered once he’d recovered from his giggling fit.

“You try to make things more efficient and this is what you get,” she grumbled good naturedly as he pulled her up.

Ed gave a  few final chuckles, catching hold of his own luggage. “Yeah, sure. You want us to mention why we’re running late to Havoc or you wanna get going?”

“Alright, alright, I don’t see a need for that,” she said quickly. She picked up her suitcase from where it had fallen, following Ed as he hopped off the train. Havoc hadn’t bothered to meet them, so they headed for the exit where Becca could see a small column of smoke rising above the jostling crowd.

Once the crowd parted, all three of them hurried towards Havoc, who raised a hand in greeting, grinning mischievously. “Hey Chief, little lady, Alphonse. It’s good you three are back. It’s been too quiet around headquarters.”

“It’s good to be back,” Becca said.

“It was nice of the colonel to send someone for us,” Al pointed out, nudging his brother, who scoffed derisively.

Havoc laughed, walking towards a standard military parked on the shoulder of the road, the crowd thinning out as they left the station.“Don’t worry, Ed. He didn’t send me, I volunteered. Your hate can go on unimpeded.”

“Good,” Ed said sarcastically as he climbed in the back seat, leaving his bag on the sidewalk. Al quickly slid in next to him and Becca easily followed, throwing both her and Ed’s bags onto the opposite facing seat before climbing in herself. “I would hate being in debt to him for anything.”

---

Havoc was like a fun older brother, smoking out the window and joining in the bantering between Becca and the Elrics. The ride and subsequent walk through Eastern Headquarters felt quick, even with the extra stop at the barracks to drop off their luggage and Ed dragging his feet the closer they got to the office.

“Look who’s back!” Havoc announced, throwing the door open, only to receive a host of glares from the busy military team. The whole group relaxed after a moment and gave the trio a few kind welcomes.

“What are you guys working on?” Ed asked in an uncharacteristically sweet tone, leaning back against one of the spare desks kept in the room in case he or Becca needed to use it.

Fuery piped up, “We’re reviewing old case files-”

Hawkeye gave Ed a stern look, cutting Fuery off with a curt, “Good try, Edward. The colonel is waiting for you two.”

Ed dropped the facade, whining, “But-!”

“Al and I wanted to go straight there-” Becca said defensively.

“Yeah, Brother made us stop-” Al agreed.

“Enough,” she said firmly, pointing to the door to the inner office. “Go, all of you.”

Ed huffed, Becca sighed, and Al chuckled as they made their way to Mustang’s door. Becca saw Lieutenant Hawkeye smile fondly out of the corner of her eye, but Al’s large body blocked her view as he shepherded her and Ed inside.

“About time,” Mustang said, glancing up from his pile of paperwork.

“Aw, is Hawkeye actually making you do your job?” Becca said pointedly, not as openly mocking as Ed would have been, but more casual than she would have been when they first met. 

She didn’t even flinch when he raised his eyebrow at her, the picture of nonchalant arrogance. Instead, she smiled agreeably, tilting her head with a shrug. “Adorable,” Mustang said sarcastically. “Really cute.” He pushed his papers aside. “Honestly, you three were just late.”

“Our train got caught up in New Optain this morning,” Al said.

Mustang waved the excuse off. “No matter.” He leaned back, reclining a bit in his office chair. “Thank you for taking care of the priest.”

“‘S not like we did it for you,” Ed said grumpily, plopping down on one of the couches.

The colonel clicked his tongue. “This Stone was a false lead too?” he assumed.

Ed grunted. “It was at least a convincing fake. It gave Cornello real power. He transmuted this chimera right in front of us, but then… it broke.”

“It was just like the Freezer a few years ago,” Becca asserted, leaning against the side table next to the couch.

“I still don’t understand how he used the stone like that,” Al added, more to Ed than Mustang or Becca.

Becca bit her lip, considering. “I guess it might help if we knew more about bioalchemy. Maybe that could even help with getting your bodies back.”

Ed visibly perked up at that. He crossed one leg across his knee, leaning forward and leering at Mustang. “Bioalchemy, huh?”

“I don’t like that look,” Mustang cut him off, his cool smile somewhat strained.

“Given that we handled the Liore situation-” Ed started. Becca let out a short laugh, but went quiet, smiling demurely at Mustang as Ed continued, “I’d say you owe us.”

“You were there on an order,” Mustang pointed out.

“We did it with significantly less property damage than usual,” Ed retorted.

Mustang sighed heavily, leaning towards him. “If that’s what you consider a favor, then fine, I owe you. I don’t want to be in that position for long. What do you want?”

“Is there anyone around here who does know anything about bioalchemy?” Ed asked excitedly.

Humming thoughtfully, Mustang shuffled a few of his papers around until he found a thin file. “As it happens,” he said, opening the manila envelope and checking a few of the papers before passing it across the desk. Becca, already standing, grabbed it and handed it over to Ed, both her and Al looking over his shoulder. “Shou Tucker, the Sewing Life Alchemist,” Mustang narrated. “Researches and creates chimeras for the state. I could introduce you to him later this afternoon-”

“What?” Ed interrupted indignantly, his head snapping up from the sheaf of papers. “Why not now?” Al went ahead and took the papers and flicked through on his own while Becca laid a calming hand on Ed’s shoulder.

Mustang smirked at the two of them. “Well, you two have been out of town for quite a while. I was thinking we could sit down for tea.”

Ed’s face went red. Becca glanced over at him, then warningly said, “Colonel…”

“We’re a bit busy for tea ,” Ed spat, making Mustang laugh.

“Alright, Fullmetal, don’t have a conniption,” he said as his smirk fell back into place. “Let me finish this stack so Hawkeye doesn’t blow my head off and we can go.”

---

“Two years ago, Tucker earned his certification by transmuting a chimera that could understand human speech,” Mustang said, flicking on his turn signal out of the headquarters parking lot. They’d changed cars from the one they’d taken with Havoc, so Ed and Al had crowded into the backseat, leaving Becca the shotgun side.

“Like it could obey commands?” Becca asked. “I thought that was the point of chimeras in general.”

“More than that,” he said solemnly. “Supposedly, it was actually able to speak- albeit, not exactly like us. It mostly just repeated words and phrases it heard.” He shrugged, then amended, “At least that’s what I thought from reading the initial briefings. I never saw it.”

“Why not?” Ed asked from the back. “They didn’t bring it back to HQ?”

Mustang glanced at him through the rearview. “I didn’t find him like I did you, and I wasn’t high up in the ranks enough to warrant me going to his test at the time. And according to the documents, the chimera only said one thing that wasn’t just repeating something Tucker had told it: ‘I want to die’. Then it wouldn’t eat, and, eventually, it got its wish.”

A chill went down Becca’s spine. A quick look backwards proved she wasn’t the only one unnerved by the story.

“I noticed in the file that- uh- Tucker failed his State Exam last year,” Al said after a few moments of quiet absorption. “I thought that was an automatic expulsion from the program.”

Shrugging, Mustang kept his hard gaze fixed on the road. “Usually it is. The Fuhrer, however, decided that chimeras were apparently a finicky subject and gave Tucker an exemption, provided he passes his upcoming test this year.” He stopped the car outside of a metal gate, glancing out at the large house behind the wall. “This should be the place.”

“Whoa!” Ed exclaimed as they all clambered out of the car. “This place is huge!”

Mustang pushed the gate open, walking ahead of them and detailing, “From what I’ve heard, Tucker’s experiments have been… varied in results, and he lives alone-”

A shadow loomed over the three teens. Becca and Al jumped out of the way, but Ed, in between them, wasn’t so lucky. He shrieked as a huge white dog thumped down on top of him.

“Brother!” Al fretted.

Becca glanced around warily, scooting slightly closer to Mustang, though she wouldn’t admit it. “Apparently your sources were wrong.”

“I don’t think my sources account for canines,” he snarked.

The door creaked open and she looked up to see a middle aged, bespectacled man… and a little girl with braided hair, peering around his leg. Becca’s eyes widened and she turned to the colonel. “I think you need to get better sources.”

“Nina, that dog is supposed to be tied up,” the man said tiredly, then noticed Mustang and immediately straightened up. “Colonel Mustang, sir! I wasn’t aware you were coming by until my assessment day-.”

“Yes, Mr. Tucker, it’s a pleasure.” Mustang extended a hand as Becca knelt down to try and shove the dog off of Ed.

“Alexander, get off of him,” the little girl commanded fondly, running out to tug on the dog’s collar, apparently before she’d actually looked around at all of them. Once she noticed, however, she gasped happily and exclaimed, “Daddy, look at all the visitors!”

Her father, who had barely left the doorway to greet Colonel Mustang, turned to the other three, apparently just noticing them as well. “Nina, take the dog inside and go play upstairs. Daddy has some business to attend to.” Something unpleasant awoke in Becca’s stomach when he didn’t use the dog’s name- presumably Alexander. It’s probably nothing, she told herself, trying to shake the feeling, but there was something off about how Tucker spoke to his daughter that something in her didn’t like.

Mustang held up a hand. “I’m not here for business, more for a personal favor.” He gestured to Ed, Becca, and Al, the latter two trying to help the former brush dog hair off his clothes as Alexander himself sat nearby with his mistress, wagging his tail. “May we come in?”

Tucker blanched. “Of course, of course.” He waved them through the door, the little girl and her dog trotting in behind them, quickly disappearing up the stairs while Tucker walked them through the house. “Sorry about the mess. Things have been… difficult since my wife ran out. Not a lot of time for cleaning.” Becca wrinkled her nose at that particular implication, but she kept her mouth shut, knowing how important this research could prove to be. “Coffee?” the man offered.

“No, thank you,” Becca and Al said politely at the same time that Ed and Mustang both agreed, “Thank you.”

“This is Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist,” Mustang introduced, “and Rebecca Harper, the Illusion Alchemist.” He gestured to Al and said, “And Edward’s brother, Alphonse, of course.”

“A pleasure,” Tucker said while he readied a few cups. “Please, sit, make yourselves comfortable. This will only be a moment.”

Ed, Mustang, and Al took three chairs on one side of the table, leaving the only two remaining chairs on the other side. Becca made a face and opted to instead lean against the dusty wall behind them rather than sit next to Tucker. She’d prefer to observe from afar, keep an eye on Tucker’s interactions with Mustang and the boys,  and try to figure out what was giving her such an awful pit in her stomach. He smiled paternally once he’d sat down. “Once again, it’s nice to meet you three. As I’m sure the colonel told you, my name is Shou Tucker, the Sewing Life Alchemist.”

“Ed has developed an interest in biological alchemy,” Mustang said. “I suggested he, Al, and Becca have a look at your research, if you’ll allow it.”

“Of course, I don’t mind-” She saw Ed and Al share a triumphant look, but Becca doubted any State Alchemist would be giving up their secrets without a little extra incentive. “-However…” There it is. Tucker’s glasses glinted, “If I show you the tricks up my sleeve, I think it’s only fair if I see the tricks up all of yours. That’s what we live for as alchemists, isn’t it? Equivalent exchange? Why do you want to learn to transmute living things?”

Becca stood up a little straighter as Mustang, in a rare showing of anxiety, started, “Now, Mr. Tucker-”

Ed held up a hand. “Colonel, it’s okay. He’s right.”

“Ed, you don’t have to-” Becca protested.

He gave her a firm look over his shoulder, but Tucker just laughed. “And I’d love to hear why you’ve come along with them as well, Miss Harper. Please, sit down with us.”

She narrowed her eyes, then glanced at Ed and knew she’d have to give in. “Fine. But I’m okay standing, thanks.”

---

“So you attempted human transmutation? All of you,when you were so young?” Tucker asked disbelievingly. He was staring at Ed’s newly revealed metal arm, looking horrifyingly amazed. “I suppose that’s where you got your codename.” He hummed, standing up wordlessly. 

“I trust you understand why we can’t risk this getting out,” Mustang said, taking a little control of the situation. “As your commanding officer, I’m asking you to keep this-”

“I can’t promise my research will be of any use to you, but a deal is a deal. Come with me,” Tucker interrupted, opening up a large set of double doors. He shot them an eerie smile over his shoulder. “And of course I’ll keep it low profile. We all have our secrets, don’t we?”

Yeah, well, most of us don’t have secrets that are totally illegal, Becca responded suspiciously in her head. In a cutthroat field where most alchemists she knew of would tattle on them in an instant if it meant getting ahead, especially if they’d just met that day , why would Tucker agree to keep their secret? Leverage to use against them later? The fact that Mustang was his CO and politely ordering him to? Some other secret that could get Tucker himself in trouble-

“Becca, come on,” Ed said impatiently, standing at the door. 

Becca blinked, filing that line of questions away for consideration later. “Sorry,” she said, pushing off the wall. “Coming.”

Tucker lead them through a dark room filled to the brim with cages, tanks, jars- Becca chanced a look around and saw almost any type of container she could think of filled to the brim before her stomach seized and she had to screw her gaze down to the floor rather than focus on the grotesque amalgamations surrounding them.

“This is a bit embarrassing,” Tucker said, too offhandedly to ease Becca. She stood stock still in the middle of the room even as Ed, Al, and Mustang spread out to observe the… creatures. “I’m supposed to be the leading expert on chimeras, but I’m afraid I’ve had some… difficulties with my craft as of late.” Becca forced herself to look up when Tucker laughed , of all things, and waved a hand towards a stack of some sort of rabbit hybrids in cages. “Not for lack of trying, obviously.” Without another word, he kept walking towards another set of double doors. “My library is in here.”

He flicked on a light, revealing shelves upon shelves of books and journals. Ed’s eyes lit up at the treasure trove of information. “Wow! This is amazing!”

“I’m going to be working out here in the lab if you need anything, but otherwise, feel free to look around,” Tucker said.

“We will!”Ed said excitedly, rushing over to one shelf. “I’ll start over here, and Al-”

“I’ll start here,” Al interrupted, apparently having already selected a few books that were worth checking.

Becca spotted one journal with Deconstruction and Combination scrawled onto the spine and decided, “I’ve got something here-”

“Actually,” Mustang cut her off, “Becca, I was hoping that you’d take a quick walk with me after the boys get settled.” He said he had been hoping, but his tone left almost no room for argument. Even so, Ed was quick to meet her eyes and she knew he would argue if she let him know she didn’t want to. She hesitated for a moment, then subtly shook her head. Ed huffed a bit, but he let himself sink down to sit on the floor, opening the book he’d picked with one more slightly questioning glance in her direction, easily becoming engrossed in the material. Al nodded at her before heading off in the opposite direction to gather a few more books.

“Of course, sir,” she said, stepping away from her shelf.

Mustang gave her an approving look. “Boys, I’m going to head back to HQ after speaking with Rebecca. I’ll send someone by later to get you.”

No response.

“They’ve certainly got quite a lot of focus, don’t they?” Tucker asked.

Despite her unfounded dislike of Tucker, Becca couldn’t help but roll her eyes and respond, “You have no idea.”

“Some might even say you’ve gotten your hands on some prodigies, Colonel Mustang.” He turned to Becca and gave her a strange smile. “All three of you.”

---

Fresh air filled her lungs as Becca trailed after Mustang out of the Tucker estate. She stretched her arms up above her head, not having realized how tense she’d become.

“You didn’t like him,” Mustang said, more of a statement than a question.

Becca shrugged. “Doesn’t really matter what I think of him. His research could be helpful. We need to look into it.” She set her jaw and prodded, “But don’t force small talk with me, I’m not one of your nightly dates. Just get to the point.”

He sighed, looking a bit exasperated with her, but moved on. “Have you been able to keep up with your finances?” he asked after a moment. “You haven’t been stretched for funds?”

She looked away. “Yeah. My normal ratio has been fine. It’s always fine.”

“And have you heard from… your mother recently?”

“Why are you tiptoeing around me?” Becca said tiredly. “That’s suspiciously uncharacteristic.”

Mustang hesitated, apparently wrestling with something internally until he admitted, “We’ve had some sightings of your brother in the city since you three have been hanging around here more. I was thinking about sending you home for the time being-”

“What?” she demanded. “No way!”

“Becca-”

“No, I-” Maybe ‘I have to help hunt down my homicidal half-brother’ isn’t the best route for this conversation. “I have to help Ed and Al with Tucker’s research-”

“Well you wouldn’t be doing nothing,” Mustang defended. “Your father’s library is still there, you could easily attempt some codebreaking there, just until we capture him. It wouldn’t be forever, just a temporary reassignment with some military personnel there to watch over you.”

Becca shook her head fervently. “My mother doesn’t want me there. I don’t want to be there. I’m not going.”

“Rebecca, I thought you would be reasonable about this. There’s a reason I wanted to discuss it alone.”

“At least if I’m here, I have Ed and Al, I can fight with them, I don’t need MPs babysitting me-”

He rolled his eyes. “Ah, yes, how could I not trust you three to take him down after you all got your asses kicked last time.” He leveled his stern eyes at her, challenging, “Right now, this is a request from me. Do not make me make it an order from your commanding officer.”

She clenched her jaw, wavering a bit at the underlying threat. “Please, sir. I need to be here . Especially if Will is around.” I need to talk to him, she thought. I can get through to him.

It was a battle of wills that Becca finally won. The colonel huffed, looking frustrated, but amended, “Fine. You can stay-”

She brightened immediately, unable to stop herself from grinning. She caught herself and coughed, then stepped back. “Er- thank you-” She nodded quickly. “Sir.”

“-But,” he continued firmly, “You are not to seek him out or engage with him. Any of you. Can you give me your word that you won’t?”

“Yes, sir, I promise,” she lied. Like hell. I promised to bring him home.

Mustang gave her an appraising look, but seemed to believe the fib and relented. “Alright.” He turned, opening the car door, then, not looking at her, asked, “Have you told Edward and Alphonse about the conditions of your debt yet?” Any affection for the colonel that had flared up after he’d allowed her to stay was immediately quashed and Becca frowned. She shook her head, forgetting that Mustang couldn’t see her. Her silence, however, was enough of an answer for him. She could hear the smirk in his voice when he said, “You know my thoughts on the subject. Your teammates should be aware-”

“-Of every possibility,” Becca finished in unison with him.  “You’re right, I do know. However,” she said emphatically, “it’s not a possibility. It’s not even in the stratosphere of possibility.”

The car revved to life and Mustang slammed the door, rolling the window down to talk to her. “Of course not,” he said, looking doubtful. 

She blinked, looking down at the gutter. “Is Hawkeye going to think that you’re taking too long?” she said quietly.

Mustang checked his watch and swore. “Stay alert, Illusion,” he ordered, rolling the window up.

She raised a hand in farewell as the car peeled away into traffic, groaned, and put her head in her hands for a few moments. Then she took a deep breath, pulled herself together, and turned back to the huge house, which had somehow become even more oppressive after a bit of air. Thankfully, she made it back to the boys without running into Tucker. She kept her head down in the lab, only barely glancing around once she got to the library. She waved at Al and gently nudged Ed with her toe as she passed him to get to the shelf she’d claimed earlier. Strangely, whenever she reached for the handwritten book she’d noticed earlier, Deconstruction and Combination , it was gone. Her lips twisted into a displeased grimace.

Mr. Tucker is probably just using it somewhere else, she rationalized.

But the nagging feeling was back. 

And she couldn’t see it going away until they were out of the estate for good.

---

A few silent hours passed, interrupted by the occasional thump of a book being put down and the scratch notes being taken. Becca had taken up residence in one corner and she hadn’t seen either Elric since she’d walked in, but she figured they’d each staked out their own territories nearby. Sitting up against a bookshelf, she’d read through all the books within her immediate reach, so she was in the process of hauling herself to her feet to peruse the upper shelves when she heard the familiar creaking of Alphonse’s metal joints, along with children’s laughter. She peered curiously around the bookshelf and felt a small smile flit onto her face.

Al had obviously decided to take a study break. He and the little girl, Nina, if Becca remembered correctly, were crawling around on the floor, chasing one another around a large rug. Becca knew that Al was 14, only a few months younger than her, of course, but he rarely looked like it. His large size combined with his general maturity (especially compared to his big brother) made him seem older and yet, right now, she could practically see a young blonde boy playing with Nina. She came around the corner, but didn’t interrupt, content to just lean against the shelf with her arms wrapped around herself and just observe, at least until Al noticed her standing there and yelped, “Becca!”

“Hey,” she greeted teasingly, chuckling at his guilty sounding tone. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to tattle. Mind if I join you?”

The little girl grinned. “You wanna play too?”

Becca pushed off the shelf, stretching her arms over her head. She felt a few pops in her spine and winced. “Definitely. Let me go put a bookmark in my notes and I’ll be right back.”

Back at her study space, she ripped a spare piece of paper for a makeshift bookmark and took a few minutes to restack the piles she’d organized- a tiny stack general notes, a few possibly useful books,  books to hand off to one of the boys when they got a chance, and a much large stack of books to put away- then bit her lip and figured she might as well clean up now. She was in the middle of clearing away the rejects, listening to Nina’s giggles and Al’s playful encouragement, when she heard Ed sputtering.

“Alphonse!” he was saying as she finished putting the books away. “What are you doing?! You’re supposed to be researching!”

Becca noticed the door slowly opening wider, then the large white dog who had crushed Ed earlier sniffed down the aisle in search of his mistress. He paused, ears perking up, when he heard Ed’s voice. Becca had to smother a giggle as the dog lowered himself to the ground, wiggling his tail and growling playfully.

“Nina wanted to play,” Al said defensively.

“We didn’t come here to play! At least Becca is-” The dog leaped forward, squishing Ed once again with ease. “Gah!”

“Aw, Alexander wants to play with you!” Nina cooed.

Becca couldn’t hold in a laugh at that. “Yeah, Ed, you’re just about the size of one of his chew toys.”

“Becca!” he said, his face going red. Alexander licked Ed’s cowlick, which only served to infuriate him more. “Alright, alright, dog, you’ve bested me twice…” he snarled, shoving Alexander off of him. He continued to pant away happily as Ed pointed a finger at him. “I will not lose again! I, Edward Elric, will defeat you!”

Alexander barked happily, his claws skittering over the floor as he made a run for it, pursued by Ed, screaming a war cry, leaving Nina, Al, and Becca to laugh at him.

“You mangy mutt!”

---

Ed chased Alexander for the better part of an hour, but, by the time Havoc arrived to pick them up, he had yet to be able to pin him down. In fact, Alexander was more successful, the afternoon ultimately ending with both he and Nina sitting on Ed’s back. Becca and Al had instead chosen to have a small, tea-party lunch with Nina, then packed up the depressingly few notes they’d decided they wanted to take with them, so they, at least, were ready to go.

“So how’s your research going, chief?” Havoc asked, eyebrows raised.

“We’ve been taking a brief break,” Ed grumbled as he got to his feet.

“You’ve been locked up in here all day,” Tucker pointed out. “Have you found anything useful?” All three of their postures sagged and Tucker smiled sympathetically. “Why don’t you come back tomorrow?”

“You’ll all come back tomorrow?” Nina asked excitedly.

“Yeah, and we can play some more then, okay?” Becca said, offering the little girl a high five, though she held it up too high for her to reach for a few moments and let her jump a few times before lowering her hand with a laugh.

“Yay!” Nina cheered, throwing her arms around Becca’s legs. Becca’s eyes widened as she patted the top of Nina’s head, mentally begging Al for help.

Al snickered, then gently pried her off. “We’ll see you tomorrow, Nina.”

Havoc herded them out the door into the bright afternoon. Nina climbed on top of Alexander and waved at them until they’d loaded into the car. Havoc called something to Tucker over his shoulder, but Becca couldn’t hear him over Ed already planning where they’d be going for dinner. Becca settled into the passenger seat, tossing in her own opinions as Havoc started the car and threw in a few jabs at her and Ed’s meal choices, making both of them squawk indignantly as he pulled away from the estate.

---

That night, they’d decided, collaborating might prove to be a bit more helpful. As such, the next morning found all three of them sitting among piles of books and journals, Becca draped on Ed, her back to his shoulder and the top of her head leaned back into the crook of his neck, a book held up so she could lazily flick through the pages of an old journal, while he was resting his chin on his hand as he read. Al was sitting cross legged nearby, and even Nina had deigned to join them, resting on top of Alexander as she traced her fingers through his fur.

“So you mother left two years ago?” Al asked, sounding confused as to how a mother could do something like that. “Just… up and went?”

“Daddy says she went to go live at her mommy and daddy’s house,” Nina explained, shrugging.

Becca frowned. At least when he mother was absent, she had Louisa and Will to lean on. “Are you… lonely, all by yourself? Just you and your dad in this big house?”

Nina hummed thoughtfully and answered, “Not really. Daddy’s nice, and he takes care of me, and I can play with Alexander!” She giggled, burying her head in Alexander’s neck. Becca smiled softly, but then the little girl suddenly became much more somber, poking just her eyes over Alexander’s body to peek at them. “Lately… Daddy’s been spending more time studying in his lab for his big test coming up. So I guess I have been a little lonely.”

Becca felt Ed tense up under her, and she couldn’t help but wince in sympathy. She’d been eleven when she was left to her own devices. She couldn’t imagine being so little with only a dog for company. And she didn’t know much about Ed’s father- just that he was absent as well as being an advanced alchemist- but she’d be willing to bet he was making similar connections.

“You know what?” he said, standing up slowly. Becca sat up as well and pulled her knees into her chest, looking up at him. He stretched. “My shoulders are so stiff from sitting here all morning.”

“Maybe you should move around some, Brother,” Al suggested.

Ed swivelled his automail arm around in its port. “That’s not a bad idea.” He gestured to Alexander, getting his attention easily. “Come here, mutt. We’re going to go exercise for real this time.”

“You wanna go too, Becca?” Al asked. “We’ve been cooped up inside for the last two days now, so we might as well get some sun.”

“Sure,” Becca agreed, picking up the book she had been trying to get through and offering a hand to Nina. “I’ve been so unfocused today, so it can’t exactly hurt my concentration.”

Nina giggled, grasping Becca’s hand as they all trotted outside, where Ed quickly tossed a stick for Alexander to fetch. However, the dog didn’t seem as interested in the game as he was in terrorizing Ed, and the chase from the day before commenced again. This time, Nina joined in, first running after Alexander as fast as her legs would carry her, and then, when that got too tiring, she climbed onto his back to trail behind Ed. Al and Becca, on the other hand, settled under a tree and Becca opened her book to try and finish the passage she’d been reading, but that peace didn’t last long. It only took a few moments for Ed to transmute his arm into a clawed grabber and flip the chasing around. Becca gasped, putting a hand on her temple.

“God, Ed, please don’t injure the child,” she called.

Ed rolled his eyes, snapping his makeshift weapon at her as he ran past, still laughing with Nina. “I’m gonna catch you!” he taunted, grinning wildly.

Nina jumped from Alexander’s back onto Al’s to escape, scrambling up his arm to his shoulder and sliding down his back and into Becca’s lap, leaving Alexander to turn and jump on top of Ed again. While Al went to rescue Ed, Nina pulled Becca over to a bush covered in white baby’s-breath, tugging her to sit down next to her. “Do you know how to make a flower crown?” she asked innocently.

“No, I never learned,” Becca said, “Do you?”

She nodded eagerly. Becca smiled.

“Can you teach me?”

And so they sat, weaving the little flowers until they had made five crowns of varying sizes. It had taken Becca little while to get the hang of it and hers were noticeably not different from those made by the five year old, but Nina seemed pleased with them just the same and dragged both boys and Alexander over so she could place them on their heads with a small fanfare, pronouncing each of them a prince or princess, and then herself the queen.

The large door creaked open, making all of them look over, Becca’s crown falling over her eyes as she did. She pushed it out of her face to see Shou Tucker, looking exhausted, but smiling the same off-putting smile he often did. Nina cried out delightedly and ran to embrace him.

“It’s good to hear people playing here again,” he said wistfully. “My wife used to keep it lively around here, and now it gets too quiet…”

“It’s no trouble,” Al assured.

“Still,” Tucker said, brushing a hand over Nina’s head. “You’re here for your own work and you’re playing with my daughter. You should stay later tonight. I’ll make dinner with Nina and you three can do a bit more research before we eat.”

Becca glanced at the Elrics. Ed shrugged back and responded, “Alright. Thank you, sir.”

They headed back to the library, managing to take a few more notes before Tucker called them out to eat. That day, the uneasy feeling in Becca’s stomach hadn’t flared up until the moment they were sitting down. Thankfully, Nina sat next to her father, and Al next to her, so she could sit between Ed and Al.

As Becca and Ed dug in, Al tried to keep an easy conversation going. “So Nina mentioned you’ve been getting ready for your assessment,” Al said conversationally. “How are your preparations coming along?”

Tucker paused. “Well… obviously I’m a bit nervous, considering my result last year… it’s important for me to do well.” He looked over at Nina, fully absorbed into her meal. “Before I got certified, our lives were horrible. We used to be so poor, and my wife just couldn’t handle it, so she left us. I- I can’t go back to those days.”

Becca frowned, her fork halfway to her mouth. I? she wondered. Shouldn’t he use we? She looked to the brother again to see if either of them had noticed the slip up, but they all got distracted by Nina’s upbeat voice. “Don’t worry, Daddy! If they tell you no, Alexander and I will just growl at them until they yes!”

Al chuckled warmly. “You tell ‘em, Nina.”

“Yes, of course,” Tucker said quietly. “Thank you, dear.” He perked up, smiling slightly. “Hey, Nina. How about we play together tomorrow? I’ll take a day off of working, okay?”

Her eyes lit up. “Really?” Tucker nodded, and she squealed. “Yay! Alexander, we get to play with Daddy tomorrow!”

Alexander, laying at the foot of Nina’s chair, barked excitedly. Becca forced an encouraging smile and took a quick look outside the window at the city bathed in the orange light of the setting sun, then checked her pocket watch.

“Boys,” she said gently. “I hate to interrupt, but it might be time for us to clean up the library and head back to the barracks.”

Ed leaned over, checking her watch as well, and sighed. “Becca’s right. Can we still come tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Tucker affirmed. “You three are always welcome.”

Becca shot him a tight smile across the table, pushing her chair away. “Thank you for your hospitality.” She stood, followed by the boys. “We’ll see you then.” They made their way to the front door and Becca tilted her head back as they stepped outside. She hummed upon seeing a gray mass of clouds coming over the horizon. “I wonder if it’s going to rain tomorrow.”

Notes:

i hope you and your loved ones are staying safe and healthy, and i'll see you in the next update! -c

Chapter 9: lachesism

Notes:

hey hey hey my dears!

look who's actually early! i need to stay on a schedule, so i'm not early in terms of days but i'm not putting the finishing touches on this chapter at like 11:45 at night for once. i honestly have just been super hyped for the next chapter! it's gonna be a whopper, but i got a head start and i'm so excited about it that i'm hoping that will motivate me to finish it on time.

but anyway here the sad chapter... i'm glad to be done with it tbh because like i said last chapter i hate kid stuff. it just makes me sad :(, but i hope i did a good job portraying it and that nothing is too ooc.

lachesism (noun)- desire to be struck by disaster—to survive a plane crash, to lose everything in a fire, to plunge over a waterfall—which would put a kink in the smooth arc of your life

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Hey, Bex, I just remembered, I wanted to ask about what Colonel Smartass wanted the other day,” Ed said over breakfast.

Taken aback, Becca tried to talk too quickly, subsequently choking and almost coughing up her mouthful of bagel. Ed and Al both gave shouts of alarm as she sputtered, but she waved them off as she finally managed to clear her throat. “Sorry, sorry, I just-” She gave one final cough, then took a deep breath. “I can’t believe I forgot to tell you, listen to this-” Mustang was right about some things; Ed and Al needed to know if there was a possibility of running into Will. “He said that my brother has apparently been back in town.”

“What?”

And he wanted to send me home until they apprehended him,” she continued, eager to share Mustang’s wild idea.

What?

“But you’re still here,” Al said, confused.

“I refused to go,” Becca clarified. “I’m busy helping you guys, obviously, and I want to help with the search if another sighting comes in.”

“Like hell we’d let him send you back there alone,” Ed said, shaking his head. “And he actually thought you’d be safer there?” he asked after a few minutes of disbelieving silence.

“Exactly! I told him, at least here, I’m able to fight with you guys instead of trying to hold my own with a bunch of MPs I’ve never spoken to,” she said. “At that point, I’d basically be by myself if he followed me.” She paused. “Although… Mustang did make me promise to not look for him-” Both brothers made noises of protest and Becca was quick to reassure them, “-and I won’t. I won’t intentionally try to find him. But if he comes after me, I’m not running. I promised Victor and Louisa that I would bring him home. I can’t imagine going home until I’ve at least tried.” She looked over at them, a pleading look in her eyes. “Will you guys help me? If it comes down to it?”

“Of course we will,” Al said earnestly.

“And we can actually fight together this time instead of arguing,” Ed joked.

Becca smiled, chuckling a bit. “Yeah. Maybe we’ll be a little more successful.” She took a long sip of tea and leaned back into her chair as Ed gave her a cheeky grin and dug back into his breakfast. “So what’s the plan for today?”

“What do you mean?” Ed said, mouth full. “We’re going back to the Tuckers.”

She bit her lip doubtfully. “Well, I just meant- you know, Mr. Tucker said he’d be spending the day with Nina. I wouldn’t want to get in the way.”

“Mr. Tucker said we could come,” Al weighed in. “And we’d just be in the library all day.”
“And,” Ed pointed out, “as much as I think we needed the break yesterday, we should take advantage of Nina being busy. We can actually stay focused.”

Although she would gladly take as much time away from the oppressive Tucker estate as was offered, nothing had happened to warrant not going to utilize the extensive library while they could until Mustang sent them out again. She hummed. “I guess you’re right…”

Ed pushed his chair away from the table, followed by Al. “You know it,” he said playfully as he put his plates in the sink for one of them to do when they got back later.

“Give me a second to grab my coat and we can go,” Becca said, pouring the remainder of the tea from her mug and the larger kettle into her flask and standing up as well.

“We’ll get the notes,” Al suggested. 

She nodded and all three of them spread out over the room to collect their things. Becca retrieved her cropped jacket, then crouched to retie her boot and caught sight of her suitcase- or more specifically folded envelope sticking out of the side pocket. It wasn’t like she’d forgotten about the letter since Victor had given her; how could she? Long train rides tended to allow one’s mind to wander, and, sometimes, she couldn’t help herself from thinking about Will. What she would say if she saw him again, what she would do, how she would react. But it hadn’t really seemed like a genuine possibility until now. Subconsciously, she thought, she’d assumed that Will would disappear again. A couple of times, she’d doubted that he’d come back at all. It was only the scar at the base of her throat that proved to her that she hadn’t imagined their last encounter.

Mind made up, she tucked the letter into one of her breast pockets before straightening up. Just in case, she told herself.

“Ready?” Ed asked.

Becca nodded, opening the door for the other two. They managed to make it out of the barracks without having to talk to anyone. Even the soldier at the check in desk was busy flirting with a young delivery girl, barely sparing them a glance as they hustled through the lobby and into the misty morning.

“It stormed last night,” Al observed, stepping in a small puddle left on the ground. “I was surprised you two could both sleep through it. Especially you, Brother. Becca’s used to sleeping through your snoring.” He nudged Ed pointedly, who glared up at him.

Becca laughed at the jab. Ed didn’t usually snore and she and Al knew it from the many nights they had spent awake, chatting long past when Ed had gone to sleep, but it had become a joke between them that Ed wasn’t able to disprove. She craned her head up to the sky and wondered aloud, “Do you think there’ll be any more rain?”

“It’s still cloudy, but I guess it could pass,” Al supposed.

Ed kicked one of the puddles, then smiled widely and leaped forward, landing in a bigger one and splashing both Becca and Al. Becca gasped instinctively at the cold water hitting the shins of her pants and she raised an eyebrow in Ed’s direction. He grinned, spreading his arms challengingly. She cocked her head and said, “Oh, you’re on.”

She jumped forward into a different puddle, soaking Ed’s ankles. He jumped over to her puddle and forced her to skip backwards to avoid the water. Even Al joined in by kicking a large wave of rain water at both of them. Laughter filled the quiet morning as they bounded between puddles, sloshing around as their shoes and the bottoms of their clothes got steadily more soaked, and they moved steadily closer to the Tucker house. For the first time since they’d started going, Becca was too busy enjoying the moment to focus on the dread that had taken up residence in her stomach.

As the trio leaped and dodged each other in the central square of the city, Becca and Ed jumped into the same puddle and wound up nearly nose to nose. They both froze. Their chests heaved and Becca noticed a faint flush of red on Ed’s cheeks. She was sure there was a matching blush on her own face from the exertion. The moment was shattered when Ed chuckled and shoved Becca backwards by her right shoulder. She laughed, stumbling until she caught her balance, and raised her hand in surrender.

“Alright,” she said, still giggling. “You win.”

He grinned pompously, arm sweeping out into a dramatic bow. “As you should have expected, since I am-”

Ed’s grandiose victory speech was cut off by Al swatting him from behind and knocking him face-first into the puddle he’d claimed. He sputtered angrily as Becca burst into another round of giggles.

“Alphonse!” he squawked.

“I won again, Brother!” Al said innocently.

Ed grumbled as he got to his feet, but was quick to flick water off of his face and out of his hair. “Yeah, yeah, okay.” He wagged his finger up at Al, matter of factly stating, “I let you have that one.”

“Sure, Brother,”Al said. Becca could practically hear the eye roll in his voice, which brought up a whole new cycle of bickering from Ed as they kept on their way towards the Tuckers’ house.

Without the excitement pumping through her veins, however, it wasn’t long until  the normal heavy feeling was making Becca want to drag her feet. She couldn’t do so unless she wanted to risk getting left behind, since the Elrics were deep enough in conversation that they might not notice, so she busied herself with trying to rationalize whatever gave her such an irrational urge to bolt in the opposite direction. She couldn’t, even as they approached the darkened front door.

It was obvious they were expected since the door was closed, but unlocked. Inside, on the other hand, felt almost abandoned. The front hallway was dark, and, from what Becca could see as they slowly entered, so were the rest of the rooms. And it was silent. Too silent. It was late enough in the morning that Nina should be awake and chattering away nonstop like she had been throughout the last two days, but they couldn’t hear her voice, nor her or Alexander’s footsteps, or any sign of Tucker either, for that matter.

“Good morning, Mr. Tucker!” Al called, his voice echoing through the home. “Thank you for having us again!” As they walked further in, he tried again. “Mr. Tucker?”

Ed flicked the light switch on. “Nina? You here?” he called. No response. He hummed. “Let’s see if Tucker is in the lab-”

“No!” Becca interrupted, then coughed. She could not- no, would not go back into that lab unless there were no other options. “I- I mean, Tucker said they’d play today, I doubt he’d want Nina playing in his lab. Maybe they’re upstairs?” she suggested weakly.

“Let’s go check,” Al said.

The stairs creaked as they ventured onto the upper floor. Becca was on high alert, her head swivelling at every sound their feet made on the old floorboards, and her eyes flitted around the dark hallway. Al turned the light on this time, illuminating the shadowy hall.

“We’ll go this way,” Ed said, thumbing to the right. “You look down there.”

“I-” Becca considered arguing, not wanting to be alone, but figured she’d already objected to checking the lab and this wasn’t worth risking an actual fight. “Okay.”

“See you in a few minutes,” Al said over his shoulder as they walked down the opposite side of the hallway.

Becca waved, then glanced back at the three doors she had to check. “Okay,” she said again, more to herself than anyone else. “This is fine. Everything is fine. You’re just freaking out over nothing, this is just a misunderstanding on your end-” She continued to babble to herself as she revealed an empty study and an empty bathroom, then approached the final door. Her breath caught upon seeing the small sign taped onto it: Nina + Alexander written in childlike handwriting in rainbow crayon. “Mmmm… I hate this, I hate this,” Becca mumbled, steeling herself. Given that Ed and Al hadn’t shouted for her, this was the last place she could be before they’d be forced to check in that horrible lab. She gingerly reached out and turned the knob, letting a little bit of light into the dark room. She knew there wouldn’t be an answer, but she still called out for, “Nina? Mr. Tucker? Alexander?”

She pushed the door open wider, revealing another empty room and took in the little bedroom, a little melancholy. The bed was messy, a pink blanket thrown haphazardly over pale blue sheets, and toys were strewn about the room. A large folded blanket sat near the bed, covered in dog hair. Hairbands and play jewelry spilled out of a box on the dresser. Becca ran her hand over the top of the dresser absentmindedly until she hit a picture frame. Startled, she drew back, only to sigh, shake her head, and pick up the photo to examine it. In a handmade wooden frame, there was a picture of Mr. Tucker, Nina, Alexander, all looking significantly younger, and a woman who Becca assumed was Nina’s mother with a large, brown dog. Despite herself, Becca smiled softly. Nina looked so tiny, and Alexander was merely a puppy. Even Tucker looked happier, more energetic than she’d seen him. The woman smiled brightly, playfully squishing Nina’s cheeks as she held her, the little girl’s face frozen in a permanent laugh. Becca’s smile faltered a bit. This was when Tucker said they were so desperately poor that Nina’s mother left them? The woman in the picture looked overjoyed. She did not look like she would abandon the child in her arms.

Something is off here, Becca thought, the foreboding feeling swelling once more. Someone is lying.

She set the picture down and set her jaw. Suspicion revived, Becca strode out of the bedroom, only pausing to close Nina’s door gently behind her. Ed and Al looked up from the middle of the hallway. Just by their body language, she could tell they hadn’t found anything either.

“That just leaves the lab, doesn’t it?” she asked quietly. They nodded. She sighed. “Okay.”

---

The laboratory door was left ajar- of course it was- but there wasn’t even a light on inside. Ed gave the door a shove and light from the hallway spilled in. Two figures were crouched on the ground.

“Mr. Tucker,” Al said, sounding relieved.

“You’re home after all,” Ed observed.

Tucker turned to face them, but his movements were too smooth, almost trancelike. Any normal person would have been spooked enough to at least flinch when they first spoke, or maybe even when they first opened the door. “Oh, hello, you three,” he greeted.

Leaning against the doorframe, Becca narrowed her eyes to try and make out the smaller figure on the floor. She felt her stomach lurch. “Is that-?”

“I did it,” Tucker said dreamily. “I finally replicated my original experiment.” He stood up, gesturing them forward, closer to the creature. “It’s a chimera that can speak, come see.”

Ed eagerly stepped forward, with Al close behind, but Becca stayed back, only barely passing the threshold as Tucker bent down to the chimera’s level.

“Listen to me,” he said in a soft but stern voice. He pointed up at Ed and introduced, “That person is Edward,” then to Al, “and Alphonse,” and, finally, he pointed through their legs towards Becca, “and that’s Rebecca.” The creature moved slowly, bending its neck to get a good look at Becca and exposing it’s pale white eyes. A chill went down Becca’s spine as it turned back to Tucker for further instructions. “Repeat those,” Tucker requested.

“Ed…ward,” the chimera mumbled, not looking away from its creator. “Al...phonse. Rebec...ca,” it sounded out.

At the sound of its voice, Ed and Al started to look a bit uneasy as well, and Becca actually felt bile rise in her throat, although Tucker was quick to pat the chimera on the head and praise, “Yes, well done. That was very good.”

“Wow… it can actually… talk,” Ed said, somewhere between awe and fear. He bent down to the creature’s level as well, extending a hand towards its dog-like nose for it to sniff.

“Yes,” Tucker said, clearly pleased. “And I finished just in time. I’m not going to lose my certification.”

The chimera appeared stirred by Ed’s scent, as that started off another round of unsettling, halting repetition. “Ed...ward, Ed...ward,” it said, then, horrifyingly, “Brother… Ed...ward… Big Brother… Ed.”

She heard Ed gasp from where he’d knelt on the floor.

He didn’t mention anything about brothers, Becca thought, taking a shaky breath in as well, How the hell does it know he’s-

“Mr. Tucker,” Ed said suddenly, “when was it that you first got your state certification?”

“I was first certified… two years ago,” Tucker replied. “Why do you ask?”

“And when was it that your wife left?” Ed continued, ignoring his question.

A moment of silence, followed by a reluctant, “That was two years ago too.”

Becca practically felt her heart drop into her gut as she realized the truth. The walk-out mother who looked like anything but in the photo, the timing, how Tucker had seemingly forgotten that he needed his State Alchemist position to take care of his daughter and not just keep living in a mansion during dinner the day before, all the bad feelings Becca had had since arriving, hell, even the other dog in the picture in Nina’s bedroom. It would be so easy to tell her that her mother who’d abandoned her had taken one of the dogs with her. Why did it take her this long to understand?

“Lastly,” Ed said, cutting off her train of thought, his voice quivering in rage. “Where are Nina and Alexander?”

Al’s eyes flew towards Tucker as comprehension hit him as well.

“I do hate perceptive brats like you,” Tucker growled threateningly. And all too suddenly, the world was moving slowly and he was lunging at her, arm outstretched- 

Intuition took over Becca’s body as she lurched away from Tucker, but there didn’t seem to be a need since Ed met him halfway and easily overpowered him, no doubt fueled by rapidly blooming anger and hatred alongside a rush of adrenaline. Before she could blink, Ed had Tucker up against the wall, arm against his throat, and the man had the audacity to still look defiant. The chimera- no, Nina and Alexander - had gotten to their feet, haunches raised.

“Brother!” Al protested, his hand going to rest on Nina and Alexander’s head, clearly trying to calm them down. Becca, as much as she wanted to move, was frozen in shock, her eyes wide and trained on Ed and Tucker and her breathing heavy as she desperately tried to snap herself out of it.

“Of course I figured it out!” Ed said heatedly. “It makes sense! You did it! Why bother trying to teach two animals to speak? There’s only so much you can do with them after all! It’s much easier to start with one that already can, is that right?” He pressed down harder on Tucker’s throat. “First you used your wife, two years ago, and now it’s your own daughter and her dog! That’s your secret for talking chimeras!”

Tucker smiled and was disgustingly earnest as he choked out, “I don’t see what you’re getting so upset over. This is how we as a species must move forward in every field! Human experimentation is always a necessary step- the final step! That’s progression! That’s mankind’s secret- what we have above all other animals! A scientist should understand-”

“No!” Ed snapped. “You won’t get away with something like this- messing around with someone’s life like this! And your own daughter!” he repeated, then demanded, “How dare you?”

“How dare I mess with a person's life?” Tucker rebutted, casting his manic eyes around the room. “You’d know all about that, wouldn’t you? Look at your little team, Fullmetal Alchemist,” he said mockingly. “Your arm and leg, your brother’s body, Rebecca’s father- you’ve all messed with people’s lives, haven’t you?”

“Shut up!” Ed landed a solid punch with his metal fist. Becca swore she heard a crack as Tucker’s glasses flew across the lab, landing near her feet. She forced herself to look down, only to see Ed's furious visage reflected in the glass alongside Tucker’s scratched and quickly bruising one.

“We’re the same, you and me!” Tucker shouted, undeterred by the blood dripping out of his nose. “You’re just like me!”

“We are not like you!” Ed insisted desperately, trembling.

“Oh, but we are. We knew we shouldn’t but the possibility was right there in front of us- we had to try it, we had to try it, even though we knew it was forbidden! Taboo!”

“No!” Ed interrupted, hitting him again. “Not me!” Again. “Not my brother!” Again. “Not Becca!” Again. “Alchemists don’t-!” Again. “Do that-!” Again. Becca winced as she heard and saw at each hit even though Tucker took every single one with barely a sound. She could see Ed unravelling. “I’m not… we’re not… we didn’t-” 

He raised his arm once more, only for it to be caught by Al’s armored gauntlet. “Brother, stop!”

The room went silent except for everyone’s heavy breathing.

“If you keep this up, he’ll die,” Al said quietly. And wasn’t that a grim thought? Tucker had truly gotten under Ed’s skin. She knew he was powerful and he could be intimidating, she’d seen those in action time and time again, but she’d never seen him unstable like this. It was… scary. And she didn’t like seeing her best friend as scary. In fact, she hated it, because she knew it wasn’t who he was. Her Ed would never kill someone, would never even come close if he could help it. But the pure loathing rolling off of him towards Tucker was blinding him. She half thought he was going to fight Al, try to wrestle out of his grip, and she tried to force her feet to move to intercept him if that became the case, knowing that Ed would hate himself once the deed had already been done if he got the chance, until-

Soft footsteps padded over the floor and Nina and Alexander sat down at Tucker’s feet, looking imploringly up at Ed.

“Ed...ward,” they said sorrowfully. “Ed...ward… no hit… Daddy… Daddy… hurt?”

Ed jolted, every muscle in his body visibly tightening before he released his grip, which had shifted from an arm against Tucker’s throat to a fist curled on his collar. The anger drained out of him, replaced by desolation. Finger by finger, he let him go, and Tucker collapsed motionlessly to the ground, his quick breaths the only sign he was still alive. Becca couldn’t help but feel a sick sense of vindication, at least until Nina and Alexander shuffled forward once more, nosing at Tucker’s limp hand.

“Daddy…” they called out once more. “Daddy…”

“Al,” Ed said, suddenly sounding exhausted. “Will you- will you take them out of here? Just out into the hall? Maybe if they can’t see him, they’ll-”

They’ll forget him. They’ll stop asking for him went unspoken, but understood between them all.

“Yeah,” Al said. He bent down and gently scooped Nina and Alexander up, careful to put his body between them and Tucker. “We’ll be outside.” He gave Ed a hard look. “Be careful, Brother.”

“I will,” Ed said softly.

Becca, still frozen with her eyes trained on the glasses, heard Ed’s heavy footsteps coming towards her, but they didn’t fully register until he put a hand on her shoulder. Even then, she hardly moved to acknowledge him. His flesh hand drifted, tracing from her shoulder down her arm until he could take her hand. “Come on, Bex. We- we have to call the colonel. Then we can go back to the dorm.”

She squeezed his hand tightly as Tucker suddenly moved, putting both of them in attack mode again, though he just reached for his pocket. He drew out his silver pocket watch, cradling it in outstretched hands.

”I made it before the deadline, just in time,” he murmured to himself, smiling like a child gazing down at a beloved toy. “I’ll still be a State Alchemist.”

A hot spike of rage shot through Becca’s body as she realized that could have easily been her. If her father had studied a different field of alchemy, who was to say he wouldn’t have used her in more experiments? She wasn’t like Tucker. She was like Nina- another young girl used by her father who only wanted to regain his power and esteem. She stormed forward, kicking Tucker’s cupped hands and sending his watch flying towards the door. She heard it pop open, but ignored it.

“Like hell you’ll still be a State Alchemist!” she snarled, crowding him, blocking him from crawling towards his watch no matter how much he wanted to. “Like hell you’ll keep your damn title, or your damn house, or your damn status! Like hell!” Now that she’d found her voice, she didn’t think she could stop. “People aren’t just pieces in your little game! People aren’t just here for you to use them and discard them when you’re done with them! You were her father, you were supposed to love that little girl! You were supposed to put her life above yours!” She stepped backwards, crushing the watch’s face and inner workings under her boot. Tucker made a pained noise that only incensed her more. She kicked the pieces towards him, watching him scramble around to pick them up. “Think about what you did! To your wife-” Louisa, “to your daughter-” her, “and to yourself! Your legacy is ruined and it’s all your own fault!” Her father. “Think about that!”

Her breaths had quickened and become shallow. She felt a tug on her hand. Ed didn’t tell her to stop, but she knew she needed to get out. It was time for them to leave.

Leaving Tucker on the ground, she let Ed lead her out into the hallway. Al had crouched down, head bowed, as Nina and Alexander kept asking, “Play… now? Play… now?”

Just like Ed earlier, every drop of anything other than despair ceased inside of Becca. Vomit rose in her throat once more, and  this time she couldn’t stop it. She was quick to drop Ed’s hand and rush to a nearby bathroom. She slammed the door behind her and  hit her knees, heaving and retching as her stomach emptied itself into the toilet. Tears pricked at her eyes as she lay there on the floor, mind blank, for a few moments, but she wiped them away as she got to her feet. Staring at herself in the mirror, she sniffed, frantically rubbing at her red rimmed eyes. Nina and Alexander were the ones with the reason to cry. How could she even think about crying now? What right did she have to even think about it?

She heard someone knock on the door and Ed’s gloomy voice. “Bex? Are you okay?” After a few seconds where she didn’t respond, he added, “I called Mustang. He’s on his way with the team.”

“Yeah,” Becca croaked. “I’m- I’m coming.” She opened the bathroom door, but lowered her head rather than meet Ed’s eyes or see Nina and Alexander and Al where they all sat on the floor. “We shouldn’t leave them alone,” she said.

“No,” Ed agreed. “We can sit here and wait.”

Becca only managed to take a few steps before she had to lean against the wall and eventually slid down to rest her forehead against Nina and Alexander’s back. Al was already apologizing to them, and Becca couldn’t find the words to make anything better. Instead, she just pet their fur, hiding her face, and forcing herself to take breath after breath. Taking herself moment by moment until help arrived.

---

As much as she and Ed jabbed at Mustang, Becca thought he was a competent enough leader. She knew he was smart, knew he was calculating, knew he could be cold, but not like this. She leaned against the outside wall of Eastern HQ, stoically watching over the Elrics, crumpled on the top step and listening to the conversation between Hawkeye and Mustang growing louder as they approached the entryway, the door left propped open from the rush to Tucker’s estate.

“If there ever was devil’s work in this world,” Hawkeye had remarked, “I think this has to be it.”

“A devil, huh?” Mustang said. “I don’t know about that. A State Alchemist has to be willing to act and potentially take another’s life when ordered. No questions asked.” The pair came out onto the staircase. Mustang glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, but he ultimately continued past her, striding into the rain and onto the wet landing. “Some would say that Tucker’s actions aren’t actually that different from ours in terms of interfering in others’ lives. We choose our path knowing what we’re doing, what we might have to do.” He stopped, standing on the top step where Ed sat with his head between his knees. “Isn’t that right, Fullmetal?”

No one responded. Anger bubbled up in Becca’s stomach, but it was a tired anger. She didn’t want to fight with Mustang. She just wanted him to leave them alone.

“It’s likely that you’ll come across more cases like this,” Mustang said frankly. “And it’s possible you’ll have to get your hands dirty as well. You won’t make it very long if you shut down every time it happens.”

“We might be called dogs of the military,” Ed fired back, curling up even more around his knees. “Some people even call us devils. But that doesn’t matter. We’re going to get our bodies back and fix our mistakes.” His hands clenched into his bangs, his voice growing more emotional. “Because we know the truth. We’re not devils. We’re not gods either.” He stood up and shouted up to the sky, “We’re humans- just humans!” Becca lowered her head, closing her eyes as Ed relaxed, his head falling backwards, and miserably finished, “We’re just insignificant humans. We couldn’t even save a little girl.”

Becca pushed off the wall,wrapping her arm around Ed’s shoulder, then reached for Al as well, pulling both of them into an embrace as she closed her eyes tightly. Mustang cleared his throat and she looked up.

“You shouldn’t be surprised, in my opinions, Illusion.”

She squeezed her eyes tighter, silent. She wasn’t surprised, when she thought about it. When she looked back on Tucker’s behavior- his words, his actions, his attitude . The horrible feeling he’d given her. She could recognize it now. He perfectly mimicked her father in the months leading up to their transmutation.

“You three need to go home,” Mustang said after a few moments. “Take a few days off. I’ll get in contact with you when I have another lead.”

Becca heard Ed scoff under his breath as Hawkeye and Mustang continued down the steps, presumably to go to the Tucker house along with seemingly the entire staff at headquarters.

“Let’s get out of the rain,” she said, “Come on. You two are all wet. Let’s go back to the dorms,” echoing what he had told her earlier in Tucker’s lab, carefully avoiding calling them “home” like the colonel had. The dorms weren’t home to any of them. Home was… unattainable, at the moment. 

She kept mumbling, coaxing them down the steps, and, before they went too far, she gently tugged Ed’s hood over his head. It probably didn’t do much against the rain, she thought, but maybe it could provide a bit of comfort. They all needed it.

---

Back at the dorm, Ed went straight to his bed against the window, huddling into the scratchy, standard issue blanket. Becca and Al, on the other hand, stood in the doorway. Becca contemplated going to her own bed, cuddling into the mattress, and blocking the world out. But that thought slipped from her head with barely a few moments of consideration. Her heart was still racing, and she knew innately that she couldn’t calm down by just laying there. She needed to do something.

Her eyes fell on their dishes from breakfast. That’ll do.

The lukewarm water barely registered to her, providing no comfort like warm might have, but not shocking her out of her stupor like cold. She scrubbed diligently, washing each dish twice for good measure, and even went ahead and dried them rather than leaving them in the supplied rack. That, she thought bitterly, was how someone could tell she was trying to keep busy. Normally, dishes were an unwanted chore that any of them would shorten by letting them air dry. Once every plate, bowl, and utensil was back in its proper spot, she scanned the room. Ed was still facing away, under his comforter, while Al had silently taken a spot on the sofa against the opposite wall. Staring. Just staring. He looked like a knight of old, watching over his domain. If the domain in question was just a dingy room in the barracks, so be it.

“Mind if I join you?” Becca asked quietly, sliding her jacket off. Al shrugged listlessly. She plopped down next to him and leaned over to rest her head on his armor.

“You should try to get some sleep,” Al said after a few minutes. “It’s been a long day.”

“I don’t want to leave you alone, Al. It’s been a long day for all of us,” Becca protested.

“I’ll be okay,” Al assured. “I’m always okay.”

Ed rolled over from his spot on the bed. Though he didn’t sit up, he was at least still awake. Becca shot a sad smile at him across the room.

“I should have realized,” she said to the air.

“You couldn’t have known,” Al said. “None of us could have known-”

She shook her head slowly. “No, I- Mustang was right. I should have seen the signs that he was going to do something awful. And I did- I did feel it. Like deja vu.” But she’d ignored it. Ignored her gut, and where had that gotten them? Any of them? Nowhere. 

“That asshole had no right to say that to you,” Ed snapped, the first time he’d spoken since he’d shouted at headquarters. “What does he know?” he asked derisively. “We’ll never sink to that level- I’d never-” He stopped, shutting his mouth quickly and rolling back onto his other side.

Becca and Al exchanged a glance. Clearly “he” was affecting Ed deeply, but there were two possibilities as to who “he” was. Becca cleared her throat and hesitantly asked, “The colonel’s level?”

Ed shuddered so hard they could see it across the room, still facing away from then. “No,” he breathed. “ His .”

Tucker’s went unspoken.

All three of them went silent. Al leaned forward and gently insisted, “Of course you wouldn’t, Brother.”

“Mustang- he couldn’t have been serious,” Becca said. “You know he just says things to get under your skin sometimes. He knows your limits. He might be an… ass but he wouldn’t-”

“He said that we knew what we were getting into when we signed up- that all State Alchemists do… but how could we have foreseen anything like this?”

None of them had an answer for that. Ed sighed heavily, curling up again. “I’m going to try and get some sleep. Wake me if anything important happens.” He went silent, though his muscles didn’t relax even as his breathing slowed down. Becca shared another look with Al, then looked away, screwing her gaze down to her lap.

“I assume you know I’m not gonna sleep right now?” she asked rhetorically.

Al nodded slowly. Becca patted his shoulder and stood to grab her needle and thread from her suitcase, along with her jacket. She traced the line of forget-me-nots winding across the shoulders, then down the back panel of tan material, from daffodils to zinnias to rosemary. She threaded the needle, mentally mapping out where another marigold could fit into her growing garden, using her fingers for measurement. Absentmindedly, she started to hum Louisa’s lullaby.

This, this was how she coped. When she didn’t have the words, she could always turn to her flowers. Louisa had taught her about them from birth; their meanings were like a second language to her, their usages as memorized as common medicine, their colors and categories like old friends. Her jacket was a testament to everything she had felt since she’d become a State Alchemist, good and bad. She’d never tried, but she could probably go through and point out every story that went with each specific embroidery. She scoffed to herself, shaking her head.

“Becca?” Al asked when she moved.

“Hm?” She looked up, suddenly snapped out of her reverie.

“You hum that song a lot, like- like when you concentrate,” he observed. He seemed hesitant to bring it up, at least until she gestured encouragingly for him to go on. His armored shoulders eased down and continued, “Brother and I both noticed, but Brother’s too nervous to bring it up since we thought it might have to do with-”

“Louisa,” she finished, smiling softly. She looked away, but made sure to nudge Al playfully so he knew he hadn’t upset her. “Yeah… yeah, that was her song. She would always sing it to Will and I when we were younger, and I… would sometimes sing it when she was sick. But I haven’t since.” She shrugged, her gaze still in her lap as her smile wavered. “I’m just… not ready, I guess. I don’t know.”

“I understand,” Al said reassuringly. “Sometimes, when you and Brother are asleep, I listen to the radio and they play all the older songs since it’s so late. The ones our mom had on records when we were little. Mom’s favorites will come on, and… I can’t always listen to them all the way through. Like you have so many happy memories with it, but they can be overshadowed by the sad ones.”

“Exactly,” Becca agreed, lips quirking back up at once. “You are so wise, Al,” she teased. She remembered hanging out with him in the Hughes’ dining room, asking him if he was always right like he had been then. If anything, their travels had proved that both brothers had more to them than met the eye, Alphonse doubly so, in Becca’s opinion. Ed was a spitfire wrapped up in a rather unassuming package, no matter how much he tried to deny it, and she wouldn’t alter him for the world. But people tended to misjudge Al first on his appearance, then, once they knew him as a young teenager rather than an intimidating man in suit of armor, he surprised them again with his maturity and ability to offer advice for almost any situation, as he had with her since the beginning.

Al rubbed the back of his neck, looking as shy as an armoured helmet could look, and said, “It’s nothing special.”

She learned further into the side of his arm. “Do me a favor, Al?” she requested nonchalantly.

“Sure?”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” she said sternly. “You’re a good person, don’t- don’t forget that, okay?”

He chuckled, wrapping her up into a side hug. “Okay,” he repeated. Becca glanced back down at her jacket, intending to go back to sewing, until Al gently pried it out of her grasp. When she shot him a betrayed look, he sighed. “You should go to sleep too, Becca,” he said again, slightly more insistent than he had before Ed had woken up. “At least try.”

Becca opened her mouth to protest, only to be interrupted by a yawn. She let out a huff of air and stood up, running a hand through her hair. “You’ll be alright?” she checked.

“Of course.”

She rubbed her eyes and kicked off her boots, bundling up as well as she could, still in her street clothes. She heard the rustling of paper as Al pulled out one of his books and closed her eyes. If she laid still enough, she was sure that sleep had to come eventually.

Notes:

i hope you and your loved ones are all staying healthy and safe, and i'll see y'all in the next update! -c

Chapter 10: kuebiko

Notes:

hello my dears!

i totally forgot to say it last time, but happy fall! and happy halloween! i adore this time of year and i'm getting super hyped for my senior pictures in a couple weeks so now it's really becoming real that i'm going to graduate soon enough... whack.

i'm so freaking excited for this chapter. it features the return of one of my faves and took up a whopping 14.5 pages in my google drive and i think it nearly killed my old ass computer from all the times i had to reload and restart the document, but it's actually done the morning of instead of 11:45 at night, which i consider to be an accomplishment.

as always, i hope you guys enjoy the chapter as much as i enjoyed writing it!

kuebiko (noun)- a state of exhaustion inspired by acts of senseless violence

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Sleep didn’t come eventually. 

No matter how physically exhausted she was, Becca found herself unable to sleep for more than short, twenty to thirty minute bursts throughout the night. And the worst part wasn’t just that she couldn’t get any solid sleep, it was more that any sleep she did get was fitful and she somehow jolted awake even more exhausted than she had been after each bout. She

She’d wake up, catch her breath, and check her watch before shifting to try and find a more comfortable position. Whenever she flipped to face Al, he would always acknowledge her, but made no moves to remove her jacket from where he’d stashed it under his leg so she could continue her work, until the sun was just barely peeking through the window and he apparently deemed it acceptable for her to be fully awake. When she rolled over then, he sighed heavily and tossed her jacket over.

“The string and needle are in the pocket,” he said.

“Thank you,” she said earnestly. She did appreciate Al trying to get her to take care of herself, successfully or otherwise. Since she was up for good, she decided, she might as well try to keep at least a little bit of routine and get her daily tea started. She got water on the stove, then settled at the table to wait.

He tilted his head away, bashful. “I don’t mind, Becca.”

Becca crossed her legs, tucking one of them under herself to get a slight boost in height while she threaded the needle with practiced ease. “I know you don’t,” she said, the words slightly muffled as she held it gingerly between her teeth to spread her jacket over her thighs. She hissed when she reached for the wrong end and wound up pricking her finger, but she continued to talk as she shook her hand limply to ease the pain. “Doesn’t mean I shouldn’t thank you.”

They sat in companionable silence, Al going back to reading as Becca started the beginnings of her next marigold. In the few glances she snuck in his direction, Becca was able to deduce that, at least, Al was taking a break from alchemy. From the cover, she could tell he was reading some new fiction novel he’d picked up. That was good. All three of them could get caught up in alchemic theory, but Al was the best at giving the subject an occasional rest, and he probably needed it the most, given how much more he probably took in compared to her and Ed.

“Do you think we’ll stay here for a while?”

Becca looked up at Al, then turned to look over at Ed’s sleeping form. She made a small noise of consideration. “I don’t know… I kind of assumed we’d stay until this whole thing got resolved. We can ask Ed when he wakes up.”

Al stood up slowly, his joints creaking in protest after being mostly still all night. “In that case, I’m going to go make sure that we can still use the room.” His head dipped. “They might need the room for all the people coming in from Central, right? At least Brother could put us up somewhere if they’re expecting to be too full.”

“I see where you’re coming from,” Becca said. “Alright. I’d offer to come with you, but I’d rather not take the risk of burning the place down.” She gestured to the lit stove, making Al laugh.

“Fair enough,” he said. “I’ll be back soon.”

Still smiling fondly, she waved him away. She retreated to the ensuite to get dressed  and settled back down in her seat. The morning was quiet thus far. Becca assumed it was chilly outside, given that no birds were chirping, but she couldn’t hear any rain. She let the minutes drift by as she sketched a marigold onto the fabric with some spare chalk that had fallen out of someone’s bag and started stitching, relishing in the silence.

Of course, it could only last so long.

Within seconds of one another, two sudden sounds pierced through the air. She couldn’t be sure which came first. On one side of the small room, steam poured out of the kettle’s spout. On the other, Ed gasped and shot up in bed. Caught in the middle, part of Becca wanted to stop the kettle’s whining while the other half had to comfort Ed. As a result, she stood up clumsily and tripped over her own feet, striking her knee on the chair, and swore loudly, then winced at her tactlessness.

“Sorry,” she whispered and took the kettle off the stove. “Probably not what you wanted to wake up to.”

Chest heaving, he blinked slowly at her, not saying anything.

“You alright?” she pressed. “Nightmare?”

His face crumpled from looking surprised into something resembling fear (stifled fear, maybe. The kind that one shoved down, hoping no one recognized it in the moment it flashed over their features, flashed in their eyes. The fear you felt when you thought you were too weak, too muddled, and didn’t think you could afford anyone to doubt you) and he drew his metal leg to his chest, letting his hair cover his face as he rested his forehead on his knee.  Becca wished he could be honest with her, but she knew that wasn’t how Ed dealt with things in the daytime. Ever since she’d known him, outbursts of genuine fear, anger, sadness… those were rare in the daylight. Under the cover of darkness, he was sometimes more willing to share, but the mornings? Impossible.

“Do you need anything?” Becca asked, glancing out the window to make sure it wasn’t raining and only seeing a cloud of mist obscuring the view. “Your ports hurt?”

He shook his head.

“Okay,” she said, then, quieter, repeated, “okay.”

“Bex?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you just- just keep talking?”

Her breath caught in her throat, but he still wasn’t looking at her, so she opted to give him his space. “Of course,” she said, pouring herself a mug of hot water and dunking a tea bag into it, buying herself a few moments to think of something to ramble about. “Did I ever get around to telling you how I passed my exam? I know I told Al, but you might have been asleep. Everyone knows how you did it, obviously, so I couldn’t just attack the Fuhrer again , plus Mustang kind of put me on the spot. I ended up just sneaking a thermometer in and transmuting the mercury behind my back...”

---

Luckily, Ed had managed to unwind from himself and was in the middle of tying his hair into its usual braid by the time Al returned, letting them know that the room would stay available if they needed it. Once that rather one sided conversation was done, however, he and Becca both deferred to Ed, who was staring absentmindedly out the window.

“Ed?” Becca asked, making him jump. “What’s the plan?”

Pain flitted across his face. He hesitated. “We- we’ve got to go to headquarters,” he said after a few seconds. “Figure out what’s going on.” He regarded her pointedly. “But first, we need to eat. You- we ,” he amended, knowing she hated being singled out, “haven’t eaten since breakfast yesterday.”

Becca’s face fell. “I’m not hungry.”

“Becca, come on-”

“No, you’re right, we need to go ask Mustang what’s going to happen-”

“Al,” Ed turned on his brother, “Back me up.”

“Alphonse,” Becca stressed pleadingly.

The younger boy glanced between them, uncertain, before edging slightly closer to Ed’s bed. “You should have breakfast,” he agreed, then added, “both of you,” careful with his wording as well.

Becca attempted to stare each of them down, her jaw set firmly, but neither gave in and she eventually crumbled. “Fine,” she muttered. Ed cracked a tiny, triumphant smile, and pulled himself out of bed, rubbing the port of his automail leg. It must have still been sore from the rain yesterday, and the chill that apparently persisted into the morning. He made his way to the bathroom with his clothes as Becca set her sights on a box of dry cereal, pouring two bowls and leaving one on the counter for when he was done.

Already, she could hear the rest of the barracks occupants beginning their sleepy morning routines. Soldiers bustled past in the hallway outside their door, and she could hear the usual boyish humor being tossed around. Inappropriate, Becca thought, for what felt like a day of mourning. She almost wanted to shout at the men passing by, demand what was wrong with them to be able to carry on joking and laughing as if a little girl’s life hadn’t been destroyed, but shook her head almost as soon as the thought crossed her mind.

It’s possible you’ll have to get your hands dirty as well. You won’t make it very long if you shut down every time it happens.

She wondered who had taught Mustang that lesson.

She wondered if it was the same person who’d taught it to her.

---

Headquarters, however, was just as bland as ever. 

It was actually strangely comforting.

Contrasting how they’d left the barracks yesterday, Becca and the boys had barely spoken a word between them while they’d trudged through the city, up the stairs, and deeper and deeper into the building to Team Mustang’s office bordering the inner courtyard. They stood stock still in front of the door until Ed sighed and reached for the brass knocker.

Of course, because their timing could never be exactly right, the door opened right before Ed knocked.

“What are you three doing here?” Lieutenant Hawkeye asked. “It’s still awfully early.”

Ed flinched. “We, uh-” he mumbled, then hesitantly said, “We wanted to know what was going to happen to the Tuckers...”

A small noise of surprise slipped out of Hawkeye’s mouth before she could stop herself like she normally would. Trying to recover, her expression steeled and she responded, “Mr. Tucker was supposed to be stripped of his title and be transferred to Central to stand trial for his actions.” She shifted minutely, looking away from them as she continued, “But they’re both dead.”

Becca froze. Ed’s jaw dropped. Al choked out, “Dead?”

“I’m not going to lie to you, not when you’ll find out anyway soon enough,” Hawkeye said, her tone ever so slightly more gentle than usual, but still business-like as she started to walk down the hall. “They were murdered.”

“They- how?” Becca trailed off.

Ed jogged to catch up with the lieutenant, Al only a few steps behind. “By who?” he demanded.

“We don’t know,” Hawkeye said. “I was just stopping by for some paperwork the colonel forgot before heading to the scene.”

“We want to come,” Al said at once.

“No.” Hawkeye said shortly, her voice shifting back into its normal firm patterns.

“Why not?” Ed interjected.

The lieutenant stopped, stopping both boys on the tracks with a stern look over her shoulder. Her eyes flicked towards Becca, who was still paralyzed in shock near the office door. “You don’t need to see this,” she said resolutely.

With that, she hurried away, leaving Edward and Alphonse in the dust as they processed her words as well. Becca’s hands curled into fists, nails digging into her palms, as she staggered backwards. She forced herself to swallow and saw Ed open his mouth to say something, but the blood rushing through her ears drowned out any sound he made. She knew it was always uncomfortably warm inside headquarters, but chills were crawling down her spine. Her chest heaved, but she couldn’t take a breath. The hallway was suffocating. She had to get out.

“I- I need to go for a walk,” she forced, aware of how strangled she sounded, but unable to do anything else.

She turned on her heel and bolted.

Apparently that was exactly the stimulation she needed, since, once she’d burst through the door and into the light rain, her ears and her lungs were suddenly working in full force again. The rush of oxygen, the sound of her own heavy, uneven footfalls, and the cold water hitting her skin all spurred her on. If anything, they made her run faster. She didn’t know if the Elrics had followed, but she had a feeling they understood she needed some space. At least she hoped so. She hated them seeing her like this and had made a conscious effort to keep her emotions in check after she’d run away and the MacDougal incident. Breaking down yesterday was enough for the foreseeable future, thank you very much. 

Left, right, another left.

She just needed to get away and calm down, she told herself.

Straight, right. 

And then she would meet them back at HQ, or maybe the dorms.

Left, left, straight, left.

They’d pull themselves together like they always did.

Unfortunately, Becca would say she was used to disappointment. She couldn’t count how many times she’d been let down throughout her life, but this was different. She hadn’t made the mistake she always made in the past. She hadn’t trusted Tucker like she’d trusted that Cornello’s stone was the real deal, or trusted that Will was going to come back to her, inherently trusted her parents to have her best interests at heart for so many years, or trusted herself , that she could make them proud. So the buzzing pain in her heart, head, and gut couldn’t be disappointment, could it?

Right, straight, left.

Tucker probably knew she didn’t like him. She didn’t think she’d been very secretive about it. Could it be guilt? That maybe, somehow, their presence had pushed Tucker to the edge? Or, God forbid, something they’d done had given him the idea?

Right.

No, no, she told herself. He’d already done it once before.

Left, too many people, backpedal, straight.

What if she was just trying to rationalize it to quell the regret?

Right, left.

God, she hated him-

Left.

Hate, she realized. That was it. Hatred was coursing through her body, though she couldn’t tell if it was directed at Tucker or herself.

Straight, straight.

She didn’t think she’d ever truly hated someone before. Before, for the others, there was some twisted sort of love that still remained under the surface. Whether or not they deserved it was questionable, but there were still some fond memories, albeit very few. Every time Will had comforted her after one of their father’s blowouts, or answered one of her thousands of questions about alchemy. Playing dress up with her mother, draped in her inherited pearls. When her father took her to visit the military academy and sat her in class with the soldiers in training to show her off.

Nina must have had similar memories with her father. Hell, she probably had more. After all, from what she had said, before he’d been certified, Becca had assumed he’d been a good man, even if they were poorer.

Left, straight, left.

So had her own father. Not in the time that she’d known him, but she’d seen photos from his and Louisa’s wedding and the years following- moving into their house, Will’s birth, his first few birthdays- not unlike the one on Nina’s dresser. And then he became a State Alchemist.

Right, left.

Was it the certification? That was the common denominator after all.

Left, straight, right, right.

Would it happen to Ed?’

Straight, right, left.

Would it happen to her?

Right.

Vaguely, she realized she didn’t recognize her surroundings. All of Easy City kind of looked the same from her point of view, arguably uniform compared to the streets of Adethal, but even Becca was able to pick out some of the major landmarks, or note government buildings. The alleys she was running down, however, were totally unfamiliar.

Left, left, stop.

She stumbled backwards as she hit a warm surface. An apology was on the tip of her tongue when her eyes met a familiar pair of surprised baby blues and a strangled gasp took its place, tumbling out before she could stop it.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Will said, his mouth curling up into a smirk. “Little sister?”

“Will, I-” she breathed faintly, then lurched backwards as he leapt forward. All too suddenly, she was grounded again, thrown out of her thoughts and urgently aware of her surroundings. She stumbled and lost ground again when Will advanced quicker than she could clear her mind. She returned one of his missed blows with a messy swing back, forcing him to give her a bit of space. “How are you here? Why are you here? You’ll be captured!”

“I’ve made some alliances,” Will said. “Turns out I’m not the only one who has problems with how the military runs things. There are some Ishvalans who were very sympathetic towards my… disdain for the state.”

Becca dodged one hit, but failed to see the second one coming and got knocked backwards. “They’ve been searching for you since… since last time,” she panted. “Where the hell did you hide?”

“Oh, sure, let me just spill all my secrets, so you can go tell dear old Fuhrer Bradley and have him bring me in?” he said derisively. “And put the people who took me in and actually worried about me when I’d come here in danger? Hell no!”

“I’m not asking for anyone but myself! I wouldn’t tell, you know that,” she insisted, blocking his fist with her forearm and grabbing his other hand when it came up to strike her, then shoving him backwards. “I've just been worried about you, after all! You disappeared!”

“Yeah, right, like you worried about me so much when you were back at home, living with my parents !”

“We were! I- I did! I have someone else’s word, just-” Becca held out a hand to keep him at bay as her hand flew to her pocket, “-just let me find it!”

“I don’t want to hear it!” Will snapped, surging forward. He clapped his hands and, for the first time, Becca noticed the rings that had caused the scar on her throat as they extended into the same claws from last time. Becca shrieked, scurrying down the alley the same way she’d come to avoid the sharpened talons, when she finally found what she was looking for.

“Here!” She brandished the letter in front of her. “It’s from Victor-”

She got out of the way of one kick and intercepted the following punch, twisting Will’s arm behind him, but he was quick to loop his leg around her and try to knock her off balance. They grappled for a few moments until Becca lost her footing and they both tumbled to the ground. Becca let go, rolling away into a crouch and stuffing the letter back into her jacket pocket. Will leapt to his feet and was quick to leap onto her again.

All civilized rules of fighting went out the window. Will wasn’t pulling any punches, and Becca knew she couldn’t afford to either. They rolled back and forth in the alleyway, splashing through puddles of rainwater, as they struggled. Becca quickly closed her eyes against the dirty water, but during the few moments she forced her eyes open, she noticed Will’s wet, loose hair. It had gotten long in the years he’d been missing, like hers had after her father’s death, but he hadn’t bothered tying it up. That was only an advantage for her. She briefly considered trying to escape again, but when he pressed his arm up against her neck and she was almost sent spiralling through her memories back into their first meeting, she instinctively reached up and buried her hand in his hair. 

Even wet, she was able to get a firm grip, and she gave a hard tug, snapping her brother’s head to the side. Another good yank sent him spinning away from her and she was able to take an actual defensive stance. Once Will had regained his bearings, he sank into a more offensive position, but he didn’t charge right back into the fight. Each of them giving the other a wary look, they circled, carefully not breaking eye contact, until-

Will ran out of patience and pounced, and they were entangled in the dance once more. Becca was matching him blow for blow, weaving and dodging around Will’s fists as she struck only when she knew she wouldn’t miss. He’d always had more brute strength than her and frankly could and probably would outmatch her in skill, but she could strategize and outlast him.

“You’ve gotten faster, sister,” Will said mockingly.

“I’ve had some good sparring partners,” she replied, twisting out of the way of a swipe to her chest.

He fought the same way he always did when they were younger- like he didn’t want to. Like he wanted to just get it over with. She’d never been able to win against that because he was so willing to put everything on the line so early out. But now she didn’t need to win. She just needed to tire him out enough that she could escape. When one swing came a bit too close for comfort, she stepped away and was suddenly acutely aware of just how small the alley was.

Trying to buy time, she leapt on something he’d confessed to earlier in their interaction. “You said you came here sometimes. Why, if you knew you’d be putting yourself in danger?”

He smirked, edging ever closer. “Why, I’d hoped we would cross paths some time,” he explained, voice dripping with faux sweetness. “I wanted to catch up without Fullmetal and his brother around.” His eyes glinted. “You know, you haven’t been outside an apartment in the city without one  of them in over a year and a half? Not even a walk by yourself. You never were the independent type.”

Her blood went cold. “You’ve been watching me?”

“Oh, she finally caught on!” he said, rolling his eyes. “Obviously!”

“Why?” she demanded. “You could have just run! Clearly, you have a space somewhere else, why didn’t you just stay there, where you’re safe?”

“Because I don’t want to be safe!” Will advanced and she backed off again. “I’m not the one who should be exiled!” He took another step. “You’re the bastard child!” Another. “You took everything from me!” Another. “And I’m going to make you pay!”

She braced herself against the corner he’d backed her into, flush against the wall. “I didn’t- I never meant to-”

“I’m not going to just sit by and watch you get all the glory,” Will growled, drawing closer and closer until they were practically nose to nose. Grime had fully saturated his light blue shirt, turning it dingy gray, and his bangs had fallen over his eyes, droplets of water snaking through them and steadily dripping down onto the pavement. She was sure she was soaked as well, probably even more so from her sprint, not to mention how much mud must be caking her body from rolling around.

Becca tried to formulate a plan, but she couldn’t see a way out of this. Trapped between two walls and a murderous alchemist with a grudge, she raised a hand and attempted to shove him away from her, but he’d been expecting it and grabbed her by the arm, using it to hold her still even as she struggled to get free. She squeezed her eyes shut and hoped- maybe this had all been a dream. Maybe she’d wake up in bed at the dorm, miserable about Tucker’s misdeeds but still alive and fighting. Or maybe that had been a dream too. Maybe Nina was still alive and well, and Becca was just a psychologist’s dream patient for what her unconscious mind was coming up with.

“Sorry, Rebecca,” Will crooned, the first time he’d said her name since the night they’d said goodbye. “I can’t make it personal this time around. But come on, this State Alchemist killer couldn’t have come at a better time, am I right?”

She could feel the golden claws brushing her skin when the ground shook beneath them. Becca’s eyes flew open just in time to see an explosion laced with pale blue electric pulses erupt from the direction of Eastern Headquarters.

Some soldier in the street called out, “Attack on the command center!”

Will’s words echoed through her head. State Alchemist killer.

Basque Grand.

Shou Tucker and Nina.

Ed and Al.

“Oh, no…” she breathed.

Becca drove her knee up and caught Will in the gut, forcing him to keel over and stumble away from her. Not pausing to revel in her short lived victory, she bolted down the alley, trying desperately to remember which turns she’d taken on her run, even as she heard Will’s footsteps picking up behind her. She tore through the city, barrelled around the odd passerby, and could even see a destroyed staircase and a ripped up green, dragon-emblazoned Amestrian flag in the distance when she felt an iron grip wind around her wrist. Pain exploded through her left arm and she cried out, only to be cut off by Will’s other hand covering her mouth. He tried to pull her backwards, but she swivelled around, swinging her free hand. There was a snap when her fist made contact with Will’s nose.

If nothing else, Becca had to admit that Will was resilient. He still had a tight grip on her as blood dripped from his now-crooked nose and no amount of frantic tugging on her end could get her free. It felt like she was putting all her energy into just keeping her feet planted and not being dragged back into the depths of the city.

Shouting broke through the sound of rain hitting the pavement. Familiar shouting. Becca recognized Al urging his brother to follow him and another crackle of alchemy and she fought even harder to escape Will’s grip, but it wasn’t until another explosion rocked the city that she actually thought she might start to cry.

With her free hand, she grabbed onto Will’s hand over her mouth and jostled with him until she’d gotten it off.

“Let go of me!” she snarled. “Ed and Al need help!”

“You are not escaping this again!” Will growled.

A few streets over, in the stuffy quiet of the rain, Becca could hear metal shattering and hitting the ground. Something inside of her broke. She kept pulling, but she couldn’t stop a tear from falling or her voice from cracking as she desperately pleaded, “Please…”

The frantic tug of war paused. Becca, unwillingly, went a little limp, sure Will was going to drag her backwards.

Becca was dropped to her knees.

Her heart seemed to drop even further, down into the ground. Stunned, she propped herself up on her uninjured wrist and twisted to look up at Will, who was decidedly doing just the opposite.

“Go.”

Her mouth fell open. “...What?”

Will’s face twisted into an ugly grimace and he stepped back, holding his hands to his chest. “I said, go!” he snapped. “Go… go help those brothers! Now! Before I change my mind!”

She pushed herself to her feet, cradling her wrist. She took a few hesitant steps onto the main road, not breaking eye contact with him, before turning tail and starting to run in the direction of the explosions.

“Dammit!” she heard Ed swear, evidently frustrated. A deep voice responded, but Becca wasn’t quite close enough to make out what he was saying. A bright flash of transmutation and the scraping of metal against the pavement pinpointed their presence and she actually had to dash through another alley to the next street over, skidding to a stop just in time to see a second flash of blue lightning spiking from a dark-skinned man’s arm over Ed’s automail. She froze in place as, seemingly in slow motion, the limb shattered, and she was only shook out of her shocked state when the pieces clattered to the ground.

A fearful noise rose in Becca’s throat, but the attacker didn’t seem to know she was there yet, and that was probably an advantage she shouldn’t throw away. Ed, collapsed on the ground, wasn’t facing her, and even Al was too focused on the confrontation to discern her footsteps from the rain. Logically, she knew she could go for help. Hell, that might even be the smarter choice. But she couldn’t make herself run. She refused to take the risk of allowing something to happen- someone to die- because she wasn’t there to stop it.

“Now you cannot use your heretic’s alchemy,” the man said lowly, stepping out into the street. Ed tried to back up and the attacker kept moving forward, only to stop after a few steps when Ed fumbled with his missing arm and crumpled fully, falling onto his side with a small thump.

Curled in on himself on the ground, Ed looked very small. Since she’d known him, Becca had never thought of him like that. How could she? With such a big personality, even in his moments of weakness, Ed always acted like grown up. But in the end, he was just a teenager. Just a kid, really. They all were ultimately kids, kids who were now facing down an alleged serial killer.

“I’ll give you a moment to pray to God,” the man allowed.

“There isn’t any God I want to pray to,” Ed argued weakly.

Al clawed his forward, reaching desperately for the man’s ankle in an attempt to stop him.“Brother, get out of the way!” he called frantically. “Brother!”

Ed’s voice rose over his brother’s, protectively trying to keep the man’s attention on him. “Am I the only one you’re after? Or are you going to hurt my brother too?”

What was he talking about?

“If anyone  interferes, I will eliminate them,” the man said, glancing around warningly at the pedestrians lingering on the street out of the corner of his eye. “But you are the only one receiving judgement today, Fullmetal Alchemist.”

“I want your word,” Ed said, pushing up from his side onto his hip, “that you’ll leave Al alone- that you won’t hurt my brother!”

“I can agree to that,” the man said, his voice almost gentle.

“Brother, no…” Al whimpered, pulling himself even further out into the street. “What are you doing? Brother-!”

She couldn’t take the pain in his voice anymore. Becca touched her hands together, the familiar spark of alchemy running through her body to form a stone staff out of one of the walls nearby. She tried to creep out of the alleyway, but she made it only a few feet before she stepped a little too firmly into a puddle and winced. The man’s eyes snapped up to meet hers. She halted at once, holding her weapon defensively.

“Who-”

She didn’t wait for him to finish, just rushed him while she still had him off guard. She let out a battle cry as she brought the staff down towards the man’s head. He grunted, leaping backwards and driving his feet into the pavement, successfully dodging her strike, though she was quick to swing back up and attempt another hit. That time, however, she was less lucky. The man grabbed the end of her staff and energy crackled through it. Becca cried out, her hands scalded. Before she could react, the man had grabbed her with his other hand and easily flipped her over his shoulder into a wall near the opposite alley. The bulk of her body made contact first and her head jerked backwards and her vision swam as she tumbled to the ground. Barely, she heard someone call her name, and she managed to pry her eyes open to see black boots pacing in front of her. The man was saying something, his deep voice clearly pleased as he bent over to pick something up: a silver pocket watch. Her heart rate spiked with panic and she reached for her pocket, pushing through the pain clouding her head, and couldn’t feel her watch in its usual spot. Vaguely, she realized it must have been knocked loose when she’d hit the wall.

“Another child,” the man said pensively. “Unfortunate, but I do what must be done in the name of God.” He dropped the watch next to her and she flinched.

“Hey!” Ed shouted, sounding desperate. “I’m over here! Leave her alone!”

Satisfied that she wasn’t going anywhere, the man stepped over her, back towards Ed. He turned to her and promised, “You, Illusion, will be dealt with next.”

Becca forced herself up onto her elbows, army crawling towards the man and Ed, but she didn’t make it. She couldn’t make it. Instead, she reached for Al, gripping his armored hand tightly when she felt it in her palm.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered to him, horrified, but unable to look away as the murderer reached almost reverently to set a hand on Ed’s wet golden hair. “It’ll be okay,” she reassured, “You’ll be alright.”

“Not without you two!” Al protested, then yelled at the man, his voice rising in desperation with each word, “Brother! Run! Get out of here! Leave him alone! Stop! Stop it!

Shots fired. Becca’s head jerked up, but that only served to make her head spin her and she had to put her head back down, shutting her eyes against the waves of nausea.

“That’s enough, Scar,” Mustang’s voice rang out. Slower this time, Becca raised her head, still blinking away the remnants of motion sickness, and took in the half circle of blue uniformed soldiers that had fanned out on the other end of the street. Mustang had fired the warning shots- his gun was still up in the air. “You’re not killing anyone else today. I’m taking you into custody and you are going to answer for the deaths of at least ten State Alchemists, including Basque Grand and Shou Tucker.”

Her eyes travelled down the line of soldiers; Mustang’s team she recognized easily- Hawkeye, Havoc, Breda, Fuery, Falman- but why were they all so still? Why weren’t they doing anything?

But then she turned to Ed, still huddled in the street, with the man’s- Scar’s- hand only inches above him. Still in danger. Still in very clear danger. She understood. They had to get him away from Ed before they could even get close to him. The man seemed to realize that in the same moment, given that he addressed Mustang only while standing over Ed. “Alchemists,” he said the word like it burned, “alter things from their natural form. Transform them into something grotesque. They turn their backs on God, the true creator of all things. As His agent, I am merely handing down His judgement.”

“Yeah, that’s what I don’t understand,” Mustang said. “There are plenty of lower level alchemists all over the country. Why only go after those who work for the State?” He smirked. “I’d assume that only makes your job harder.”

“That matters not,” the man said firmly. “If you intervene, you will be eliminated as well.”

Ed twitched on the ground, his flesh arm moving slightly to shield his head as he tried to glare up at their attacker for his nonanswer. Scar’s piercing gaze swivelled back to him.

Please don’t move, Becca thought, focusing all her energy on mentally willing Ed to stay still. He’ll kill you if he thinks he get away with it. Please, please, just wait until he takes a few steps.

“Oh, really?” Mustang asked, raising a cocky eyebrow. He put his gun down and handed it off to Hawkeye, who fumbled with it slightly as she had to withdraw her own weapon, then smirked and tugged his glove further down his wrist. “You all stay out of this,” he ordered his men firmly.

“Sir-!” Hawkeye protested.

The colonel waved her off, pushing his wet hair back against the rain.

Becca’s eyes widened. Rain. Wet hair.

“Colonel Mustang!” she objected weakly.

“Mustang?” Scar said, barely sparing her a glimpse over his shoulder as a pointy smile spread across his face. “Of course, the Flame Alchemist.” Becca couldn’t stop a breath of relief from escaping as the man finally stepped away from where he’d been straddling Ed towards the advancing colonel, though she knew Mustang didn’t stand a chance against Scar during a rainstorm. He had his team watching his back. She knew he’d be fine as Scar’s speed picked up.  “Coming forward to voluntarily receive judgement? That makes this a truly auspicious day!”

When Scar started to run, Hawkeye did too.

“You know who I am and you still want to challenge me?” Mustang said confidently, striding ever closer. “If that’s the case, you’re even more a fool than you seem!” He drew his hand back to snap and-

-And was promptly knocked off his feet via a swift kick to the ankle from Hawkeye as she slid under him, using her momentum to stand and start firing with both her and Mustang’s guns. Scar retreated, dancing between bullets.

“Hawkeye!” Mustang whined, holding his ankle on the ground as Scar managed to get behind a corner. “What the hell was that for?”

“You know you’re useless when it’s raining, sir,” Hawkeye said coolly. “Please stay back for your own safety.”

Even in battle Havoc had to get a jab in, poking Mustang with his foot as he teased, “Yeah, I guess it would be difficult to get a spark going right now, huh, sir?”

“So you can’t use your blasphemous flames,” Scar said from his spot around the corner. “How fortunate.” He stepped out into the open again, baring his teeth. “For today, I am going to destroy all who interfere with my mission, here and now!”

A shadow loomed up from the other end of the alley Scar had ducked into. “I’d like to see you try!” Alex Louis Armstrong crowed.

Scar jolted out of the way, grunting something under his breath. Becca just let herself relax. Armstrong was here. They had a chance.

Soldiers crowded around Ed, obscuring him from view as soon as Scar was safely distracted. Becca’s gaze roamed as Scar and Armstrong each leapt into combat, landing on where Mustang and Hawkeye had crouched next to a portable sniping rifle stand. Her muscles protested, but she hauled herself up to her hands and knees. Al tightened his grip on her hand and she had to placate him with quiet words of reassurance before he let go.

“It’s alright,” she mumbled. “It’ll be okay. I’m gonna go help and see if I can’t get a look at Ed. It’s okay.”

“Be careful, Becca,” Al said, voice quivering.

Spurred on, she got herself to her feet and shoved through the pain fogging her head in order to teeter across the street, dodging projectiles and barely avoiding being speared by a pointed bit of rock formed during one of Armstrong’s attacks.

“Watch it, Armstrong!” Havoc snapped from next to Ed. “We’d like to avoid destroying the city!”

Becca forced herself to block Amrstrong out as he shouted a response, then presumably ripped his shirt off, given that she saw it flutter to the ground a few feet away. Her head was pounding and focusing on too many things surely wouldn’t help. She kept going until she hit her knees next to Mustang and Hawkeye. Mustang had frozen, stunned, but Becca couldn’t afford to focus on him right now.

“Rebecca-” Hawkeye said.

“I can do this,” she interrupted, taking the half constructed tripod and its remaining parts with shaky hands. “Get your gun ready.”

The lieutenant opened her mouth, then stopped, and nodded. All at once, Armstrong cornered Scar against a wall, Becca finished the tripod, and Hawkeye affixed her rifle into its clamp and took aim.

“Come on, Armstrong,” she heard her murmur. Becca looked over, narrowing her eyes at Armstrong’s broad back. He had to move before Hawkeye could have a clear shot. Just as Scar reached out towards Armstrong’s hip, the Strong Arm Alchemist danced out of the way, leaving him wide open. Hawkeye didn’t waste a second and shots rang out again.

“Did you get him?” Mustang asked. Becca briefly thought that was a stupid question, given that it was Hawkeye they were talking about but she took a second look. Scar was still standing.

He’d dodged every bullet.

His dark sunglasses fell to the ground, one lense shattered, followed by a spattering of blood.

Well, almost every bullet.

“He’s too fast,” Hawkeye remarked. “I only grazed him with one shot.”

However, that one strike was all they needed to figure out the truth. As one, the entire squadron of military personnel went silent.

“Brown skin and red eyes,” Armstrong said pensively. “That means he’s…”

“An Ishvalan!” Mustang breathed.

The entire group seemed to be holding their breath. Scar panted, backed up against the brick, trapped between a wall of a building and a wall of guns aimed at him. “There might be too many,” he muttered to himself. “I’m at a disadvantage with so many opponents.”

Mustang had his hand up, the soldiers holding fire under his command, but Becca knew every hand had a finger resting on the trigger. The colonel called out, “Scar! Give up and come quietly! You have to know you can’t escape us now!”

Everyone was still for a few moments, then, almost faster than the eye could see, he slammed his tattooed arm into the ground. Becca scooted backwards, and it seemed that most of the MPs were with her, even though she thought she heard Mustang shouting for them to fire. When the concrete stopped collapsing, leaving a cloud of dust to mix with the rain, a few soldiers hesitantly approached the new hole in the street. 

“The bastard went into the sewers,” Havoc said, sounding impressed.

“Stay out,” Mustang ordered curtly. “Do not follow him.”

Havoc scoffed. “Don’t have to tell me twice.”

Mustang moved a bit closer, standing next to Armstrong. “Sorry we missed,” he said genuinely. “But thanks for buying us time to surround him anyway.”

Armstrong shook his head. “I was hardly buying time. I was more focused on keeping myself alive.”

“Ah, is it over yet?”

Becca looked towards the familiar voice, unable to stop a small smile from forming. Lieutenant Colonel Hughes had popped up from behind a car, much to Mustang and Armstrong’s chagrin.

“Is that where you’ve been, Lieutenant Colonel?” Armstrong grunted.

“I’ve been laying low,” Hughes defended, shrugging carelessly.

“You didn’t think that maybe you should back us up?” Mustang snapped.

“Obviously not!” Hughes said flippantly. “A normal guy like me has no place in a fight with you freakish pseudo-humans! It’s bad for my health!” He turned to his troops and sharply ordered, “Now what are you all doing? We’ve got things to do! Deploy troops! Circulate his description around the city!”

“Yes, sir!” they all shouted in unison. The majority of them dispersed, including the ones other than Havoc that had surrounded Ed and the ones who had formed a small human barrier protecting Al, finally allowing all three of them to see each other for the first time after the fight. Although, Becca thought contentedly, Ed only seemed to be looking for his brother. As he should. She was fine, meanwhile, Al was literally falling apart.

“Oh, no, Alphonse…” Ed said faintly, stumbling to his feet and over to Al’s still body, then crashing down next to him. He shook Al’s metal shoulder plate, making it clank a bit. Becca beckoned Fuery over.

“Help me over there, will you?” she requested softly.

Fuery smiled, allowing her to wrap an arm around his shoulders and hoist herself up. She hobbled over just in time to hear Ed pleading, “Al! Can you hear me? Are you alright? Talk to me, please!”

“Edward,” Becca said, placing a hand on his shoulder. “He might just-”

Suddenly, Al jerked up, his fist knocking Ed back onto his rear with a shocked cry. “You idiot!” Al shouted, lurching forward as much as he was able. “Why didn’t you run when I told you to?”

It took only a moment for Ed to break out of his shock that Al had hit him, not in a sparring match, but to actually hurt him, and then he was lashing back, “So I was just supposed to leave you behind? No way!”

“Which is why you’re so stupid!” Al retorted, socking Ed again.

“Al…” Becca said to break the tension, then quickly raised her hands in surrender and defended, “Hey, hey, hey, I already got knocked on the head, don’t go hitting me.”

“And why do you keep punching me?” Ed complained, holding his jaw. “If I ran, he might have killed you!”

“And he might not have!” Al argued. “Maybe choosing to die is something that only an idiot would do!”

Clearly trying to salvage his reputation, Ed got back up and in his brother’s face, waving a finger haphazardly. “Go easy on the idiot thing, I’m still your older brother, you hear?”

One thing he didn’t see coming was Al’s metal fist curling around the collar of his shirt, keeping him close when he tried to back away. Becca heard a foreboding creak and urged, “Al, maybe you shouldn’t-”

He ignored her. “I’ll say it all I want to if you insist on being an idiot!” he said then, voice still heated, though a bit kinder than he had been, “Surviving is the only option, Brother! Live on, and learn more about alchemy, so we can get our bodies back! And maybe you can save other people like Nina!” He shook Ed a bit to drive his point in. “You- you can’t do that by dying! I would never forgive you if you chose to abandon hope and die a meaningless death instead of fighting to live!”

Ed opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by an abrupt snap as Al’s remaining arm fell to the pavement. Al groaned, frustrated. “Aw, great! And now my arm fell off! Because my brother’s a big, stupid idiot!” Becca couldn’t hold back a watery laugh, making him turn to her and sternly say, “Just because I can’t hit you doesn’t mean that doesn’t all go for you, Becca!”

She shut her mouth, trying to look appropriately cowed. Ed laughed hollowly, then leaned against Al’s chest. “We really are a mess, huh, Brother?” he gestured to the metal scraps scattered around them. “We could say we look terrible and that wouldn’t even cover half of it.”

“But we’re alive,” Al mumbled.

“Yeah,” Ed said thoughtfully. “We’re alive.”

Becca smiled softly, glancing away to give them a moment of privacy. As she did so, her eyes caught on Mustang standing with Hughes a few feet away. A fond smile had slipped through his usual mask as he looked down the alley at the boys, though it dropped quickly when he noticed her looking. She cocked her eyebrow at him, but didn’t comment, especially since she could finally feel warmth on her back for the first time in what seemed like ages. She turned quickly, a smile of her own lighting up her face, and had to shield her eyes against the bright rays of sun, and she could have sworn she saw a flash of Will’s dark jacket disappearing around a fire escape.

---

Within a few hours, all the major players in the fight with Scar had gathered in Mustang’s office. Some, like Hughes, Breda, and Havoc, took over the couches, a few, like Ed and Hawkeye, stayed on their feet, and even Becca and Al had taken the floor, although Al didn’t particularly have a choice. Given his state, they’d picked up every piece of him that they could find so Ed wouldn’t have to thin his body out too much, and put them all in a large box, of which Al’s head stuck out so he could still see and be a part of the conversation. Ed and Becca had been forced to get checked out along with the rest of the team, so Becca’s wrist was sufficiently bandaged and she’d been ordered to keep icing it while they were briefed. She also had officially been cleared without a concussion so she’d be able to travel whenever the boys decided to leave. In the interest of not ruining Mustang’s leather couches, she’d sat down on the floor and leaned against Al’s box, resting her free hand on Ed’s shoe as he tapped his opposite foot impatiently.

“Since he is Ishvalan,” Mustang was remarking, “his revenge is justified, in some capacity.”

“No way!” Ed said dismissively. “He can’t justify dragging people who weren’t involved in the first place-” He gestured around to him, Becca, and Al,  “-into his ‘revenge’ plot.”

Becca nodded quickly. “It would be one thing if he was coming after you,” she noted, then amended, “no offense. But us three, we were kids when the Ishvalan conflict was happening. All he’s doing is dressing up his lust for vengeance as a divine mission by adding God into the equation.”

“And acting all arrogant about it by calling himself an agent of justice,” Ed added.

Mustang sighed heavily. “Justified or not, he’s coming at us full-force. Especially since he knows we know his secrets.”

“Secrets?” Becca asked, furrowing her brows. “There’s something other than the Ishvalan thing?”

“He’s an alchemist too,” Ed explained. “You know, comprehension, deconstruction, reconstruction- but he stops at the second stage.”

She bit her lip and thought back on the murderer’s attacks. That did make sense, the more she thought about it.“Ah. A hypocrite,” she said sagely.

“And one we can’t afford to underestimate again,” Mustang interrupted from behind steepled fingers. “We can’t let him kill us.” He levelled a hard stare across the desk at all of them. “Next time we see him, there’s not going to be any talking. We’re going to take him out.”

There were a few mumbled, “Yes sir”s, but they were few and far between. Everyone seemed subdued. Becca squeezed Ed’s foot reassuringly.

Hughes stretched his arms over his head, then groaned loudly. “Alright, enough on that grim topic. Edward, Alphonse, Rebecca? What are you three going to do now?”

“We’ve got to keep moving,” Ed said firmly. “I don’t know about you guys,” he said to Becca and Al’s direction, “but I’m done sitting around while I’m still alive.”

“Me too, Brother,” Al said.

“You know I’m with you both,” Becca affirmed.

Ed gave them a tiny smile and feebly joked, “But I guess we can’t exactly keep moving forward until you’re up on your feet again, huh, Al? We gotta go get my arm back to normal before we can make any headway since I’m the only one who can keep you soul anchored to your body.” He rolled his eyes up to the ceiling, huffing. “I guess we don’t really have a choice. It’s been a long time, but we’ve gotta visit our mechanic back home.”

Becca thought back to staying in the hospital after the MacDougal incident and sneaking glances at the intricacies of his automail arm, but even then, she’d wondered if she’d ever be allowed to come along to get it looked at, and knowing that their mechanic was back in their hometown of Resembool only magnified that uncertainty. Their home might be too intimate and she wouldn’t blame them for not wanting her to see them at what was probably their most vulnerable.

“I guess I’ll see you in a few days?”

“Can you be ready to leave by tomorrow?”

Ed blinked. Becca blinked. “What?” they asked in unison. Someone in the office chuckled with an unmistakable fondness.

“You want me to come?”

“You weren’t going to?”

“You two, honestly,” Al grumbled, then his neck joints creaked as he looked down at Becca. “Becca, would you like to come visit Resembool with us?”

“I- of course,” Becca stuttered.

“I’ll go ahead and order your tickets for the first train out tomorrow morning,” Mustang said. “You three are dismissed to go pack, and Armstrong, could you tag along and take Alphonse to their room?” The blonde man nodded, and the colonel continued, “Then come back here. The rest of you, stick around and start writing your reports until Armstrong gets back and we can pick out an escort.”

Ed, who looked ready to bolt up until Mustang mentioned an escort, whirled around, his temper spiking. “We don’t need an escort!”

“Oh, so you’re just going to take the murderer by yourself?” Mustang challenged, then gestured to Ed’s port and added, “One handed?”

“He has a point, Ed,” Becca said gently, standing up as well.

He fumed, then rolled his eyes again and grumbled, “Fine. Let’s go.” They trooped out of the office, Becca pushing the door open with her elbow to avoid her wrist. Ed peered pointedly at the tight wrap and asked, “Did that come from Scar?”

Becca’s eyes widened and she laughed nervously. “Well, ah, no, it didn’t. It’s actually kind of a funny story…”

---

After Becca finished her story (and, of course, was sufficiently questioned by the Elrics about every detail of her interaction with Will), they ended up staying up late that night, just talking. It felt like a sleepover, whispering secrets in the light of the moon shining through the window, but really, there weren’t many secrets between the three of them anymore. Instead, they traded story for story about their childhoods, sticking to light hearted anecdotes after the day they’d had, and giggled like schoolchildren.

Al was regaling the first time Ed had tried to swim after getting automail when the first mention of their friend came up. “Then Winry had to jump in so Brother wouldn’t drown,” he said matter-of-factly. 

Ed, who’d already been the victim of a few embarrassing stories, swatted Al’s helmet playfully. “That one wasn’t my fault!” he insisted. “I was still figuring out how the automail would affect my center of balance.”

“And you thought the best way to do that was to try and walk across a pond on a fallen tree?” Becca asked teasingly. “I guess dumb older brothers are a running trend, huh?”

Ed pointed a lazy finger at her from his spot leaning against the opposite arm of the couch. “You don’t have a dumb brother, you have a murderous brother.”

Wordlessly, she tried to kick him, but due to their legs being tangled up on the center cushion, she missed and wound up banging her foot on his metal leg. She swore, glaring at the offending limb and pulling her foot back as both boys burst into laughter.

“If we’re all done mocking my pain...” she said after they’d calmed down, “tell me about Winry. What’s she like?”

“Well, she’s a gearhead.”

“Brother!”

Ed waved Al’s scolding tone off, indignantly protesting, “Well, I’m not wrong!”

“Winry and Granny are good people,” Al explained. “They helped us a lot before… before everything, and after, obviously.”

Becca hummed. “And you’re sure they won’t mind me tagging along?” She let her leg fall off the edge of the couch, swinging it thoughtfully. “I mean, Armstrong has a reason to come. I don’t, really. I don’t want to intrude.”

Ed furrowed his brows, and she could even feel a perturbed look from Al’s spot near the coffee table. “You won’t be intruding,” Al assured her. Ed, though, never one for flowery words, reached over to squeeze Becca’s shin. The little, supportive gesture made her smile, and she laid her hand on top of Ed’s.

“Alright,” she said, still a little doubtful but figuring she’d already killed the mood enough for one night. “So since you guys have always been so close, can I finally get excited about seeing a picture of Al?”

Notes:

i hope you and your loved ones are all staying healthy and safe, and i'll see y'all in the next update -c

Chapter 11: aubade

Notes:

happy thursday, my dears!

i hope you all are doing okay in the wake of elections- i know i was glued to my tv all freaking night even though i knew we weren't going to get results. it's stressful, i know, but things are looking good, and one thing my dad told me was that sooner or later, this will end and we'll be able to progress again (also i hope you voted if you're of the age to do that).

either way, i actually expected this chapter to be a lot shorter since this isn't exactly my favorite plot point (and i'm excited to get to resembool) but i started writing and things just... got a little out of hand. and it was actually finished a few days ago but i really need to stay on a schedule so i don't drive myself and you guys insane, so i at least had a couple days head start on resembool which i'm trying to keep in one chapter, so that might end up as another long one; i like to think that's a good thing to look forward to.

alright, i know that's enough rambling from me, so let's just get into it, shall we?

aubade (noun)- a poem or piece of music appropriate to the dawn or early morning

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Mustang contacted them late that night (or maybe early that morning) about their travel arrangements, the ringing jolting both Becca and Ed from their spots dozing on the couch. Ed untwined their legs and patted her knee, mumbling that he would get it and allowing her to curl back up against the arm she’d claimed, hovering on the edge of consciousness as she listened to Ed’s waspish exchange with Mustang. She couldn’t quite make out his words, but she heard when he hung up and groaned, “First goddamn train leaves at 5 am tomorrow.”

“You should get some rest then, Brother,” Al’s quiet voice responded.

“Yeah, I guess,” Ed said, then a beat, and then, “What should we do about her?”

Her? Becca thought vaguely. Who’s ‘her’?

Al said something in response, but it was too quiet for her to hear, but a thick, warm blanket was spread out over her body and she smiled, clutching the fabric closer and rolling over, content and comfortable enough to drift back to sleep, at least for a little while.

---

“You guys couldn’t have woken me up?” Becca complained, rubbing her sore neck as they were hustled out of the barracks towards a waiting military car. She’d had a restless night after dropping off to sleep on the stiff couch in their room, and she knew Al wasn’t wasn’t exactly in the right state to physically move her, but seriously, was she that heavy of a sleeper? “Or at least  given me a pillow?”

“You looked like you were fine,” Ed defended. “And Al said you didn’t sleep well the other night.”

She sighed, trying to sound annoyed rather than fond, but it was evidently unsuccessful since Ed merely smiled and shoved her playfully. The force, however, combined with his missing arm, unbalanced him and Becca’s unbandaged arm shot out, grabbing his sleeve to keep him from taking a tumble down the stairs.

“Oops,” Ed said, eyes wide. “Thanks, Bex.”

Becca waved him off. She reflexively reached over to brush a few specks of dust off his coat, then asked, “Speaking of Al, are you sure someone got sent to get him from the-”

Ed put a finger over his lips, silencing her before pointing behind them. She had to cover her mouth to hide a laugh at the sight of Al’s box being lugged down the stairs by a pair of struggling soldiers. “As far as they know, Al got sent ahead so he wouldn’t miss too much of his alchemy training-” Becca couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the excuse she’d insisted was pathetic that the boys had decided on for Al’s cover, “-but we have to transport his armour.”

“And they bought that?” she questioned.

“It seemed like they had bigger problems than the legitimacy,” he said, shrugging. “Like how they were going to fit the box in the car.”

They both glanced towards the waiting car, then back at Al and the soldiers, then at each other, and laughed. “I’m sure we’ll all get to Resembool in…” She paused, realizing that ‘in one piece’ might not be the most appropriate words at the moment, and continued, “in as many pieces as we’re leaving East City in.”

“Hey!” someone called from the car. They looked back at the bespectacled face stuck through the window nearest to the sidewalk, at Maes Hughes waving them over. Once he knew they’d seen him, he leaned back across the two front seats so he was behind the steering wheel by the time they reached the sidewalk.

“Good morning, Lieutenant Colonel,” Becca greeted as they approached the window. “What are you doing here? I thought MPs would be able to get us to the station, at least.”

“Morning, you two. The guys at Eastern Command are busy with the Scar reports, but I was getting ready to head back to Central anyway, so I figured I might as well see you off.” He thumbed backwards to the cab of the car and said, “Hop on in. I had the guys pull the third row seats out so there’s plenty of room for Al. Don’t dawdle, Major Armstrong is meeting us there.”

Ed opened the side door, allowing her in first, then either took pity on the soldiers still huffing and puffing down the stairs with Al or sensing an oncoming outburst of praise from Hughes, and ran around to the back so they’d be able to just slide in him in the back. As he pulled himself up into the cargo area and settled next to Becca, he rolled his eyes pointedly and remarked, “Yeah, I don’t think it’s us who’s dawdling.”

Becca ribbed him, careful of her own sprained wrist, then asked, “How’s your family, sir?”

Hughes didn’t seem phased by Ed’s sarcasm, merely chuckling and calling to the men, “Alright, you two, double time! Let’s get him loaded!” He twisted around, suddenly significantly less business-like and significantly more starry-eyed. “And Elicia has gotten so big since you all last saw her, and she just discovered that she can wear Mommy’s hats even if they’re too big on her-”

Next to her, Ed made a face and whispered, “You had to get him started, didn’t you?” 

Hughes kept babbling about his daughter and wife as he started the engine up and Al was perfectly still and silent until all the doors were shut and they’d started moving, when he twisted his head around as if to make sure it still worked, thus drawing Hughes’ attention to him.

“And good morning to you, Alphonse,” Hughes said.

“Good morning, sir!” Al chirped, sounding just as chipper as usual.

“So can I ask why exactly we’re stuck with Armstrong as an escort?” Ed said, quick to cut off another Elicia gushing session before it could start.

The lieutenant colonel only chuckled again and lightly said, “Let me see if I can’t remember everyone else’s excuse.” He tapped on the steering wheel as he tipped off each member of the team: “I’ll be on my way back to Central once I see you off, Roy can’t leave Eastern HQ and Hawkeye can’t leave Roy… and Havoc, Falman, Breda, and Fuery all said they didn’t think they would be of any use if Scar showed up again. So that leaves Armstrong. Plus, he did actually make a little headway against him yesterday. When you think about it, he’s really the best choice in terms of protection.”

“You can’t argue with that, Brother,” Al said.

“He’s right there,” Becca added, slowly coming around to the idea. “He might be a bit eccentric, but you know he can do a lot of damage.”

“Exactly,” Hughes said, pulling into a parking spot outside the station. “Here we are… and there’s Armstrong.” Indeed, Becca could peer out the window and see Armstrong’s broad chest and shoulders firmly above the heads of the civilians in the station, his golden curl barely swaying in the light wind caused by all the arriving trains. “Go around and open the back door while I go get him, won’t you?” Without waiting for an answer, Hughes popped the door open and waved the major down.

Ed practically bounded out of the car as well, eager to get to Resembool so they could get moving ASAP. While he started tugging Al closer to the back door so he’d be easier for Armstrong to reach, Becca went ahead and unloaded their luggage. However, she had barely managed to get everything out onto the sidewalk when she heard Ed’s indignant squawking from the back of the car, along with Armstrong’s deep wail.

Hesitantly, she poked her head around the corner to see poor Ed going steadily redder, squeezed tightly in Armstrong’s embrace. “I have heard all about you, Edward Elric!” he shouted, tearing up. “The pure love for your mother and brother- trying to save them both at the cost of your own limbs!” He sobbed openly, seemingly not noticing Ed gasping for air, and said, “I’ve been so moved!”

Ed pushed out of the man’s arms, keeping his own arm extended to keep Armstrong at a distance. Unfortunately, without Ed to distract him, Armstrong’s sight caught on Becca and her eyes widened only moments before she was embraced as well. “And Rebecca Harper! Tricked by your father for the sake of your beloved caretaker-”

Trying to be gentle, Becca slipped out of his arms, patting his shoulder consolingly, and mumbled, “There, there. Please don’t- um- cry.”

“Hughes, are you sure this is necessary?” Ed complained as Armstrong pulled himself together and hoisted Al up onto his shoulder then forged ahead to make a path through the crowd for the other three to follow to the edge of the platform.

“He’s here to help, Ed,” Hughes reassured. “Just try to grin and bear it, okay?”

“Children,” Armstrong said, motioning to the steps up into their car. “Go on and board while I take Alphonse and the luggage to their car.”

“Huh?” Al asked.

Becca raised her brow. “Luggage?”

“Hang on, where are you putting him?” Ed demanded.

“Ah, right,” Hughes said a little guiltily. “Sorry, I forgot to tell you. Mustang decided it would be more cost efficient and less suspicious if Al travelled in the luggage car.”

Ed growled, his remaining fist curling up frustratedly. “Damn colonel,” he complained. Though he was unhappy, he bit his tongue until Armstrong had seen them get on the train and subsequently walked away. Once it was just them and Hughes, however, he leaned out the window and asked, “Does Colonel Must-nag realize what a big mouth he has? Does everyone in the city know about us?”

The lieutenant colonel shrugged helplessly. “Don’t be too hard on Roy. When the major wants to know something, he has a way of getting it out of you. Oh!” He tapped the side of his head, smiling genially. “I almost forgot. He told me to give you two a message.” He screwed his face into a stern expression- though, in Becca’s opinion, he looked rather constipated- clearly meant to mimic Mustang. “Quote, ‘Post-processing is such a pain, so remember that you are not permitted to die within my jurisdiction,’ end quote.” He relaxed, then added, “That’s it.”

Ed huffed, annoyed, and replied, “Tell him my response is ‘Roger that. Like hell I’ll die before you, Colonel Bastard’,” enunciating every word dramatically.

Becca giggled. “Same as him. If Mustang asks, he meant it more though.”

Hughes stared at them incredulously, then erupted in laughter. “They say the good die young, so I guess you’ll all live long lives, won’t you?”

Just then, the train whistled once, a warning call. Major Armstrong reappeared, looking rather pleased with himself as he boarded, sliding into the seat rather gracefully for a man of his size. “Edward, you’ll be pleased to know I’ve made sure Alphonse is well-taken care of during the journey.

“How so?” Ed asked, narrowing his eyes.

“The conductor was kind enough to allow me to place him in the livestock car!” Armstrong explained proudly. Becca, who had taken a long sip from her flask, choked in surprise. She could practically see steam pouring out of Ed’s ears. Armstrong seemed not to notice as he justified, “That way, he will not get lonely.”

“My brother’s not a farm animal!” Ed shouted furiously.

Armstrong harrumphed. “Children are so impossible to please.”

“I am not a child!”

“Ed,” Becca said, trying to calm him down since a few other passengers had turned in their seats and were staring at them. “Al will be fine. It’s not ideal, but I’m sure he’d prefer that to sitting by himself in the luggage car.”

The second, longer whistle sounded and Hughes stepped backwards as the train started to move. “Guess it’s time. Have a safe trip,” he said, walking alongside the steam engine, “and remember to drop a call if you’re ever up in Central.” He saluted the trio, and, upon receiving three salutes back (although Ed unfortunately had to use his left hand), raised his hand in a farewell gesture.

Once they were out of sight of the train station, it didn’t take long for Ed to begrudgingly settle down and cross his working arm across his chest. Becca smiled to herself at the image of the great Fullmetal Alchemist basically pouting, but playfully nudged his foot and teased, “Come on, Ed, aren’t you at least a little excited to see Winry and the others in your town?”

“Yes, I’ve never met an automail mechanic, so I am quite intrigued,” Armstrong said agreeably, leaning back and getting comfortable.

Unfolding from himself slightly, Ed corrected, “Technically, Winry and Granny Pinako are surgeons, engineers, physical therapists, and prosthetists all rolled up into one. They’ve been good to us before, so, hopefully they won’t mind doing a rush job.” He smirked. “If we’re lucky, she might even give us a deal.”

“And what sort of place is Resembool?” Armstrong asked.

“Ugh,” Ed said, rolling his eyes. “There’s nothing there. The guy who founded it wanted it to be a trading village where the farmers could sell their goods to merchants, so he built the train station and all the actual town buildings to be pretty big, but it never really got there. When the Eastern Civil War spread, Resembool took some serious hits, so now it’s basically a farming community. Lots of sheep.” He gave Armstrong a look. “Maybe if the army had done their jobs better, it would be different.”

The major looked away and mumbled, “I don’t particularly like the sound of that.”

“Should I go on?” Ed said sarcastically.

“There’s seriously nothing you like about it?” Becca asked doubtfully.

Ed hummed, then smiled softly, leaning against the window. “Well… it’s nice and quiet. There’s nothing there, but it has something a lot of the big cities always miss, you know?” He stretched his arm above his head, sighing, “Yeah. That’s Resembool.”

---

Resembool was supposedly only a day’s train ride from East City, give or take a few hours. However, this trip could take longer, given the numerous stops they were scheduled to make along the way, the first of which was to a tiny village only two hours or so outside of East City. Ed had pulled his feet up onto the bench he and Becca were sharing before leaning against the rocking window. Becca and Armstrong were both reading their own books, the major sitting up ramrod straight and Becca perfectly perpendicular to him, backed up against the outer arm of their bench.

“Are you planning on visiting your home any time soon?” Armstrong asked out of the blue. “I’m sure Colonel Mustang would understand if you wanted to loop up to Adethal before you went back to East City.”

Becca bit her lip, then shrugged. “Nah. I don’t have much waiting for me back home, so I’m not in a rush to get back.”

“Forgive me for prying, but is your mother not in the picture? The Colonel informed me about your stepmother, and I knew your father was distant, but-”

She considered fibbing, but figured there wasn’t really a point in lying. “She’s still in the house, if that’s what you mean. Technically, I think it’s probably either mine or my brother’s house by birthright, but… well, my brother is obviously indisposed, and I don’t mind letting her stay there since she’s the one who actually wants it, even if we aren’t on great terms right now.” She thought for a moment. “Or ever. You know what? Now that I think about it, the house might actually be the military’s property since my dad put it up for collateral.” Upon looking over and seeing Armstrong’s stricken look, she frantically tried to calm him down, though that seemed to make it worse: “No, no, hey, it’s fine, I’m fine.” The man still looked like he was about to cry. She put her book down, pages on the wooden arm of her seat, and holding her one hand up calmingly while the other came to rest on Ed’s calf. “That just means I can do more with Ed and Al. Really, I don’t mind staying on the road.”

Finally, with that distraction, the major managed to stifle his emotions, growing somber once more. “So it’s true that they haven’t returned home since Edward was certified?”

“I think they made a quick stop right after, but pretty much, no,” Becca affirmed. She didn’t think they’d come home briefly, she knew they did, but she’d never pried for details on the subject, though she trusted they would have told her if she had. But that wasn’t her story to share, so all she needed was to satisfy Armstrong. And, as they rolled into the first train stop, it appeared he finally was. He crossed his arms, peering out the window as the train slowed. Becca naturally followed his gaze to a dark haired, slouched older man, but she still jumped when Armstrong lurched out of his seat. The quick movement spooked Ed as well and he was quick to whirl around and press his nose to the window to identify a possible threat.

“Dr. Marcoh!” Armstrong called out onto the platform. The man turned, looking confused and… surprised? Although, Becca supposed, she couldn’t exactly fault him for that. Being shouted at by anyone could shock someone, but Armstrong wasn’t just a normal person, and the reaction would obviously intensify. But then recognition flashed in his eyes and the natural surprise morphed into fear, and then abject terror as the major continued to shout, “It is you! Dr. Marcoh, it’s Alex Louis Armstrong! From Central!”

The man, presumably one Dr. Marcoh, bolted.

Becca leaned back to where she’d been reclining and asked, “A friend of yours?”

“Some friend,” Ed scoffed.

“I could have sworn that was him…” Armstrong said, trailing off. “Dr. Marcoh was a talented alchemist I worked with in Central years ago. He was researching the possibility of alchemy in a medical forum, but after Ishval, he vanished, along with all of his research.”

“Medical alchemy, huh?” Ed said thoughtfully, then stood up quickly. “Let’s get off here!” Before either Becca or Armstrong could question him, he was out the compartment door, waving down a conductor to get him to halt the train. “Sorry, unexpected stop! We’ve got to get our luggage!”

Becca groaned, then stood and hurried after him, tossing an additional, “Sorry!” over her shoulder as she jumped onto the platform, Armstrong only a few steps behind.

“I thought we were getting off in Resembool,” Armstrong said, confused.

“If that guy researches what you said he did, he might have some knowledge that could help us get our bodies back!” Ed explained in a hushed voice. His eyes shone with hope as he suggested, “Or maybe even something on the Philosopher’s Stone!”

“Becca considered his point for a moment, then nodded slowly. She supposed it was as good as any lead they’d been given, and so soon after a series of defeats, anything positive was sure to cheer Ed and Al up. “Okay, I’m following you. It’s definitely worth looking into.” She looked him up and down, then down at her own injured wrist. “But are you sure you don’t want to wait until we’re in… better condition?”

Ed paused for a second, looking pained but obviously considering Becca’s position. “What if he runs? You saw him, he looked scared…”

“Dr. Marcoh is a good man,” Armstrong said firmly. “I’ve never known the man to hurt a fly, you’d all be perfectly safe even if he doesn’t want to talk to us.”

“You’re sure?”

“Incredibly.”

He smiled, nudging Becca. “It’ll be fine, Bex. Major, will you get Al while we grab the luggage?”

---

“Excuse me,” Becca said to yet another pedestrian. “Do you know where Dr. Marcoh lives?”

“Old guy? Brown hair?” Ed pressed, holding up a crude doodle of the man from the station.

The woman looked confused, then shook her head. “I don’t know him, sorry,” she said before walking away.

Frustration swelled in Becca once again and she took a long breath. Ed appeared to be in a similar state, pacing back and forth as he murmured to her, “This town is so small, there’s no way that no one knows him. Do you think they’re all covering for him?”

“Maybe...” Becca said hesitantly. “But it could just be that he’s hiding. Maybe he didn’t actually come this way?”

They’d put their things down in the tiny town’s center square, Al sitting in his box on the edge of the cobble stone, and had tried to stop each person walking by to ask them about the runaway doctor. Armstrong had taken up a rather useless, though admittedly funny, position, sitting criss-cross on the grass near Al and scribbling in a notebook until he suddenly stood up, catching the next man before Becca or Ed could.

“Pardon me, have you seen this man?” he asked, holding up his notebook to reveal an impressive sketch of Dr. Marcoh. “He ran this way within the last half hour.”

Becca and Ed peered over his shoulder. Becca made an impressed sound while Ed gave a begrudging, “You’re a pretty good artist, Major.”

The major preened under the praise. “This is a demonstration of the art of portraiture that has been passed down the Armstrong line for generations,” he explained proudly.

One of the men Armstrong had handed the picture to finally snapped his fingers in recognition. “Oh! You mean you’re looking for Dr. Mauro !”

“Mauro?” Armstrong asked. “No, no, he’s-”

“No, let’s hear him out,” Becca said quietly. “It’s the best lead we have.”

“Most of us are pretty poor around here,” another man explained. “We usually can’t afford real doctors, and any of the ones who were born here got pulled out during Ishval, but then Dr. Mauro came into town. He’s a good man and he doesn’t care about money or any of that.”

“He refuses to give up on anyone, even patients that the rest of us think can’t be saved!” his companion piped in.

A small crowd had gathered, and each person seemed to have something good to say about the doctor, healing sick children and elderly, helping with births, and even making sure his patients who needed to rest were able to by dropping by their home to help with household chores and organizing other volunteers to do what he couldn’t. But it was one exchange that really caught Becca’s attention, and by his head quickly swivelling towards the couple talking, she could tell it grabbed Ed’s too.

“I got my leg caught up in a tractor last year,” the man was saying. “It looked like I was a goner, but he fixed it right up!” He grinned, tapping his knee. “Just like new!”

“There was just a big flash of red light,” the woman next to him added, “and then you were healed!”

“Red light, huh?” Becca said quietly.

Ed shot a glance up at Al and Armstrong. “What did you say his address was again?”

---

Gait uneven due to his missing arm, Ed bounded up the stairs to the door of a plain looking house. If there wasn’t a railing (and he didn’t look so damn excited)  Becca might have told him to slow down or be careful, but she figured nothing too bad could happen when they were just visiting a doctor in his otherwise safe looking house.

Evidently, when Ed knocked on the door, calling out, “Hello? Dr. Marcoh?”  and the barrel of a gun was suddenly pointing out at him, she figured she was wrong.

He barely had time to jump out of the way when Marcoh pulled the trigger.

“Ed!”

“Brother!”

“What the hell?”

Becca leaped up the remaining stairs, slamming the front door shut and pressing her back against it, staring at Ed with reflected wide, panicked eyes and heavy breathing.

“What did you come here for?” Marcoh shouted, muffled by the thick wooden door. “Are you here to take me back?”

“Dr. Marcoh, please calm down,” Armstrong called out.

“I don’t want to go back to Central- to them!” Marcoh continued, the door shaking as he rammed against it from the inside. “I won’t go back there! Just leave me be! I’m not hurting anyone!”

“We never said that!” Becca said pointedly, grinding her teeth as she dug her heels into the ground against Marcoh trying to escape. “We just had a few-”

“So you’ve come to kill me then?” the doctor demanded. One particularly hard shove from Marcoh made the door fly open, sending Becca stumbling into Ed’s chest and knocking them both off balance until she could steady herself by bracing her wrist on the railing and her good hand clutching his good arm, his hand gripping her upper arm in response. When she turned over her shoulder, Marcoh was still shaking in the doorway, the gun swinging frantically between all four of them. “To silence me!”

“No!” Armstrong said, sounding offended. “Now won’t you put down the gun-”

“You can’t fool me!”

Armstrong sighed, resigned, then snapped, “I said to calm down!” before easily tossing Al’s box through the doorway, knocking Marcoh off his feet as all three teenagers cried out in protest. The major didn’t seem phased, waving them forward. “Come along, children,” he said casually as he hoisted Al back up onto his shoulder.

Becca glanced back, intending to shoot Ed a confused look, but paused when she realized how they were still holding onto each other. They stared at each other for a moment until there was a thud from Armstrong setting Al down, jolting them apart.

Ed cleared his throat. “I- uh- should we-?”

“Yeah,” Becca said, patting his arm awkwardly. “Let’s-”

“Okay.”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

---

The air inside the doctor’s office was stifling, not from heat or humidity, but more of the continued unpleasantness from outside. They’d settled around a table Marcoh had cleared off, Marcoh, Armstrong, and Al each on their own sides and Ed and Becca sharing the one that remained.

“What are you doing here, Dr. Marcoh?” Becca asked softly after they’d sat in silence for a few moments. “Why go through all the trouble of fleeing Central, changing your name, and going into hiding with top secret research? What happened?”

For a few seconds, it seemed like Marcoh might just give them the silent treatment until they left, but then, hesitantly, he admitted, “I couldn’t take it anymore.” They waited for a bit longer, then, “Even though it was an order from the top, I refused to dirty my hands anymore by researching that… thing.”

“What thing?” Ed pressed.

“It- it took so many lives,” Marcoh stuttered. “During the civil war, so many innocents died because of it. I could never atone for what I’ve done- what I allowed to happen- but I have to try. That’s why I came here, to be a doctor and save lives rather than take them.”

“What is the thing you were researching?” Armstrong said. “And what did you escape with?”

Marcoh trembled visibly under all their gazes before he confessed, “I created Philosopher’s Stones.”

Everyone inhaled sharply. Ed tensed next to her and leaned forward over the table between him and Marcoh. Becca reached for his hand, squeezing tightly.

“I hid my research before I ran,” the doctor said, “and took an actual Stone when I left.”

Ed dropped her hand and was on his feet before Becca could blink. “You have one? Here? Now?”

Marcoh stalled, before looking away, ashamed for some reason, and reaching into his jacket’s inner pocket, only to emerge with… a vial of red liquid? “Here it is.”

“That-” Becca said, furrowing her brow. Ed backed off, looking similarly confused. “That’s not a stone,” she said.

Wordlessly, Marcoh unplugged the vial’s stopper and tilted it towards the table. Ed, Al, and Becca all vocally protested, only to cut themselves off with strangled gasps as it kept its shape, forming an unsteady, but obviously round and cohesive mass on the tabletop.

“‘The Philosopher’s Stone’, ‘the Celestial Stone’, ‘the Great Elixir’, ‘the Red Tincture’, ‘the Fifth Element’,” Marcoh listed, then, as Ed leaned forward to poke at the gelatinous sphere, Becca made a face at the consistency, Al creaked, straining to try and get a closer look, and Armstrong rested his chin on his hand in order to examine it, explained, “Just like the Stone has many names, so can it come in many shapes.”

“So this is it?” Ed asked, awed.

Marcoh shook his head. “No. This is only an incomplete product. Although it is a powerful amplifier, we have no way of knowing when it will reach its power limit and become unstable or unusable. In other words, this particular sample is imperfect, and all others like it are missing a key ingredient.”

Ed glanced sideways at Al, then back at Becca. She nodded. They were all thinking about the same instances- Cornello, of course, and even back to MacDougal. Both of those must have been imperfect Stones. And Marcoh was right; they had been powerful, almost scarily so, but clearly close to the end of their lives by the time they’d heard about them.

“But it sounded like they were still pretty powerful in Ishval,” Becca observed.

“Even if they’re imperfect now, that means we could, theoretically, make a perfect one with some further research, right?” Ed asked, a tiny, hopeful smile starting to bloom on his face. He slammed his hand down on the table, practically surging towards the doctor. “Dr. Marcoh, please! We need access to your research materials!”

Marcoh merely stared at him. “Major?” he asked, turning to Armstrong. “Who, exactly, are these children? Have you taken on apprentices?”

“Ah, no,” Armstrong said. “These two are State Alchemists, Doctor. Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, and his partner, the Illusion Alchemist, Rebecca Harper. And that-” He gestured to Al, “- is Edward’s brother, Alphonse.”

“You can’t be serious,” Marcoh said, shocked. “I knew so many other alchemists who turned in their certifications after the Ishvalan Civil War because they didn’t want to be used as human weapons, even with all the privileges that probably drew you three in. And they allowed children -”

“You think we wanted this?” Becca said derisively. “You think we wanted to be dragging our asses all over the country, constantly putting ourselves in danger?”

“Al and I knew it was a stupid decision!” Ed snapped.

“And I didn’t have a choice!” Becca said in the same tone.

“But we have goals we have to accomplish, and this is the only way!” Ed continued. “We knew what we signed up for when we started. If we’re making mistakes, so be it! It’s only on our own heads anyway.”

Marcoh’s eyes flicked between Ed and Al, connections forming behind his eyes. Slowly, horrified, he muttered, “What did you do?”

---

“So you all committed the taboo.” Marcoh looked over to Ed, seemingly impressed. “You- you transmuted your brother’s soul. That’s… amazing. I didn’t know it was possible to summon a particular soul.” He turned to Becca. “And you- before Ishval, I worked with your father at the Academy. He was cunning. Ruthless, and cunning, and, if I’m honest, he never seemed happy with what he had. He always talked about wanting more. I imagine he would have drilled those values into you as well, but… never mind.” His eyes slid over the three of them, almost appraising them. “It’s clear you’re clever. With your combined skills, perhaps you could create a perfect Stone.”

“So you’ll let us-”

He held up a hand, cutting Ed off. “But I can’t show you my research.”

“What?” Ed said, face falling.

“Why?” Becca asked- no, more like whined, if she was being honest with herself.

“You cannot continue to pursue this thing,” Marcoh said sternly. “You must not!”

Ed’s expression hardened. “Not even to restore our bodies?”

“Never,” Marcoh insisted. “It is the devil’s research, and seeing its contents is not worth something so minor as your bodies.”

“Minor?” Becca said, incensed. “That’s minor to you?”

“Doctor, this truly isn’t fair,” Armstrong said, sounding a little indignant on their behalf.

“If you learn about it, the only place it will lead you is through hell!” Marcoh said harshly.

“I’ve already been through hell!” Ed shouted in response.

Marcoh looked genuinely heartbroken, and, for a moment, and it looked like he might actually give in and relent, but then his resolve hardened and he turned away. “I’m truly sorry. But my answer is still no. Please, just… go.”

Becca looked to Ed, who was still tightly wound up and standing ramrod straight.

“Brother?” Al asked.

Slowly, deliberately, Ed relaxed from the top of his head to his feet. “We’ve got to see about another train to Resembool,” he said tiredly, stepping away from the table.

Becca stood up and pushed her chair in. “Thank you for your time,” she said coldly.

Armstrong carefully moved around the table, avoiding Marcoh, and picked Al up again. They all trooped back out onto the little porch, starting down the stairs. It was only when they’d reached the dirt road and started their trek back through town to the train station that Becca hollowly joked, “We’ve gotten pretty bad at keeping that secret lately, haven’t we?”

Ed chuckled sadly, but gave no response.

“You’re really okay with just leaving?” Armstrong asked. “Even without the files, you probably could have taken the Stone by force and reverse engineered it in order to at least have a baseline.”

“I know,” Ed said bitterly, kicking a stone across the path. “In fact, I wanted it so bad I could practically taste it.”

“But we don’t want it badly enough to warrant taking away this town’s only doctor,” Al said.

“Yeah… I guess after meeting all those people who had stories about him, it might leave a bit of a bad taste in your mouth,” Becca supposed.

“Exactly,” Ed agreed. “We gained plenty just by learning that it definitely can be made. We had our suspicions, but it’s nice to have them confirmed so we know it isn’t a total wild goose chase. We’ll just have to keep looking for another way, right?”

“Right,” Al said.

“Marcoh can’t be the only one who ever researched the Philosopher’s stone anyway, right?” Becca said, shrugging. “Maybe when we’re back in the city we can ask the colonel for a list of his colleagues.”

Ed nodded fimly, then craned his neck up to question Armstrong. “What about you? What are you going to report back to Central?”

The major gestured around at the surrounding village carelessly. “I met a simple, small-town doctor named Mauro today,” he said. “I see no need to report that to the higher ups.”

All of them laughed a bit at the shared secret.

“What a long road we’ve gotten ourselves stuck on,” Ed said, running his hand through his hair.

Becca nodded and opened her mouth to agree, but running footsteps from behind them made her glance over her shoulder. Her jaw dropped.

“Wait!” Dr. Marcoh was shouting as he ran towards them.

“Doctor?” Ed said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

The doctor slowed to a stop, bent over to catch his breath. Still panting, he offered Ed a clean, white, sealed envelope. “Here,” he said. “This is where I hid my research before I fled Central.” Reverently, Ed accepted the paper, holding it to his chest protectively. Marcoh warned, “If you’re sure you won’t regret learning the truth, look there. Perhaps you will be able to find the truth within the truth.” He looked around furtively. “Now, get out of here. I’ve said too much.” He turned quickly, waving over his shoulder. A little awkwardly, he offered, “I hope you will get your bodies back some day, Elric brothers,” then, to Becca, “and that you can end up more content in life than your father, Miss Harper.”

Stunned, it took Becca a moment to process the sudden turn of events, but once she saw Ed bowing out of the corner of her eye, she instinctively followed suit. After Marcoh was sufficiently far enough away so it wouldn’t be embarrassing, however, she straightened up, not bothering to hold back a triumphant smile and practically leaping over to hug Ed. He laughed giddily, throwing his working arm around her shoulders as well.

“What are we still doing here?” he said excitedly. “Come on, we’ve gotta get to Resembool, and then- then-”

“Yeah, what does it say, Brother?” Al asked. “Where are we going next?”

“Let’s see!” Using his teeth, Ed went ahead and ripped the note open. Becca helped him to tug the letter from the empty envelope and he flipped the remaining paper open as she crumpled it into her pocket. “It says… ‘National Central Library, First Branch’.”

“Huh. Hiding a tree in a forest, I suppose,” Armstrong remarked.

“More like hiding a tree branch in a forest,” Becca said, pressing her lips together. “That library is massive. It’ll be a chore to find anything in there, especially if we’re trying to stay incognito, which I assume we will.”

Ed grinned, starting off towards the station again. “Who cares how long it takes? We’ve got another clue about the Philosopher’s Stone!” he said victoriously.

“It’s not a dead end after all,” Al said.

Becca felt like dancing rather than walking through town, but she settled for just giggling and jumping up to knock on Al’s helmet before chasing Ed down to ruffle his hair. He shouted in protest, automatically trying to retaliate and starting an intense game of tag between the two of them until they were finally boarding the train to Resembool.

Their new route would require one train switch in the middle of the night rather than going straight through like the one from yesterday, but the steamer they’d boarded had just come from Central, so they weren’t totally alone. They couldn’t discuss too much about what the game plan was to be, meaning they all had to take it easy for at least the next few hours.

However, Becca thought as they sank down onto two empty benches (with Al sat between them this time, so Ed wouldn’t have a conniption), one perk of late nights was that it made relaxing significantly easier. She yawned.

“Did you two not sleep any more on the way here?” Al asked.

“Oh, you know I can’t always sleep while we’re travelling. Not like your brother over there,” she said, playfully thumbing towards Ed.

Ed, on the other hand, looked genuinely concerned. “Maybe you should try to get some sleep if you’re still tired,” he said, then grinned. “After all, you’ll need as much rest as possible for decoding Marcoh’s research!”

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t push back a fond smile of her own. “Alright, alright, I’ll try.” She kicked her legs up on the bench, nudging Ed’s thigh. “Move or adjust, Edward.”

He let out a huffing laugh, moving her bent knee so he could mimic her position, their legs brushing up against each other as Becca slid down the barrier at the end of the seat. Ed pulled out his travelogue and a pencil, no doubt planning on scribbling down a coded entry about their unplanned stop and meeting with Dr. Marcoh, but he paused when Al asked, “Brother?”

“Yeah, Al?”

“Could you reach in here and grab my book?”

Instinctively, Ed obeyed, then stopped, furrowing his brow suspiciously when he went to hand it off to Al.

Al chuckled guiltily. “Since it’s already out… would you mind reading some?”

Becca bit back a mischievous giggle of her own. Everyone who knew them thought Al was perfectly innocent, but she knew better. Although she thought his primary goal was probably getting Ed to relax along with her, she didn’t ignore the self-serving perk Al would be getting as a secondary perk.

“Ugh, you- you-” He looked over to Becca for support and she only shrugged helplessly.

“Al was by himself for the first leg of this trip,” she said. “He might have been bored.” She raised an eyebrow pointedly. “And lonely.”

That was the cincher. Ed groaned loudly, leaning back, but opened to the marked page and starting from the top. “‘He was aware there were numerous wonders of this world’,” he read, “‘including the unexplained creations of humankind that showed the wonder of our ingenuity…’”

As the train finally picked up some speed, Becca closed her eyes and let herself get lost in the story and Ed’s steady voice until she finally dropped off to sleep.

Notes:

i hope you and your loved ones are all staying healthy and safe, and i'll see y'all in the next update! -c

Chapter 12: chrysalism

Notes:

happy freaking thursday my dears!

anyone know the tiktok sound that goes like: 'don't do it girl' 'i wasn't gonna do it, girl, i was just thinking about it'... 'i did it'? that was pretty much my thought process concerning the length of this chapter. i kinda started outlining and i said 'oh this is gonna be a long one'.

if you're not into character driven bits... sorry bout it. this one and the next one are gonna be pretty character driven, but hopefully after that we'll be at the fifth lab and things will become a little more exciting. the next chapter is also shaping up to be shorter just based on the outline, but i guess that'll just depend on how much i ramble.

in other news, we've been doing half and half school but we just passed 40 positive tests sooo... if this doesn't last longer, hopefully i'll have more time for writing. if it doesn't, i might have to slightly adjust the update schedule, but for real, this is the most positive/calming thing my life right now (esp interacting with my readers), so i really don't want to do that. as we must do with everything right now, i'm playing it by ear, and i'll try and keep y'all updated as much as i can.

chrysalism (noun)- the amniotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm, listening to waves of rain pattering against the roof

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Blue skies and green grass as far as the eye could see; that was how Becca would describe Resembool upon first impression. Occasionally, she observed, there’d be a dotting of white, either sheep or clouds, and Ed had been correct in his description that the buildings nearest to the train station were bigger than expected, but once they’d gotten off the cobblestone-paved roads and onto dirt paths, the little town was spread out over the entire Amestrian countryside. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Jeez, you’d think you’d never had fresh air before,” Ed said sarcastically.

“I mean, this is probably the only temperate wide open space I’ve ever been,” Becca pointed out. “Otherwise we’ve just been to cities or places like Liore, which aren’t nearly as nice.”

“I guess it isn’t hot right now like it is in the summer,” Al said. “In June and July it can be miserable.”

“Question: can we hang out outside if it stays this nice?” Becca asked, twirling around on the ball of her foot. “Follow up question: while outside, will I be able to pet a sheep?”

Al giggled. “You’ve really never been quite so out in the open before, huh?”

“I was sheltered, sue me,” she said.

“Lucky for you, most of the neighbors aren’t overprotective of their flock,” Ed said. “I’m sure you’ll get to touch a sheep.”

Becca pumped her fist gleefully. “This trip is already worth it.”

---

In Becca’s opinion, the trip got even better when she heard a dog barking excitedly. Yes, her heart rate might have spiked a bit, but when the thin, black dog with an automail from leg came jumping around Ed and pushing his snout into his hand, her heart slowed and she gave a breathy, relieved laugh.

“Who’s this?” she asked, bending down to offer a hand for the dog to sniff. She laughed again when she snuffled hurriedly, then jumped on Becca as well, letting Becca scratch around her ears and face, then down her neck and back. “I guess she’s pretty familiar with you guys?”

Ed patted the top of the dog’s head fondly, introducing, “This is Den, she belongs to-”

“Well, well, aren’t you two looking lively?” an old woman’s voice cut him off. Standing in front of a sign reading ‘Rockbell Automail’ near a two story house was an extremely short woman smoking a pipe. 

Ed grinned. “Granny Pinako,” he finished, then raised his hand and his voice in greeting. “We need your help again, Granny!”

The stout woman met them halfway, exasperatedly commenting, “Oh dear. What did you boys get yourselves into this time?”

“A lot has happened,” Ed said, shrugging. “We got a little banged up.”

“Banged up enough to need an escort, hm?” Pinako said skeptically. “I’m sure you’ll be willing to fill us in on everything over supper.”

Den woofed and ran over to Al’s box once Armstrong had hefted him off of his shoulder, so Becca straightened up, brushed off her pants, and stuck out her hand, remarking, “Yeah, I wouldn’t get your hopes up for that. I’m Becca Harper, Ed’s partner.”

“And this is Major Alex Louis Armstrong,” Ed said as the major rolled his shoulder to stretch it before offering the woman a hand as well.

Pinako shook with a surprisingly firm grip, introducing, “Pinako Rockbell, nice to meet both of you.” She turned to Ed, looking him up and down. Her eyes flickered between him and Armstrong a few times before she remarked, “And I know I haven’t seen you in a while, Ed, but- well, you’ve gone and grown smaller, haven’t you?”

Becca forced back a laugh as Ed grunted, forcing a patient smile. “That’s not how it goes, Granny,” he said through gritted teeth. “You’re supposed to say ‘look at how big you’ve gotten lately, Ed’.”

“But why would I say something that’s so obviously untrue?” Pinako shot back.

“I’m still taller than you, you mini-hag!” he snapped, taking a deep breath like he was going to go on a rant until-

CLANG!

Becca backed up quickly, tripping over Al’s box and landing hard on her back as Ed reeled and collapsed. It was only after Becca had poked her head over the edge of the box that she saw the weapon- a simple wrench, apparently thrown.

“Edward!” someone called from the top level of the house. Becca looked up to see a blonde haired teenager, coveralls tied around her waist and a green handkerchief holding her hair back, leaning over the balcony railing. Standing up slowly, Becca realized that this must be their automail mechanic, Winry, not a teenaged assistant or apprentice. A wrench being her weapon of choice was only one clue, but what sealed the deal was the casual, scolding tone she took so easily with Ed: “I thought I told you to call before coming for repairs!” A regular citizen wouldn’t dare mess with the famed Fullmetal Alchemist, at least not one they’d ever met, but a childhood friend rebuking one irresponsible Edward Elric? Fair game in Becca’s book.

“What the hell, Winry?” Ed shouted. “Are you trying to kill me or something?”

Winry laughed brightly, unfazed. “Welcome back, you two!”

Despite herself, Becca bit her lip against a small smile, holding back another laugh of her own, especially when she went to hoist Ed to his feet and caught the end of his resentful mutter of, “Yeah, right. Some welcome.”

Getting everyone inside was fairly easy, and Pinako was quick to offer them all drinks, insisting she had a pot of coffee going at pretty much all times with two automail engineers working frequent long hours. But then they had to pry Al’s box open, letting all the pieces they’d gathered from the scene of the fight with Scar from both Ed’s arm and Al’s body spill onto the carpet, and Winry let out a wail of despair.

“What did you do to my automail?” she demanded.

“Oh, yeah, it’s a little smashed up,” Ed said, taking a sip of his coffee.

“‘A little smashed up’, are you kidding? Look at what you did to my beautiful creation, I slaved over this arm!”

“Hey, we think we got all the parts,” Ed said defensively. “Right now, it’s just like what I had, just in smaller pieces… and mixed in with some of Al… and some of the parts are probably broken.”

Becca winced. Even she knew that was the wrong thing to say, and she couldn’t say she blamed Winry for hitting Ed with a wrench again.

“So, Al, are you a little smashed up too?” she questioned sarcastically as he cowered away from her. She sighed, kneeling down beside the pile of metal and starting to sort through them. “Just what are you guys getting into lately?”

“We were in a fight, so what?” Ed grumbled, hauling himself back onto the couch. “That’s not anything new.”

“Yeah, it’s been pretty normal lately,” Al agreed. However, his voice, already an octave or so higher than Ed’s, went up even more, a sure sign he was lying. Winry scowled, hitting Al with the wrench as well.

She huffed, affronted. “Gee. All you two ever do is worry me.”

Becca knelt as well, starting to sort a different part of the pile into parts from Ed’s arm and Al’s body. If she couldn’t fix them, at least she could make a little progress.

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I forgot to introduce myself,” Winry said upon noticing her. “I’m Winry, Winry Rockbell.”

“Becca Harper,” she replied carefully. “I don’t suppose I need to be concerned about…”

“This?” Winry asked, swinging her wrench proudly around her finger, then giggled, “Nah, that’s just for people who’ve earned it by being stupid.”

“Hey!” Ed protested. “Less talking, more building if you wouldn’t mind? We do actually have places to be.”

“We got a lead on the way here,” Becca explained, trying to quell Winry’s wounded look, then shot Ed a stern look. “There’s research that could help the boys restore their bodies in Central Library, so-”

“So you’re anxious to get there as soon as possible, huh?” Pinako asked, knocking some ash out of her pipe before pulling a stool over to measure Ed’s legs side by side. “I see.”

Ed looked away, looking a bit guilty as he tugged off the upper layer of his clothes until he was just in a tank top and undershorts. Becca took his extra things and hung his coat up on a hook by the front door, near where they’d put their shoes. “I- yeah. It’s kind of a rush order.”

Tutting, Pinako muttered, “Well, at least it’s not just your arm. Your leg needs some work too.”

“Oh, wow, you can grow,” Winry said mockingly. “Maybe your growth isn’t totally stunted.”

“Shut up!”

“Come on, Ed, I think she earned a couple jabs,” Becca said diplomatically.

“Don’t you go joining her side-!”

“Leg aside,” Pinako interrupted, tapping Ed’s knee as if to test a reflex. “We’ll have to start from scratch on the arm.”

Sufficiently contrite again, Ed kicked his other leg childishly. “Is there any chance you could have it done in a week?” he asked hesitantly.

Pinako rolled her eyes, blowing out a puff of smoke. “Come on, Ed, give us a bit of credit. Three days.” She crossed the room to an abandoned work desk, hiking a stiff temporary leg onto her shoulder. “Unfortunately, in the meantime, you’ll have to use this spare.”

The leg was fastened into Ed’s port, and, though he got up quickly, he only made it a few steps before stumbling. Becca was quick to swoop in and offer her arm for support, allowing him to steady himself. “I- uh- it’s a little hard to walk on a leg I’m not used to,” he said, cheeks a bit pink.

“With any luck, you’ll have your regular one back before you can get used to it,” Pinako said.

“Three days, huh?” Winry said to herself, picking up the abandoned leg in one hand and the parts from Ed’s arm wrapped in a piece of canvas in the other. “With designing, machining, assembling, and finishing… that’s three all-nighters.”

“I’m sorry for the trouble,” Ed said quietly. “I know you have other customers-”

Winry stopped him quickly, wagging her finger in his direction. “No, no, no, if you want to get to Central quickly, I’ll work my butt off to get you there! But you better believe you’re going to have a hell of a bill in rush order fees.”

Becca, still with Ed on her arm, nudged him teasingly. “So much for that deal.” she noted.

“Ugh, don’t remind me,” Ed said, rolling his eyes.

---

Pinako had forced everyone to sit down for a quick lunch before they all dispersed. Winry disappeared to her own workshop upstairs and her grandmother took over the dining room table. At Al’s suggestion, he, Ed, and Becca, followed by Den, decided to sit outside, both to take the time to rest as well as to get out of Winry and Pinako’s way. Armstrong helped them to lean Al against a spare barrel to be pecked at by some chickens, but ultimately decided that he’d earn his bed for the night and chop up some wood. Of the teens, on the other hand, Ed opted to sprawl out on his back in the grass, Becca flopped down next to him, and Den curled up between them.

“So this is really a break, huh?” Ed said petulantly. “We actually don’t have anything to do.”

“Isn’t it at least a little nice, Brother?” Al asked.

Ed set his jaw, then whined, “I don’t do ‘breaks’!”

“Oh, we know,” Becca said, reaching over to pet Den again. “You can hardly sit through a long train ride most of the time.”

A window creaked open from the top floor and Winry stuck her head out. “Hey, Becca?”

Becca sat up, tilting her head back to see Winry upside down. “What’s up?”

“Would you mind taking Den for a quick walk whenever you get a chance?” she requested. “I’d make Ed, but I think he’d get left in the dust.”

“Hey!”

Becca held up a thumbs up. “No problem!” she assured, turning to Den. “We’ll have a very good time, won’t we girl?” she said cheerily. Den panted happily, her tail wagging, and Becca scratched behind her ears a bit while laying back down.

“How are you already spoiling her?” Ed asked.

“I always wanted a pet when I was little, but we weren’t allowed,” Becca said. “My dad said they’d be too distracting.” She moved her hand under Den’s chin, making her drum one foot against the ground, and laughed. “And he might have been right,” she cooed. Den woofed again, hopping up, then shook herself wildly and trotted off down the path. “Though I guess we’re walking now,” Becca said, pushing herself back up. “You wanna come, Ed?”

Ed waved her off. “No, I’ll stay here,” he dismissed. “Winry’s right, Den would leave in the dust.”

She chuckled, waving back over the shoulder. “Alright, I’ll be back in a while then.” She jogged to catch Den, but the dog seemed to take that as an invitation to race and she ended up sprinting down the hill after her to the tune of Ed and Al’s laughter.

---

Thankfully, Den slowed down after she’d tired herself out and instead trotted near Becca’s feet, although she would occasionally bound ahead to terrorize a poor butterfly or rabbit. Becca almost had to laugh at the mundane scene. Just barely two days ago they’d been huddled in the streets of East City, each and every one of them on the staring death in the face, and yet here they were, living to fight another day. And another, and another. And with a little dog ambling along next to them nonetheless.

“What do you think, Den?” she said thoughtfully as they strode past the fence at the edge of the Rockbell property, “How much help do you think that info in Central will be?”

Den only snuffled against her palm in lieu of a response. Becca chuckled, then sighed, tilting her head back and letting the sun shine over her closed eyes. The feeling, while comforting, only served to remind her of Will, of his dark coat disappearing around the corner. “He was watching us, Den. Well, more watching me, I guess- but seriously, for months? Can you believe that? I mean honestly, doesn’t he have better things to do?”

(Past an open field. Past a barn. Past a flock of sheep grazing around a little pond.)

She sighed, opening her eyes, squinting against the bright sunlight and barely clouded sky. “...He saw Scar and… that whole mess.” Den nuzzled against the back of her legs as she continued to talk to herself, too busy to really take into account where she was being led.

(Her subconscious, however, was a different story.)

(Past a pair of men walking towards the flock of sheep, each chortling at them and patting Den’s head affectionately.)

“You think he would have stepped in or just… let someone else take care of me?” she wondered aloud.

Den barked.

Becca nodded wisely. “Yeah, I don’t think so either.” She couldn’t hold back a bitter smile, huffing loudly. “And look at me- trying to get advice from a dog.” The dog in question woofed again, sounding indignant, and Becca laughed tightly. “Sorry, girl. You’re very smart. I’m sure you’d be helpful if you could talk.”

(She blocked out the memory of a talking dog-

Big Brother Ed -

No, not yet. She wasn’t ready to face that yet.)

(Past a squat man and a donkey carrying a swath of hay.)

“He never did specify where he’d been living,” she continued after a few minutes. “He said he was with Ishvalans, but-” She stopped herself, then glanced down at Den, who was staring wide eyes back at her. “You’re right. I would have said that there weren’t any of them left, but obviously that’s not true.” She looked forward again, finally actually looking around. Apparently, she’d been talking to herself for a significant enough amount of time that the sun was starting to set. “Makes you think about how little you really know about the world.” She shook her head, trying to clear the melancholy mood that had fallen over her. She pasted a cheery smile on and asked, “Should we head home?”

Apparently agreeing, Den bent her nose low to the ground and took off, sniffing along the path back towards the Rockbells’ shop. Becca was quick to follow, trusting that she knew her way back better than Becca-

(Past an old woman with a cart full of flowers, and then… a little graveyard.)

-And then, at a fork in the road at the base of a hill, where Becca could see the Rockbell house, she suddenly took a wrong turn.

“Den- hey!” Becca protested. Even though she wasn’t moving particularly fast, Becca had slowed her pace from a brisk walk to more of  a leisurely stroll, and, as a result, it took her a few seconds to catch up and try to grab Den, and even then, the dog whined incessantly, straining in her arms until Becca had to let her go. She dashed ahead, then looked back at Becca. Hands on her hips, Becca only raised her eyebrow in response, but Den kept staring at her and she could practically see a wide-eyed, pleading expression like one that would be right at home on a child’s face, and then, before she could stop herself, “Okay, fine, but if anyone asks why we’re late, I’m blaming you,” and she was jogging to draw level with her.

The hill was steep, not enough to actually inhibit their progress, but enough so that she couldn’t tell exactly what was at the top until they’d nearly reached the crest. Once she’d seen it, though, Becca froze.

All it took was one look at the charred bits of wood sticking straight up, still just barely attached to their foundations, and she knew she shouldn’t be here.

Den barked insistently at her, evidently not sharing Becca’s hesitation at the scene. Becca shook her head. “No way,” she whispered (for it felt a bit wrong to raise her voice), then whistled lowly, tapping her thigh in an effort to get Den to come back. “Come on, girl, let’s go home,” she said in a faux light tone.

Looking as unimpressed as a dog could look, Den plodded back down the hill, and, for a moment, Becca thought that maybe they’d be able to turn around and leave like nothing happened, like she hadn’t seen the charred remains of someone’s humble home. Then Den looped around her, bumping the back of her legs, and suddenly she was stumbling forward with a strangled gasp.

“Bex?”

Oh, God.

Lightning quick, threads were connecting in Becca’s mind- the scorched wood and earth; the untended fence near the property line; the reason Ed and Al hadn’t returned to their home in years; and why, when they finally did, they stayed at a friend’s house.

And in the middle of it all, leaned up against the remnants of the large tree, his expression mirroring Becca’s as in they both looked like they’d been caught doing something wrong, was Ed. His braid was loose from the normal wear of the day and one sleeve of his coat hung empty at his side, but he still managed to stand.

“Ed, I-” She tried to think of something to say, but could really only land on the inevitable, “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know, and Den-”

His eyes, she suddenly noticed, weren’t angry, or hurt, or even just cross, though they did abruptly widen in surprise at the apology, then softened, a small, sad smile alighting his face. Becca blanched, but Den yipped and abandoned Becca in favor of jumping around Ed once she’d seen that he wasn’t upset. A little hesitant, Becca followed, hiking up the remaining few yards until she had taken up her normal spot on Ed’s left side.

“I really didn’t know you were up here,” Becca said after a few moments.

Ed let out a dry chuckle. “I believe you. I didn’t even tell Al I was coming up here, I was just- I was at our mom’s grave and I…”

“Wandered?” she suggested.

“Exactly.”

They lapsed into quiet once more. Even Den had grown solemn, sitting down and cocking her head at the former house. Slowly, Becca reached down, a little piece of burnt wood disintegrating as she picked it up. The remaining ash blackened her fingertips and she stood, biting her lip. Her admittedly obvious question hung in the air between them.

“We wanted to make sure we couldn’t backtrack on our word.”

“Huh?”

“Al and I,” Ed clarified. “We agreed. Until we regained our bodies and fixed our mistakes, we weren’t going to come back. So we decided we’d make it so we didn’t have anywhere to come back to,” he rubbed the back of his neck, averting his gaze from the wreckage to the ground, “and we burned it to the ground the day we got the news I’d received my certification. Not like anyone was going to be using it anyway.”

As he stared at where ashes had fallen from her hand, Becca turned, not enough to look at him straight on, but so that he wasn’t in her peripheral and she could truly read his profile. With the sunset casting a golden orange tinge on everything, he was practically glowing despite the sun being at his back. Not painfully like the sun off the desert sand in Liore either. Not even how she’d noticed her facial features or the details of Al’s helmet tended to sharpen in contrast to brightness washing them out. No, she decided. Ed looked… soft. Which was a strange word to assign to Edward Elric, who always seemed to project this aura of harsh edges and stern eyes- not always angry, but always hard, always guarded. 

(She knew it was rare to see him crumpled in defeat, but this side of him, she thought, was rarer. Pensive rather than fiery and proud. And what a privilege it was to be witness to it.)

Without thinking about it, she reached out, just barely touching as she entwined their fingers. Not quite holding his hand, but showing she was there. They stood in silence for a few seconds before he moved slightly to find a better grip on her fingers- still innocent, still careful. When she squeezed in support, he smiled hopefully, exposing half his face to the sun as he faced her fully.

(He was beautiful, she realized. And she didn’t even want to think about any implications of that beyond an aesthetic appreciation. No, thank you.)

She remembered long nights in the years after Will had left- struggling to keep up with the merciless lessons from her father and endless expectations from her mother while she tried to help with Louisa’s declining health, grief, and eventual death; the work leading up to the transmutation; the long, hopeless nights before she was summoned to East City, trying to make ends meet on the bare bones of her mother’s inheritance; staying up on the train and in her hotel room to prepare to plead her case, then trying to cram as much last minute studying that she could until the moment she entered the testing room. Through it all, she recalled, she’d always had to rely on lamps, whether it be the standard ones in military barracks, or the dim lights of the train, or the one with Louisa’s favorite stained glass lampshade that still sat on the long, scuffed oak desk Louisa had bought second hand and that Will and Becca had pushed into a corner of the living room alongside an groaning bookshelf, claiming it as their study. And they all seemed to share the same soft glow that Ed was almost emitting right now, pushing her through each night, each hardship. Sometimes frustrating, on the nights where she was desolate and disheartened and just wanted to give in and go to sleep, but always constant, and always there for her whenever she needed it.

The wind picked up and Den whined, startling both of them. Her gaze fell to their interlocked digits and she frowned a bit before gently prying her fingers away. Ed’s white glove had been tainted with dark ash from Becca’s fingertips, leaving a mark of where they’d touched. She flinched. Hopefully that didn’t become somehow symbolic.

She glanced back up, running an anxious hand through her messy curls, fallen clean out of their also messy bun that she’d slept in and making a note to run a comb through them when she got the chance, but shot Ed a small smile. “We should probably get back.”

Ed glanced back over the blackened remains one more time, but nodded. “Yeah. Everyone’s waiting.”

---

They’d set off quietly, both apparently lost in thought, and it wasn’t until they were at the bottom of the hill and the Rockbell Automail shop was within view that Becca finally broke it with a simple, “Hey, Ed?”

“Yeah?”

“Hypothetically,” she started, “if we were to run into Scar again, what’s the plan?”

Ed made a face, wrinkling his nose. “Well, not whatever happened last time. Mustang was right about one thing- we can’t let him kill us.”

“Glad to hear that option’s no longer on the table,” Becca noted sarcastically.

Ed stuck his tongue out at her, then continued, “Hopefully he heard about what happened with MacDougal and the Fuhrer in Central and he’ll steer clear-” Despite the warmth of the evening, Becca shivered remembering that interaction, “-but even if he doesn’t, I’m hoping we’ll be too busy with Marcoh’s research to be out in the city an excessive amount, and he’d be an idiot to infiltrate a military building with everyone on such high alert looking for him.”

“And I guess we’ll just keep trying to get stronger until we see him again?” Becca asked, confused. That was one downside to always being on the road. Of course, they sparred with each other, but you could only spar someone so many times before you got to know their style and it was more ‘fighting with Ed’ and less ‘preparing for a fight with a stranger who could blow your head off with a touch’.

“I was thinking about that the other day, and I wondered… maybe Al and I should try and contact our old teacher. She could definitely help us develop some new skills…” He gulped, playing with the end of his braid and going noticeably paler. “Assuming she doesn’t kill us first.”

Becca gave him the same strange look that always came when either brother talked about their teacher. They’d always express what seemed to be genuine fear before waving off any of Becca’s concern and assuring her that their teacher, one Izumi Curtis, was the best. She’d long since stopped trying to understand the boys’ relationship with her, but she wasn’t sure how much of a position she was in to judge, considering her mentor had actually tried to kill her, so maybe teachers like that weren’t overly out of the ordinary. She’d never touted him as “the best” of anything, though, and she couldn’t help a small pit of apprehension from forming in her gut at the prospect of meeting the Elrics’ teacher.

“You could hold off on that at least until after we’ve finished with Marcoh’s research,” she said instead. “Who knows how long that could take, and, from what you’ve said, your teacher doesn’t seem like she’d be all for unsure deadlines.”

Ed visibly relaxed, grinning brightly. “You are absolutely right! She would hate it if we told her we were coming and then we were late. Thanks, Bex!”

“That is not an excuse not to let her know before we come if we end up-”

“Oh, hey, do you smell that? Granny must have made stew-”

“Edward, you can’t just avoid the problem- don’t try and run with that leg, you’ll just end up-”

“Gah!”

Of course, picking Ed up from where he’d tripped due to his stiff leg with Den sniffing around him to make sure he wasn’t injured ended up drawing both Armstrong and Pinako outside, but they were all herded inside with minimal fuss at the prospect of a hot meal. Al was sat in the corner of the dining room/spare workroom judging by the bits of metal scattered around a cleared and set table, and Winry came down, exchanging a few words of pleasant, albeit hurried conversation with the rest of them while Pinako brought out- true to Ed’s nose- a hefty pot of stew before taking a bowl and heading back upstairs to continue working. And after the meal, when Becca’s offer to help wash up had been firmly rejected by Pinako, she and Ed were shooed off to one of the two spare rooms on the first floor- normally reserved for patients recovering from surgery, but functional as bedrooms, with bed pushed up against two opposite walls with a curtain that could be pulled around each of them for privacy purposes when there were actual patients- with firm orders to get to sleep. Arguably, those rooms were even plainer than the barracks, but they still felt… cozier, perhaps due to the family that occupied the rest of the house.

Someone had already moved their suitcases from the living room, each placed on one of the beds, and somehow, that small gesture set Becca over the edge. She couldn’t stop a fond smile from blooming on her face, and she said, “They’re so nice.”

“Yeah, they’re alright.”

As she pulled out her pajama pants, Becca decided she’d make something for breakfast tomorrow, assuming she’d be up earlier than everyone else anyway. However, for now, she just pulled the curtain shut so she could change. She usually kept the tight white undershirt she wore during the day on for sleep, though she had a few extras in case of any especially chaotic days where it might have gotten dirtier than usual, and exchanged her straight-legged trousers for a looser, softer material and her tan jacket for an old, plum colored knitted cardigan. She was in the process of carefully coaxing the hair tie from her hair with the thin end of a comb when she heard a small thump and a swear from the other side of the curtain and was on her feet in an instant, throwing the damn thing open to reveal Ed sprawled out on the floor, having successfully gotten out of his red coat but apparently stuck with his arm halfway out of his black jacket. Becca let out a breath, crossing the room to help him sit up.

Ed huffed, still trying to shrug the jacket off. “See, that’s what I hate about automail. It gets damaged and I can’t do a damn thing by myself.”

“You know you can just call and I’ll come help you, right? You don’t need to hurt yourself.”

He turned away and mumbled, “You were busy.”

Becca couldn’t help a small giggle. “Worst case scenario, you’d have to wait a few seconds until I was decent. I’d still help you.” He huffed again and she reached over, unbuttoning the clasp around his neck he couldn’t undo on his own so he could get the rest off himself. It bothered him more than he let on, being as vulnerable as he was, so she only helped where it was necessary. Undoing a buckle of his boot that he couldn’t quite reach here, a tug on the bottom of his pant leg there. Luckily, Ed usually just wore his own underthings to bed, so it was a pretty easy transition. Once finished, Becca pushed herself to her feet and grabbed her comb again to finally let her hair down. Armstrong dropped by on his way to his own room to let them know that Al had requested to stay the night in the living room so he could stay occupied with listening to the Rockbells’ radio.

“Should we go sit with Al?” Ed asked anxiously, trying to maneuver to his feet.

Becca, on the other hand, just tugged her cardigan tighter around torso and scooted to the end of her bed. “If he needed us, he would have asked Armstrong to get us.”

“But maybe he wants-”

“Edward, I’m sure he wants us to get a good night’s rest. And he’s probably having more fun out there with some music than in here by himself.” She leaned back against the wall and coaxed, “Go to sleep, Ed. We all need a peaceful night.”

Ed pouted, but slumped down onto his side. “I hate breaks.”

Becca reached over and flicked her bedside lamp off, dousing them in darkness before laying down herself. “It could be worse,” she said. “Al could be stuck with the sheep again.”

From the other side of the room, through the darkness, she heard Ed chuckled dryly. Saudade chords of an organ accompanying a woman crooning in Aerugian floated down the hall, luring them into sleep.

---

Actual food, Becca thought cheerily. The first to wake up, like usual, she’d pushed Al across the floor to join her in the kitchen while she made breakfast, and went ahead and changed the radio station from the sappy love songs Al had listened to all night to a more upbeat, big band sound appropriate for a sunny morning. Al was nodding his head to the heavy drum beat as Becca swayed along, giggling, whilst plopping some eggs into boiling water. She already had a teapot and a coffee pot going, and bread and butter were sitting on the counter, and Becca was just glad to have something more than cereal or train meals for once.

On the landing above, the floorboards creaked before Winry descended into view, rubbing her eyes. “This is refreshing,” she remarked, smiling tiredly. “It gets too quiet in the mornings with just Granny and I here.”

“Good morning!”

“Morning. Coffee?”

She smiled gratefully as Becca passed her a mug and the percolator. “Are you the only two up?” she asked, pouring an almost-full serving of plain black coffee and taking a long sip, then making up the difference, hinting at how tired she really was.

“Ed’s not exactly an early riser,” Becca said, “but I haven’t seen anyone else. That doesn’t necessarily mean they’re not up, though. The Major might just be chopping more wood.”

Winry grinned. “Yeah, I guess he doesn’t seem like the type to sleep in. Granny’s probably still in bed, but I guarantee she’ll be down to scold you for going through any trouble while you’re here.”

“Oh, no, I really don't mind. You’ve both been so nice, it’s the least I can do.”

“Plus, Brother practically lives on restaurant food and dry cereal everywhere else,” Al added.

Becca pointed at him with her spoon, emphasizing his point. “Exactly. I used to cook all the time, but we just don’t get the opportunity anymore.” She leaned back onto the counter on the heels of her hands and added, “So if you’ve got any requests-”

“I think Granny would have a heart attack if I asked you to cook for me,” Winry said, giggling.

“Hey, you’re the one doing all the work,” Becca retorted, a smile tugging at her lips. “If you’re putting in 3 all-nighters, you should at least have a few meal picks.”

Both girls chuckled. Al creaked, tilting his head. “It’s nice to see you two getting along.”

“Are you kidding?” Winry said incredulously. “How could we not? I’ve been the only girl around here for forever , Becca’s like a breath of fresh air.”

Warmth bloomed in Becca’s chest and she was unable to resist a bright grin from taking over her face. “Yeah, I love you guys,” she agreed, “but I’ve always thought it would be nice to have a girlfriend too.”

The kitchen timer she’d set for the eggs went off and, as she fished out the few she’d started with, two pieces of toast popped out of the toaster. Becca plated the small meal, handing it off to Winry, who stood up to take the plate, balancing it as she excused herself with, “I should probably get back to work, but thanks for making breakfast, Becca.”

Becca waved, then, just before Winry was about to leave, remembered a request. “Hey, Winry?”

“Hm?”

“Random question, but Ed and Al have already seen all my embarrassing pictures from when we visited my house, so do you have any…?”

Winry smirked evilly, gesturing Becca forward to whisper in her ear. “The bulletin board in the living room has some,” she murmured, “but if you want more, I can get them to you.”

Becca grinned. “I like how you think,” she said, pulling away. “I think this friendship is going to flourish.”

“Oh, boy,” Al said to himself.

---

Sure enough, Pinako did admonish Becca once she was awake, but that didn’t stop her from sitting down at the table with Al and taking a few hard boiled eggs and toast slices for herself, although she did force Becca to take a break and eat as well while she manned the stove and toaster. Armstrong had actually slipped outside, apparently at the crack of dawn given how early Becca naturally woke up, and had gone for what he called, “a daily regimen for rejuvenation passed down the Armstrong line for generations!” that Becca assumed was just a run around the community. And, within the hour of Armstrong’s return, Becca could hear the uneven footsteps of an automail bearer meandering down the hall.

Armstrong himself, as well as Pinako, had both long since disappeared from the kitchen- Pinako to her workroom to work on Ed’s leg and Armstrong back to his room for some military paperwork he’d brought along. Ed, rubbing his eyes and yawning, ambled past the kitchen doorway, then up the stairs. Becca raised a brow but didn’t interrupt him, instead just observing until she heard a door creak open upstairs, then a brief pause in the whirring of Winry’s tools, then a shouted, “Get out!” and the same door slamming. Becca covered her mouth, but shared a conspiratorial giggle with Al as Ed came back into view, clearly sulking as he plopped down at the table. She took a long sip of her tea, pushing a plate with about twice as much food as the others had eaten towards Ed while Al tried to help him.

“She said it would take three days,” he said pointedly. “So give her three days.”

“I know,” Ed mumbled, followed by a thanks to Becca, then complained, “I just keep thinking about that information waiting for us in Central, and I get so impatient!”

“You need something to do, Edward?” Pinako called from her workroom.

Ed blanched. “No, Granny, we-”

“Ah ah ah, you went for a long walk yesterday, you can walk down to the post office and get the mail! Go on!”

Ed groaned, but started on shovelling his breakfast into his mouth. Becca shook her head fondly, collecting the other dishes to start the washing and glancing around to see what else she could tidy up while the engineers worked.

---

Though Pinako finished Ed’s leg that day, Ed decided to wait until his arm was also done so he’d only have to go through the reattachment process once. Over the next two days, Becca, Ed, and Al rarely left the property. They occupied themselves reading, listening and making fun of dramatic radio shows, and doing chores (Becca voluntarily and Ed only when Pinako pressed). 

Becca cooked a few of the meals when she insisted and brought them up to Winry when she was too enthralled in her work to come down at a reasonable hour for food, and the two girls would take a few minutes to chat so Winry could eat before going back to work. A significant number of their chats included Winry showing off a few pictures from the past, filling Becca in on the stories behind them like Becca herself had done back in Adethal. She’d return from those visits with a smile on her face and teased both boys about Winry’s account, often to have them leap into contradicting the story she’d been told, leading to many conflicting tales between the two.

And so they continued, until, finally, Winry hurried downstairs, metal arm thrown over her shoulder and a smile streaked over her face. “It’s done!” she practically sang. “Ready to put it on?”

Armstrong took Al outside so Ed would have room to transmute him cleanly when he was able, and then everyone else, including Den, herded into the living room. Winry and Pinako took their places near each of Ed’s ports as he sank into the couch cushions and shrugged out of his tank top. A few feet away, Becca crossed her arms, rocking back on her heels as she carefully stood out of the way with Ed’s actual clothes. She knew he was anxious to get back into his full outfit, enough so that he’d let her braid his hair the day before, a feat that could normally only be accomplished after a particularly rough mission when he just didn’t have the energy.

“Bex? Could you come hold down this arm so I don’t hit anything when it connects?”

Becca looked up, then nodded quickly, settling near his left side and bracing her hands on his forearm. The engineers finished the superficial connections, leaving only the nerve to wire connections to finish. “Ready?” Winry checked in. Ed nodded with grit teeth, and Winry said, “We’ll get started then, on 3. 1… 2… 3!” At the last second, she and Pinako both twisted their wrenches, sending electrical currents coursing through Ed’s limbs. He jolted, groaned in pain, and Becca had to quickly push down to keep his arm still. As it were, his leg still shot out reflexively, but Pinako had sat far enough away that it wasn’t a problem.

Becca only let go when he relaxed. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Ed grunted, rolling his right shoulder. “I just always hate connecting the nerves, it’s the worst part.” He leaned back, tilting his head onto the wall behind him. “Once we get the Philosopher’s Stone, I’ll be able to kiss that pain goodbye.”

Becca pulled the thumb holes of her sleeves into their proper position, covering her wrist and palm so she could dab at the sweat that had sprung up on Ed’s forehead. “Soon enough.”

“We’ll be sad to see you go,” Pinako remarked from where she was tightening his leg. “You’re our biggest source of income.”

I don’t understand why you’d even want to restore your body. Isn’t having automail cool?” Winry said, twisting her wrench particularly hard and causing Ed to shout again. She stepped back, placing an adoring hand over her heart. “The smell of the oil, the hum of the bearings, the strong, beautiful form created through anatomical engineering… how wonderful automail is-”

Ed snorted. “Crazy gearhead.”

Winry froze, glaring pointedly at him. “Like you could do anything without me, alchemy freak.”

“Alright, that’s enough, you two,” Pinako said, standing up from her stool. “You’re done, Ed.”

Steadier than he had been the last few days, although, admittedly, still a bit shakily, Ed got to his feet and proceeded to do a few of his normal stretches to warm up the unused joints and muscles as the Rockbells clinically observed from the couch.

“Feel good?”

“Feels normal,” Ed said with a shrug.

“Now listen, this is important,” Winry started. “I increased the percentage of chrome in this one so it won’t rust, since you insist on skipping daily maintenance, but the tradeoff is that is isn’t as strong as it was, so don’t-”

The door slamming open cut her off and before anyone could react, Ed was gone, shot out the door presumably to find Alphonse, still in his boxers and shirtless. Becca sighed, bringing her hands up to her face. Vaguely, she could hear him apologizing for keeping Al waiting, which, she supposed, was sweet, but still, he couldn’t have waited a couple more minutes.

“So he shouldn’t do anything too crazy, I assume,” Becca continued from where Winry had left off. “Anything else I need to pass on once I get him to put on some pants?”

Winry rolled her eyes, popping a hip, clearly annoyed to have been shoved aside. “No, that was the only change I had to make. But I did want to tell him to actually respect this arm and not smash it to pieces?”

Becca laughed. “I can’t make any promises, but I’ll do my best to get him on board with that.” She nudged Winry towards the stairs, cajoling, “Now go take a nap. We’re leaving tomorrow, so I’ll wake you for dinner.”

As Winry nodded, her eyelids fluttering at the very mention of catching up on some sleep, they saw the telltale bright light that came with transmutations flickering through the windows and open door. They shared a glance, then separated, Winry headed upstairs and Becca, knowing what always came after Ed restored any part of Al’s body, stuck her head out the door and shouted, “Alright, Edward, now would you please put on some clothes before getting your ass beaten?”

---

“Why do you two always spar anyway?” Winry asked over dinner. Ed had come back in nursing a few bruises, and it seemed like even Armstrong had joined in on the fun since his head was shiny with sweat, and both had deigned to shower while Al reworked his finer motor functions by helping Pinako cut meat for dinner. Becca suddenly found herself with nothing to do and finally had a chance to really study the bulletin board full of pictures, including one with an older, golden haired man who was covered up until she moved a separate picture slightly to the left. She tilted her head and realized this must be the Elrics’ father; the man had only ever been mentioned in passing and she really just knew that he’d left when the boys were young, leaving a sore spot for Ed and an unlikely hope for Al. She jumped when Pinako called that dinner was ready and had let the other photo cover the man’s face once more.

“Our teacher always told us, ‘to train the mind, you must first train the body’,” Ed defended, mouth full.

“We spar pretty much any time we can,” Becca informed.

Armstrong nodded approvingly. “Your teacher is wise, Edward Elric. After all, a strong mind can only reside in a strong body!” He flexed, his shirt on the verge of ripping again. “Like so!”

Winry, on the other hand, groaned. “That’s just going to break your automail faster!”

“Fine by me,” Pinako said, chortling to herself. “Just means we’ll be making more money.”

“Not for much longer,” Ed chided, reached over to bump fists with Al, then Becca. “Tomorrow, we’re on our way to Central, and then I bet we’ll have a Philosopher’s Stone within the season!”

---

Although dinner was lively, the excitement of the day took its toll as the sun went down. Becca had curled up on the couch with a book she’d bought the last time they’d been to Central, something about a doctor and a monster, when Ed dragged his feet over and promptly dropped on the other cushion, then slumped over so he was face down near her thigh.

She raised her book, glancing down at him out of the corner of her eye.  “Hello.”

“Hey,” he replied, voice muffled.

Becca chuckled. “Tired?”

He propped himself up on his elbow, giving her a sour look of his own. “Automail attachment leads to fatigue.”

“Aww, poor Ed.” 

Like it was the most natural thing in the world, Becca let her hand slide into Ed’s bangs, brushing them off his forehead. He jumped, making her freeze, then settled. Slowly, Becca let her thumb run over his forehead, smoothing the wrinkles that always seemed to find their way because of his normal furrowed brows, while her other hand set her book in her lap so she could keep reading.

Before she knew it, Ed’s eyes were drifting shut. On a whim, she checked his torso, smiling slightly when she saw that his flesh arm had slid under his shirt, raising the seam just enough to barely expose his stomach like he always seemed to do.

Barking signalled Al’s return from taking Den for a walk, and it was only seconds later that the front door creaked open. The real miracle, Becca thought, was how Ed could sleep through Den’s claws skittering through the house, but he was a heavy sleeper, definitely more so than Becca.

Al peered into the living room, then sighed seeing Ed passed out as he was. “Brother fell asleep with his tummy out again. What are we going to do with him?”

“You’d think you were the older brother, Al,” Pinako said from where she was washing dishes. She dried her hands, flicking soapy water off, then came to lean on the doorway.

Winry, on the other hand, had disappeared down the hall and came back with the blanket from Ed’s cot. She draped it over him, then sat down on Becca’s other side. “Isn’t it weird to think about how someone as small as him is technically a ‘human weapon’? I mean, he’s only my age, and he’s just sleeping like a baby.”

“How old are you now?” Pinako asked.

“I’m 14, and Brother’s 15.”

The old woman turned expectantly to Becca, who started and added, “Oh! Ah- I’m 14 as well, ma’am. But I’ll be 15 in a little more than a month.”

“So you’re really in the same boat as him,” Winry said. “It’s kind of crazy…”

A little unnerved from all the attention, Becca swallowed, then wiped her palms on her trousers and got up, resisting the urge to bolt for the door. “I- I should probably make sure everything got packed up.” She dipped her head respectfully to the others in the room. “Thank you both for everything.”

And she let the door fall shut behind her, then paused. Armstrong, who’d disappeared after dinner, was hovering outside the door, looking a little shocked to have been caught. However, he didn’t shoo Becca away, apparently too enthralled in the continued conversation. Against her better judgement, she tuned in as well, just in time to catch Al’s murmured, “Thank you for treating us like family, Granny, Winry. I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done for us.” He hesitated for a moment, then said, “I know Brother thinks so too, even if he won’t ever say it.”

“It’s alright, dear,” came Pinako’s raspy response. “He doesn’t have to say it. We know he feels it too.”

Warmth rushed into Becca's chest and she leaned against the wall, smiling. She chanced a look over at Armstrong, only to see him dabbing at his eyes with a white handkerchief. Their eyes met and Becca gestured with her head towards the hallway where they’d all been sleeping. The major shook his head, but they shared a conspiratorial nod, and she knew that neither of them would be telling what they’d heard any time soon.

---

Once again, Becca was the first one awake the morning of their departure. As a result, she bustled about, checking all their bags for the third time. Something was missing…

She sighed. Of course, she’d left her book in the living room after her hasty retreat. It wouldn’t be the end of the world if she left it behind, but she was at a good part and wanted to finish the story, and since she’d remembered, she might as well go grab it.

Making sure to keep silent as she crept down the hall, Becca moved around the staircase, then pushed the door open to the living room. Pinako was already awake, perched on her stool, cleaning the spare leg Ed had been using. Becca froze.

“Good morning,” the woman said before Becca could back up. Although she didn’t look up, Becca could practically feel Pinako’s bespectacled gaze on her.

She coughed. “Good morning, ma’am.”

That time, Pinako did look up, unimpressed. “Honestly, dear, call me Pinako. Or Granny, everyone else does.” She hopped off her stool, picking up the pipe in the ashtray, then waved Becca inside. “Come in, sit. And tell me-” She blew a large puff of smoke, “-was everything alright last night?”

On her way to the couch, Becca startled, wide-eyed. “I- yes. Yes, of course, why do you ask?”

“You left rather quickly,” she said nonchalantly. “I do like guests to be comfortable in my house, so if Winry or myself said something, I’d rather apologize now than let it stew-”

Becca shook her head quickly, saying, “Oh, no, no, no, you and Winry have both been perfect,” before realizing the corner she’d backed herself into. She narrowed her eyes, sighing heavily. “I see what you did there.”

“Smart girl,” Pinako said, a small uptick in her lips.

“I’m- I really wasn’t uncomfortable because of you two,” Becca tried to explain. “I just- okay, maybe it was a little- I don’t know. You’ve just been so nice, and this has actually felt like a home, and… that’s just as disconcerting as it is reassuring.” She let out a large breath, her shoulders dropping like rocks. “Letting people in is usually hard,” she summarized. “But it- it hasn’t been, here, that is. My house hasn’t been this welcoming in years, so I guess I’m not used to it.”

Pinako raised an eyebrow over her large glasses across the room at her, then remarked, “Well, that’s hardly anything worth getting worked up about.”

“How do you mean?”

“The boys already see this as a second home,” she said, shrugging like it was the simplest thing in the world. “I see no reason you shouldn’t be able to as well. Even if it isn’t exactly like what you know, doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to find comfort here.” She leaned back, smiling kindly. “We don’t have to replace your family, Becca. We can always just extend it.”

Becca opened her mouth, then closed it quickly. “That’s… a really good way of looking at it, ma’am- Pinako, sorry.” She smiled hesitantly. “Thank you.”

“Of course, dear. The boys gave you our address, didn’t they?” Becca nodded, and Pinako hummed approvingly. “Good. Then you can write if anything is bothering you.” She thought for a moment, then, “And maybe if Ed and Al need anything as well. God only knows where the letters Ed claims he’s going to write end up.”

“Same place as the phone calls he says he’ll make before showing up randomly at your house?” Becca suggested.

Pinako laughed. “Maybe, maybe,” she said, standing up again and crossing to her work table. “Your book is on the mantle. Go ahead and wake Ed up. I sent Al to pick up groceries so you three wouldn’t have to have train food for breakfast.”

“That sounds… great. Thank you, Pinako.”

“See you in a bit, dear.”

---

Suitcases piled up near the end of the porch, Armstrong holding their train tickets and Ed clutching his travelogue with the note from Marcoh to his chest, everyone except Winry had gathered to say goodbye. The air was thick, both with fog and tension. Although they’d all been excited to find Marcoh’s research, the familiar nervous energy that always came with another possible lead was bubbling up in all of them.

“Alright, thanks for taking care of us Granny,” Ed said, tugging his glove over his automail.

“Until you break it again, then,” Pinako retorted.

“Is Winry coming down?” Al asked. “I’d hate to miss her.”

“She’s still asleep after all the all-nighters. Should I go wake her?”

“Don’t bother, she’d just blab about ‘taking care of my automail’ or whatever,” Ed objected.

“You should be taking care of your automail, though,” Becca said.

“Anyway,” he cut her off forcefully, picking up his suitcase to start down the dirt path, flanked by Al and Armstong, “see ya, Granny. Tell Winry we said thanks for going through all the trouble.”

“I’ll try and keep in touch,” Becca said, walking backwards to keep pace with Ed. “Let you know how this lead turns out.”

Pinako chuckled, blowing a neat ring of smoke from her pipe. “You all come back out here for dinner sometime, hear that?”

Both boys turned over their shoulder at that, Al with a little laugh and Ed with a fond eye roll. “Yeah, sure, we’ll make sure to come all the way up here for some dinner,” he said sarcastically.

“If he won’t take the offer, I will,” Becca volunteered.

Pinako laughed, Den barking in apparent agreement, before she waved them away. Started down the road, they were almost out of earshot when Winry’s voice rang over the fields. They turned one more time, only to see Winry flopped over the second floor balcony, waving tiredly to them. “Come back soon, okay?”

Becca smiled brightly and pivoted around fully to wave back with Al. Winry giggled, then pointed towards the horizon at Ed, who’d already walked away, only sparing a wave over his shoulder and a casual, “Yeah, sure. See you then,” for his mechanic. Becca and Al hurried to catch up, leaving Winry’s giggle to float on the wind.

Notes:

i hope you and your loved ones are all staying healthy and safe, and i'll see y'all in the next chapter. -c

Chapter 13: nodus tollens

Notes:

good afternoon, my dears!

so remember how i said this chapter might be shorter than the last... it's not really.

sorry bout it. i had some moments.

happy belated thankgiving to all y'all who celebrate, and happy holiday season! besides halloween, this is probably my favorite time of year, so that's definitely been motivating me to keep my spirits up and keep writing through the throes of college applications. i sent in all my current applications already, so fingers crossed i'll get into a few. wish me luck!

in terms of the next two chapter, i Promise these will most likely be significantly shorter if only because i've been so busy with college stuff. I might able to put the finishing touches on them and combine them into one mega chapter; if that's what y'all prefer, i can give that my best shot, but unless anyone has any specific yearning for it, that's my plan right now.

nodus tollens (noun)- the realization that although you thought you were following the arc of the story, you keep finding yourself immersed in passages you don't understand

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“We finally made it to Central!” Ed whooped, punching the air (and barely missing a pedestrian’s nose). Suitcase thrown haphazardly over his shoulder while Armstrong offered Becca his arm to disembark, he looked like the perfect picture of a grinning tourist. But Becca could see the slight tension in his muscles, the tightness of his smile, and could practically see the pent-up energy oozing off of him. Bouncing his leg the entire time he was awake on the train simply hadn’t been enough to calm him down, not that she thought it would be. This was their biggest lead yet, and could easily be the end of their search. “Come on, hurry up!”

“We’re coming, we’re coming,” Becca said, sharing an exasperated look with Al.

“Yeah, Brother, the library won’t run away,” Al added.

From the few other trips they’d taken up to Central, Becca knew that nothing short of a force of nature could part the crowds in the Central City train station.

Though, she supposed, perhaps a determined Edward Elric might fit in that category, sitting snugly between earthquakes and tornados. He didn’t even want to wait for Armstrong to make a call to Command to get a car and insisted the major just take them straight to the first branch. However, even he couldn’t stop Armstrong’s running commentary on the significance of the Central Library and its branches.

“The library boasts the greatest number of books in the country,” he was saying as they crossed Main Street. “There are so many you could spend hundreds of years reading nonstop and still not reach the end.” His chest swelled proudly. “Some might call it a beacon of knowledge for our country.”

They rounded the final corner and, in sync, their jaws dropped. The first branch of the Central Library was… gone. Burned to a crisp, and then a little more for good measure.

“Apparently not anymore,” she said quietly.

“What the hell happened?” Ed demanded. He stumbled forward, crouching in the ashes and letting a handful slip through his fingers.

“Major Armstrong, is that you?” a woman called frantically. Two uniformed military officials hurried over, one dark haired woman and one sandy haired man, and saluted to Armstrong as soon as they were within a respectable distance. He saluted back, though not with his usual gusto, and the woman winced. “Yes… we were trying to find you and warn you.” She gestured around hopelessly. “The first branch was burned down a few days ago, along with everything inside. Files, research, records, registries, all gone.”

Armstrong sighed, massaging his forehead. “Thank you for trying, Second Lieutenant Ross, Sergeant Brosh. I assume the investigations unit has taken this hit hard?”

“Yes, sir,” the woman, Ross, given her insignia, said. “We’ve been sent to relieve you of your duties and take over supervision of the Elric brothers and Rebecca Harper.”

“You must be the state alchemists, right?” the sergeant said, looking over at Al and Becca. “Your outfit matches your name, that’s so cool, Fullmetal! I’m Sergeant Denny Brosh.”

“And I’m Second Lieutenant Maria Ross, it’s an honor to meet you both!” the second lieutenant echoed.

Becca chanced a look over at Ed, red faced in Armstrong’s shadow, and said, “One for two,” as she raised a finger in his direction.

“It’s the little one?” Brosh asked. “But I thought-”

“I am not little-!” Ed snapped, then choked as Armstrong grabbed him, embracing him tightly.

“I must report to Central Command, Edward Elric!” he cried. Ed cried out as well as he was squished and Becca backed up a little closer to Al as if that would protect her if the major turned his attention on her. Indeed, it didn’t, since Armstrong just swept her and Al into his arms as well. Tears flooded down his face as he squeezed even harder. “I sincerely hope we shall all meet again soon!” He put them all on their feet, then patted them on the heads, and saluted slightly more enthusiastically at his subordinates. “Take care of them.”

“Why do we still have to have escorts?” Ed complained as Armstrong walked away.

“Scar- Scar has yet to be apprehended, according to East City’s last report” Ross stuttered, still shaken from Ed’s outburst. “Until that situation is resolved, we’ve been ordered to be your escorts. We aren’t as competent as Major Armstrong, but with you three all in working order again and our combat capabilities, we should be okay, so please don’t worry.”

“Yeah, I’m apparently the only one who’s not worried,” Ed grumbled.

“You’re supposed to say ‘thank you’, Brother,” Al chastised. 

“There’s a car waiting over here,” Ross said firmly, cutting off what would probably be a solid round of bickering from Ed, who desperately needed to let off some steam. “Maybe we could go see if there’s any of the information you were looking for is at one of the other branches.”

Becca knew it wouldn’t be. There was only one copy, and, unless someone had taken the time to move all the research to another spot, it was incinerated. But, with a glance at the brothers, she also knew they couldn’t bear to give up on their most promising lead yet. They had to exhaust all possible angles before giving up again. So she nodded curtly and was first in the car, thankfully meaning that she didn’t have to get stuck in the middle seat. A driver was waiting, but barely extended a greeting, and Ed was still moping about the library’s destruction. So Ross and Brosh were left to simply stare at Al in the silent car. They’d only driven a mile or so when Al finally, awkwardly, asked, “Is something wrong?”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Brosh said, flushing bright red at being caught. “If you don’t mind me asking, though- why do you wear that armor?”

The brothers both went stiff. Ed forced a smile as they chorused, “It’s part of his training.”

Becca resisted the urge to drop her head in her hands as Ross and Brosh’s eyebrows flew up and they launched into a slew of fervent whispers behind their head and instead flashed a sweet smile before pointing out the side window. “Oh, look, there’s the main branch. Let’s go check it out. Excuse me! Stop the car, please!”

---

While the employees at the main Central Library weren’t able to help them outright, one private had given them a tip on a woman called “Sheska”, who lived nearby and was enough of a bookworm that she might be able to definitively remember if Marcoh’s notes were even in the library to begin with or if, as Becca had suggested on the way out, Marcoh might have just sent them on a wild goose chase or scavenger hunt of some sort. Whatever the next step turned out to be, it apparently lied within a plain block of apartments.

Brosh knocked on the door the landlord had directed them to a few times to no avail. “You think she’s out?”

Before Becca could stop him, Ed tried the handle. The door creaked open, revealing piles upon piles of books inside. It was impossible to make out even the layout of the living space inside because the books had formed hallways of their own.

It was a little impressive.

“Are we sure someone lives here?” Ed said rhetorically, picking around some of the smaller stacks around the door. “There’s gotta be a million of them!”

“Ms. Sheska?” Ross called out. “Are you here?”

They edged around the apartment, looking for any sign of life. The second lieutenant led the way with the sergeant practically clinging to her arm, Becca and Ed close being. Alphonse, being as big as he was, brought up the rear. So when he stopped, no one else noticed until he nervously said, “Um, guys?” They turned to see him pointing down one of the book-laden corridors, specifically at an unorganized, fallen pile. “I think someone’s under there!”

It was only then Becca noticed the hand sticking out of the pile. “Oh, my God.”

“Dig!” Ed shouted, practically leaping over Becca to get to the pile.

Luckily, it only took a few minutes to unbury an apologetic young woman who almost immediately threw herself down at their feet, bowing so low she almost banged her forehead on the floor. “I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Thank you so much! I knocked over a pile of books and got myself stuck! I thought I was going to die under there!”

The others, however, were still in a state of shock. Breaths ragged, Ed gave a small, “No problem…” He leaned back from where he’d been crouched on his heels so he could sit criss-crossed on the floor. “I assume you’re Sheska? You worked at the first branch of the library?”

They all jumped when the woman cringed at the question, crying out as if she was in pain. “Oh, the library! The word itself is so beautiful! I loved that job at the first branch since I’ve loved books ever since I first learned to read as a girl, but I forgot I was supposed to be working, and all I ever did was read, so they fired me!” She folded in on herself even more, lamenting, “If I can’t find another job, I won’t be able to put my sick mother in a better hospital! But I’m hopeless, I can’t do anything other than read! I’ll never find another job, it’s impossible for a useless lowlife like me-!” The poor woman dissolved into sobs. Becca’s eyes flicked between Sheska and her companions, wondering if someone was going to comfort her. Ed held up a hand, then stepped forward.

“Um, Miss?” he interrupted. “We actually had a question for you.”

“Edward,” Becca hissed, “she’s upset, you could at least-”

“No, go ahead, what did you need?” Sheska said, wiping her tears away easily. “You saved my life, it’s the least I can do.”

“Do you remember seeing any notes by someone named Tim Marcoh?” Ed asked hopefully, though what he was hoping for, Becca couldn’t be sure. If Marcoh’s work wasn’t at the first branch, it meant they’d been tricked. If it was, it meant they couldn’t get to it anymore.

Sheska hummed, tapping her chin. “Marcoh… Tim Marcoh,” she murmured to herself, then brought her fist down on her open palm. “Yes, I remember, I’m absolutely positive those were the handwritten notes I found shoved in on a shelf where they didn’t belong. That’s why I remember them so clearly!”

“So they were there after all,” Becca said, hope blooming in her chest before the true implications of Sheska’s words came crashing down. “And they were destroyed by that fire just like everything else in the library...”

Ed and Al drooped at the same moment she did, their heads hanging dejectedly. “So much for that lead,” Al said, getting to his feet. “Sorry for wasting your time, but thanks for letting us know.”

“Did you want to read them?” Sheska asked innocently.

“Yeah, but they’re just ash now. We got here too late,” Ed grumbled.

Ross was escorting them out when Sheska weakly suggested, “I could try to recreate them, if that would help?”

Becca stopped, looking over her shoulder. “What do you mean by that?”

“I remember everything in them,” she said as if it was obvious.

The three teenagers looked at each other, then quickly back at Sheska. In unison, they breathed, “Huh?”

“It’s just how I am! I can remember every book I’ve ever read, word for word!” she said defensively. “It might take some time, but I could write out another copy-”

“Yes, please!” Ed said, grasping her hand. Al was practically dancing from how hard he’d started shaking with excitement, and one look down at her hands proved Becca wasn’t much better. “Thank you, bookworm! You’re a lifesaver!”

“You’re… welcome?” Sheska replied weakly.

Ed drew away quickly once she’d agreed, hustling the rest of them out the front door. “Come on then, let’s let the nice lady work! Bye bye, now!” he called, then slammed the door and cheered, high fiving both Al and Becca. After so many false leads as of late, it was nice to finally feel like things were actually going their way.

---

That feeling lasted about five days. Then Sheska had called them back to show them a stack of cookbooks. Becca thumbed through them, reading some of the names aloud. “‘1000 Easy Recipes’, ‘1000 More Easy Recipes’, ‘Another 1000 Easy Recipes’, ooh, this one’s really mixing it up- ‘1000 Not-So-Easy Recipes’.” She sighed. “Dr. Marcoh might have been a great alchemist, but he sure as well wasn’t very creative.”

“Ma’am, what part of you thought these might be important government documents we needed to recover?” Brosh asked incredulously.

Sheska withdrew, looking hurt. “I only wrote the notes down as I remembered them! Is it not what you were looking for?”

Becca picked one of the sheafs of paper, the one labelled ‘1000 Simple Recipes’ and flicked through the pages. “There’s not even 1000 recipes in here,” she said. “Which is weird because we know Dr. Marcoh can count.”

Ed stilled. “How many are there?”

“He got close, but they’re only labelled up to number 903,” she responded, checking another one. “But that’s better than ‘1000 Easy Recipes’. That one only gets up to 212.” She paused, blinked, then raised her eyebrow, grabbing a different set and flipping straight to the last recipe. “Oh, I see… let me just- yeah, okay. ‘1000 More Easy Recipes’ has 218.”

“Sheska, are you sure this is exactly what Dr. Marcoh wrote? Word for word, you said?” he confirmed.

“Absolutely! I’m positive!”

Ed grinned, picking up a stack of notes. “Great. Thanks so much, you’re really incredible. Al, Bex, let’s get these back to the main branch, I’m sure they’ll have a spare room we can use.”

“And lots of dictionaries and alchemical texts,” Al added, nodding along. He loaded a few stacks into Brosh’s arms, then took the rest for himself, leaving Becca with the three she’d already been holding.

“Don’t forget Sheska’s fee, Ed,” Becca said. 

“Right, uh…”

“Here let me take those-” 

She stacked Ed’s notes on top of hers to allow him to rip a page from his travelogue and unhook his State Alchemist watch from his belt. “Lieutenant Ross, this is my registration code and the watch should serve as ID. I need you to go to the State Alchemist office, withdraw that amount from my annual research grants, and make sure it gets here.”

“I- of course. I’ll get on that right away, sir,” Ross agreed awkwardly. 

“Well, Sheska, thanks a lot! Good luck finding a job!” Ed chirped as they left the apartment. “Bye!”

Ross didn’t open the folded paper until after they’d already left- that would be rude, after all- but they all knew when she did. Through the admittedly thin apartment door and walls, they could clearly hear her shocked yell of, “How does a kid like that have this kind of money to throw around?”

Ed rolled his eyes. “I’m not throwing it around,” he said indignantly. “It’s my research fund. I am researching.”

---

Brosh managed to hold his questions until they were set up in a study room at the main Central Library, but it was obvious he was almost bursting by the time they’d shut the door behind them. “So what exactly do cookbooks have to do with alchemy?”

“People have this misconception of alchemy, that it’s like magic and can fix all their problems. But it’s actually an extremely powerful art,” Ed explained.

“Which can be extremely dangerous when placed in the wrong hands,” Becca added.

Ed gestured her way and nodded. “So alchemists always encrypt their research using metaphors, symbols, ciphers,” he continued, “in order to prevent that. What might look like recipes to us right now are actually highly sensitive, likely incredibly important alchemical notes. It all comes together into a code that only the person who wrote it can easily understand. Becca noticing the numbered recipes tipped me off- 903 is the sum of the atomic numbers in the lanthanide series, same with 212 for the alkali metals and 218 for the alkaline-earth metals. Those recipes might have ties to their corresponding elements.”

“So how will you decipher them?” Brosh asked.

“By using all our knowledge and maybe doing a little research of our own,” Ed answered, shrugging. “It’s not going to be easy, but we never thought it would be.”

“Hypothetically, culinary notes should be easier than some other types of note-taking,” Al said as he joined them at the table with a stack of books. “Alchemy and cooking are pretty similar after all- they’re both very exact sciences, and some old stories even say that alchemy was born in a kitchen. But something like Brother’s code might be harder to break. He uses his travelogue, and I probably couldn’t decipher it if I tried.”

“I’ve been faking a gardening guide ever since I was old enough to know how to encrypt,” Becca said. “My dad made his notes look like a teacher’s notebook, even after he stopped teaching. And I happen to know that Colonel Mustang codes his notes as a record of dates he’d supposably gone on.”

“That sounds really complicated…” Brosh said.

“It is,” Ed noted. “But we’ve done some intense research before and we can do it again. Let’s split these stacks up and start taking notes.”

---

As it turned out, six days of nonstop reading, writing, and organizing didn’t always leave one’s mind in the best spot, especially when, apparently, the universe just wanted to use one’s own health issues against them and screw everything up. Still, she figured she should be able to catch a break. They were sleeping for a few hours a night in the dorm room, eating… regularly enough. Maybe they were playing a little fast and loose about what was technically healthy, but this was important, dammit!

“No…” she moaned, burying her head in her pillow. “Not today, not now…”

Becca hated headache days. They weren’t exactly common, but once every few months or so, one would spring up out of nowhere. She always knew from the moment she woke up that that day was not going to be fun when she felt the oh-so-familiar splitting pain in her temples. She’d been lucky since the one during the MacDougal incident since all of them had happened on days where they were either on a train or able to spend a day relaxing in a hotel or dorm, and she supposed she probably could take the day off, but it wasn’t a matter of being able to. It was a matter of being useful and fulfilling her promise to help the Elrics. So pain aside, she was getting out of bed and into that library if it killed her. Just as soon as her vision stopped going spotty.

“Bex?”

She flinched away from Ed’s voice, the pain spiking.

“Oh,” he said, lowering his voice significantly. “Sorry.”

“No problem,” Becca mumbled. She pushed herself up in bed, rubbing her eyes, and swung her legs over the edge (if she had to brace herself from the waves of dizziness that followed, well, that was her business). She got to her feet, swayed a bit, but managed to make her way over to the table. Ed followed at a distance, though when she sank into a chair, she heard him moving as quietly as he could to the kitchenette, then the slight clinks of a kettle on the stove and the click of the stove being lit. “You don’t have to do that. Just- just give me a sec.”

“No, stay there,” Ed ordered, sitting down across from her. “It’s okay, I don’t mind. Please don’t pass out.”

She rolled her eyes, then winced. “That was one time.”

“Maybe you should stay here and rest today,” Al said quietly.

“No way,” she protested. She propped her head up on folded elbows despite the pain that threatened to spill over at the motion. “I can power through, I always do.”

The Elrics exchanged glances. Becca couldn’t help but pout a bit, knowing they were practically discussing her at length, until Al folded. “Fine, but you won’t overexert yourself too much, right?”

“Of course not,” she assured. “It’s not like we’re going to get into trouble today. We’re just reading.”

Ed huffed. “Knowing us, we’ll somehow find trouble doing that.”

“Sure, Ed,” Becca said, shooting Al a knowing look.

Al chuckled. “That’s always a ‘we’ situation.”

---

“I know I wanted you to come, but come on, Bex, take a break, please,” Ed said when she stood up for another book and had to sit down for fear of toppling over. "You look like you're going to be sick."

“I'm fine," she gritted out, steeling herself. "I just need a moment.” Al had left the room in search of some cookbooks so they could compare Marcoh's recipes to their legitimate counterparts, leaving Becca and Ed to finish up their list of possibly relevant ones to check. And to do so, she needed to see Alkemic Artes by Commodus. “I'll take a break when you do,” she challenged.

“Fine!” he snapped, closing his book firmly.

She blinked. She hadn't thought he'd actually do it. Dejected, she huffed and sat back down, laying her head on the table. "Remind me to pick up some more teabags when we go to a store next."

"Are you out?"

“Not yet, but I'm running low." She adjusted her position to fix Ed with a look, "Oh, wait, you still owe me for scaling that church in Liore, so you need to remember.”

He laughed. "Yeah, sure, and ginger snaps."

She sighed and closed her eyes. "I'm sorry. This is such an inconvenience. I just-I couldn't stand staying in the dorm being useless while you guys-"

"Hey, no," he cut in. "You haven't been useless this whole time, and taking time off because you're sick isn't being useless."

“That's rich, coming from you." Becca changed her voice to mimic what his irritable rasp from a few months ago when he’d had a runny nose and dry throat, “‘No, Becca, I’m not sniffling, shut up!’”

Ed shrugged. "Do as I say, not as I do." He stretched, flicking his notebook open. "And I say you should take a nap. I'll wake you up in an hour or so."

She opened her mouth to object, only to bury her head in her hands as the pricking pain swelled again. "Fine. But wake me up."

"I will."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Narrowing her eyes suspiciously, she reached over and grabbed his automail arm, then laid her head on his palm. To guarantee that he'd wake her up since he couldn't work one-handed, certainly not to leech the pleasant cold that emanated from the metal limb. 

Although she tried to stay at least half-awake, she didn't even remember staying conscious to hear Al return the room. The next thing she remembered wound up being that Ed could be a dirty, dirty liar when he wanted to be. She came to, still resting on Ed's open palm, but he'd managed to arrange himself so he was able to write notes, flip pages, and even take drinks of water with his left hand, leaving his right palm up under her head. Becca sat up, rubbing her forehead and glaring.

“You,” she grumbled, “are the worst. What time is it?”

Ed shot her a triumphant grin. “3 in the afternoon. How do you feel?”

She looked away, setting her jaw stubbornly. “Better,” she admitted begrudgingly. It wasn’t a lie, she could definitely still feel throbbing along the edge of her mind, but it reminded her of when the headache was near constant- annoying and occasionally overwhelming, but manageable instead of wanting to split her head open. She picked up her abandoned mug, then was surprised to feel that the tea inside was still warm.

“Al reheated it when you started waking up,” Ed explained, nodding over at his brother, who was standing with his back to them as he studied a chart they’d drawn and pinned up a few days ago.

Becca took a long sip, smiling softly. “Thanks, Al.” She bumped Ed’s shoulder and said, “And thank you.”

Ed playfully nudged her back, then picked up the book he’d been reading. “So here’s the rundown of what we’ve done today, check this out.”

---

Al made them stop early that day, citing a worry that Becca’s headaches would worsen or persist through their usual length of one day if she didn’t get a goodnight’s sleep. But that just meant they were back bright and early the next morning.

Thanks to her nap yesterday, Becca felt almost renewed, but the week was starting to take its toll on the boys. She’d gotten up to find a book someone else had thrown aside, then returned to find Ed and Al facedown on the table. She started, fear spiking briefly, until Ed groaned quietly and flopped from his forehead to his cheek. “Why is this damn code so hard to figure out?”

“Why can’t we just go back and ask Dr. Marcoh directly?” Al complained.

Ed scowled, propping himself up on his chin. “Because that would be admitting defeat! No way!”

“So it’s a competition now?” Becca asked. She set the book down alongside a stack of others and perched on the edge of the table. “In all seriousness, I doubt he’ll tell us. If we can’t crack it on our own, Marcoh might just say we aren’t ready to create the stone.”

“Yes, exactly-”

A click cut off the beginnings of their bickering and drew their attention to where Sheska was standing awkwardly in the doorway. They all froze, then sat up quickly. “Sheska,” Ed greeted casually. “What’s up?”

“Come on in,” Becca invited. “Sit down.” She cleared an unused chair of a few crumpled pieces of paper and gestured for the young woman to join them. Sheska obliged, though she didn’t look totally comfortable as she wrung her hands in her lap.

“I just wanted to come by and say thank you to you, Edward,” Sheska said. “Because of the money you gave me, I was able to move my mother into a wonderful hospital. I really appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it,” Ed said, waving her praise off. “I was just paying you for doing a job. Fair and square.” He smiled weakly. “Besides, when you think about how much this data’s probably worth, you gave it to us pretty cheap.”

“Have you managed to make much progress?” she asked innocently.

Ed’s face fell, Becca grimaced, and Al sighed. Those were all answers enough. Sheska chuckled. “Sorry…”

“How’s your job hunt going?” Al asked.

Sheska averted her eyes in shame. That was answer enough.

“Oh, well,” she said, her tone forcibly light. “You, at least, made me feel better. It was nice to know that even a pathetic, good-for-nothing mess like me can help people sometimes.”

“You’re not a pathetic mess,” Al said. “The dedication you show to reading is a talent all on its own, and so is trying to do your best while staying true to yourself.”

“Plus your memory is incredible!” Becca praised.

“You should have more faith in yourself,” Al advised earnestly. “There are some amazing people in this world, and I think you’re one of them.”

Sheska blinked. A small smile graced her face. “Thank you, Alphonse.”

“Yo!” a familiar voice singsonged, the door slamming open.

Becca sat up straighter, wide-eyed, but relaxed when she saw it was just Hughes. “Lieutenant Colonel Hughes, what are you doing here?”

“More like what are you three doing here ?” Hughes asked sternly. “I had to hear from Major Armstrong that you three were in town…” He slammed his hands down on the table, making Becca jump, then grinned. “What gives? I told you to give me a shout when you made it up here.”

“Oh,” Ed said, a little bashful. “Yeah, sorry about that. We’ve been a little sidetracked.”

Hughes laughed. “I guess it’s just as well. I’ve been pretty busy too, so I don’t even know how much I’d actually get to see you. We’ve had so many cases piling up, not to mention how we haven’t been able to wrap up the Tucker case without Scar-” The energy in the room noticeably dipped and he winced. “Sorry. I imagine those aren’t good memories.”

“Did you just come to visit us?” Al asked. “We wouldn’t want to disrupt your work.”

“Nah, I needed a break,” the lieutenant colonel said flippantly. “Ever since the first branch burned down, everything has gotten ten times more difficult since we kept all our old case records and registries there. Doing much of anything has been difficult, to say the least, and right when things have gotten really busy for us.”

Becca’s head swivelled, once towards the boys, then, as one, they all looked over at Sheska.

Say something, Becca willed her. She nodded encouragingly.

“Me?” she said incredulously. “Well, I guess I did read the military’s files, and I do remember them all, but-”

Hughes only seemed surprised for a brief moment, but he quickly grinned, grabbing poor Sheska by the hand and dragging her towards the door. “That’s all I need to hear! You’re hired, lady, let’s go get you set up in the office! Don’t worry about a thing, we pay very well-”

“R-really? You want me to-” Sheska’s face lit up. “Thank you! Thank you so much!” She waved over her shoulder at them, promising, “I’ll have more faith in myself from now on, and I’ll try my hardest to make something of myself! Thank you!”

Ed, Al, and Becca all waved back. “1000 cenz says she won’t be thanking us for long,” Ed muttered through his teeth.

“I’m not taking that bet,” Becca said, giggling.

Ed fell back onto the desk, voice slightly dulled. “What was that you said, Al? ‘The dedication you show to reading is a talent all on its own, and so is trying to do your best while staying true to yourself’?” He raised his chin, sticking a pen in his mouth. “Not bad, little brother. Very smooth.”

“I’ve always said he has wisdom beyond his years,” Becca remarked proudly.

“I don’t know, it’s just what I always think when I see a certain someone,” Al said, propping himself up to give Ed a look that even Becca could tell was nothing short of adoring.

She gently patted both of them on the head. “Sappy,” she teased.

Ed huffed out a laugh and shoved her away. “Right. And that certain someone needs to get back to work, or you’ll have to come up with a new motivational speech.”

Al laughed, pleased. “Right, Brother.” He returned to the book he’d been lazily flicking through with renewed vigor. Becca shook her head fondly, getting back to work as well.

---

Ten days. They’d been working for ten days and today was the first day it felt like they’d actually made any progress. Finally, spanning over at least ten of Marcoh’s note packets, they’d been able to slowly assign percentages to the elemental components of the Stone. They’d split the work into 3 parts, and so far, Becca had decoded miniscule amounts of cobalt, iron, and copper, but there was a lot more work to be done. Their playful banter had ceased sometime around noon the day before, and they’d continued to work in near silence.

“Hey, Al?” Ed said quietly. “What elements have you figured out so far?”

“I have… oxygen, nitrogen, and phosphorus.”

“I’ve got carbon, potassium, sulfur, and magnesium,” Ed said.

Becca’s brow furrowed as she scrutinized her own list. She read the elements out loud as well, then glanced up, her eyes meeting Ed’s stricken gaze. Nervous energy pooled in her gut as she recalled a similar list of all their elements combined. “You don’t think-?”

Ed grabbed for a spare piece of paper, frantically scribbling out some notes and calculations. He passed it to Al, who did the same then passed it over to Becca. She wrote her own equations out, then did some quick math with Ed over her shoulder; no doubt, he was doing the same thing. They shared a look.

“We’ve got to finish the calculations,” Al said urgently. “We’ve got to double check.”

Wordlessly, Ed snatched the remaining journals. Becca sat back, knowing he had to be the one to finish this, though she kept a careful watch over him, his tight shoulders, his taut frame. He frantically jotted down the numbers, though he did most of the math mentally, working quickly now that he knew what he was looking for. “It’s all proportional,” he whispered, then, “it all makes sense.” He pushed his chair back quickly enough that it clattered to the ground. Apparently, that didn’t ease his frustration, so he shoved the table as well, scattering their organized stacks with a shouted, “Dammit!”

“Ed, calm down, let me see,” Becca said sternly, the pit growing in her stomach.

“No!” he snapped, slamming his automail fist into the wall. He looked up, a wild look in his eyes on display through his bangs. “You- you can’t-”

The clock chimed outside, throwing them all into silence again until Ed let out a howl of rage, falling to his knees. Their door slammed open, Ross and Brosh both waving their guns. Although they put them away after verifying it was just the five of them in the room, Becca couldn’t help but notice how Ross’s hand still hung near her pistol as she chastised, “Are you three fighting? Even if the work is hard, throwing things isn’t going to help-”

“We don’t need help,” Al said brokenly. “We solved Dr. Marcoh’s cipher. We broke the code and discovered how to make a Philosopher’s Stone.”

Brosh frowned. “Well, I thought that was supposed to be good news.”

“There’s nothing good here,” Ed ground out. “He was right, this is the devil’s research.”

“It’s disgusting,” Becca agreed, looking to Ed, trying to gauge his level of anger. She knew the anger was usually a cover for something else, whether it be sadness, disappointment, or disgust, but it was very rare for him to react in genuine anger. “I think… whoever burned down the library was right. This should have been destroyed.”

“What do you mean?” the sergeant asked.

“We’ve done all the math and it all works out,” Ed mumbled. “The main ingredient to the Stone… is human lives.”

Becca’s heart dropped. She knew it’d been coming, but hearing it somehow made it worse. Ross and Brosh both recoiled in horror.

“With these numbers,” Becca said to herself, numbly thumbing through the pages, “you’d need to… sacrifice multiple people to make even one Philosopher’s Stone.”

“That’s horrible!” Ross interjected. “How could the military authorize research into something like that?”

Ed huffed, dragging himself up from the ground, eyes still trained on the ground. “Listen to me,” he said quietly. “Ross, Brosh- I want you two to forget about this. Pretend like you never heard the ingredients of the Stone.” He kicked a crumpled up ball of paper across the floor. “It’s what it deserves.”

“But-”

He wrapped his arms around himself, tense all the way through his shoulders. “Please,” he whispered. Ross and Brosh exchanged a look, then a nod. Ed shuddered. “Let’s go back to the hotel.”

Becca shared a worried glance with the two officers and said, “I’ll clean up here.”

Ed’s head snapped up. “Bex-”

“I’ll stay and help you. Brosh, take the boys back to the hotel.”

Ed opened his mouth to argue, but Al’s hollow voice cut him off. “Brother, we can’t just leave it here. Anyone could find it, you know how dangerous that would be.”

He looked pained, but bit back any arguments. Instead, he just mumbled, “Destroy them for us, okay?”

“Will do. Go get some rest.”

With the boys gone, Becca turned to the stacks of loose paper littered around the room. Ross sighed from next to her. “I’m guessing we can’t just throw it away?”

She shook her head. “If I could, I’d burn it all like whoever did at the first branch. But other than that, the quickest and least destructive way I know of is bleach. Could you ask a librarian if they have any? Maybe in a custodian’s closet or something?” 

Ross nodded, but narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Stay here.”

“I will,” Becca promised. Once the door had shut behind her, though, she crossed the room and picked up the piece of paper Ed had done the final calculations on from where it had been thrown onto the floor. Eyeing a candle that one of them had lit when the light they were reading by had gone out and never bothered to blow out, she ripped the paper into smaller and smaller pieces, dropping each of them into the flame and watching the ashes fall, ingraining themselves in the grain of the table, secrets forever hidden.

---

Dear Winry,

No.

Dear Ms. Rockbell and Winry,

No, that wouldn’t work either.

Dear Rockbells,

Becca sighed, crossing out the salutation once more. Neither her nor Ed had gotten any sleep, but even so, they’d hardly even moved. The sun had risen hours ago, just barely shining through the darkened room, and she’d been trying to write to Winry and Pinako for the better part of the day, with no success. She couldn’t exactly give them an explanation for their radio silence on the off chance that someone else read it, not that she actually thought she’d be able to put any of it into words.

Hell, she couldn’t even find the words to say to Ed and Al. There had been less than twenty words spoken between the three of them in the last 18 hours, a feat Becca couldn’t remember ever happening before.

“You need to eat something, Brother,” Al said hollowly. “You too, Becca.”

Becca knew he was right, Al was seldom wrong after all, and she knew from past experiences that it was a slippery slope, but she’d been leaning against the couch since they’d gotten back to the dorm late the night before and she just… couldn’t force herself to get up. By the noncommittal grunt from the couch cushions above her, she assumed Ed felt similarly.

“This is the worst,” she mumbled, tucking her head into her knees.

“Yeah,” Ed responded vaguely. “It’s awful.”

Al made a small noise of agreement.

Ed reached up, almost like he was trying to stretch past the blades of the fan, past the other floors of rooms, and into the sky to grab the sun itself. “It always felt like… like the solution to all of our problems were right within our grasp and then-” He clenched his automail fist, “-it always slipped away. Then we finally caught it, and it turns out that it’s too dangerous to hold.” Becca turned over her shoulder, catching the end of a bitter grin. “You think this is God’s special way of punishing those who commit taboos? Doomed to chase empty promises for all eternity?”

“This can’t be the end,” Becca protested.

“Yeah, sure,” Ed said, rolling onto his side. They lapsed into silence. “Bex?”

“Hm?”

“Can you give Al and I a second?”

She looked up from her tight ball, unable to keep a flash of surprise from her face. “I- yeah, of course.” She uncurled, stretching her legs out hesitantly. “I’ll be in the- uh- the shower. Clear my head.”

Al gave a tiny, tiny wave. Ed didn’t move. Becca sighed, but figured a quick, cold shower might do her some good, even if leaving the brother practically fried her nerves. However, she didn’t get to it straight away, catching a glance of herself in the mirror and unable to resist taking a further look.

Boy, did she look rough. Prominent dark circles had apparently taken up permanent residence under her eyes, and her curls, her mother’s pride and joy (and, admittedly, one of Becca’s more favorite aspects about her appearance, just based on how much care Louisa had often devoted to them) were greasy and limp from a lack of attention. She huffed, running a hand through the mess, only to get it caught in a knot, and winced. And that tiny pinprick of pain, for some reason, was the final straw. Unwilling tears of frustration, of pain, of anger towards all the crap the universe had thrown at them recently; they welled up and threatened to spill over until she wiped her eyes and scrubbed them away with the part of her sleeve that stretched around her palm and thumb. Then she quickly realized her clothes were uncomfortably dirty. Not filthy, but enough so that bits of dried ink that had stained her sleeve flaked onto her face like dark freckles.

Rebecca, you’re being ridiculously. Go clean up this instant.

“Mom,” she mumbled, shutting her eyes tightly. Her mother might usually be off-base, but her probable advice possibly had a nugget of a good idea. Maybe a shower wouldn’t fix things, but being clean might at least make her feel a bit less… icky. “It’s a start,” she told herself, flicking on the cold water as she toed off her socks. And the cold tile on bare feet shocked her a bit, giving her only a taste of the refreshing cool about to come.

---

Unfortunately, because of the lives they lived, any quiet had to be short-lived. Because of course it did.

She’d barely gotten over the initial jolts that always came with cold showers when a crash and two screams rang through the dorm. Becca practically tumbled out of the shower, then all but tripped into her undershirt and pants. She didn’t open the door naked, but definitely didn’t have time to wiggle into her blue shirt. Still soaked, she threw the door open, barely breathing, only to see Armstrong sobbing in the open doorway with Ed whispering angrily to Ross and Brosh.

“What the hell is going on?” Becca whispered to Al.

“I think Armstrong pressured the second lieutenant and the sergeant to tell him what we found,” Al whispered back. “He’s not really taking it well.”

“To think, the reality of the Philosopher’s Stone would be such a terrible discovery,” Armstrong lamented. “And our military has condoned it! How awful! Sometimes, the truth really can be so cruel!”

Becca paused, hands fully entangled in her wet hair as she considered his words in the midst of making her usual bun. “The truth… can be cruel,” she said thoughtfully, “but Marcoh- what was it he said? At the station?”

Ed froze as well, pivoting to face her with a wide eyed look. “The truth within the truth.” He clenched his fist, bringing it up to rest over his mouth. His voice was slightly muffled as he ground out, “There’s something more here. Something else Marcoh wanted us to find.” He whipped around to face Armstrong and the officers. “I need to know what other research the military is doing. Maps, dossiers, reports, anything you can get quickly.”

“Of course,” Armstrong said, saluting. “I will stay here and watch over you, but Lieutenant Ross and Sergeant Brosh will gather everything they can and meet back here in an hour.”

“Yes, sir,” both officers chorused, dispersing quickly.

“You think this is going to help at all?” Becca asked.

Ed gave her a forced grin. “No idea, but we’ve got to try. You guys ready for a bit more work?”

“Of course, Brother.”

“Always.” Becca sighed, though, then reached for where she’d dropped her towel on the floor. “But first, my mother would be ashamed to look at me right now, so I am going to wash my hair.” She gave the brothers a stern look and requested, “I’m not coming out if you start screaming again.”

Ed laughed flippantly. “You so would.”

She rolled her eyes, not answering except for flashing a smug smile over her shoulder.

“Since we can’t really do much until we have more resources, Brother, you should go get something to eat,” Al said before she shut the door.

“Aw, come on, Al, we’re gonna be busy-”

“And you need to keep your energy up,” Al pointed out. “It’s important to-”

Becca closed the door and flicked the shower back on, unable to stop her smug smile from softening into a fonder variant. Ed would probably protest for a while, but she knew Al would win out. He always did. Becca had never known Ed to say no to him, not even once.

---

Armstrong had brought back ingredients for sandwiches, Ross and Brosh had returned with armfuls of papers, and they’d spread everything out on the table and floor of their room to start connecting even more dots.

“So the four functioning government labs in Central are found here, here, here, and here,” Armstrong explained, circling the aforementioned spots to form a tilted trapezoid. 

“Their names are easy to remember, albeit not creative,” Ross added. She pointed to each as she named it, “Northernmost is the First Lab, then the Second, then Third, and back up north is Fourth. We found employment records, and Dr. Tim Marcoh only worked at the Third Laboratory. It’s closed now, but you could start investigating there first thing tomorrow morning.”

Becca said, biting her lip. “My father took my brother and I on a tour around all four of those labs on a trip to Central years ago. I know it was a long time ago, but I don’t remember any research that was overtly noteworthy happening at any of them.”

Ed nodded along. “Al and I looked around them more recently when I got certified and there wasn’t anything there then either.” He leaned further over the map, tracing lines between the labs thoughtfully, his brows furrowing. Almost experimentally, he grabbed a pencil and lightly sketched, so instead of a trapezoid, there was a large, five-pointed star. He circled the final point he’d estimated in the southwest part of the city, tapping it with the lead tip. “What’s that building? That one right here?”

“That would be…” Ross checked a different notebook, then said, “The planned Fifth Lab. The foundations weren’t stable, so it was condemned, and now it’s just been abandoned since it could collapse.”

Ed snapped his fingers, circling that location again. “That’s where we have to go.”

“How do you figure that?” Brosh asked curiously.

“Besides being the only place in this city that the government could reasonably conduct suspicious research where no one else could see it?” Becca said. “The pentagram, or five-pointed star, is also an important alchemical symbol. It represents perfection, mankind in the universe, and the five ancient assumed components of alchemy: air, earth, water, fire, and spirit. Of course, we’ve since disproved those, but the allusion still remains-”

“Plus,” Ed interjected frankly, “there’s a prison right next to it.” He made a face. “All the ingredients for the Philosopher’s Stone, an unending supply as long as people are still getting convicted of crimes. Technically, they’d be recorded as executed.”
They all cringed. “How awful…” Ross muttered.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Ed said, frustrated. “I don’t like it any more than you do.”
“I know we already assumed that the government was involved,” Brosh mumbled. “But I have to wonder how much the higher up knows. Couldn’t this just be a few ambitious prison wardens?”

“Forgive me for doubting that a couple wardens possess the skills to figure out the code of the Philosopher’s Stone and the ability to do it in total secrecy,” Ed said sarcastically.

“I feel like we’ve poked our heads into something really big,” Ross said to herself, biting her nails.

Al shrugged helplessly. “We did tell you not to tell anyone.”

“Either way,” Armstrong said decisively, “everything we’ve discussed is merely speculation. We can’t rule out that this is a misunderstanding or that there is an independent researcher involved. I will look into this and ask around with those I trust at the office, then I will inform you on what I’ve found. Until then, Second Lieutenant, Sergeant, I ask that you stay quiet on this matter. And you three-” He pointed an accusatory finger at Ed, Al, and Becca, “-are to stay here.”

“What, are you grounding us?” Ed said indignantly. “It’s not like we would-”

“Do not lie to me, Edward Elric,” Armstrong boomed. “You were already thinking about going to check in on the Fifth Laboratory on your own, weren’t you?”

“Major, you can’t just jump to conclusions,” Becca said. “Ed’s eager, but he’s not stupid. Of course, we won’t go into a condemned, military owned building just based on a circumstantial hunch. That would be foolish!”

“We’ll just wait here for you, Major!”

“Yeah, we won’t try anything that dangerous.”

The major glanced between them, staring them all down until he was satisfied. “Good. In that case, you all should rest. My subordinates said they saw you all at the library from sun up to sun down for days at a time. Ross and Brosh can bring you anything you need for the rest of the day, but I’m posting them outside to make sure you stay here, understood?”

“Yes, sir!” Ross and Brosh agreed.

“Then I bid you goodnight. I will stop by tomorrow to let you know of any new information.”

The officers followed him out the door, and the dorm was silent for about thirty seconds to make sure no one was coming back in before Becca asked, “So, just checking, we are going into a condemned, military owned building just based on a circumstantial hunch, right?”

Ed scoffed. “Obviously. Like hell we’re just going to sit around after finding that out. How soon can you be ready to go?”

“Just let me grab my boots.”

Notes:

i hope you and your loved ones are all staying healthy and safe, and i'll see y'all in the next chapter! -c

Chapter 14: onism

Notes:

iiiiit's thusday my dears!

so this chapter did end up pretty short, but it's done, and i did so much behind the scenes/planning/jotting down notes for the future over these last two weeks, along with getting a little bit ahead with the next few chapters being all written up or at least planned out. for some reason, i've been thinking a lot about the north arc and the timeskip era? so start lookin' forward to that already i guess.

college apps are still an ongoing process and i'm just adding 2 more applications now so wish me luck with that shit.

and finally, given how far i can get in the next week, i might end up uploading the next short chapter next thursday instead of waiting 2 weeks, so let me know if y'all would be interested in that!

onism (noun)- the frustration of being stuck in just one body, that inhabits only one place at a time

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Becca had read a story once about a princess who’d gotten herself and her absurdly long hair stuck in a tower. She’d escaped by scaling down the wall with her own hair, in what Becca imagined was probably a very painful endeavor.

All that to say, while not one of their brightest ideas, sneaking out via a rope of knotted sheets and blankets at least had some clear inspiration. Under the cover of darkness, it really wasn’t that hard to slip away, which might be concerning considering they were escaping a military dorm, but it fit their needs of the night, so it could be worried about at a later time.

“Too easy,” Ed said proudly as they crossed the street, hopping from streetlight to streetlight.

“How long do you think it’ll be until they realize we’re being too quiet and check on us?” Al asked.

Becca gave him a warning glance. “With any luck, they’ll assume we went to sleep and we can sneak back in when we’re done here. Otherwise, I think Ross’ll kill us. So we’re not even going to think about that.”

They’d memorized the route they’d need to take, ducking through dark alleys and past sketchy bars as they got farther away from the city center. As they hustled along, Becca heard a loud scuffle come from down an alleyway, followed by a round of raucous laughter. Unconsciously, she picked up her pace, keeping her head forward even as a male voice leered, “Evenin’, girlie,” from the entrance of the alley. She chanced a look to the side to see a middle aged man leaning heavily against the wall, in a ripped jacket with several teeth missing, then screwed her vision forward again. Al moved noticeably closer to her, blocking the alley.

“C’mon, sweetheart, you babysitting?” the man crooned. Ed stiffened next to her, but he didn’t seem to notice. “You shouldn’t take kids around these parts at night. Have a drink with us, we’ll keep you and the kiddies safe.”

“Who the hell are you calling a kid?” Ed snapped, whirling around. “And don’t talk to her like that!”

The drunk man stumbled forward as Ed strode back towards him, but Becca grabbed his hand and whispered, “Edward, don’t. It’s not worth it. Let’s just go.”

He resisted for only a few seconds, then relaxed and let her pull him away, though he still glared over his shoulder. Thankfully, the man just flipped them off, then went back to his group. “Asshole,” Ed muttered.

“Drunk guys and cities at night are never a good mix,” Becca said, and then, “Is that it?”

Ed turned quickly to catch a look at the huge wall spanning the next block, then tugged Becca and Al to hug the wall they were right next to. He peered around the corner, squinting suspiciously. “Is that a guard? At a supposably unused building?”

“Hmm… strange,” Al noted. “How should we get in?”

“Make our own way?” Becca suggested.

“Nah, someone would see the light from the transmutation.”

“Is there a back entrance?”

“Even if there was, there’d probably be a guard over there too.”

“Well, they put barbed wire up top, so we can’t exactly go straight over.”

Ed craned his neck up to check out the spiralled spikes glinting in the moonlight. He sighed, crossing his eyes. “I don’t think we have another plausible option. You thinking what I’m thinking, Al?” He turned to his brother, who offered a hand. Ed clambered up, gripping Al’s shoulder, and wedged his boot securely into his gauntlet.

“Be careful,” Becca cautioned, “you can’t overbalance or you’ll get stuck, or like, impaled or something-”

Ed laughed. “I’m not going to get impaled. It’ll be fine, don’t worry so much.”

"Ready, Brother?"

"Let's do it."

"1...2... up!" With unnerving ease as if they'd done it a thousand times, Al tossed Ed and he sailed through the air, weightless, until he landed atop the wall, perched precariously between the spikes. Becca let out a relieved breath as he started unwinding and passing lengths of wire down for Al. Once he was up, though, everyone froze. On the other side of the street, they heard an outburst of shouts. Probably more drunks getting kicked out of a pub. Becca looked up and gestured frantically for Al to hurry out of the way. He nodded, scooting over. Both Elrics grabbed onto a metal pole with one arm and leaned towards her, reaching with the other.

“We’ve got you,” Ed whispered. “Come on, quick.”

“Right,” Becca muttered to herself, flashing a thumbs up at him before backing up, looking both ways, running at the wall, leaping up, clawing her way up a few feet until Ed and Al each grabbed an arm and were able to tug her up. Breaths barely passed between them, trying to keep as silent as possible as another crowd of bar hoppers clambered by and, fortunately, didn’t look up. Once they’d rounded the corner without noticing them, all three finally relaxed.

Ed dropped to the ground, then Becca, then Al landed eerily noiselessly behind them. They crept around to the front of the building, on the lookout for any roving guards, but it seemed that the lone man at the gate was the only one.

But then the caution taped and boarded up front door presented a larger problem.

“Well, at least we can assume we’re on the right track,” Ed said. “Who posts a guard and blocks off the entrance?”

Becca bit back a remark about how maybe the government was just trying to keep nosy teens like themselves out, instead asking, “So how do we get in?”

Ed sighed heavily and pointed upwards. Becca followed his finger. “You’re not serious.”

“You think I want to squeeze through a vent? But I’d bet that goes all the way into the building, or at least far enough that I’ll find something useful. At least let me take a look.”

“Here, Brother.”

Al hoisted Ed up again, Becca positioning herself carefully behind them in case one lost their balance. Ed pried the metal grate off of the vent opening. “Yeah… it’s not much, but it’s probably the best we’re going to get. You two should stay here, though.”

“What?”

“Uh, no.”

“Come on. I’ll be fine by myself, and, well, Al, I’m sorry, but you won’t exactly fit,” he said guiltily. Al sighed, mumbling something to himself under his breath. “I’d rather Becca stay out here and you two can work together if something goes wrong with one of those guards-”

Becca laughed disbelievingly. “Oh, that’s a nice try, but I’m coming in with you. Al doesn’t need me.”

“Yeah, Brother, you’ve never beaten me in a fight, not the other way around,” Al said.

“At least you can pull rank and say we have a right to be here,” Ed pointed out. “Al can’t do that. I’ll come straight back if I find anything too strange and we’ll figure out a new plan.”

“How about if you find anything weird or within twenty minutes- whichever one comes first,” Becca bargained, taking her watch out of her pocket and tapping the closed cover before popping it open and reading out, “9:38.” Ed winced. “I’ll come and find you if you take too long.”

“Yeah,” Al agreed forcefully. “That’s fair, isn’t it?”

Ed’s eyes traced between them a few times, clenching his jaw. Eventually, it became clear that even his natural hard-headedness wasn’t going to win out against both of them and he huffed. “Fine, that’s fair. See you in forty-five, then?”

“Twenty.”

“Thirty?”

“I’m about to make it ten.”

“Fine, twenty sounds great.” He reached further into the vent, apparently a handhold since and tugging himself up further, squeezing into the darkness. “I’ll be back in a bit,” his voice echoed.

Al didn’t move away from the wall for a few moments, staring intently up at the darkness where Ed had disappeared. Becca laid a gentle hand on his shoulder, only remembering he couldn’t actually feel it when he didn’t react. Instead, she had to get his attention vocally with what she hoped was a comforting, “He’ll be alright. He hasn’t met his match yet.” She hesitated, then tried for a joke. “Except you, of course.”

The younger boy chuckled listlessly. “Yeah. I just wish he didn’t have to go by himself.”

He didn’t say it, but Becca knew he wouldn’t be reassured knowing she’d go in after him. What Al really meant was I wish I could go with him . And there was nothing she could say or do that would ease his pain concerning that problem. All she could do was try to soothe his worries was let him know that she heard him, that she could listen.

“Yeah, me too.”

Ever so slowly, Al sank down to his knees, twisting so he could sit back against the wall. “I didn’t ask to be this big,” he said sadly.

“I know you didn’t.” Becca slid down next to him, not quite touching but there all the same. “And Ed knows. It won’t last forever, not if he has a say in it. Hell, throw me in there too. We’re all going to help fix it.” She didn’t lean onto him like she so desperately wanted to, but she did scoot closer, like that would extend her offer of support. “I promise, okay?”

Al didn’t respond for a moment, staring up at the stars. Hesitantly, he responded, “Okay,” and then, trying to change the subject, asked, “How long has Brother been gone?”

Not as much of an acknowledgement as I’d hoped for, but it’ll do for now. She checked her still-open pocket watch and groaned. 9:42. “Not even five minutes.”

Awkward silence descended between the two of them, and if anything was going to set off alarm bells and indicate something was deeply wrong, that was it. She couldn’t recall a time where neither of them could think of something to say to the other. She and Al had been close since the beginning, with the exception of an occasional, stress on occasional , spat that was normal between friends, and even then, it wasn’t that they didn’t have anything to say, it was just that they were both more stubborn than they liked to admit and no one wanted to break the ice until the other gave in. And if they were quiet, it was exclusively reserved for moments of reflection or stretches of time when they were working on their own projects but being together. Discomfort was a largely unexplored territory.

As the seconds ticked by and eventually turned to minutes, Becca decided it’d felt like at least ten minutes had passed, so she looked down at her watch again.

9:44.

Thoroughly disgruntled, Becca sagged even further down on the wall. If Al didn’t want to talk, this was going to be a long wait.

Just out of curiosity, she snuck another look at the time, only to see that they were still in the same minute. She sighed as undetectably as she could. “Hey Al?”

“Hm?”

“Do you feel like we’re being watched?”

“A little, but… I’m sure it’s just the aftermath of those guys from earlier. Or seeing the guard.”

He went quiet again. Becca cast a furtive glance around, unable to see anything out of the ordinary but also unable to quell the natural instinct making the hair on the back of her neck prickle insistently. She closed her eyes and leaned further back as if she’d be absorbed into the wall. Yep, it was going to be a while.

---

3… 2… 1… “And that’s twenty minutes,” Becca announced. She hopped up, practically buzzing. “I’m going in.”

Al creaked a bit, shifting so he could help her up to the uncovered vent. “Bring him back.”

“Kicking and screaming if I have to,” Becca assured, crawling inside. “And then we’re getting out of here until Armstrong can get us in legally. Or at least until daylight. This place is too creepy.”

There was a hollow laugh from behind her. “Agreed. See you soon.”

Of course, because every situation had to go wrong in all the worst ways in their lives, once she’d dropped to the ground inside the building, she swore she could hear the faint clangs of metal on metal from outside. On instinct, she reached back up, going to for the exit to go investigate, but she’d told Al she was getting Ed. And they’d already argued earlier that Al didn’t need her, especially since Ed might have found something worse or gotten stuck somewhere.

Plus, she couldn’t reach the vent on her own. How they were going to get out, Becca had no idea now that she thought about it. She reluctantly stepped away, setting off at a brisk pace down the hall. The sooner she got Ed and they both got out of here, the sooner they’d be able to make sure Al was alright.

But the damn place was a maze, and Ed hadn’t thought to leave any type of trail for her to follow, so she was left to try and put herself in his mind. Passing door after door that just lead into various smaller filing rooms, she could deduce that there wasn’t going to be anything too important in these outer hallways. She’d have to go deeper to find anything worthwhile. But, she pondered when she reached a fork in the hall, had Ed chanced that? Or had he kept creeping forward? She tried to listen down both ways, but there was nothing. No way for her to know what the right decision was.

In the end, she went with her gut. She turned, going further into the lab.

---

Becca remembered being dragged unwillingly into her father’s lab at the academy. She couldn’t forget the one at the Tucker house. And so she found herself wondering if it was standard alchemist procedure, if one had a laboratory, to have an antechamber of sorts to store all the weird stuff. Maybe it was to ward off potential interlopers from travelling deeper and finding any actual information. If so, they tended to do a satisfactory job.

Her father’s old lab was always freezing to keep his mercury useful and pliant, and Shou Tucker’s held all of his deranged experiments. This one, apparently the lab of one Franklin Harkins from the sign on the door, at the very center of the Fifth Lab, was filled to the brim with aquarium-like containers of red liquid. It illuminated the room slightly, though the light was dull, not quite as luminous as the liquid Philosopher’s Stone Marcoh had shown them.

“What are you…?” Becca murmured to herself, pressing against the glass as if the answer would be floating within the liquid. Obviously, it wasn’t, so she backed off and stepped over to a research journal that had been left open on a desk where ‘66-12-04-94’ had been scrawled in bright red ink. She huffed. A code should have been expected, but it would have been nice to have something easy that night. She flipped through to see if there was anything of use, but there were only more seemingly random strings of numbers. Just in case, though, she ripped a few pages out of the journal and shoved them in her pocket. Best case scenario, they ended up being helpful later on. Worst case scenario, Dr. Franklin Harkins would be missing a few notes.

Further in was a room full of actual research that Becca pointedly bypassed after a cursory search for anything indicating the existence of an alternate alchemical amplifier like the Stone. But unlike other labs, there was another large door. It was deadbolted and solid wood, essentially soundproof from where Becca was standing in the library. She almost turned away, since Ed couldn’t have possibly come through that way and left the door untouched, but instinct compelled her to check. Crossing the room, her eyes caught on a trio of tiny scarlet pocket notebooks, a stark contrast to the stern-looking, hard-covered alchemy texts around it.

Well, the color is certainly appropriate, she thought, swiping the little books. With the dust here, I’m sure Dr. Harkins won’t miss these.

 Embossed on the front of each were the numbers 48a, 48b, and 66. She frowned. Some type of series? She almost poked around to look for the rest, but as she slunk past the door she’d initially been heading for, she could hear the faint but familiar sounds of combat. Her blood ran cold. She pressed her ear against the door and recognized Ed’s distinct shouting from the other side. “How the hell did he get in there?” Becca muttered, tucking the notebooks into her pocket with the ripped out pages in order to free her hands.

One small transmutation and the padlock fell, broken. Becca was quick to catch it- no way to tell how well the person in the next room could hear- and set it aside, then quietly pushed inside and had to stifle a gasp.

Ed, metal arm already transmuted into a blade, was engaged in a heated battle with a man in a suit of armor, armed with a long, thin sword, but… there was something off. Sure enough, when he aimed a solid kick at the opponent’s side, a harsh series of clangs rang through the chamber as the armoured man skidded across the floor. There was a brief moment where his eyes locked on hers from across the room, widening in surprise before he turned back to the man and asked, “Was that just me, or did you sound rather hollow inside?”

“Like a trash can,” Becca snarked, stepping forward and sinking into a combative stance.

“Rather underhanded, getting an ally in here, but impressive nonetheless,” the man said as he levelled his blade across his shoulders, pivoting so he could see both of them. “You figured that out quickly, didn’t you?”

“It’s nothing new,” Ed replied, “we spar with a guy just like you pretty regularly. I know how it feels.”

The armor shook with barely restrained laughter, low voice echoing as he spoke. “You mean there’s really someone like me on the outside, hm? How unexpected.”

“Yeah, and I think it’s pretty disturbing that anyone else would even consider bonding a soul to a suit of armor- I thought I was the only idiot to come up with that brilliant idea.”

As the two of them exchanged verbal jabs, Becca was tiptoeing closer to the man’s back, forming a quarterstaff off of a stone pillar and raising it steadily above her head, only to bring it down when she was close enough, hoping to knock his helmet off and disorient him. Just before she made contact though, the man turned lightning quick, brandishing his sword so Becca had to hop backwards to avoid having her weapon destroyed or damaged.

“Allow me to introduce myself once more, for the lady,” the man said, tone indulgent. “Nowadays, they call me Number 48. That was my number on death row thirty years ago, after all. But in life- or rather, when I had a flesh body- I was the murderer ‘The Slicer’. I am the oldest of the dogs guarding this place.”

“So they are using condemned prisoners in experiments then?” Ed asked, drawing 48’s attention back to him.

48 shrugged nonchalantly. “I wouldn’t know. Not my area. They just heard what I could do and assigned me here for the past few decades to guard against thrill-seeking brats like you.”

“We’re not thrill-seekers, we’re just looking for some answers,” Becca said placatingly. “Were they making Philosopher’s Stones? Did you have to choose between that and this?”

The Slicer stared at her for a moment, red eyes glowing brightly, then laughed. “How should I know? I was a murderer, not an alchemist.”

“But you have to know something about alchemy. What about your blood seal?” Ed prodded.

“I have one, if that’s what you mean.” He lifted his faceplate, exposing a bloody circle that vaguely reminded Becca of Al’s seal, if Al’s was incredibly pointy and rigid looking. “All you two have to do is destroy this and you win, right?”

Ed clenched his jaw, suspicious. “That’s pretty nice, to show us your weak spot like that. You that confident?”

“You could say nice. Or perhaps I just enjoy upping the stakes in combat, nothing more, nothing less.”

“Let’s assume it’s the first one and maybe we can all walk out of this,” Becca suggested.

48 chuckled lowly. “Now, girl, you may think I’m nice, but ask yourself: what kind of killer would I be-” He raised his sword, slicing through the air, “-if I let prey go from right in front of me?”

He went for Ed first, but that didn’t stop Becca from advancing with her weapon as well. And evidently, it was good she did, given that Number 48 had to turn to intercept Becca’s staff and missed Ed’s face going white. Becca, however, saw it clearly, along with the sharp, aborted movement to grab his automail shoulder.

Winry’s reminder rang through her head.

“the tradeoff is that it isn't as strong as it was…”

She had to look away to block 48, then gestured with her chin for Ed to back off. Predictably, he shook his head, opening his mouth to call 48’s attention back to him, but Becca was already drawing the suit of armor towards her with little hops back towards the dark lab. It was going well (as well as could be expected) until Ed caught on and jumped forward himself, spooking 48 into swinging around to face him. Luckily, he missed Becca with his sword arm. Unluckily, his opposite arm nailed her in the gut and sent her flying backwards.

Turned out she was much closer to the wall than she’d thought, and subsequently got the breath knocked out of her, gripping her chest. Ed shouted wordlessly, keeping the Slicer’s attention on him, and backflipped towards the opposite wall. But with his obviously malfunctioning arm, he wasn’t quite fast enough. The blade landed and blood began to drip from a cut beneath his bangs, which spurred Becca out of her daze and back into the fray.

Weaving around each other in an instinctual dance, they were finally able to fight side by side. The Slicer’s sword flashed in the low candle lighting as he slashed and stabbed at each other them, eventually driving the blade straight down and only missing a fatal strike to Ed’s stomach because Becca crashed into his armored side and knocked him off balance. Ed arched his back and kicked up, though he got stuck in a crouching position. Becca stood to his ride, both of them breathing heavily.

48 chortled indulgently. “You’re just like two little monkeys, aren’t you?”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”

“Energetic prey is always the most worthy of hunting.” The Slicer shrugged. “But you cannot win this, children. You both, unlike me, can become even more fatigued and wounded than you already are.” As he mentioned their injuries, she could feel two large bruises forming on her stomach and back forming alongside the usual bumps and bloody scrapes that always came from combat. She hated to admit it, but the murderer was probably right. He could keep going as long as he needed to even as she could feel the adrenaline coursing through her slowing and Ed was still trying to casually cradle his automail. “Whoever you’ve left outside is surely being kept occupied by my partner. They will not be coming for you. Give up now and accept your deaths with grace.”

Ed raised an eyebrow. “This partner of yours, is he strong?”

“Strong, yes, but not as strong as me.”

Dragging himself back to his feet, Ed grinned wolfishly. “Great. Then I don’t have to be worried. I’ve never once won against him, so your guy doesn’t stand a chance.” He wiped blood out of his eye and raised his arms defensively. “Now come on, let’s go!”

48 shook his head, like a disappointed parent. “Even so, he won’t make it here in time.” He raised his sword once more, prepping for a killing blow. 

Becca shifted forward onto her toes.

“Are you sure about that?” Ed asked.

There was only time for Becca to wonder, What? before Ed had flashed a look over the Slicer’s shoulder and shouted, “Do it, Al, now!”

Understanding dawned on her a second later and she lurched backwards, out of Ed’s way. Ed moved forward as well, shoving past Becca and slicing the Slicer’s head clean off. The helmet flew backwards, though, Becca could see as it sailed through the air, the blood seal was still intact, just separated from the body and therefore rendering 48 defenseless. She caught the head by her fingerprints while the Slicer howled, “That was a dirty trick!”

“No such thing as a dirty trick in a fight- oof!” Ed snapped, landing heavily on his side and rolling a few feet. He hopped back up as the remaining empty armor crashed to the stone floor. He transmuted his arm back to normal and staggered over to Becca. “You okay?”

“I’ll be fine. You?”

He shrugged, drawing her attention to his shoulder when it clunked as it moved.

“That’s not good.”

Groaning, Ed laid an arm across his forehead. “Yeah, I know. I am not looking forward to explaining this to Winry. But there has to be more in here, let’s keep looking-”

“Ed, we should get out of here,” Becca protested. Even though 48 was currently helpless, her senses were prickling like they had been outside, like there was still danger lurking around them. “I nicked some things from an office I found, let’s call that enough for tonight.”

“And you haven’t destroyed my blood seal yet,” 48 said. “So go ahead and-”

“Hey, wait a sec, we can just ask him,” Ed said.

Becca huffed, tapping her foot anxiously, but relented. “Okay, but please, hurry up. I can’t take much more of this place.”

“Hm.” Ed poked at the helmet. It wasn’t like the Slicer could feel it, but she was sure it was annoying. “Tell us everything you know about the Philosopher’s Stone.

If he was attached to his neck, Becca was sure 48 would have turned away, along with possibly flashing a rude gesture if he had the rest of his body. “I cannot.”

Ed’s fist clenched at his side as his temper spiked. Becca laid her free hand on his arm and insisted, “Come on, he beat you at your own game. We won.”

“Did I say I’d lost?”

A nearly silent scrape from behind them made Becca frown and start to turn. Her eyes widened. “Get out of the way!” She spun around fully, brandishing her staff, but she was too late. The blade snuck through and-

She heard a strangled gasp.

Notes:

i hope you and your loved ones are all staying healthy and safe, and i'll see y'all in the next update! -c

Chapter 15: rubatosis

Notes:

merry christmas, my dears (or happy thursday if you don't celebrate),

i meant to post this earlier and then... i forgot.

so just imagine me wrapping this and putting it under a tree for you. tis my gift for you.

and i'm gonna be honest- even though the main motivation for posting again this week instead of waiting two weeks like normal was my own giving spirit because i love you guys, it was also because i put bi weekly reminders to update in my calendar that matched up to when i first started posting and the hiatus i took wound up messing that up, so i kind of just wanted to get back on that schedule. so after this, it will go back to every two weeks.

in other news... i got my first college acceptance letter! it's so weird, but i'm so excited 🥺🥺🥺

rubatosis (noun)- the unsettling awareness of your own heartbeat

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Sharp pain bloomed over Becca’s side. Automatically, she dropped both her staff and 48’s head to clutch at the new wound, tripping over her feet as she backed away from the sword.

“Bex!” Ed was by her side in an instant, his tight hold grounding her as he gripped her by the shoulders. “How did you-?” The body straightened up, leaning on their sword like a rich man on a cane.

“Oh, my apologies,” the familiar voice echoed from the head. “I forgot to tell you one key detail.”

“The murderer known as the Slicer,” continued the body. Their voice was slightly higher, almost like… Al’s cadence was to Ed’s. 

Becca’s heart sank.

“Was actually two brothers.”

Ed scowled. “Two souls in one suit of armor? That’s a dirty trick!”

“Come now, who was it that told me there was no such thing as a dirty trick in a fight?” the head said coolly.

“And now it looks like you’ll have to run round 2 alone, short stuff,” the body added. “She’s not looking up to any more fighting.”

“Don’t call me short!”

Becca winced, glaring up at the brothers. “And don’t underestimate me!”

As one, they went for their weapons, Ed bringing his hands up to transmute and Becca hitting the ground to grab her staff. The body, presumably the younger Slicer, leapt after them. His leg shot out, clocking Becca’s temple; snapping her head to the side and knocking it against the floor.

Her vision blacked out and she woke up, sprawled on her back, to someone shouting her name. She sat up, gasping for breath, but looked around frantically. It seemed like she’d only been out a few seconds, maybe a minute, but Ed had seen her go down and had called for her. As she was about to respond, her call of support turned into a shriek in her throat when the body got a lucky hit while Ed was distracted and slammed him into a pillar with the hilt of 48’s sword.

He choked out… something- Becca couldn’t quite tell what the word was supposed to be, but that was enough to get her back up and tottering towards him. 

But Ed wasn’t getting up.

Becca couldn’t help herself. The image of Ed crumpled in the streets of East City, not even flinching away from Scar, kept twisting through her mind.

Why wasn’t he getting up?

It wasn’t raining, it wasn’t cold, it wasn’t dark like that day. Hyper aware of her surroundings, Becca knew the room was warm, almost comfortable, and bathed in candlelight. Candlelight that glinted off the sword, off the armor.

And the Ishvalan- Scar, they were calling him- acted like the brother was now. The headless body had slowed down to savor the moment, and she could practically see the large shadowy figure he must have been, bearing down on his victims on the outside. She didn’t hear him, her head still ringing (or maybe it was spinning. She couldn’t be sure), and only focused on getting to Ed. When she got to him, she couldn’t sit down, because she knew if she sank to the ground to wrap him up and protect him like she couldn’t do last time, like she so desperately wanted to, then she wouldn’t be getting back up. Instead, she gritted her teeth and mumbled, “We are not dying here. You said you wouldn’t give up again, Ed. You promised.”

Ed’s head lolled backwards, face up towards her, blood still spilling from the laceration on his forehead, but upon digesting her words, his eyes sharpened. He scrutinized the younger brother’s cocky stance for a moment, and Becca could see his muscles tense up. He had a plan to get them out of this. He clapped his hands as the body of the armor finally struck, sword extended, but Ed reached forward too.

There was a horrible screech of metal on metal, followed by the crackling energy that always surrounded transmutations. Rather than transmuting his arm and simply separating the arms from the legs, Ed had swooped under the Slicer’s outstretched arm and blasted the armor cleanly in half.  Just as quickly as the second fight began, it was over. Becca made a note to ask Ed where he’d come up with that particular move when he wasn’t clutching his abdomen, slumped against a column and close eyed in exhaustion.

She was tempted to join him, but there was still work to be done. First, she nudged the empty metal legs with her toe and verified, “There are only two of you, right? You’re not going to say there were actually three brothers?”

“No,” the head said begrudgingly. “It’s just my brother and I.”

“How pathetic, Brother!” the body whined, detached arms flailing. “That damn kid messed me up bad!”

Becca cringed, poking at the disembodied torso as well. “Quit it, please. That’s… creepy.”

“Yes, it is a little pitiful,” the elder admitted, “but we’ve lost. You two did win.”

“Great,” Ed wheezed. “Now tell us everything about the Stone. We’ve earned it.”

“The only thing you’ve earned is the chance to escape with your lives,” the elder 48 said. “We can’t tell you anything. Just finish it and get out, alright?”

Finish it? Becca faltered, trading a look with Ed before confirming, “We- uh- we’re not going to kill you.”

“Why ever not?” the head demanded, sounding offended. “You’re pitying us too?”

“Spare us the roles of being murderers,” Ed said tiredly. “We don’t kill other people.”

“Ha, right! You wouldn’t be killing us, you’d be destroying us,” the younger brother said. “We can’t be killed, the scientists said that was a perk of agreeing to this.”

“With bodies like these, are we even really human?” the older one added.

Ed sighed and closed his eyes before he said firmly, “If I decide that you two aren’t human beings, then that means my little brother isn’t either. I know he is, and that means you guys are as well. I won’t kill you. Nothing could ever drive me to take another person’s life, no matter the state of their body.” 

Leaning back against the stone, Becca nodded in agreement. Her hand floated up to rest over her bleeding side as she tried to breathe through a sudden wave of pain from her pounding head, and she missed the first few quiet chortles 48’s head echoing out. However, there was no mistaking them as they grew louder, the man sounding unhinged to everyone in the room, including his brother, who worriedly called out for him to calm down.

“Don’t you see?” the head said incredulously, still giggling between words. “Ever since we were young, we’d lie, cheat, and steal and we were treated like scum for it! We killed and destroyed, we lived like outcasts! But now… in these pseudo-bodies, you treat us like humans for the first time! Don’t tell me you don’t see the irony.” The brother calmed down significantly, voice smooth and lighter than it had been throughout the fight when he continued, “You said you wanted to know about the Philosopher’s Stone-”
“Brother!” the younger one interrupted, frightened. “We’ll be punished if you-”

“We’re going to be punished for letting intruders get the best of us. And we’ve already died once. There’s nothing to be afraid of, little brother,” the first said decisively. “Kids, listen up. I’m going to tell you everything. I don’t know much about alchemy, let alone something as complicated as the Philosopher’s Stone.”

Ed growled, but Becca raised an eyebrow, picking the helmet up to question the brother straight to his face. “Then what,” she said slowly so as to not slur her speech, “is the point of asking you anything?”

“Because I know who made it- the ones who told the scientists to allow us to guard this place.”

That got Ed’s attention. His head snapped up and Becca could see him bite back a wince of pain, but this- another clue to track down- was far more important. “Who?”

“They’re-”

A sharp whistle flew through the chamber and suddenly there were two razor sharp… things speared through the older brother and pointed straight at Becca’s nose. As soon as it registered, Becca had shrieked and dropped the helmet, though it didn’t fall, suspended silently on the ends of the thin blades with a clean puncture in the center of the blood seal. A low, feminine voice sighed in the shadows. Becca’s eyes traced the blades back, straight back to the doors she’d come through. A woman stepped towards them, high heels clicking on the floor in half time with the tutting of her tongue as she criticized, “That was close, 48. You know you mustn’t go blabbing to nosy children that come in here.”

She didn’t even notice the second person emerge from the doorway until they spoke. “What the hell are they doing here?” they asked, leering at Becca and Ed. “The Fullmetal Pipsqueak and the… Magician, wasn’t it?” They crossed their arms over their chest and surveyed the rest of the scene. “What should we do with them?”

“Indeed, what troublesome children. How did you find this place?” The woman hummed. “No matter. We didn’t want anyone seeing this, but we can’t change what’s been done.” As she spoke, she retracted the spears into her hand. Before the helmet touched her, though, she had flicked it off like a bit of dirt under her nails. Becca narrowed her eyes, trying to discern where the spears were coming from since she hadn’t seen any light to indicate a transmutation, and realized that 48 probably was like a bit of dirt under her nails, given that the spears appeared to extend from her nails themselves. Horrified, Becca couldn’t even follow the head to where it clattered to the floor, too busy staring at the woman’s hand.

“Brother! Brother!” the body cried. The torso scraped across the floor as one Slicer used his arms to drag himself over to the other. He clutched the empty helmet and shouted, “Damn it, you bastards! We can still fight, give me my brother back and give us a new body and we can fight for you, we’ll-”

“Give me a break, you nitwit!” the other person said, rolling their eyes. They picked up 48’s fallen sword, swinging it around a few times before stabbing straight down. They barely missed the blood seal, but didn’t relent, skewering the armor again and again, repeatedly puncturing right next to or on the edge of the seal, making the remaining brother squirm and convulse as they chastised, “You almost killed, not one, but two of our most important sacrifices! More than that, you almost told them everything! Believe me, I’m doing you a favor rather than forcing you to explain yourself if the plan goes wrong because of you two! Say something, you stupid twat!”

Becca looked away, but when the continuous scraping finally quieted and the person still didn’t stop, she swallowed her fear down and begged, “Stop it! Please, he’s already gone, just stop it!”

The person poked the armor a few more times, then made a disgusted noise. “Weakling,” they scoffed, kicking the armor’s limp hand away. They stepped over the torso, past the legs, and sat back in their hip, sending a cocky smile at Becca and Ed. “But really, how are you two? Magician, you sure are looking lively.” Becca scowled, but they pressed on in a peppy voice. “It’s a little impressive you managed to make it this far, so well done!” They winced exaggeratedly. “But you did see some things you weren’t supposed to.”

“Envy…” the woman cooed, her lips quirking up into a smirk.

“Ah, right, I guess I should kill them too.”

Becca clenched her teeth, transmuted the end of her staff into a spear, and swiped at the person, not doing much damage outside of scratching them across the face, but forcing them to back off all the same. “I’d like… to see you… try,” she whispered.

Both of the newcomers’ laughter boomed across the open chamber and Becca had to resist the urge to close her eyes against the pain in her head as they kept advancing, like predators stalking their prey. And Becca was pretty damn tired of feeling like prey. She lunged forward again, only to be stopped short when the woman’s nails shot towards her again. A shooting pain made her vision white out, and it was only when Becca had already collapsed to her knees that the woman flicked her fingers away and droplets of her blood flew off that Becca realized she had dug the pointed ends into the existing wound on her side.

“Not so fast, girl,” the woman said, taking on an unprecedented threatening tone.

“Aw, the great Fullmetal Alchemist needs his little girlfriend to save him?” the other person said, sticking out his tongue mockingly.

Incensed, Ed struggled to his feet and a wordless battlecry left his lips as he kicked straight up at the person, who still, infuriatingly, managed to dodge. They laughed incredulously. “Would you look at that? The pipsqueak’s getting violent, I think I made it angry!”

“Don’t call me a pipsqueak!”

The person huffed and rolled their eyes. “I’ll call you whatever I want, pipsqueak . Especially since it seems like you have bigger things to worry about. Your little friend’s not looking so good.” They pointed at Becca, unable to stand and pushing herself back towards the column to see if she couldn’t use it as leverage, then cast an appraising look over Ed, bloody and sweaty. “And neither are you.”

“You’re the ones who started this,” Ed lashed out. “But I’ll sure as hell finish it-”

He brought his hands up, but instead of the usual clap, the only sound in the chamber was a heavy clunk right before his metal arm went limp. 

Ed stiffened. 

Becca’s eyes widened in alarm.

The woman raised a brow. “An automail failure?”

The person cheered. As quickly as Ed could move, he wasn’t fast enough to avoid them grabbing him by the braid, effortlessly holding him in place in order to ram a knee into his gut. Ed choked and Becca grimaced. His abdomen had already taken a beating, and that was apparently the final straw. He went limp, dead weight, the only movement being the coughs that wracked his body in order to force breath into his lungs and only being held up by the tight grip the person had on his hair.

“I was only joking about killing you,” they said sweetly, letting go.

Ed dropped like a rock next to her. Becca grabbed for his hand, clutching it and even sliding her thumb up to rest on his pulse point. His heart was racing, but it was reassuring all the same and she squeezed tightly, blocking out what their attackers were saying to focus all her energy on hoping, praying he was coherent enough to respond. She couldn’t get him out on her own, he’d have to be awake, otherwise there would be nothing she could do- 

One second.

Two seconds.

On the third second, ever so light, there was a squeeze back. Becca sighed in relief, resting her head on his shoulder.

“You guys are lucky you’re already so injured!” the person chirped. “Otherwise, I’d have to rough you up even more! So don’t forget that, alright?” They bent down, breath ghosting over Becca’s ear as they murmured, “We’re the ones allowing you to live another day.”

She shuddered and closed her eyes tightly, both to hide the fear their words prompted and to block the lightheadedness that was swamping over her. Vaguely, she felt something drop onto her head, which she assumed was Ed, as well as heard the woman’s casual tone- far too casual, in Becca’s opinion- murmuring, “Now what should we do with this ramshackle lab then? We can’t have them poking around again.” She chuckled faintly, all sounds fading rapidly while Becca tried to force herself to open her eyes, to stay awake and listen. “Or at least not give them any evidence when they do.”

“It would be so much easier to just kill them,” the other one snickered.

“Not with the plan this far into the last stages,” the woman said. “We need them.” Becca managed to pry her eyes open, only to see the woman toss her long hair over her shoulder and sashay away. “Besides, it’s not like they’ll actually do anything with the Stone.” She paused, staring up at a large mural carved into the wall, then looked over her shoulder, violet eyes meeting Becca’s. “So blow the place up.”

---

Why were they moving so roughly? It felt like the ground was shaking, or maybe Becca was just shivering-

---

Becca’s pudgy, mittened hand rubbed fat flakes of snow out of her face as she stumbled up the hill after the little wooden sled Will had borrowed from the innkeeper. She didn’t want to get left behind, but her father hadn’t wanted to risk their training schedule, so he’d insisted they both bundle up an absurd amount. In the midst of her waddling, she tripped face first into one snow bank. Tears automatically welled up in her eyes, and Will was by her side in an instant, bent down to one knee and brushing the ice off of her freezing cheeks with his free hand.

“Sorry,” she whimpered.

He was laughing. “Hey, hey, you’re okay. It’s alright. Come on, I did all this work to get Dad to let us have fun, don’t cry.” 

Becca buried her head in his stomach. “Don’t like cold,” she mumbled. “I wanna go home.”

“No, no, no, listen. We hardly ever get snow back home, you’re just not used to it. Go down the hill one time. You’ll like it, promise.”

“Come with me?”

“Of course.”

He offered his hand, sitting her at the forefront of the sled, then climbed on behind her and tightened his grip around her waist.

“Ready?”

She nodded, and Will kicked off from the top of the hill. “Hold on!” Will called as they neared the steep slope. Becca’s muscles tensed in anticipation and then squeezed Will’s hand around her middle and then-

They flew down the hill, bumping and rocking over the ridges, and Becca froze with instinctive terror. But with Will whooping happily behind her, chilly wind whipping around them, and the snow spraying up around them, she couldn’t stop a smile from stretching across her face and a small giggle from escaping.

“Alright, here comes the bottom,” Will warned, then dug one heel into the snow, bringing them into a sharp spiral and a slow stop. Overbalanced, Will tumbled off the edge of the sled, and Becca shrieked with laughter, climbing off as well to hurry over and jump onto his chest. “Oof! Becca!”

“That was fun!” she cheered, sitting up on his stomach.

“Wanna go again?”

“Yeah!”

“Okay, help me up, let’s-”

---

“-go… this way!” Metal on metal clanked nearby. Becca furrowed her brow. The sled was wood, not metal. So what was-

---

“How are you so big,” Becca panted, “and so fast?”

“Lots of practice,” Al said kindly, grabbing and easily twisting her fist to shove her to the ground. “And good training. But you’re holding your own very well, especially since you’re still healing.”

“And you’re too nice while you’re kicking my ass,” she complained. She tucked her legs under her, propping her chin up on her elbow, and gestured for him to sit next to her while she grabbed a drink. She offered him some, then faltered, then winced. “Oh, sorry, Al, I just-”

Al held up a hand. “Becca, please. I don’t mind. I like hanging out with you even if I can’t eat right now.”

She smiled, looking away. “Alright.”

She couldn’t comprehend how Al was so chipper and sweet in his situation, but she was glad he was. Something in the universe wouldn’t seem right otherwise. “Do you want to call that quits?” he asked. “You shouldn’t push yourself too hard when you’re still healing-”

“No way,” Becca said, bumping his shoulder with hers. “Even the Freezer can’t keep me down that easily. Just give me a sec to catch my breath.”

True to her word, it felt like only a few seconds until she was back on her feet and raring for another match. Al got up as well, faking a sigh, and readied himself again. Like he had all morning, they circled for a few moments, and then Al struck first. Becca managed to block a couple of his punches before his long leg tripped her up and promptly swept her feet out from under her. She lost her breath, but once she’d regained it, she just burst into laughter.

“Thanks for sparring with me,” she said sincerely, sitting up and rubbing her already sore back, “but that might have been my last round for today.”

“That’s okay,” Al replied. He crossed his legs and sat back on his hands, then scooted a bit closer to her. She leaned over onto his shoulder. “You’re really doing okay?” he checked in.

“I’m fine,” she said. “My neck is all healed up, the thing with MacDougal’s just a puncture wound, you know. I’m just a little out of practice since I haven’t had my dad running me ragged, that’s all.”

“Alright,” he said hesitantly. Given what she’d gathered from Al, he probably wouldn’t press any further, but his naturally sweet presence might practically elbow more details out of her if he didn’t let out a distracted little, “Oh! Hello!” and twist to the other side.

Becca peered around his breastplate, only to see an orange kitten nudging up against his gauntlet. “Oh, how cute,” she cooed, scritching the little cat behind his ears as Al scooped him up, the kitten seeming even smaller in his large hands. “Where did you come from?”

“He must be a stray,” Al suggested, allowing the kitten to scrabble up his arm and across his shoulder. “Maybe we could take him back to the dorm.”

She hummed sadly. “I don’t think he’d have much fun on the road. He could get hurt.”

Al sighed, disappointed, but offered the kitten his palm and lowered him down to the ground, allowing him to meow once before scampering out of the park and back towards the busier streets. “You think he’ll be happier here?”

Becca carefully laid what she hoped was a comforting hand on his shoulder where the cat had sat. “He’ll be fine. I’ve already seen a bunch of businesses putting leftovers and water out for strays. Let’s get out of here?”

He shook himself off, standing up to his full height and feebly joking, “Yeah, it’s almost noon. Brother might actually be awake by now.”

She chuckled, nudged his arm, and allowed him to guide her through Central.

---

“What happened…?”

“...How long…”

Becca was being shoved around, knocked against clothed figures, and she wasn’t moving on her own- someone was pulling her along, someone was holding her hand-

---

“The bank is this way,” Ed was saying, “and they set my account up right after I passed my test, but I didn’t check in before trying to access it the first time and I ended up having to call Colonel Asshole to verify that it was me and I hadn’t stolen my own watch.”

Becca still flinched a bit at the crudeness in reference to their commanding officer, but Ed seemed to miss it as he bounded up the stairs towards the bank’s large entryway. It was on the same street as the other military buildings, like the dorms, where Al had volunteered to stay and finish packing before they headed off to Youswell, and the library.“I mean you can’t blame them, it had to have been a little weird…”

Ed shrugged. “Either way, at least they- uh- recognize me by now, so I can vouch for you.”

“Recognize you specifically?”

“Because this branch is like my base since Mustang’s stationed here!” he said indignantly.

Becca covered her mouth as a laugh slipped through. “Of course.” She hummed thoughtfully, looking up when they entered. Contrary to the outside, the inside of the building was rather plain- well-furnished and clean, but nothing like the stately exterior. There was one counter in the center of the main room, flanked by lines of phones on the half nearest to them and doors leading to what Becca assumed were offices behind the tellers. The entire place, much like what she’d seen of headquarters, was utterly beige, with some incredibly tasteful splashes of gray. God, maybe once she’d paid her debt, some of her salary could go to getting the military a competent interior decorator.

And the silence. Their footsteps were muffled by the carpet, but somehow, they were still louder than the whispered conversations everyone else was having around them.

A teller in the middle of the counter was in the midst of a conversation on the phone when they approached. Annoyance flashed across her face for a split second before either professionalism or realization took its place.

“Fullmetal,” she greeted cordially. “How can I help you today?”

“We’re here for me, actually,” Becca said quickly, pulling her watch from her pocket. “Rebecca Harper, the Illusion Alchemist. I need to set up my account.”

The woman leaned over, raising a cool brow as she examined the watch- Becca’s watch, how strange was that- for authenticity. Ed, who’d stepped back, checked in with a thumbs up when Becca looked back at him, unsure of how long this process was supposed to take. “Alright,” she said after a moment of scrutinizing. 

She walked away without another word and Becca raised an eyebrow of her own. “So… is that all?”

“Paperwork,” Ed explained, coming up behind her as a line started to queue behind him. “People can be kinda weird about State Alchemists, plus the whole ‘kids ranking higher than them’ thing. Either way, they expect me to be rude and belligerent all the time. You get used to it.”

“Maybe they’re just weird about you. You did do something to be ‘recognizable’,” she reminded him hesitantly with a gratuitous use of air quotes.

Luckily, he didn’t seem offended at the jab, grinning widely and elbowing her in the side. He opened his mouth to shoot something back, likely to defend himself like he had before, when the woman came back with a sheaf of papers.

“The Fuhrer left specific instructions as to how your account was to be split up,” she droned, “so if you need to look over that contract it’s under the-”

“No need, I already discussed it with him,” she cut her off, then flushed as she muttered, “Sorry. Go on.”

The teller looked surprised for a brief second before seemingly remembering who she was talking to and setting her expression to a stony nonchalance. “Of course. In that case, just sign here, here, and here, please.”

Becca did just that, jotted down her account and ID numbers at the top of her journal, and tucked her watch back into her breast pocket while the woman filed her papers away. “Have a nice day,” she said listlessly.

“Thanks, you as well,” Becca said politely.

The woman blanched, blinking, surprised. Becca bit her lip, then waved. Ed bounded up to her with a bright smile. “Easy,” he said, bumping her shoulder. She paused, considering, then bumped him back as they hurried back into the sunlight and were immediately met with a large crowd of the early commute, rushing either way on the sidewalk.

“Great,” Ed huffed. Thoughtlessly, like the easiest thing in the world, he grabbed her hand to make sure they didn’t get separated. “Lucky we don’t have far to walk, yeah?”

Becca stiffened, then relaxed. “Y-yeah.”

Their eyes met and they pressed on through the swarm of bodies, sharing a secret smile between them-

---

 Vague pain spiked again with pressure on her torso. Did Ed lose his grip on her and she got hit by a damn car?

No, no, he wouldn’t have let that happen, he wouldn’t have-

---

“He wouldn’t have let us get seriously hurt, Mom,” Will reassured.

“Yeah, we were just sparring,” Becca echoed. “Dad would have stopped us if we were gonna get too hurt.”

Louisa let out a breath as she packed an ice pack onto the bruise on Becca’s stomach, stretched across the kitchen countertop. “Of course he would,” she said, and even at eight, Becca could sense the forced lightness in her voice while her gentle fingers danced across Becca’s numbing torso. “But Will, maybe you could be a little more careful with your sister?”

Will looked disgruntled, or maybe slightly guilty, and he kicked the air from where he’d perched on the kitchen counter. “I try,” he said earnestly. “But Dad insists-”

His mother silenced him with a sympathetic look. “I know, honey. I’m sorry. I know you’re trying.”

“And I don’t want him to go easy on me,” Becca interjected, sitting up. She winced, then laid back down. “Ow.”

The floor creaked, and Louisa froze. Will went still. Becca twisted to see the doorway, only to see an upside down version of her father lingering under the archway and shied away.

Her father growled, low. “You’re babying them,” he observed coldly.

“I’m making sure they’re healthy,” she shot back, standing up to make an ice pack for Will’s black eye.

He leaned over Becca, frowning. “You’re not always going to have someone to take care of you,” he spat. He turned over his shoulder, slamming the kitchen door as he went. All three of them flinched.

“Sorry, Louisa,” Becca muttered, curling up.

“Yeah, sorry, Mom,” Will said.

“Shh…” Louisa soothed, taking a turn to run her fingers down each of their cheeks with one hand. “It’s alright. I know you’re both doing your best.”

Becca leaned into her touch, then let out a whimper of pain as it stretched her torso.

Louisa opened her mouth, but the voice that came out, while familiar, wasn’t hers-

---

“Hold still for me, Illusion-”

---

“Louisa, what’s-”

She spoke again in a different woman’s voice, but it still wasn’t hers-

---

“When will they wake up?”

---

The scene was fading. She was fading. Becca reached out, arm clutching her stomach to stifle the pain as she cried out, “Please, don’t go, I’m sorry-”

---

A cold hand smoothed down her forehead. “It’s alright,” a high pitched voice reassured.

And though it wasn’t Louisa- it was growing more sure that it couldn’t be Louisa- and she couldn’t quite place it, she knew she recognized that voice. “You’re alright.” They- he, it was a he- hesitated, then added, “Rest now.”

---

When she shot up in a hospital bed, it had felt like only a few hours. There were no clocks, and it was dark, and briefly, Becca wondered if she’d even woke up at all, or if she was dreaming again. She could practically feel Louisa’s fingers tracing her abdomen for a second before the pain kicked in and she groaned.

“Good to see you too,” the commanding voice from when she’d been flashing between consciousness and sleep said from the shadows. Becca narrowed her eyes, realization dawning. “Sophie?” she asked, confused.

“Right in one,” the dark haired nurse said, a small smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“Where’s-”

Sophie raised an arm, pointing to Ed’s silhouetted form, peacefully still in a bed by the window. “The other boy is outside.”

“You didn’t let him in?” Becca asked, affronted. “He can sit in here-” She swung her legs over the side of the bed to go to Al, apologize for leaving him alone, but was stopped by a throb of protest from her stomach and back as well as a stern hand on her shoulder pushing her back down.

“He knows he’s perfectly welcome. He hasn’t taken us up on the offer,” Sophie said evenly, easing her back down. “Maybe he didn’t want to be in the way and he’ll come in when you wake up tomorrow. You slept through the day, but you’re not done recovering. Go back to sleep.”

“But what about-”

“Your wounds were superficial,” Sophie said, anticipating every question before it could be asked. “Nasty bruises and you’ll need to watch that laceration on your side, but some gauze and bandages were enough. Fullmetal had some internal bleeding and will have to take it easy until his stitches have come out-”

“Stitches?!”

“-so neither of you ought to be straining yourselves,” the nurse said forcefully. She didn’t let Becca get a word in. “Now lay back down and let your body rest. I’ll make sure the boy knows you’ve woken up.”

Becca wanted to protest. However, the prospect of more sleep was becoming more and more enticing the longer she was awake. “You’ll get Al to come in?”

“I can’t make him sit with you, but I will tell him you wanted him,” Sophie offered. “That is the best I can do.”

She nodded slowly, sinking back down against the pillows. “Alright… Goodnight, Sophie.”

“Goodnight, Illusion.”

“Mm… and thank you,” she mumbled.

“It’s just my job.”

“And you can call me Becca.”

She thought she saw Sophie smile a bit as her eyelids fluttered, and she heard a quiet, “Sleep well, Becca.”

Notes:

i hope you and your loved ones are all staying healthy and safe, and i'll see y'all in the next update! -c

Chapter 16: opia

Notes:

hello, my dears!

here's a nice long chapter because i kind of got carried away, but i really didn't want to split this one up into two smaller ones because i was on a roll lol. so you get one very long one, then probably a normal length one that's already written and edited, and then i've planned for all of rush valley to be one monster of a chapter, hence why i've allowed myself like a month to finish it.

and once again, there's been a metric fuck ton of planning for things that won't happen for another like 10+ chapters soooo... yeah.

anyway, i'm glad i already finished those because folks, i was shaking with rage all of yesterday and i was very unproductive in terms of writing in favor of watching the news as we here in the united states descended into chaos but... at least we got georgia?

opia (noun)- the ambiguous intensity of looking someone in the eye, which can feel simultaneously invasive and vulnerable

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

The unmistakable slap of skin striking skin jolted Becca awake, heart racing and eyes wide. And there was shouting. As years of experience had taught her, that was never a good sign. 

It took her a second to adjust, but by the time she’d registered Ross and Brosh standing between her and Ed, she’d already scrambled to the edge of her bed, and all three of them were staring at her. Becca’s eyes automatically fell to a bright red, though quickly fading, uncovered mark on his cheek and her breath caught.

Ross broke the silence first. “And you!” she said sternly. She didn’t yell, which soothed Becca’s racing heart slightly, and didn’t hit her, which soothed it a little more, but, much like Sophie did, she left no room for argument from her or Ed, lecturing them, “You both acted foolish! Not just foolish, but also extremely selfish! Major Armstrong said it was too dangerous to go by yourselves, and he was right! Look what happened!” She gestured wildly between them, up and down their bodies and, more specifically, the injuries they’d sustained. Becca didn’t have to look to feel the ache on her stomach and back, so she just looked away instead. Ross kept going. “Not even mentioning how this could affect the sergeant and I, you all could have died!”

Becca grimaced, an ashamed blush creeping up her cheeks. Ross was right, they hadn’t even thought about possibly bringing repercussions down on their caretakers by sneaking out.

However, in response to her face, the lieutenant’s voice did soften when she berated them again, massaging her temples. “Please, try to remember that you’re still children and you don’t have to do everything by yourselves. You can lean on other people.” She took a deep breath, face muscles relaxing. “You can lean on us . We’re supposed to protect you, but we can’t do that unless you trust us.”

Becca bit her lip and Ed looked up at them, guilt plain as day in his expression. “Lieutenant, I-” he started.

Without hesitation, Ross and Brosh shouted in official-sounding unison, “Please, excuse our abusive conduct inappropriate for our station, Majors! It will not happen again!”

“Wh-what?” Becca asked, head spinning with the sudden turn in conversation. “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Yeah, Becca’s right, we deserved that,” Ed agreed. He’d screwed his gaze down at his lap, eyes heavy with remorse. “I should apologize to you guys.” Becca opened her mouth to protest, but he shut her down with a look and a firm, “I was the one who wanted to go in the first place. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” Becca said quickly, before anyone, specifically Ed, could cut her off. “Don’t you interrupt me, Edward, even if you brought up the idea, I still went along with it, and I hadn’t considered what might have happened to you two if we got caught. That wasn’t fair.”

“And my punishment?” Ross asked. Becca raised an eyebrow, and she clarified, “For slapping Fullmetal? And shouting at both of you?”

She slapped him? Becca thought. That much have been what had woken her up and sent her into a panic. She shook her head and let out a breath. “Well, I’m not going to punish you. We need people to be frank with us sometimes.”

Ed laughed dryly, rubbing the back of his neck. “And I think I had that slap coming. It was really only a matter of time. Nothing from me either.”

As one, the lieutenant and sergeant almost collapsed against the wall with relief. Becca frowned. “Why are you two so worried about upsetting us? Have we made you think we’d punish you for telling the truth?”

“Are you kidding?” Brosh asked. “You do know you two are considered majors , right?”

“Well… I mean, yeah, but people aren’t usually scared of us,” Ed said.

“Yeah, we actually get talked down to a lot.”

“Either way, we didn’t get certified for the status, or so that people would kiss up to us.” Ed gave the pair a little half-smile, shrugging. “Al and I were just a couple of kids who wanted to use the library. You don’t have to act like we’re these high-ranking officers or anything like that.”

“Really?” Ross asked hopefully, looking between them.

Becca nodded slowly. “Of course.”

The officers blinked, then smiled brightly at each other. “I guess we were scared of a couple of brats for nothing!” Brosh chirped.

“How silly of us!” Ross said.

Ed huffed, meeting Becca’s eye. She just smiled exasperatedly. “They adjust quickly, don’t they?”

“Oh, hey,” Ed said, getting Ross and Brosh’s attention. “Where’s Al? I thought he’d be here.”

Becca furrowed her brow. “Yeah, I asked Sophie to make sure he knew he could sit with us when I woke up a couple hours ago. Have you two seen him?”

“We saw him alright,” Brosh admitted, holding up a swollen hand. “He got the same lecture you two did, but I was the one who slapped him.” He glared at Ross, who looked away while smiling innocently. “Kind of thought I got set up.”

All in quick succession, Ed burst out laughing, then cringed in pain, then cringed in apparent remembrance. “Oh, yeah, that reminds me- I have a whole other lecture in store for me.” He slumped back against the pillows and whined, “Winry’s going to kill me…”

---

Becca knew Winry wasn’t going to be happy with Ed, especially after she’d specifically told him (well, technically, she’d told Becca and Becca had told him [ Oh, God, am I going to get wrapped up in that? Becca asked herself. She sincerely hoped that she wouldn’t be on the receiving end of Winry’s wrench]) to go easy on his new arm after she’d had to change its composition. Add on the fact that they probably wouldn’t be able to leave Central until something had been done concerning the explosion at the Fifth Lab so Winry would have to drop everything and come up to see what the problem was since Ed didn’t trust anyone other than her or Pinako with his automail and there was a perfect storm in the forecast for one Edward Elric.

So she let him make the call by himself. 

Brosh excused himself to find a drinking fountain and Ross stayed in the room. They seemed to have agreed that a military hospital was well-guarded enough that they didn’t need to be followed everywhere. Left alone with the lieutenant, though, Becca ran a hand through her hair and snagged it on a knot. She blew out an annoyed breath.

“Could you let the nurses know I’m going to go find a shower?” she requested.

“But your wounds-”

“Can be redressed,” Becca said tiredly. “But right now, I feel disgusting, and it's been a long few days, and I- I just need a break, you know?”

Ross hesitated, then nodded. “I understand. I’ll make sure someone’s here to check you out when you’re done. Do you need any help moving around? I know you didn’t need any stitches, but-”

“Nah, it might-” She grunted, pulling herself up off the bed with the help of a railing around the side. Her breaths came a little heavier, but she managed to finish, “-might hurt a little.” She inhaled deeply, resting her head on the wall. “Okay. I'm good. Is there a cane or something in here?"

"Here." Ross offered a clean metal crutch that a nurse had left. 

Becca leaned heavily on the crutch, closed her eyes for a moment, then grit her teeth and limped towards the door. "Alright," she grunted. "I'll be back soon."

The nice thing about military buildings was that they were nothing if not organized to a tee. Finding a communal shower was easy enough, and, though there were a few others inside, the room was divvied into several small stalls to afford everyone a bit of privacy, with a space to get undressed and keep any belongings between the main space and the actual shower. Becca claimed a stall of her own and made a face at the hospital-issued products, sorely missing her own shampoo and soup back in the dorms. The cold water was expected, if a bit disappointing. Nevertheless, she stripped down, careful around the bandages on her torso, then gingerly pulled those off too. For the first time, she could actually observe her injuries, and sure enough, they were just what Sophie had described. Aside from the minor bumps and scrapes all over her body, up to and including a few on her face that had been obscured by plasters, a large bruise covered her abdomen with, if the dull throbbing was anything to go by, a twin on her lower back. It had been wrapped in a plain white bandage, not so much there to keep it clean as it was to make sure the oily salve coating them sat undisturbed. On her side, formerly covered by its own strip of gauze and tape, a bright red cut interrupted the mess of purples and blues. The laceration wasn't bleeding or oozing pus or something unsavory like that, but running her fingers over it proved to be a bad idea as the skin was still tender and wound up accomplishing nothing aside from making it hurt more. 

In that regard, she supposed the icy water wasn't so bad. Stepping under it numbed each sore area one by one, whether it be muscle, which she was honestly just registering, or an actual injury. She shut her eyes against the spray as she turned to face the showerhead and took a washcloth to her face, scrubbing as much as she could before it started to get painful and she had to move to the rest of her body. With any luck, she'd rub off all the essence of Lab 5 and those creepy people that still felt like it was polluting her very soul while in the pristine hospital.

The slight respite of a long shower turned out to be incredibly needed since Becca ended up having to convince herself to leave. Her stomach growled and she sighed. For years, Al insisted she eat when she was hungry, and, even if they had yet to actually see him, she knew she'd get an earful if he found out she'd skipped. In addition, despite his abrasive nature, Ed was a worrier when it came to anyone he cared about, albeit a surly one who practically shoved meals at her if she forgot or ignored them, and if he’d made it back from his phone call, he’d be saving her food whilst impatiently waiting to eat with her.

She turned off the shower, stepping onto the cold tiled floor outside, shivering for only a second before she’d wrapped herself in a white towel and set to drying off and pulling her linen clothes back on. Eventually, the only thing still dripping water was her mop of hair, which she squeezed as much as she could, leaving it frizzed up but a little drier. She slipped on her shoes, then left, exchanging a few smiles with a few other patients.

On her way back to the room, Becca was almost plowed over by a little kid holding a toy robot. “Sorry, ma’am!” the boy chirped.

“No problem,” Becca assured him, smiling softly, then followed his path back to the dark hallway he’d run out of. “Huh…” she said thoughtfully. She stepped forward carefully and peered around the corner, seeing a row of sinks, a few mirrors, an old couch, and… “Al?”

If she were in an old castle instead of a hospital, Becca might have thought she’d just stumbled across Al’s armor’s twin for how still he was. She had to call his name several more times before he reacted, and even then, it was just an easily missed twitch. He’d already been staring into space, red eyes somehow dimmer than normal, and his voice was listless when he stuttered, “O-oh, hi, Becca.”

“What’s up?” Becca asked, frowning.

“Are you looking for Brother?” Al said. Pointedly ignoring the question, he gestured back towards her and Ed’s room. “You just missed him, the sergeant took him back that way. Maybe you can catch up.”

She stepped a little further into the hallway, reaching out towards his shoulder. “I- no, hey, what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine, Becca, don’t worry,” he said firmly. His armor creaked as he looked away and he seemed to wince, whether it be at the sound or just to get away from her touch. Becca froze.

“Are you sure?” she said hesitantly. “You don’t seem like yourself.”

Al scooted further down the bench he was sitting on, further away from her. “Yeah. I’m okay. I just- I need a second. Brother told me where your room is. I’ll be there soon.”

She trained her eyes down at her feet, backing off into the lighter main hallway. “Alright…” she mumbled. “See you in a bit.”

“See you,” he said forlornly.

For a second, she slowed down, almost stopping and fighting the urge to turn around, but she told herself that Al had said he needed a moment alone and… well he’d never lied to her about that before. She understood, obviously, travelling with two others 24/7 could be exhausting, and they all occasionally had to take a siesta, but from what Becca understood, he’d had several seconds to himself- almost two days worth. Not to mention his generally sorrowful state.

She shook her head, trying to clear her mind. Al was fine. He had to be.

“Hey,” she greeted, pushing the door open. Sure enough, there was Ed, sitting on his bed with a tray full of steaming food in his lap and a matching one set on her bedside table.

“About time,” Ed said as she settled down atop the thin, top-layer blanket with her feet hanging off the side. They shared a laugh, though after he didn’t continue teasing her, Becca could tell that he was just as preoccupied as she was. While she started on her meal, she was struck with a horrible thought- could Al be upset that she left him right before he got attacked and didn’t come back to help?

No- no, he wouldn’t be freezing both of them out over that.

Still, she made a mental note to apologize for that as soon as he joined them. Anything to help get him out of whatever funk he’d fallen into.

But apparently everyone was acting strangely today since, once Ed had slowed down his intake of food, he relayed the weird calm and relative nonchalance Winry displayed during the call to Resembool.

“Did you tell her you got in a fight?”

Ed stuck his bottom lip out, nodding slowly.

“Maybe she’s not surprised because she knew your arm would break if you did anything too strenuous,” Becca suggested. “And you do tend to do things that normal people would find too strenuous.”

“Oh, God,” he groaned suddenly. “Maybe she’s just keeping her rage until she can actually unleash it on me in person.”

She started to laugh, covering her mouth and glancing away from Ed just as the door slowly opened. Al shuffled inside, head down, but Becca’s face lit up.

“Al!” Ed said excitedly, any anxiety about Winry’s impending arrival disappearing upon seeing his little brother.

“Hi, Brother,” Al said. His voice was feeble and he lumbered over to sit near the foot of Ed’s bed. Becca narrowed her eyes, subconsciously analyzing how he moved and producing conclusions before she could stop herself, each more upsetting than the last. Could the sluggish movement and lackluster attitude be something sustained from the fight? Was something wrong with his body and he wasn’t telling anyone? Or an attack that nicked his blood seal? She forced herself to shove those to the back of her mind.

“Hey, Al?”

“Hm?”

“I’m sorry I kinda… dipped on you back at the lab. The guys we were fighting said there was someone ‘taking care’ of you-”

“No, Becca, it’s okay,” Al said quickly. “I was fine. Brother needed you.”

“Al-”

“Don’t worry about it,” he said, resolute, and twisted away from her to stand in front of the window, surveying the hospital courtyard.

Becca’s voice, however, had frozen in her throat. She forced herself to swallow. “Okay,” she said quietly.

Ed had also halted, a spoonful of food halfway to his mouth. His eyes flicked to Al’s form, silhouetted against the sunny sky outside, then over to Becca. He mouthed a silent, You okay? to which she nodded and replied, Is he?

---

Over the breakfast hour, Ed was evidently bored, flicking through a stray magazine, Al was uncharacteristically silent and crouched up against the wall, Ross and Brosh were dozing by the door, and Sophie was hovering around Becca, smoothing the same sticky salve from the day before onto her bruises when her ears pricked up at the sound of running footsteps outside. Seconds later, the door slammed open and-

“My God!”

Ed yelped, bringing the magazine up to cover his face like that would protect him, while Sophie jolted and poked a particularly tender spot and Becca let out a short cry in response. 

“Hey, Winry… how was your train ride?” Ed said.

“You didn’t say it was this bad on the phone! You said the nurses were being overdramatic!” Winry said incredulously, surveying their injuries. Her wide eyes narrowed suddenly and she heaved a heavy breath. “You’re always worrying me!”

“They are being overdramatic!” Ed insisted. Becca noticed Sophie rolling her eyes and chuckled to herself, but Ed continued on the other bed, “I feel fine, but they won’t let me leave!”

“Heaven forbid- ow, sorry- that the healthcare professionals do their jobs and follow their training,” Becca noted, then twisted as much as she could towards Winry. “If it makes you feel better, Winry, I only look a little worse than I feel.” Sophie pressed gently on her ribcage to stick a protective bandage down so she could start wrapping it, making her flinch again, and she added, “Still hurts, though.” She smiled up at Major Armstrong, who’d come in after he’d exchanged pleasantries with the officers at the door. “And good morning, Major.”

Sophie hummed, raising a cool brow at Ed over her shoulder. “You weren’t the one with the most severe injuries, Miss Harper.” She stood, having finished redressing Becca’s wounds for the day, and crossed to Ed.

After waving her concern off with one hand and tossing back his last handful of strawberries with the other, he started taking off his own bandages as Sophie prepared a cleaning solution. “I heal quickly”

“But still…” Winry said, voice suddenly softer. “You’re really really hurt, aren’t you?”

Ed paused in his unwrapping. His eyes flickered up to Winry and he met her gaze head on, pausing for only a moment before giving a half-hearted, “I mean, I guess?”

“Oh…” she said meekly. Tentatively, she lowered herself to sit on the edge of Ed’s bed. “Ed, I’m so sorry,” she said, looking down at her lap, shaking. “Your automail broke because I didn’t do a good enough job maintaining it last time you came to Resembool, and now you’re both stuck here because of my mistake…” She looked over at Becca and offered, “I’m sorry to you too, Becca. I should have made sure everything was in perfect working order before I let you leave.”

“Winry…” Becca said, exchanging a panicked look with Ed that seemed to go unnoticed by Winry, if not literally everyone else in the room. Armstrong, Ross, Brosh, and hell, Sophie had paused cleaning Ed’s wounds to instead pay attention to them. Even Al had perked up slightly, straightening up to observe. They all looked like they were watching a particularly enrapturing train crash, simultaneously horrifying but impossible to look away from as they looked between Ed, Becca, and Winry.

“I-it’s not your fault!” Ed said suddenly. “You had said not to be too rough on it, a-and I totally ignored you by getting into this reckless fight- my arm was perfect, it’s always perfect when you do it!” He flapped his arms around wildly as he tried to explain, earning a stern look from Sophie as she actually had to dodge his wayward hands. “In fact,” he said, forcing a laugh, “my arm breaking probably saved us because I would have kept fighting otherwise- so- so just don’t worry about it, okay?”

Becca was nodding through his whole speech, occasionally punctuating it with her own remarks. “Yeah, he was pretty reckless,” or, “We would have kept going if it hadn’t broken when it did.”

“It… worked out okay?” Winry muttered to herself, contemplating. They all held their breaths until she leapt off the bed, energy renewed. “Well, that’s great! Now before I get started on maintenance, let’s talk pricing since I had to rush all the way up here-”

That was certainly a quick turnaround, Becca thought to herself.

However, as Winry lugged her toolbox up onto the bed next to Ed’s legs, she knocked the nearly-empty breakfast tray and spilled a few drops of the full bottle of milk Ed always left untouched. She turned to saddle him with a firm stare. “You didn’t drink your milk.”

Ed set his jaw in response, affixing his gaze on a passing bird outside the window. “Of course I didn’t. I hate milk.”

She stomped one frustrated foot and snapped, “Don’t give me that crap! You’ll be a half-pint midget forever at this rate!”

“I don’t have to drink it if I don’t like it!” he flung back.

“You’re sounding very spoiled, Edward Elric!” Armstrong boomed.

Everyone else seemed to take that as a pass to speak freely, since the lieutenant and the sergeant commented that milk was necessary for growth (with Sophie citing medical knowledge to back her up) and how girls would like him more if he were a bit taller respectively, and Becca ribbed him a bit by finishing the last of her milk right over Winry’s shoulder, where she knew he could see her.

The only one who didn’t take part in the casual bickering was Al, who had gotten to his feet silently and snuck out the door, Becca only noticing because his long, white hair and breechcloth had swished around the door and drawn her eye. 

“Al?” she called, getting the others’ attention. The jokes died down at once at the out of character display and Becca was left with nothing more than a confused noise in the back of her throat.

---

“What’s up with Al?” Winry asked, settling down once Ed had stretched his metal arm out across a wheeled cart next to his bed. Armstrong and Sophie had left, each citing other work they had to get to, leaving their room feeling significantly emptier without them and Al.

He sighed heavily, screwing his lips into a small scowl. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “He’s been acting weird lately. He’s not talking as much, like there’s something on his mind. But he won’t tell me anything.”

“Do you think he’s still in shock from when I hit him?” Brosh asked worriedly.

Becca tried, but couldn’t hold back a little laugh. “No, sorry, I don’t think that’s it.”

“Yeah, no offense, but he did get half of his body blown up a few weeks ago,” Ed pointed out.

Winry bent over to grab a wrench, muffling her words slightly. “I wonder if he’s worried about something.”

“Maybe…” Ed mumbled absently. “If that was it thought, I don’t know why he wouldn’t tell me or Bex. Yesterday, I tried to talk to him after I called you and he hardly gave me the time of day.”

“Same.” Becca placed her tray on her nightstand, then stood and moved over to the end of Ed’s bed, sitting down with her knees pulled up to her chin against the footboard. “He was sitting in some tiny hallway and wouldn’t even let me sit near him. He kept scooting away.”

“Ooh, I’ve got it!” Brosh exclaimed. “Maybe he’s got a bit of a crush on you, Becca!”

Ed choked, though it was at the same time that Winry inserted a stray screw in his shoulder, and Becca felt her cheeks warm up at that notion. “Please don’t mistake my brother for people like you ,” Ed sputtered, burying his face in the pillow.

With that screw, though, Winry finished her work on his arm and pushed away from the bed. “Don’t pout, Ed. Go on and stretch it out.” Ed jumped up, whooping, and Winry got started packing up her things. “Now, don’t make me regret fixing it before the doctors cleared you to move around freely again. You still need to heal-”

“Hey, Ed! The nurses are saying you brought a pretty blonde girl in here to service you!”

Just as quickly as her blush from the sergeant’s accusation had calmed down, it returned full-force with Lieutenant Colonel Hughes bursting through the door, along with an uncomfortable pit in her stomach, the knowledge of which she pushed to the back of her mind. At least she wasn’t alone in the embarrassment this time since both Ed and Winry were equally red-faced at the insinuation.

“She’s just my automail mechanic!”

“Ah, you’ve seduced your mechanic, eh?” Hughes said, nodding sagely.

“That is not what I said, were you listening to me?”

Ignoring him again, Hughes strode over to Winry, shaking her hand enthusiastically. “Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes, nice to meet you.”

“I’m Winry. Winry Rockbell.”

“It’s great to see you sir, but aren’t you supposed to be at work?” Ed said suspiciously.

Hughes laughed. “Don’t worry about it! I’m on a break.”

“I thought you said you were pretty busy right now, Lieutenant Colonel,” Becca prompted, resting her cheek on her knees.

“We are,” he assured cheerily, “but I’ve been giving Sheska some overtime! She’s really been invaluable!” At that, Becca blew out a puff of air between her teeth, picturing the bespectacled bookworm probably collapsed over a pile of paperwork. Poor Sheska. “I’m not just visiting you, though. I did have a reason to come down here. There’s been some new developments in East City concerning Scar and I think you’ll be happy to know that we’re in the process of clearing you to go on without escorts ASAP.”

“New developments…?” Becca said warily. “What kind of new developments?”

Ed, on the other hand, was grinning. “Who cares? Whatever lets us lose the babysitters is fine by me!”

“Hey! We did help save your life!”

“Yeah, what do you think would have happened if we weren’t there?”

“Hold up!” Winry interrupted indignantly. “How much trouble have you been making to warrant being guarded?”

Crossing his arms and turning away, Ed huffed, “It’s nothing you need to worry about..”

Winry wilted, but she still glowered at him from under her bangs. “I shouldn’t have even asked. You never tell me anything. I don’t know why I even try.” Suddenly though, her eyes brightened slightly and she swivelled to the other end of the bed. “Becca…”

Becca’s eyes widened. “Ah- well- you see- I assume Ed told you about getting in a big fight-”

“Becca!” Ed cut her off, looking betrayed.

“I’m sorry!”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal, Winry.”

She looked between the two of them, gaze sliding up and down the bed a few times to see if one of them would break, but eventually she had to give up. “Whatever. I don’t have time to argue about this right now. I’ve got to find somewhere to stay the night.”

Ed did look at least a little put out at that and offered, “I could put you up in a hotel for the night if you like.”

“Come on, there’s no need for that,” Hughes said genially. “I’ve hosted these three in the past, so you’re more than welcome to spend the night at my place.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t possibly ask-”

“You’re not asking if I’m the one suggesting it,” he insisted. “It won’t be a problem, my wife and daughter would be thrilled to have you.” Winry looked like she was going to keep protesting, but Hughes grabbed her arm in a tight grip that would be concerning if Becca didn’t know the man was just a very keen host as opposed to a kidnapper. “That’s settled! Let’s go, I’ll take your bags-”

The door slammed shut behind them. Ed tilted his head, staring after them. “At least it’s not just us he’s pushy with.”

---

Becca almost missed Al returning that night since she was teetering on the edge of sleep when he snuck around the door as quietly as he could. A rather useless gesture, Becca thought, given that her and Ed had both agreed to give him his space but wanted to stay awake to make sure he made it back safe. After nearly nodding off one too many times, she’d made Ed scoot over and dragged her blanket to his bed so they could help keep each other awake with whispered, teasing scoldings whenever someone’s eyes closed for a few seconds too long.

“Are you-” she said out of nowhere, visibly startling him. “Oops, sorry, Al. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, Winry missed you,” Ed added. “And we’re all worried.”

“Fine,” Al said shortly. “Just go to sleep. You both need your rest.”

He sighed dejectedly. “You promise you’re okay?”

“Promise, Brother.”

Ed tried to keep eye contact with his brother, but Al, intentional or not, wouldn’t look at him, intently focused on the floor in front of him. Slowly, his head drooped, resting squarely on Becca’s shoulder. Becca tried to resist sleep as well, and yet within a few minutes, with Ed’s breaths levelled out and the otherwise nearly silent hospital, she couldn’t fight it any longer and let her eyes flutter shut.

---

Waking up in Ed’s bed instead of her own had certainly been a confusing start to the day. And that was somehow the most normal part. Palpable tension filled the suddenly too small hospital room, practically radiating off of Al. Becca had barely spoken a word for fear of setting him off, and neither had Ed, at least until breakfast was served.

Luckily, she’d moved back to her own bed before another nurse (not Sophie, to Becca’s dismay, because she would have given at least a little bit of a feeling of familiarity) brought in their food. She did not stick around.

As per usual, there was a bottle of milk provided for each patient, and, as per usual, Ed could not resist complaining about it.

“So we meet again, you little bastard,” he grumbled, leaning down to level the bottle with a harsh glare. “I told everyone once yesterday and I’ll tell you again today, I am not going to drink you.”

“Brother, your body is a living body that needs to be nourished,” Al said tiredly. “You need to drink it.”

“No one can make me if I don’t want to,” Ed retorted. “Nobody’s noticed, but I have gotten taller recently, I can feel it. I’ll get a nurse to check before I leave.”

“Ed,” Becca pleaded. She could sense something brewing, like a monster was writhing inside of Al and Ed’s grievances against milk, usually a source of playful mockery, was instead egging it on. “Please, just drink the damn milk.”

He sulked, picking apart a piece of bread. “You’re lucky, Al. I wish my body was as big as yours.”

Becca’s jaw dropped at the thoughtless remark.“Edward!” she said harshly.

Al stood up suddenly, metal feet clanking harshly against the tile floor and the stool he was sitting on tipping over, and he shouted, “I never asked for this body!”

Ed stiffened.

“Alphonse!” Becca interjected, trying to slow the arrival of the now inevitable argument.

“No, I- I’m sorry, Al. That was out of line for me to say, I’m sorry,” Ed repeated quietly. “You’re right. It’s my fault you’re like this, but I’ll fix it, I will. You’ll be back in your original body before you know it.”

“You always say that! But we’re not making any real headway!” Al continued to shout. “Can you promise me that you’ll ever get my body back? Can you promise I even have a body?”

“Of course I promise!” Ed said, an uncomfortable smile forcing its way onto his face.

“Where is all this coming from?” Becca asked. “You’ve never doubted that we’ll get there, not like this-”

“How can I not doubt it while I’m stuck in this body? Why shouldn’t I doubt my memories?” Al gestured to his chest, banging his fist against it for emphasis. “When you think about it, memories are really just information that could be fake- just made up, like any other data!”

Ed shrank backwards. “What are you talking about?”

“Before we went to the lab, you said you wanted to tell me something- something that you’d been too scared to say until then,” Al said. That must have been what Ed had asked her to leave for, so he could tell Al… something that had evidently shaken him up. “Armstrong interrupted before you could spit it out, but I think I know what it is: you wanted to tell me that my soul, my memories, everything about me was all just artificial information created by you! That you lied to me, Winry, Granny, they all lied to me all this time! Is that it?” He had stepped forward, chin up like there was some way he whole-heartedly believed what he was saying. But that wasn’t possible- that couldn’t be possible. It wouldn’t make any sense, and Ed wouldn’t do that. Who had given Al this idea and what had they said to make him trust it? “What do you have to say for yourself?”

Becca flinched as Ed slammed both fists down on his breakfast tray, scattering the meal everywhere. All three of them fell into surprised silence except for Ed’s heavy, distressed breathing.

“So that’s what you’ve been keeping pent up and hidden from me in that head of yours? Are you done, or did you have any more revelations?” His shoulders tensed more and more as the silence stretched on.

Al didn’t respond.

“Fine,” Ed said coolly. He placed his tray aside, oddly calm, and stalked past Becca’s bed where she realized she’d pulled the blanket up to her chin sometime during the one-sided shouting match. The only sign of his true feelings occurred when he left the room and purposefully slammed the door behind him.

She swallowed the whispering fear that had engulfed her chest and muttered, “Al…”

His only reply was to turn away, back to the window, and avoid looking at her.

Becca’s lip quivered of its own accord and she stumbled out of bed, almost getting tangled in the blanket, and into the hallway. She only made it a few steps before Ross caught her and she saw Winry and Hughes running over.

“What happened?” Winry asked breathlessly. “Ed just went that way, I tried to say good morning, but he didn’t say anything-” She pointed the opposite way that she had come. “I thought he might have not heard me-”

“Al finally cracked and said why he’s been acting so weird,” Becca explained, breaths coming in short, quick bursts as she tried to calm herself down. “It was- it was really bad. Somehow, he got it into his head that Ed had- had created him, and that everyone who knew him when he had his body was just lying-”

Winry stepped backwards, eyes wide. “Why would he think that?”

“I don’t know,” Becca confessed. “I can’t make any sense of it- of why he’d ever think that- but it hit Ed hard, obviously, and Al’s still in the room but he didn’t want to talk to me- he must be hurting too, he wouldn’t have lashed out like that otherwise-”

Ross set Becca on her feet and Winry squared her shoulders. “I’ll go talk to Al. Go find Ed.”

Becca nodded. “Okay.”

“I’ll send Al to find you guys when I’m done with him.”

That got a small smile out of her and she started walking where Winry had indicated earlier. “Okay.”

“Go! Hurry!”
“Okay!”

---

Multiple nurses steered her in the right direction, saying that they’d tried to stop Ed but he’d plowed on listlessly no matter who was trying to speak to him. Their pointing fingers lead Becca to the door to the roof. She pushed it open and stepped out into the sunlight, surveying the open area for any sign of the older Elric. Thankfully, since she didn’t think her nerves could take the stress of having come to the wrong place, she didn’t have to look far. Ed leaned over the edge of the railing, barely visible between a few rows flapping on laundry lines. His chin rested in one hand and he hardly reacted when Becca tiptoed up beside him, a slight glance out of his peripheral being the only indication he’d even noticed.

She didn’t quite know what to say. Certainly nothing she said would fix the problem that had just reared its ugly head, so the best she could do was distract until Winry had gotten through to Al.

“That move you did back in Lab 5 was pretty smart,” she prompted. “The one you used when you beat the second brother. Where’d you learn that?”

A ghost of a smile flickered across his face. “From Scar,” he said softly. “When he was fighting Armstrong. Since he was so much bigger than him, he had to provide an opening to get any hits in. I just saw the opening.”

“Show me?” she asked before she could stop herself, then winced. “Sorry, you probably don’t want to- right now-”

“No, I- I don’t mind. I’ll do it on you considering you’re bigger than me.” He stepped away from the rail, not with his usual amount of energy, but at least not as lethargic as before, and bent into a defensive stance. “Take a few swings at me. I’ve fought with you so much, I think I know what I’m doing, but just to make sure.”

She obeyed, making sure to not actually strike him, but trying to be as close to she naturally was as she could. He studied her intently, dodging the first few before striking quickly, landing an easy hit that sent her stumbling back a few feet. She was unable to stop a surprised laugh. “How’d you do that?”

Ed stood up a little straighter with the praise and, a little spunkier, informed, “You’re already a pretty defensive fighter so when you jab with one hand, the other usually comes up to protect that spot. But sometimes you have to use your opposite hand to balance, and when that happens, there’s your opening.”

“Seriously?”.

“Here, go again, slowly. I’ll show you what I mean.”

Using the same pattern from before, she went at him again, significantly slower. Sure enough, right when he said there would be, at that speed, it was rather obvious that she had to leave her entire chest open in order to get a powerful strike in. He knocked his fist against her sternum, mimicking an actual punch. “Right there. For 48, it was his side with the sword because he had to open up so much to stab with it.”

Becca breathed out an impressed chuckle. “You,” she said, “are so… clever.”

“I know,” Ed preened, an actual smile fighting its way onto his face.

There it is, Becca told herself, finally calming down fully as she found a set mission. A way to reassure him, maybe get him to talk to her, but not push. “And you’re creative, and you’re kind, and you- you’re honest, you’re stubborn- and you’re somehow the most irreverent person I know and the most humble person I know at the same time and I don’t understand it.” She shook her head, giving a watery chuckle. Oh, God, am I crying? Why am I tearing up? Who said I could do that? Ed had stepped back, then towards her, then back again, torn between comforting her and giving her her space and startled into stillness. He looked… unsure, which absolutely would not fly, so she continued, “You’ve never lied to me, not once- okay, well, maybe a couple times, but never anything big and it was always to try and help me so I forgive you- and you know I hate eating by myself so you wait for me even when you’re hungry… And you can joke with me and Al, but when it comes down to it, you’d do anything for us.” She reached out to rest a hand on his shoulder, voice dead serious. “And we’d do the same for you. I would. Al would. I don’t know what he heard, but it’s wrong, and I’m sure he knows that, deep down. Because, above all else, you, Edward Elric, are good.” She closed the gap between them slightly so she could tap on Ed’s chest, right above his heart. “You have a good heart.”

“Becca…”

“I’m not done.” She forced herself to take a shaky breath, flattening her palm against Ed’s body. “Don’t deny it. I’m lucky to have you as my friend. And Al’s lucky to have you as a big brother. He knows that,” she repeated firmly, then a little softer, “he knows that.”

For a moment, she could only hear the wind rustling through the sheets and their hair as his eyes flicked over her face, searching for earnest intent until-

“Is he lucky though?” he whispered, leaning forward until he’d sagged onto her shoulder. “I’ve been a pretty shitty brother. I trapped him in a body where he can’t eat, he has to spend all his nights alone because he can’t sleep. You said you tried to touch him, but he wouldn’t have been able to feel it even if you had, and I did that to him. I pushed him, and he took the fall. I- I got off too easy compared to him. I wouldn’t blame him if he did hate me for it, but to think that I just made him up? You don’t think that, do you?”
“‘Course I don’t,” she assured.

There was a brief lapse of quiet, and then-

“Why would he- why would he say all that?”

As lightly as she could, she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. “I don’t know. I’m sorry. My best guess would be that someone told him, and that combined with being unsure about what you didn’t get a chance to say-”

“That was it. What I wanted to say.” Ed said bluntly. “I wanted to know if he hated me, or blamed me for what happened.” He laughed bitterly. “Guess I have my answer.”

“He doesn’t hate you,” Becca said. “We’ve all been stressed lately, and that can make people act in ways they wouldn’t usually act. I’m sure that’s it, nothing more. Just talk to him once he calms down, and I’m sure you two can work it-” The door creaked open behind Ed, so Becca was the first to see Al when he appeared in the doorway. Her voice trailed off, “-out…”

Al shuffled shyly onto the roof. “Brother-” he started.

Ed’s body went a bit more rigid against hers and he stood up, pivoting slowly on his heel to face Al. “You know what? With all the sitting down and researching and waiting around we’ve been doing lately, I haven’t had a good workout in ages. My body’s gotten pretty weak.” He kicked off his hospital slippers, stretching his arms exaggeratedly over his head while Al stood motionless, then, with no other warning, rushed him.

“Hey!” Al objected, moving out of his way. Ed stopped easily and redirected himself towards Al again, who continued to try and swerve out of his way, never hitting back even as Ed kept hammering at him. “Brother! Wait a second! Stop!” Ed punched him, then kicked up with his metal leg, nudging him back a few feet and keeping him off balance. 

“Be careful!” Becca called worriedly.

“Brother, you’re going to hurt yourself, your wounds haven’t healed enough for a fight!”

Ignoring them both, Ed grunted, flipping backwards (probably ripping his stitches again ), and when Al shifted to protect his helmet against another strike, Ed grabbed a sheet from where it was drying and tossed it over him, the crumpled sheet flapping out in midair and sinking down over Al’s eyes. Ed bent, clutching his side with his flesh hand, but didn’t stop. He deadlegged his brother with his other hand and, when Al went down, kicked up to knock him in the chin, sending him sprawling onto his back. He drew himself up, taut frown overtaking his face. “I finally beat you!” he proclaimed. “For the first time ever, I won!”

He then immediately sunk to his knees as well, though he clearly tried to block out the pain undoubtedly screaming at him from all sides and instead stretched out on his back, the top of his head nearly brushing against Al’s.

“That was cheating,” Al said, sulking.

Becca crossed her arms. “And that was definitely not talking.”

“Oh, that’s rich. A win is a win and you know it. And you-” He pointed vaguely in Becca’s direction, “-said we’d work it out. I did.”

“Yeah, I said that right after I said you should talk to him,” she pointed out. “So talk. You need to actually figure this out, not just beat the crap out of each other until you forget why you were mad to begin with.”

Ed let out a long, drawn out sigh. “We’ve always fought like this, right, Al? Especially when we were little.”

“Uh-huh…”

“And a lot of it was pretty stupid stuff.”

“Exactly,” Al agreed, sounding fond. “We argued about who would get the top and bottom bunk on our bed.”

“Candy too, remember? We liked the same stuff and we never wanted to share.”

“And that toy- the little puppy. I won that one. And that time we played with sticks at the river.”

“You mean when you ‘poked’ me so hard with yours I fell in?”

So Ed’s fallen in that river multiple times, Becca noted with a quiet laugh, and he still didn’t learn to keep away from it? He must have not changed a bit since he was little. She stepped back, giving them a little bit of a bubble as they reminisced.

Al giggled, then changed the subject. “Remember when we would fight during training?”

“And Teacher would say we were being too loud and annoying, then beat us up herself and gave us extra chores for the next week? I think we should call that one a tie.”

“We even fought over who’d get to marry Winry when we got old enough,” Al recalled.

Becca raised her eyebrows. The same uncomfortable feeling from the day before stirred in her stomach again. She bit her lip and tried to disregard it.

“What?” Ed’s head snapped to the side and he twisted to try and get a better look at his brother. “I don’t remember that one!”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Al said exasperatedly. “I won. And I asked her. But she turned me down.”

They sat in reflective silence for a few seconds. Ed even closed his eyes against the bright sunlight, then opened them and asked, “So all this time you’ve thought that those memories were all lies?”

“I- no. No, I didn’t. I’m sorry, Brother.”

“And your determination, getting your body back, all that hope for the future you have- is that fake too?”

“No. It’s not a lie. My body is real, and so is the possibility of getting it back.”

Ed grinned, clenching his fist. “Hell yeah, it is. We said from the beginning, we’re in this together. I’m not giving up until you’re back to normal-”

“And you too,” Al interrupted.

“-We’re going to keep pushing forward. We have to keep growing our skills, getting stronger, faster, smarter, and we will get our bodies back. You hear me?”

Al hummed, like he was considering the offer, then assented, “Yeah, I hear you.”

Ed raised his fist into the air between them. Al brought his own up to bump it.

“Whatever it takes, Brother,” Ed said solemnly, flipping his usual honorific onto Al. “We can’t stop. We won’t stop.” He put his arm down and cringed and Becca decided that, while heart to hearts were nice, medical attention was probably very needed at the point and decided to step in.

“Except we’re stopping right now,” Becca said, leaning over both of them. “Just for a break, yeah?”

“Yeah, that’s probably not a bad idea,” Ed groaned. He pushed himself up to a sitting position, rubbing his gut where the stitches were.

Al sat up as well, then reached over, hooked his hands under Ed’s arms, and hoisted him to his feet, supporting most of his weight even as Ed sputtered out protests. “You’re a dummy sometimes, Brother,” he sighed. “You had to go and overwork yourself to prove a point, huh?”

They lumbered towards the door, movements a bit clumsy, where Winry and Lieutenant Colonel Hughes had arrived during the boys’ sparring session-turned-talk. Seeing the blonde girl reminded Becca of how Ed and Al had apparently both wanted to marry her when they were younger, and that brought the pang in her gut up to the surface once more. Winry, however, was oblivious to whatever Becca was feeling at that moment and offered her a wave, which Becca tried to force a smile and return.

“You coming, Bex?” Ed asked when he noticed she hadn’t followed them to the door.

She blinked quickly, trying to process the question. “I- um- yeah. Sorry. I’ll be there in a minute.” When Ed gave her a confused look, she explained, “The air in there- it’s so stuffy, I’m just going to enjoy the fresh air for a bit.”

“Oh.” He seemed to relax a little. “Okay.”

And they were gone, leaving Becca alone with her thoughts. She slid down the railing, leaning her head back against the cool metal when she was low enough. A tiny smile alighted her face when she remembered the feeling of Ed’s hand resting on her cheek while she slept at the library, a little similar to the rail here. However, before she could get too lost in that memory, she shook herself out of it. 

Where the hell did that come from? 

The fond memories.

The “aesthetic” appreciation during the sunset in Resembool.

The uncomfortable feeling in her stomach that only seemed to show up when Ed was mentioned with Winry- could it be the slight lickings of jealousy?

Unthinkingly, she got to her feet and started to pace. All the puzzle pieces were falling into place.

“Wait a second,” she said out loud. Do I have a crush on Ed?

She’d read about crushes, of course, and Will had told her about what a crush felt like- you were always blushing and bashful, and you realized things about people you could have known forever that you never noticed before- but she’d never had one! She’d never had the opportunity!

...But what if she had had the opportunity?

For just a second, she let herself indulge, imagining being with Ed as more than friends, and her heart fluttered. And then she snapped herself back to reality with a firm shake of the head.

The Elrics were her very first friends, the first people she’d ever interacted with who were her own age. Not to mention that Ed was her partner. They had to trust each other. This crush- it could ruin everything if Ed didn’t feel the same way. Which he very well might not, given the years-long relationship (romantic or otherwise) he’d had with Winry. And Winry, heaven forbid, if Winry liked Ed, she would never be able to forgive herself for hurting her.

That was when she remembered the other thing about crushes. According to Will, who she believed was a reliable source for this sort of thing since he was the only one of the two of them to go to regular school and therefore had multiple crushes before, a crush, if left unacted upon, would eventually go away.

So that was what she had to wait for. With any luck, it would just be a passing fancy and she could get over it easily and move on. It wasn’t like she’d have any shortage of distractions anyway.

That was it.

Problem solved.

Or problem set to be solved, at least.

And until then, she would just have to act like nothing had changed.

With that little crisis resolved, Becca pulled herself together with a deep breath and made her way back to their room. She heard the sounds of bickering through the door and worried for a second that Ed and Al were fighting again, but then there was a peal of laughter and she relaxed. Everything was back to normal.

She pushed open the door and announced, “I could hear you out in the hall. Glad to know everyone’s cool again.”

“Bex, good, you’re here,” Ed said eagerly from where he’d been sitting on the edge of his bed. “We’re trying to figure out if Al and I fought more than other siblings and Al and Winry say it’s insensitive-”

“Because it is,” the two chorused together.

“-But I have to know, did you and your brother fight like we did?”

Becca couldn’t stop a laugh at the absurdity of the question. “I mean…” She sat down on her own bed, pulling her legs up to sit criss-cross against the headboard as she thought about it. “We had super brief spats pretty rarely… I’d say we were both pretty busy putting up a united front against our dad, so we never got the chance.” She shrugged. “Maybe that’s what he’s been doing. Making up for lost time.”

The other three all stared at her, wide-eyed. Becca paused, wondering if maybe that remark was too dark. Ed lasted about thirty seconds before a tiny laugh escaped and he couldn’t stop it. At that cue, Becca giggled as well, and even Al and Winry chuckled after getting over their shock.

Becca tried not to look over at Ed. She couldn’t help it if she liked it when he smiled with all his teeth across the room at her. And she definitely couldn’t help it if her cheeks went pink when he did.

Notes:

i hope you and your loved ones are all staying healthy and safe, and i'll see y'all in the next chapter! -c

Chapter 17: altschmerz

Notes:

hello, my dears!

first things first, i'm not 100% sure what's gonna happen but i'm planning on going back and renaming most if not all of the chapters so if it keeps saying the story updated that is just going to be me being annoying i'm so sorry lol.

anywayyyyy...

boy howdy chapter 18 is giving me a rough time. i was aiming for getting all of rush valley into one chapter and then... that's not happening. so there's going to be at least 2! possibly 2.5! i like to think that's a good thing!

college letters are annoying and i have to start up with scholarship essays so moral of the story do not grow up and become an adult! i'm super sleep deprived but i had to get this out to y'all because i love you!!!

altschmerz (noun)- weariness with the same old issues that you’ve always had—the same boring flaws and anxieties you’ve been gnawing on for years

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Inevitably, while Sophie wasn’t the nurse who sutured Ed’s injury from surgery, she did wind up making a specific stop in their room for the sole purpose of scolding Ed, then threatened to forbid him from leaving until fully healed (which could be up to eight full weeks) if he wasn’t more careful.

“You can’t make me stay!” Ed whined.

“You sure you wanna test that?”

Becca held her hand up as she passed, and Sophie surprised her by actually obliging and tapping their palms together in a casual high-five. Ed stammered angrily and was only abated when Armstrong arrived, summoned to the hospital by Hughes, equipped with a pad of paper and a few sheafs of their notes from before they’d broken into the lab. Then he was quick to get down to business, and when Hughes prompted them for the story, he took the lead with Al and Becca interjecting when needed.

“I didn’t see anything too weird until I got to this big room in the middle of the building and I got attacked-”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Becca interrupted. “You didn’t deem the vats of that red crap weird enough to stop?”

“What?”

Hughes frowned. “Red stuff? Was it blood?”

“No, it was way too thin to be blood, but one room had gallons of it. It kind of glowed, but I didn’t have time to poke around to see what it was.”

“Could it have been red water?” Armstrong suggested. “It’s an alchemical amplifier that the government has been working on since the Ishvalan conflict.”

Ed scowled, bunching his fists in his lap. “Are you sure that it’s an amplifier on its own? It sounds like something that could be a sort of precursor to the Philosopher’s Stone.”

They all fell into silence at the reminder of the Stone. Armstrong spoke first. “I’ll look into its creation as much as I can without looking suspicious.”

“Go on, Ed,” Hughes encouraged.

“So the ones who Becca and I fought called themselves 48, but it turned out they were the Slicer Brothers,” he said. “A pair of serial killers from thirty years ago, if you guys know anything about them.”

“48?” Al asked suddenly. “The guy who attacked me said he was Barry the Chopper and his number was 66!”

Becca, who’d already been cleared to get back into her own clothes over lunch, paused in patting down her pockets. Her hand flew to her side, she pulled the triad of journals out, and flicked through the first few pages of the one labelled ‘48b’. They were about the size of Ed’s travelogue, bright red but distinctly dirty, as if they had been left on the floor before someone had put them on the shelf in Dr. Harkins’ personal library.

“Oh? What do you have there, Rebecca?”

Instinctively, she snapped the book shut and looked up at Major Armstrong. “There was this- er- lab I wandered into while I was looking for Ed. Franklin Harkins, I think. I found these. I forgot I had them, but they might be from those guys since the labels match their numbers,” she explained hurriedly, holding up the journals, then she dug through her pockets for the crumpled up sheets from Harkins’ personal notes. “And I took these too.”

“Interesting…” Armstrong murmured as he smoothed the ripped pages out on the table they’d taken over.

Ed reached over the gap between their beds, seemingly interested. “Let me see one of those.”

“Me too,” Al said.

Becca nodded, handing Ed the 48a journal and Al the 66 one, keeping 48b to look through herself. She skimmed most of the entries, a lot of them only being a line or two long, but if it looked important, she read it thoroughly in case there was anything that could be useful.

 

14-03-84

Subjects 48a and b consented to the procedure. Training plans will be in development after a physical exam is performed (see checklist below).

 

  • Physical exam
  • Initial testing in
  • Martial arts
  • Weapons ability
  • Mental stability
  • Physical stability
  • Fixing
  • Finals tests

 

 

10-04-84

Subject 48b has excelled in his training. Hoping to speed up process while still aiming for the first success.

 

06-05-84

All training completed in record time. Collaboration between subjects has increased willingness to participate. Note for subjects later.

 

Procedure begins tomorrow. 48b will be taken second.

 

07-05-84

Procedure was a success. 48b displayed agitation and showed hesitation (i.e. crying, described wanting to “back out”) after overhearing the procedure being performed on 48a but was easily sedated. Sedation was sufficient in calming the subject for procedure to be performed, not to eliminate any pain the subject may have felt. However, no negative consequences have been noted. Neither 48a nor b seem to remember the actual details during the procedure. Perhaps some sort of pain-induced trauma response. Consider upping sedation doses in other subjects.

 

“48 was the first successful transmutation they performed?” Ed said, horrified.

“And this one says 66 was only the second…” Al whispered.

After flipping back through one more time, Becca handed the book off to Major Armstrong, who laid it on the table. Against her will, her heart clenched a little bit for the younger brother, who’d tried to go back in the minutes before the experiment and seemingly was ignored. He was a murderer, of course, but the pain he must have felt was unimaginable, and no one deserved to suffer it.

She let her eyes wander over to Al, someone who, beyond every other person in Amestris, especially didn’t deserve to suffer his fate, who had touched a hand to his chestplate, right over where his heart would be. “They felt pain but didn’t remember it… I can’t remember it hurting either… I don’t really remember any of it.” 

Becca and Ed shared a glance, the burning of their bodies unravelling just to return swamping over them. “That’s probably for the best, Al,” Becca said gently. The pain he had felt, his body and soul being pulled apart, must have been much, much worse. It already wasn’t fair he’d felt it in the first place, but remembering it as the last thing he felt before losing the ability to feel would be even more unfair. “It sucks that these notes are so vague. I don’t think there’s anything helpful.”

“Right,” Ed said. He placed his journal on top of hers. Al nodded slowly, then followed suit.

“What happened after you got attacked?” Hughes pushed.

“Well, we worked together to finish off the first brother. I used a move I remembered Scar using on Al and took down the second one,” Ed continued the story, making a few crude drawings as he spoke, “and the older one said, since we’d beaten them both, he’d tell us everything he knew about the people making the Stones.” He ripped out a page with the transmutation circle he could remember from the floor of the lab and set it aside so he could scribble some more. “Then these two people came in. There was an ouroboros tattooed somewhere on each of their bodies-”

Hughes held up a hand to stop him, shaking his head. “Hang on. A what tattooed on them?”

“An ouroboros,” Al said, taking the pad of paper and pen in order to sketch a simplistic version of the symbol out himself. “It’s a dragon eating its own tail. In alchemy, it’s used to symbolize renewal and rebirth, infinity, the natural life cycle- anything in life that’s cyclical pretty much falls under that umbrella. You find it in a lot of transmutation circles as kind of a binding agent.”

“And the fact that it’s even involved indicates that alchemy is even more significant than we thought,” Becca added, “given that the laboratories themselves created a pentagram over the city and how multiple highly intelligent alchemists are probably the ones creating Stones.”

Ed snapped his fingers. “Becca, do you remember how that woman killed 48?”

“The weird spears? How could I forget? They almost went through my head.”

“Right,” Ed said, rubbing the back of his neck with a half-smile, half-wince. “Sorry. But she was controlling those somehow, like they were a part of her. And whenever they shortened, I swear I saw transmutation energy, but it was red, like-”

“Like the priest in Liore,” Al provided.

“And even going back a few years, that’s what happened when Isaac MacDougal used his Stone.”

“You think this woman had a Philosopher’s Stone that allowed her to manipulate her body?” Armstrong clarified.

“I don’t see why not.” Ed shrugged. “It didn’t look easy for him, but Father Cornello changed his form with a fake one, so it stands to reason that a real one could make the transition smoother.”
“And the other individual?”

“They didn’t do anything too remarkable,” Ed said, gazing  off into space as he tried to remember. “They did most of the beating.”

Becca popped in, “The woman called them Envy.”  Al offered her the paper and she started rough doodles of the people they’d seen. “This was them,” she said, holding them up. “She seemed to be in charge, even though she didn’t actually do much to us personally.” A small frown drifted over her face as she placed the picture down. “They called us sacrifices.”

“And I don’t remember anything after Envy kicked me and said they were allowing us to live,” Ed finished. “Do you, Becca?”

“I thought I heard the other one deciding to blow the place up, but I can’t be sure,” Becca said. “She was quiet and I wasn’t doing too hot either.”

“Souls guarding a military laboratory, sacrifices, an unidentified person named Envy with an ouroboros tattoo…” Armstrong said thoughtfully, rubbing his chin. “It’s probably beneficial we at least know what the transmutation circle for a Philosopher’s Stone looks like so we can be on the lookout, but there are many mysteries concerning this entire operation that still remain. And whether or not that woman gave the order, the Fifth Lab was destroyed. I doubt there’s any information we can glean from there.”

Hughes picked up the list of convicts supposedly put to death, eyes tracing down the scores of names. “Not much we can do about the lab, but I’ll run these by people around my office and see if that turns up anything. I’ll keep an eye out for any mention of ouroboros in reports as well.”

“Let me take this one,” Armstrong said, taking the one with all of Dr. Marcoh’s former colleagues, assistants, or partners from Ishval and beyond, “and I’ll find what I can on these researchers’ current activities and locations. They could be some of the ones currently in charge of the Stone.”

Ed smiled tiredly. “Thank you both for all the help.”

Al nodded.  “Yeah, you’ve already done so much-” he began, only to be cut off by the door creaking open behind him. As one would expect in a room full of military personnel, all their heads immediately snapped to the person entering the room, and as one might not expect, all their jaws dropped.

“Fuhrer Bradley!” Armstrong and Hughes greeted at once, saluting in unison. 

Al went stiff, not saluting since he didn’t have to but arms practically stuck to his side, Ed had frozen on his bed, eyes wide, and Becca blinked a few times to make sure this wasn’t some fever dream before slowly raising her right arm in acknowledgement as well. “Sir.”

The Fuhrer waved them off. “At ease, men.” He smiled down at Becca and amended, “And lady.” Becca shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. Even smiling, his visible eye was stern, and to be singled out by him like she had been on the steps of Central Command months ago was not an experience she’d like to repeat. He lowered his hand and closed the door behind him. “No need to be so formal. I’m only visiting.”

“Of course, sir,” Hughes said, though he still bowed respectfully. “But if you don’t mind me asking, what might the occasion be for this… visit?”

“What’s the occasion?” Bradley repeated, coming to address Ed and Becca directly, in front of Ed’s bed and right next to their table of research. “Why, our two youngest, of course. I’ve brought a get-well-soon present!” Smiling like an excited child, he held up a basket, its contents obscured by a frilly handkerchief. “Do you two like melons?”

“Sure, I guess, thanks,” Ed said in awe, accepting the offered gift. Becca elbowed him. “Gah! I mean, thank you, sir!” He passed the basket to Becca, who set it on the table before she thought otherwise, inadvertently bringing the Fuhrer’s attention straight to what they’d been up to.

“What’s all this?” he said, bending over to examine their various diagrams and lists. They all went still until he asked, “Is this why you’ve been looking into the senior staff, Major Armstrong?”

Armstrong recoiled, his massive form somehow shrinking in on itself a miniscule amount. “Well- yes, sir, but how did you-”

“You ought to know by now that nothing gets past me.” Bradley’s eye slid from the papers he was examining back to fully focus on Becca and Ed, occasionally flickering to Al behind them. He was entirely too cold for Becca’s comfort as he spoke to them. “As for you three… you need to tell me everything you’ve learned about the Philosopher’s Stone.” If it was possible, his tone got even chillier. “And I hope for your sakes that it’s not too much.”

Becca’s muscles tensed and she resisted the urge to look at one of the brothers. That would give them away. However, she could see them both in her periphery, and if one of them moved, the other two would be with them in a heartbeat. A few seconds of rigid silence passed and then, for some reason, Bradley started to laugh, beginning with a small chortle that quickly bloomed into a full bodied, boisterous guffaw.

“I’m only kidding!” he said cheerfully. “No need to be so uptight, kids. Lighten up.”

Becca bit her tongue to keep from retaliating with Right, sorry. I don’t know why I would possibly be uptight around you. Could it be that you’re the leader of my country or that you hold my life entirely in your hands?

The Fuhrer, ignorant of her sarcastic internal struggle, only continued, “I know there’s been some disturbing activities going on under my nose. I’m afraid I haven’t been able to investigate, but I’m glad someone has, because I believe something needs to be done.” He tapped on the list in Armstrong’s hands, which had gone lax enough that he could clearly see the names written on them. “I’ll save you the time of researching. It’s anyone who had knowledge about the Philosopher’s Stone? All these people have gone missing within the last few months.” Bradley flipped through the rest of their notes, scanning them quicker than should be possible. “The enemy, whoever they are, is always one step ahead of us. I’ve had my informants looking into any potential leads for months, but they haven’t found any indicators of motive, numbers, or the level of military they’ve infiltrated and corrupted.”

“Great. This is even more dangerous than we thought,” Hughes remarked cynically.

“Indeed,” Bradley said. “Major Armstrong. Lieutenant Colonel Hughes. Elric brothers. Rebecca Harper. I haven’t been able to trust my own staff for months since I found out about the traitors within our midst. But you have proven yourselves to be trustworthy soldiers, and this order is for your own safety- forget any of this happened. Do not speak of it in any manner to anyone. It is imperative that no one else know about this as we don’t know who may be an ally and who may be an enemy. Suspicion is the only weapon we have against these agitators at the moment. Do not trust anyone and behave as if everyone in the military is a spy for the enemy.” He levelled his stern gaze on all of them in turn, waiting for them to nod. “Good. In return for my trust, I expect you to be ready to join me in the effort of crushing the enemy when I deem the time right.”

Hughes and Armstrong saluted again. “Sir!”

Behind Bradley’s back, Becca, Ed, and Al exchanged worried glances. She didn’t know about the boys (though she could make a good guess), but for Becca, their leader’s inflammatory speech had only served to make her want to dig deeper. 

In their hurry to check in with each other, neither Becca nor Ed had saluted as was expected of them. As luck would have it, before he turned around, two younger sounding men passed the door, fretting about the Fuhrer’s whereabouts.

“Damn those bodyguards,” Bradley muttered to himself, flashing a quick salute to the major and the lieutenant colonel. Without a care in the world, he popped open the window on the other side of the bed and lifted himself out of it. “I snuck away to get a moment of privacy, you understand,” he provided, like that explained climbing out the window instead of using the door like every other visitor they’d had. He waved happily over his shoulder and hopped down to the ground below. The five of them raced to the window, only to see Bradley bidding them adieu. “Well, gotta go! Rest up, alchemists!”

Gazes stuck to his retreating back, it wasn’t until Ed whispered, “What the hell just happened?” that they were able to break out of the odd mindset the Fuhrer put them in.

Well, mostly break out of it, given that Becca still jumped a foot in the air when Winry returned from the train station and called, “Hey, Ed-” The blonde stopped in the doorway, making a face. “What is with everyone today? The guys outside were totally out of it too. Did something happen?”

“No, nothing happened,” Ed said, dropping back down onto his bed. “Just a tornado passing through.”

Winry rolled her eyes. “You guys are so weird. Anyway.” She held up a white envelope. “I got those train tickets you wanted. You said the earlier, the better, so I went ahead and got them for this evening.”

That made Ed perk up immediately. “Great, thanks!”

“You’re already on the move again? I didn’t think you were cleared yet,” Armstrong said.

Ed rolled his eyes. “I’m not. But I’m sick of this place, and at this rate I’ll probably rip my stitches from sheer boredom and give that nurse-”

“Sophie,” Becca informed.

“- Sophie a chance to follow through on her word to keep me here for even longer.” He kicked at the ground petulantly. “I’m also already sick of hospital food and the smell of antiseptic.”

Hughes crossed to Winry, laying a hand on her shoulder as he leaned over her to see the tickets. She pulled one out of the envelope to oblige him. “Dublith, huh? What’s there?”

“Well, Al and I have been talking about it for a while.” Ed reached over, patting Al on the arm. “We’re pretty tired of getting our asses kicked, so we decided we’re going to go see Teacher.” He looked over to Becca, saying, “I asked Winry to grab you a ticket, but I wasn’t sure you’d want to come.”

Automatically, Becca’s mind went to where it had gone before they’d gone to Resembool- he was giving her an out because he didn’t want her to come. However, that time, he’d given her an out because he’d thought she wouldn’t want to come. And since he knew her experience with teachers, maybe this was a similar situation. Maybe he was just trying to make her comfortable.

“Nah,” she found herself saying. “If your teacher’ll have me, I’d love to meet her..”

“Are you sure? You could stay here and recover some more if you wanted. We’d be back in a couple days, a week at most.”

“Or you could stay with us,” Hughes offered. “You and Elicia got along so well last time you visited, I’m sure she’d love to see you again.”

Becca sat down on Ed’s bed, practically able to see the second option of staying behind dangling temptingly in front of her. Inevitably, though, her heart won out and she pushed him playfully to scoot over. “You’re not the only ones who could stand to learn something new.”

Ed’s mouth twitched, suppressing something, but it was only a few seconds before he beamed at her. She could have imagined it, but she swore she saw some of the tension that had risen when Fuhrer Bradley threatened them lessen when she agreed to come.

“Great. With that settled-” He looked up at Al, Becca following his line of sight, only to see his suit of armor trembling. His smile turned a little strained.  “W-what’s wrong, Al?”

Al whimpered. “What do you mean what’s wrong? Teacher’s gonna kill us when she finds out what we did!”

“Listen, don’t you wimp out on me, Al, I’m scared too!” Ed said tightly.

Becca sighed, then traded looks with Winry. “They always do this,” she said, defeated.

“Exactly what kind of teacher did they have?”

“Could not tell you. This is usually as far as they get whenever they bring her up.”

While the boys continued to moan in the background, Armstron’s deep timbre joined the conversation between Becca and Winry. “Quite a long journey to Dublith, isn’t it?”

“How far will you guys be going?” Winry asked. 

Becca caught sight of a map underneath all their research materials and cleared off the table to reference it. “Let’s check it out.” She scanned the map, tracing railroad after railroad until she was able to point to a small spot only just north of South City. “It’s down there. Looks like it’ll be… maybe a day, day and a half on the train?”

Winry hummed reflectively, her eyes following the line as well, until she gasped loudly enough to get Ed and Al’s attention.

“What’s wrong?!”

“Are you okay?”

“Look at that! Before Dublith, do you see that?”

Ed leaned closer to examine where Winry was pointing. “Rush… Valley?” he read out. “What’s that?”

“Are you kidding?” Winry said incredulously. “It’s only the holy land of automail! It’s any engineer’s dream to study there!” She bounced on the balls of her feet, eyes sparkling. “I have to go, you have to take me, please, please, please!”

Once it was clear, however, that Winry’s outburst was from excitement rather than fear, Ed had backed off, crossed his arms, and set his jaw. “No way. If you wanna go that bad, you can go by yourself.”

Winry narrowed her eyes. “Oh, yeah? Who’s going to pay my train fare?”

“Are you seriously trying to mooch off me right now?”

Becca set a hand on his arm, smiling reassuringly at Winry. “Come on, Ed. An extra stop won’t hurt.”

“Yeah, Brother, we’re going through there anyway,” Al joined in.

Ed gave an exaggerated eye roll and a long sigh, but agreed, making sure to note that it was only because Al had expressed that he was okay with it, not that that did anything to curb Winry’s enthusiasm. “I’ve gotta go call Granny and let her know I’m changing my plans!” she chirped, bounding out of the room. Becca giggled at seeing Winry and Ed acting like actual teenagers for once.

“Well, I’ve got to get back to work,” Hughes said once she’d left, bending down to re-sort the papers Bradley had pushed out of place. “We really are pretty busy, even with Sheska’s help. Do you want me to keep these until you get back so you don’t risk losing them?”

“No, no, we can take them. We’ll encode everything while we’re on the train,” Ed dismissed.

At that, Becca started picking the notes up and handing them to Ed, who folded them and packed them into the pages of his travelogue, going over a mental checklist as she did so. When she ran into a discrepancy, she frowned, going through the list again, then ruffling through the remaining things on the table and leaning over the bed to check underneath it.

“What are you looking for, Becca?” Al questioned

“The notebooks, from the lab. They’re gone!”

Armstrong grunted. “Where could they have gone? Were they knocked under the bed?”

“No, they’re just… gone.” Becca’s fingers danced over the table, tapping away, annoyed. “Bradley must have taken them.”

“Peculiar,” the major muttered to himself.

Hughes shrugged, running a hand through his hair. “Well, at least you said they probably wouldn’t be helpful anyway.”

Becca but her lip. “I- I guess. I just don’t know why he would have taken them.”

Before they could discuss the matter any further though, a knock rang through the room, Ross called from the hallway, “More visitors!”, and Hughes’ head snapped back towards the papers scattered across the table.

“Put those away, quickly,” Hughes whispered. Becca followed the hurried instructions at once, sweeping the remaining research onto the bed and moving a pillow to innocently lay on top of them, and just in the nick of time since Ross opened the door and a little girl squealed as she ran to embrace Hughes by the legs.

“Daddy! We found sissy outside, look!”

“Elicia, my princess!” the lieutenant colonel exclaimed, any trace of hesitance gone in an instant, and bent to swing her up onto his hip. “What are you doing here?”

“Mommy and I wanted to come visit you!”

Indeed, Gracia, holding a flat box, and Winry had come in after Elicia, though they’d been stopped at the door so Armstrong could exchange pleasantries with Gracia and make sure Pinako had approved of Winry joining them for the time being before heading outside to speak with Ross and Brosh. Once they’d made it over to them, Hughes pressed a kiss to his wife’s cheek over Elicia’s head. “Were you really coming to visit me?” he said adoringly.

“We went to the office first, but they said you were here, so we figured we could take a little walk and visit a few other friends.” She tapped Elicia’s shoulder and asked, “Right, Elicia? Do you remember them too?”

Elicia stuck a finger in her mouth, surveying Ed, Al, and Becca. Her eyes widened. “Becca!” she exclaimed, then pointed across the room in recognition, first at Al, then at Ed. “Big brother! And little brother!”

Becca could have sworn she heard metal crunch as Ed clenched his fists and ground his teeth while the other three teenagers bit back giggles. “Elicia,” he ground out. “Don’t you remember what we said last time? I’m the big brother and Alphonse is my little brother.”
“Mmm… I don’t think so,” the little girl decided.

Steam was practically spilling out of Ed’s ears by how frustrated he was with her, so before he could do anything rash, Becca put a hand on his leg and reminded, “She’s still little, she’ll learn.” She rubbed a small circle into his shin with her thumb. “At this point, we’re lucky she still recognizes us at all.”

That seemed to be enough, since Ed’s shoulders notably dropped and he let out a long breath. No one else, Becca realized, hadn’t noticed him, with Al having crossed the room to allow Elicia to play with his fingers, bending them and flexing them into different formations to entertain her, Hughes much too preoccupied squeeing over Elicia’s general cuteness and taking Winry along for the ride, and Gracia attempting to calm her husband down. Becca checked her watch, then the tickets, then coughed politely. Once. Twice. And then-

“Hey!” Ed said loudly. “Don’t we have a train to catch?”

“Ah, right,” Hughes said, rubbing the back of his neck with a guilty smile. He offered the arm not full of toddler to Gracia. “You go ahead and get dressed, Ed. I’ll go ahead and get your discharge papers sorted and we’ll meet you outside.”

“You need help with your stitches?” Becca, the last one left in the room, asked after she’d tugged her boots on and gone to the door.

“No, I’m okay,” he assured her, though his hand did float unconsciously down to his side, resting on the healing incision. “You should go with Hughes, make sure all my information’s right on the papers. I don’t want to get called back here on some technicality.”

She hesitated, door open, but knew she couldn’t make him accept help if he didn’t want to. “Alright. But don’t make me go get Sophie and get us stuck here forever when we’re this close.”

A sharp bark of his laughter was the last thing she heard as she let the door fall shut behind her and she couldn’t stop a fond smile which probably looked extremely stupid and heartsick from twitching up her lips. She’d rarely been so thankful for an empty hallway.

---

In the end, Gracia, Elicia, Ross, Brosh, and Armstrong ended up seeing them off. Hughes had kissed his wife and daughter goodbye at the hospital, but said he really did have to get back to the investigations office and waved them off to the train station. In the insistent swirl of luggage and tickets, Gracia pulled Winry aside and pressed the box she’d been holding into her hands and allowed Elicia to fling her arms around Winry’s legs in a tearful goodbye before there was a long whistle and she had to be pried off so Winry could join them in their chosen seats. Elicia, however, wasn’t the only one crying, since the major also had proud tears running down his face as he saluted from behind Ross and Brosh. They all waved until the platform had faded from view,  and it was only then that Ed settled down and peeked over Becca’s lap to where Winry was clutching Gracia’s box.

“What’s in the box?”

She opened the top, letting a tantalizing smell waft out and fill their little space. “Oh- it’s an apple pie, Ms. Gracia and I made it last night.” She smiled, tilting her head. “She said we should take it with us, and she’s a really good cook.”

“Believe me, I remember. When we stayed with Hughes, she made this amazing quiche...” Ed recalled hungrily. “Hand me a slice, don’t want to let it get cold!” Obligingly, Winry forked over a slice of the pie, cradled in a napkin, and Ed wasted no time digging right in, and declaring it the best pie he’d ever eaten.

“Should I add it to my list of things to eat when I have my body back?” Al asked.

“Definitely! She gave me the recipe, so I’ll be sure to make it as soon as you do, alright?” Winry said.

“Aw, yeah!”

“You should have a piece while it’s fresh out of the oven, Winry. You too, Becca,” Ed insisted, mouth full. “We could even have another piece and count it as lunch!”

“Quit showing me what it looks like chewed up and I just might,” Winry snarked back. Ed stuck his tongue out at her, covered in pie crumbs, and it didn’t take long for both their tempers to flare.

Becca gave a long suffering sigh, plopping the box on her lap, both for easy access and so it would be safer should Winry pull out her wrench. “This is why I had to take the middle seat, huh?” She sliced another two pieces, handing one off to Winry on her left and one to Ed on her right, which at least got the two of them to stop glaring at each other, then picked up one for herself. “By the way, how was last night, Winry?”

The other girl made a point to swallow and Ed rolled his eyes, but she replied, “It was so much fun. Mr. and Mrs. Hughes were really nice to me, and Elicia’s adorable. They’re all great people.”

“Gracia’s great, but Hughes is obnoxious,” Ed argued. 

“He did come to visit you two a lot, though,” Al said pointedly.

“You bet he did, every damn day.”

Giggling, Becca added, “Yeah, he even came to check in on us at the library before he had Sheska to push all his work onto.”

Ed leaned his head against the window, begrudgingly agreeing, “That was pretty nice of him… if a little irresponsible.”

The other three teenagers stared over at him, bewildered, before bursting out laughing.

“Oh, please!”

“That’s rich!”

“You are the last person I want to hear from about being irresponsible with their military work, Ed,” Becca said. “How many times have you turned in a report on time?”

Ed, who’d realized his misstep the second they’d all comprehended it, set his jaw and tried to glare them into submission. When that didn’t work, he brushed off Becca’s question with an indignant, “That’s different!”

His distressed response only sent Al, Winry, and Becca into another round of laughter, which eventually calmed into little giggles, then into silence, though it felt like one of the silences that could reignite into sniggering at the slightest joke.

“We should remember to thank him for everything he’s done next time we’re in Central,” Al said quietly.

“Yeah… we really should, shouldn’t we?”

---

Conversation continued for hours as the train rushed southwards- about people the Elrics had known but hadn’t gotten the chance to check up on in Resembool, about foods and experiences Al was looking forward to having when he was able to, and Winry was able to pry some information out of Ed, Al, and Becca about what they’d been doing (vague, rather unimportant details that basically amounted to “a lot of research and exploration”), which Becca imagined was rather like pulling teeth for her.

“So why are you two all in a rush to see your teacher right now anyway?”

Though Becca’s mood had been flying high, actually being in the company of other teenagers and acting like it for once could do that to a girl, it quickly dropped when she remembered why they were actually going down south. She shook her head as unnoticeably as she could to clear the anxiety bubbling up,  but apparently not unnoticeably enough, since Ed slung his flesh arm around her shoulders, a casual enough gesture if it weren’t for the small, rhythmic circles he made with his thumb on her upper arm.

“Well, first of all, I’m pretty tired of getting my ass kicked in fights-”

“Wait a second, this person is a combat teacher?” Winry cut him off indignantly. “I thought you just studied alchemy with her!”

“Teacher’s philosophy, and a lot of others as well, is that alchemy is easier when you’re physically healthy and strong,” Al explained. “And, uh... Teacher’s personality just happens to lend itself well to combat.”

“Seems to me that a simpler solution would just be to quit fighting all the time,” Winry mumbled under her breath.

Ed scoffed. “Yeah, as nice as that would be, we don’t exactly have that option. Plus, it’s not just our fighting that needs work. We’re also using the opportunity to strengthen our cores, right, Al?”
“Exactly.”

“What about you, Becca? Not that I’m not glad you came with us, but if I were you, I would have been at least a little tempted by a few nights at the Hughes’ house instead of dragging yourself around a bunch of automail engineers and then watching those two spar ‘for their core’,” Winry said sarcastically, nudging Becca, who forced herself to smile in return.

“Oh, you know,” she said as lightly as she could manage. “Curiosity. I never got a chance to explore the inner discipline that comes with real training. It should be an interesting perspective to study. Maybe their teacher will have a way to help me become stronger on the inside too.”

“We need all the strength we can get,” Ed concluded. “Hopefully, Teacher will still be willing to help us out.”

Winry hesitated, then pushed, “And what’s the second reason?”

“To ask her what she knows about the Philosopher’s Stone,” he said solemnly, resting his chin on a closed fist on his armrest.

Before Winry could ask, Al made sure to clarify, “Dr. Marcoh, the doctor we met who sent us to Central in the first place, told us to find the truth within the truth. We haven’t found it yet, but, if we’re lucky, our teacher might know something about it and be able to point us in the right direction.”

Ed gritted his teeth, letting a short breath out his nose. “She’ll help if we actually get a chance to ask her. That’ll be the hard part, especially with us both looking how we do now…” His shoulders sagged dramatically and he slumped, head dropping sideways onto Becca’s and letting out a distressed wail. “We’re going to be in so much trouble!”

On the other bench, Al wasn’t much better, fretting, “She’s definitely going to kill us when she finds out what happened!”

“Maybe you two should get a new teacher,” Winry suggested dubiously.

Becca didn’t say anything. Her shoulders had tensed instinctively, and her heart had started to beat a little faster than she was totally comfortable with. If she was honest, Winry had made a good point, a better one than she knew, actually, and, as much as she didn’t want to admit it, the cold claws of regret had clenched around her heart. In hindsight, Lieutenant Colonel Hughes’ offer looked more and more appealing with every mile she was taken further away from it.

Notes:

i hope you and your loved ones are all staying healthy and safe, and i'll see y'all in the next chapter! -c

Chapter 18: meraki

Notes:

happy thursday, my dears!

i gotta say, the opening scene of this chapter was one of my favorites i've written so far, and, as you might have noticed, i went ahead and changed all the chapter titles since the beginning lol! that is a result my newest interest in funky words, so if you're interested, feel free to click back through those bad boys and learn something new!

(seriously though, i did create a pinterest board that i'm going to link in the end note that has all the names in fun little aesthetic pictures where they're all compiled.) (and the title for the next update will be sprinkled in somewhere if you want a hint!)

in other news, i got a review a few days ago that absolutely warmed my heart and i keep going back to it and just rereading it and rereading it and it kills me every time! i am always so, so, so honored and humbled and every single interaction someone has with any of my work means the absolute world to me. as sappy as it sounds, i am so incredibly grateful to have been blessed with each and every one of you and i just wanted to make sure you all know that!

meraki (verb)- to do something with soul, creativity, or love; to put something of yourself in your work

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Citizens in Rush Valley, Becca discovered, were nothing if not flashy.  Everyone seemed to be obsessed with having the most extravagant, strongest, and showy automail they could, and the habit wasn’t limited to just their assorted missing anatomy. They didn’t even make it out of the train station’s shadow before Winry saw a particular model in a window and dragged the rest over to see, herding them next to a jeweler's where a young woman was squealing over a lavish ring.

And then there was Winry, reacting exactly the same way over a metal arm. Which, Becca supposed as she studied the two opposite girls, could very well be more of a status symbol in this city here than the ring was.

“Did that one seriously catch your eye?” Ed muttered mischievously in her ear, jutting his chin out towards the jewelry store where a man in a tuxedo had just agreed to purchase the accessory. His voice was low enough that the two shoppers didn’t hear, but they both turned to look when a sharp snicker escaped Becca’s mouth before she could bite it back.

She shoved Ed away, face going pink. “Can’t say I’m one for the cabochon look,” she said casually. Not a lie. Perhaps it was the scientist in her, but natural stones had always drawn Becca’s eye faster than any shaped or manufactured diamond ever would. The woman shot her a dirty look and she pulled the man inside the store and disappeared. When she was sure she couldn’t be heard, she added, “Or a stone that could probably pay off my whole debt but is so gaudy that it still manages to look fake.” Also not a lie.

“Good to see that there’s some semblance of normalcy even with all the gearheads. You remember that time we saw Ambassador Moore’s wife at Eastern HQ?” Ed teased.

“Yes! Decked out in those awful amethyst earrings? Remember what she said when I held the door for her?” She put on a haughty voice, mimicking, “‘Oh, thank you, dear. Say, have you noticed my earrings? A personal gift from the Tsarina of Drachma. Remember, even though our countries may not get along, that doesn’t mean the ladies cannot enjoy tea together.’”

Ed positively cackled at that particular memory, throwing his head back and grinning widely. He did totally miss Winry bounding further into the town though, so Becca linked her arm through his and hurried to follow, making him stumble. “Bex!”

“Sorry, but we have to keep pace with Winry, otherwise she’ll leave us behind.” Becca glanced around at the twisted streets and dark alleys all trailing off of the main road. “And I don’t think we want to get lost around here either.”

---

Thankfully, the town did open up into a central square after a few minutes walking. On the other hand, with the open air came a whole lot more sensations all over the spectrum of “enjoyable”. There was, of course, the expected smells of oil and sweat paired with engineers shouting as they competed for the attention of each potential customer, along with the more pleasant scents from a few street vendors selling food and the less pleasant high pitched squeaking of metal-on-metal emanating from both inside the shops and out in the streets, as there seemed to be multiple loose circles that had sprung up in the centers of which were automail-bearers arm wrestling. Becca and Al only just managed to pull Ed and Winry away from one of the rings with firm reminders that if the burly champion did win, Winry would have to rebuild another arm and Ed would have to endure the subsequent beating for it.

Still, as they walked away, Ed grumbled under his breath, “I could have won with alchemy.”

Becca rolled her eyes. “Even more of a reason not to do it. He probably wouldn’t take well to cheating.” Trying to change the subject, she peered around out of the corner of her eye. “Is this town really made up entirely of automail mechanics? How sustainable is that?”

Winry fell back, eager to explain a little more about Rush Valley once she heard Becca asking. “Actually, even though it’s known most widely as the holy land of automail, Rush Valley is the hub of just about any new technology. Phones, cars, trains, they were all created and are being improved here! The land around here isn’t very good for farming like it is down in Resembool and the big business types from the cities can’t stand the weather, so a lot of their food and other supplies get brought in from other cities and the town is easily able to pay for it because of how much everyone else uses the products they’ve created.”

Becca nodded along with her, following the reasoning easily. She supposed it made sense, and turned to ask Ed what he thought about Rush Valley so far, only to see that he’d shedded his top two layers, his red coat and black jacket, as soon as they got out from under the various awnings and tents and into the middle of the plaza, exposing his muscular arms, and Becca was suddenly very unsure about whether her face was heating up due to the aforementioned warm weather or… other factors.

Oblivious, Ed complained, “Yeah, speaking of not being able to stand the weather, remind me why we couldn’t just drop you at the train station and avoid all this heat?”

Al glanced around warily. “Brother, are you sure you want to take those off-”

“Hey, kid!” someone called, jogging up from behind them. “What’s that model you’re wearing? I’ve never seen one like that before!”

Before Ed could react, the man had grabbed his arm, extending each finger to examine it carefully, and gestured another man over. A crowd quickly gathered, all murmuring about the unmistakable unfamiliarity of Ed’s automail.

“Quit it, get off of me!” Ed demanded, trying to tug his arm back. Becca shifted uncomfortably backwards as the group swarmed Ed like wolves converging on their prey, tugging at his clothes, determined to get a closer look even as he attempted to get away. Al grabbed her by the collar of her jacket, setting her beside Winry and then wading back into the crowd to pull them off Ed, who gave an aggravated,  “Back off, don’t undo that! Haven’t you jackasses heard of personal space?” right before his tank top and pants were thrown haphazardly into the air. She was able to catch the shirt when another mechanic tossed it backwards, out of his way, but she had lost track of the pants in the scuffle.

Cheeks bright with embarrassment, Becca hid her face in the retrieved shirt, though Winry only chuckled. “They’re just trying to get a closer look, Ed, be nice!” she called.

“I’ll give ‘em a closer look!” he snapped back as Al managed to get to him and lifted him out of the crowd’s reach.

“Alright, he doesn’t know anything about his own arm, “ Al interjected diplomatically. “If you have questions, his engineer is right there and I’m sure she’d be happy to talk to you about them.”

“Hey! Alphonse!”

That was all it took for the mob to clump around Winry and Becca scurried out of the way, bumping into a girl with short, dark hair on her way. “Oh!” the girl exclaimed. “Are you with that boy?”

“I- yeah, but I don’t have automail-”

The girl laughed. “No, no, I just have his pants!” She handed the article over. “Here you go! Tell him to be more careful with his automail around here. People get handsy.”

Becca smiled gratefully. “Thank you. And believe me, I will.” She shoved through the remaining few rows of engineers shouting at Winry and made it back to fresh air with Ed. She tossed the pants to Ed with a short, “Here’s your stuff. Please get dressed. Where’d Al go?” while still keeping hold of the shirt so it didn’t get dusty.

Grumpily, he thumbed over his shoulder to where Al had been surrounded by a few of the braver townspeople once he’d drawn attention to himself, then started pulling his clothes back on. “I hate Rush Valley,” he groused. “I hate the weather. I hate the desert. And I hate automail engineers!”

“Sorry. We’ll only be here for a couple more hours,” Becca said, intently screwing her gaze on the sandy ground as she kept her arm extended for when he could take his shirt. She heard his belt buckle fastening, then a quick rustle of fabric, like Ed was patting his pockets to check that everything was there, then a thick silence that could really mean one thing. Becca sighed heavily. “What’s missing?”

“It’s gone…”

“Ed?”

“...My watch.”

Becca’s head whipped around, not even registering the fact that he still wasn’t wearing a shirt. “You don’t mean-”

“The thing that proves I’m a State Alchemist?” he said weakly. “Yeah. Yeah, I do mean that.”

She could feel the color draining from her face. Sure, they travelled enough that losing things wasn’t uncommon, but their watches were probably the most important thing either of them owned. Not only were they almost irreplaceable, they were also a key part of ensuring their safety while travelling. As Mustang had drilled into their heads, a state alchemist without a watch was basically identity-less, which, while a mild inconvenience for the general public, could be disastrous if they needed help or money, or were put in danger and needed leverage, especially because their trio was so young and more likely to be disbelieved if they didn’t have proof of their rank. “Of course, this one simple stop couldn’t go off without a hitch. That would be too easy, wouldn’t it?”

Al noticed their distress first and picked his way back over to them, worriedly asking what had happened and then freaking out when Ed told him. His panic drew Winry back, who, while not totally understanding the importance, got that the issue was pressing as well and immediately began searching around on the ground in case it fell out of Ed’s pocket by chance.

Two men nearby chuckled, crossing their arms. “Lose something? Probably Paninya’s work.”

“Paninya?” Ed said desperately. “Who’s Paninya?”

“She’s a pickpocket,” the other man supplied. “Mostly targets tourists for things she can sell to thrifters.”

“Do you know how much shit from Mustang I’ll have to put up with if my watch ends up in a second-hand store?” Ed said under his breath where only Al, Winry, and Becca could hear, then raised his voice. “Where can I find her? She took something important and I need to get it back!”

The men exchanged glances, hand creeping for their own pockets. “Well, of course, we can tell you,” one started.

“But in return…”

“We need one more look at that automail!”

Both men held up wrenches and Becca groaned, but tried to be polite. “Unfortunately, we don’t have time to waste, so if you could just-”

A clap echoed from beside her and Ed’s arm flared out into a huge, menacing blade, matched only by the menacing scowl that had overtaken his face. The men went white, pointing towards one of the large mountains near the edge of town. “She stays up there! There’s a shop up there run by a man named Dominic!”

Becca shielded her eyes against the sun, taking in the towering pillars of stone. She sighed. “Alright. Who can fill my water up around here?”

---

Obviously, it wouldn’t be appropriate to trek into the desert mountain range without an ominous soundtrack of shrieking birds following them the entire damn way. Even though Becca had insisted both Ed and Winry grab a water bottle from town before they left, all of them had finished in just a few miles. 

“Are you sure those guys didn’t just lie to us?” Winry panted. She and Becca had each stripped off their jackets as well, leaving Winry in a white tank top and Becca in her tight sleeved blouse, though she’d pushed the sleeves up to her forearms due to the heat. “‘Cause you might have pissed those engineers off enough that they wanted to trick us.”

“Shut up, ‘s not like you can complain,” Ed shot back. “You’re the one who made us go to that stupid town in the first place. This is all your fault.”

“My fault? You’re the one who lost his freaking pants and got his watch stolen!”

“Oh, really, you think I wanted to-”

Becca, already feeling a headache coming on (one of the normal, heat-related variety), stepped in between the two of them, trying to provide some space for them to breathe. “Guys, placing blame is not helping anybody.”

“But-” they protested in unison. 

She held up her hands, placing on one each of their chests to keep them firmly apart. “If you want to argue about it, at least wait until we get back to civilization.”

The two teens groaned, crossing their arms like petulant children and stalking further down the path they’d been directed onto, but at least not about to strangle one another for the time being. Becca shared an exasperated look with Al, who merely shrugged in response, then froze.

“Um, Brother? Winry?”

“What, Al?” they snapped.

He pointed upwards where a feminine figure stood atop a craggy cliff, silhouetted by the sun. “Could that be her?”

Becca squinted, the shadow seeming oddly familiar, but it was only when the girl moved that she could make out her features and actually recognize her. “I saw that girl in- in town,” she said incredulously. “She helped me pick up your clothes!”

“Who the hell cares? She’s got my watch, I can see it in her pocket!” Ed growled, clapping his hands together. A pillar sprung out of the ground when he touched it and launched him up towards the girl, Paninya, screaming, “Stay right there, you damn thief! Just ‘cause you’re a girl doesn’t mean I’m not gonna beat the crap out of you!”

As anyone would expect, Paninya turned and ran, which only served to infuriate Ed more and he chased after her, leaving the other three behind without a second thought.

Becca groaned, dropping her head in her hands.

“How dramatic…” Al lamented.

“Do you think he realizes some things would get done a lot quicker if he stayed calm?” Winry asked.

---

Hustling after Ed was made significantly more difficult having to undo all his transmutations along the way, but God only knew what legal ramifications there might be for destroying the natural raw materials and ores around Rush Valley, and they’d already had enough trouble in the automail-driven town for Becca’s taste. Since it would be impractical for Al and Winry to attempt to keep up without any type of automatic alchemy, they’d opted to stay on the path with the reasoning that, if Paninya always ended up at Dominic’s, they’d hit either her or the automail shop eventually. The fact that staying on the path had been miserable enough and actually climbing and trekking through the mountains was already proving to be worse probably didn’t hurt.

She didn’t actually end up catching up to him until he had Paninya cornered against a manmade wall, standing up from a crouch where he’d been pressing his hands against the ground. Becca came up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder, making him pause and let out a long breath. “I’d like my watch back,” he said harshly.

Though Ed could be intimidating when he wanted to, Paninya didn’t seemed overly concerned that she was closed in between two government alchemists, since a grin broke out across her face and she crowed, “Wow! That was awesome, how’d you do that?”

“I’m an alchemist! You want another demonstration?” Ed shouted. He lacked his usual gusto- actually, he was uncharacteristically serious. Becca glanced at him out of the corner of her eye, mentally weighing this fight against other low-stakes conflicts they’d been involved in and unable to determine why this one was so important. Surely Ed didn’t care so much about catching some flack from Mustang that he was willing to go through all this trouble as opposed to just filling out some paperwork. 

Either way, he clapped his hands together and the sound echoed through the canyon whilst his hands shot to a cliff face on his side. Stone hands erupted from around them. Despite the fact that the only steady ground was the small spot directly under her and Ed, the pickpocket leaped from column to column with inhuman ease, hopping around and flipping away too quickly to unbalance or let herself get grabbed, all the while continuing to praise Ed’s alchemy and ask question after question until she landed out of their reach. Ed, incensed even further, snapped, “Quit moving around, you bitch!”

“You already getting tired?” Paninya taunted from her perch, skipping out of view with a cheery wave.

“You wish!” 

He gave chase without a second thought. Becca groaned a little to herself, bending down so she could set the environment back to normal, then trudged after him, muttering, “Nice days really are too much to ask for,” as she went. She rounded the ridge, then skidded to a stop, barely able to halt before running to where Ed had stopped a few paces ahead. “Wha-”

He held one finger up to his lips, the other pointing down the cliff, a… suspicious mixture of pride and mirth gleaming in his eyes at the scene below. Once she’d taken it in, Becca couldn’t stop an amused smile of her own.

Al and Winry had intercepted Paninya. That wasn’t the surprising part, it was the whole reason they’d split up in the first place, but Al had trapped the pickpocket in a large birdcage in the center of a transmutation circle, complete with a prim eyelet on top. Winry clapped her hands together and exclaimed, “She fell for it!”

“Good one, Al!” Ed added, hopping down to join them once Al had stepped back from the circle, Becca on his tail. “How’d you know where to put that?”

“It’s not exactly hard to know where you’re going to be, Brother,” Al said. They could all practically see the  eye roll implied in his tone, but Ed ignored the slight in favor of approaching Paninya and tapping the bars of the cage.

“Alright, that’s it. You’re done,” he said lowly. “You’ve lost. Now give me back my watch.”

Paninya only smirked, remarking, “Did I lose?” And then there was a rip of fabric and the distinctive sound of metal sliding against metal and Becca couldn’t help but remember 48’s second round of attacks. At least Ed had jumped back this time- shocked, but unharmed. Paninya stepped out of the cage, pant leg ripped and a smile almost as sharp as the blade protruding from her knee on her face, almost like how Ed could transmute his arm without an actual reaction. “You’re really surprised? You guys definitely haven’t spent enough time in town!”

Ed growled. Becca stepped forward, grabbing his shoulder to hold him back. Paninya laughed mockingly. “And that’s not all!” She brought her other knee up, tugging the fabric to expose another metal leg for maybe a millisecond-

“Get down!” Becca shouted. As Ed and Al both obeyed, a small projectile sailed just over their heads and exploded behind them. She cast a look over her shoulder, then back to Paninya, eye wide.

“My other leg has a 1.5 inch cannon!” she said cheerfully, turning over her shoulder and skipping back towards the mountains. 

“You-!”

“Now, it’s really been fun, but I got places to be, short stuff, so how about we call it a-”

Quick as a whip, though, Paninya halted, so suddenly Becca thought Ed must have alchemized a cuff around her ankle or something. Instead, Winry had reached out as the pickpocket passed her, tugging her back sharply via a hand encircling her wrist. She grinned, blue eyes lighting up proudly. “Gotcha! That wasn’t so hard after all.”

“Yes!”  Ed pumped his fist, hopping to his feet. He offered Becca a hand and shouted, “Nice, Winry! Now don’t let her go!”

“Like hell I’m letting go!” Winry replied, grinning, before her eyes softened and she moved from gripping Paninya’s wrist to holding her hand reverently. “Not until you give me a closer look at your automail!”

Becca tried (and failed) to stop a short giggle, and Ed’s face fell into yet another scowl. “Damn gearhead!”

A starry eyed Winry either ignored him or was too caught up in fawning over Paninya to listen. For her credit, even Paninya seemed stunned into submission by the sudden turn of events.

Becca squeezed Ed’s hand to calm him down. “Patience. I don’t think we’re prying Winry off of her anytime soon. That means she’s not getting away from us either,” she pointed out.

His jaw clenched until he forced himself to exhale and relaxed. “Fine.”

She unconsciously reached up, brushing a hair that had fallen out of place during the chase back behind his ear, then felt heat rising in her cheeks when he turned to look at her at the prompting. “Sorry,” she said instinctively, fanning herself with her hand. “It’s hot out here- didn’t want you to- anyway-” Stop talking, please, you sound like an idiot. She screwed her gaze down to the dirt path and searched desperately for another topic and she landed on, “-I get that all the paperwork and stuff to get a new watch would be a pain in the ass… but are you sure it’s worth all this trouble?”

That was the wrong thing to ask. Ed’s hand dropped from hers and he quite literally closed himself off to her, all crossed arms and curled shoulders. “I just… I don’t want anyone else having my watch,” he said defensively.

“Alright.” Becca knew her cue to back off. “I trust you. Whatever you need, we’ll do our best.”

He gave her a grateful, if tight, smile. “Thanks, Bex.” He unclenched slightly, stretching his arms above his head with a quiet groan before beckoning Al over to join them. “You think Winry’s done interrogating her yet?”

All three gave quick looks over at the other girls. Winry was still occupied, and the situation had actually managed to escalate slightly since she’d sat Paninya down on a rock nearby and was currently knelt near her feet to give her legs a closer examination, firing question after question off as she did.

“I-” a pink-cheeked Paninya was stuttering. “I don’t know all the details, but the man who made them could probably-”

“Could you take me to him?” Winry asked eagerly.

“Um… sure?”

“Hey, hey, hey, not yet,” Ed interjected, grabbing Winry by the shoulder. “We actually have somewhere to be-”

Winry shook his hand off with ease, frowning. “Fine by me!”

“I’m sure you can! Either way, she still has my watch, so just give that back and we’ll be on our way!”

“Ed,” Becca said softly. “Not trying to step on your toes, but maybe we shouldn’t just leave Winry in the middle of nowhere with a stranger.” Her eyes moved to Paninya and she offered, “How about this- you take us to your engineer, introduce Winry to him, and give Ed his watch back, and we forget any of this ever happened.”

She hummed, tapping a finger against her cheek as she considered. “Fair enough.”

“Ed?”

Clenching his fist at his side, Ed exhaled loudly through his nose. “Fair.” He turned abruptly and started stomping up the mountain again. When no one followed him straightaway, he demanded, “Well? Are you going to take us further or not?”

Paninya smiled mischievously (seriously, was that her default?) and charged up in front of him. “Yeah, sure, I will! If you can keep up, that is!” she snarked.

“I’ll show you who can’t keep up-!”

Winry and Al each let out a long sigh and Becca shrugged at both of them, rubbing her temples tiredly. “I think letting them have prolonged contact was a mistake on our part.”

“Agreed.”

---

“Mr. Dominic lives out here so that way he has first access to the best ores. He’s the best of the best, not only because of that, but he’s also just brilliant!” Paninya explained as they climbed higher and higher up. She hesitated, then added, “And because he doesn’t particularly like company.”

Ed, even more grouchy and holding his jacket over his head for shade, grumbled, “In this town? I can’t imagine why.”

Winry smacked his shoulder. Ed raised a hand to respond in kind, but before he could, they finally reached their destination. Paninya twirled around, carelessly throwing her arms up in the air. “Here we are! Mr. Dominic’s workshop!” She bounded to the door and banged it open, then shouted, “Good afternoon! I’ve brought guests!”

The door slammed shut behind her.

“Oh!” they heard Paninya exclaim through the wood. She pushed the door back open, smiling guiltily- specifically at Winry- and apologetically said, “Oops, sorry. Come on in!”

A bespectacled man was bent over in front of a large pile of scrap metal inside the open interior of the stone house, rubbing his eyes as they crossed the threshold. “Who’s this, Paninya? Customers?” He picked up a pair of glasses from a worktable, slipped them on, and then his jaw dropped upon actually taking them- or maybe specifically Al- in. One of the tamer reactions he could have, Becca supposed.

“Not exactly,” Paninya admitted, shrugging. “This is Winry. She’s an engineer and she wanted to meet Mr. Dominic.” She waved at the rest of them with little fanfare. “Those guys aren’t really important.”

Ed, who’d barely been holding his temper during each interaction with the thief, finally reached the end of his rope. He stomped one foot, shouting, “Alright, that’s it-!”

“Where’s Satera?” Paninya asked, ignoring Ed and wandering further into the house.

“Don’t walk away from me!”

“Hi.” Becca offered her hand to the man. “I’m Becca. The angry one is Ed, and that’s Al. Paninya already introduced Winry. Nice to meet you, Mr. Dominic. You have a lovely home.”

The man obligingly shook her hand, but he rubbed the back of his neck guiltily. “Oh, no, I’m not Dominic- he’s my father. I’m Ridel LeCoulte.”

“Good afternoon, Paninya! Busy day?” a woman’s voice came from another room.

Ridel smiled lovingly, in a familiar, “Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes”-like manner. “And that’s my wife, Satera.” He stood up straighter, wiping a thin sheen of sweat off of his forehead. “Now, was it Winry? Did you really come all the way out here just to meet my old man?”

“Oh, yes!” Winry squeaked, snapping to attention from where she’d been as subtle as she could while still checking out the various automail and gadgets laying around the room. “Paninya showed us her automail, and it’s amazing! I could only dream of creating something like that!” Her eyes sparkled with excitement and she grabbed Ed by the shoulder, pushing his sleeve up to show his arm off despite his sputtered protests. “This one is my latest creation, but I’d be thrilled- no, honored- if an expert other than my granny would give me some pointers!”

Ridel pushed his glasses up his nose, examining the craftsmanship, turning Ed’s arm this way and that. Ed himself rolled his eyes, fixing Becca with a weary stare.

“I can’t say I’m an expert, but you can’t get by around here without knowing at least a little about automail, and this looks impressive,” Ridel noted. “Dad’s in the back, though. Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

Winry squealed, letting go of Ed’s arm and bouncing after Ridel as he beckoned her through a door. Ed, on the other hand, rubbed his shoulder port, glancing out the window uneasily.

Becca placed her hand over his in what she hoped might be a calming gesture. “What’s wrong?”

“Besides the fact that I keep getting yanked around when I just want my watch back?” Ed said stonily. “My ports are aching.”

“It didn’t seem like it was going to rain when we were outside earlier,” Al assured. “Maybe it’s just from all the running you did? Or it could just still be sore from the laboratory.”

“Ed!” Winry sang. “Take off your coat and come in here, Mr. Dominic wants to see your automail!”

He groaned, but handed his coat and jacket off to Becca. “Not one word,” he said, pointing threateningly between her and Al.

“Never mind that,” a gruff man objected. “It’s too tight in here. I’ll set up in the main room.” A tan, gray haired old man appeared in the doorway, holding a bright red toolbox. He snapped his fingers in the direction of a pair of wooden boxes near the fireplace. “Sit,” he ordered sharply. Ed dropped onto one and Dominic onto the other, holding out a hand with a curt, “Arm.”

He examined Ed’s arm with a trained eye and a magnifying glass seemingly produced from thin air. Winry hovered around him as Dominic lifted the arm gingerly and questioned, “Does this feel heavy to you?”

Winry faltered. “Um… maybe?” She copied him, moving it around as lightly as she could. “Yes, I guess it does.”

“Hm,” Dominic grunted. “On your next model, you’ll need to be more careful not to strain the user.” A cursory glance up and down Ed’s body prompted, “Its weight could be a factor in his evidently stunted growth.”

Becca winced, placing a firm hand on Ed’s shoulder before he could react to the jab.

Of course, that didn’t stop him from snapping, “Hey, shut up-!” whilst the rest of the statement processed. “Wait… you’re saying if my automail was lighter, I’d be taller?”

“It wouldn’t be impossible.”

“Brother, don’t get your hopes up, it could just be genetics-”

Ignoring Al, Ed turned on Winry, eyes as wide as saucers. “Winry, talk to this nice man and figure out how to make me taller, please!”

“That settles it,” Winry muttered to herself, clapping her hands together decisively. “Mr. Dominic! I know that I could learn so much from you in the art of automail engineering, so I beg you, please, make me your apprentice!”

“Not a chance.”

“Why not?” the four of them protested as one.

“I don’t do apprentices,” Dominic said, scratching at his beard.

Winry blanched, her body tightening. “Are you sure you don’t want a second to consider?”

“Yeah, yeah, are you sure you can’t make an exception to show her how to make some special automail?” Ed said, fluttering his eyelashes sweetly. Becca rolled her eyes as he specified, “The kind to make me taller…?”

“Get outta my face, you little flea.”

As Ed collapsed to the floor, sputtering dramatically (apparently especially affected by that particular insult), Becca’s mouth twisted unpleasantly. As a general rule, didn’t craftspeople love to pass on their secrets and techniques? Every one she’d ever known, from alchemists to bakers to engineers, had some irrepressible need to teach- or rather, to pass on whatever shiny, new thing they’d managed to create and make sure everyone else knew who’d created it. Here was a ready and willing wide-eyed student, and he was just going to pass? How could he?

Al, on the other hand, gently pried his brother off the floor and slung him over his shoulder. “Thank you for your time, sir. We appreciate it,” he excused, “But if you can’t help us, we really should get going so we can find a hotel in time for-”

He was cut off by a large boom of thunder, shaking the house around them and quaking Becca to her very bones. Ed snapped to attention, then wilted like an overwrought flower. “I told you guys earlier. Rain.”

“How?” Becca said incredulously. “It was totally clear earlier. Not one cloud!”

“Oh, that’s just a desert storm,” the same woman from earlier, Satera LeCoulte, chimed in. She’d crossed the room to the windows after putting a tray of tea things down on a side table, shutting and latching them with ease. “They can roll in out of nowhere, right, dear?”

“Exactly,” Ridel said fondly. He pulled back the curtain just as thick sheets of rain started pouring down outside and flinched. “Ooh, bad timing.” His eyes floated between the four teens sprawled across his living room- Al standing near the door, Ed on the floor, Becca leaned up against the wall, and Winry still crouched near Dominic. “Sorry, guys,” he said apologetically. “It’s probably best for you to stick around here, at least until this all clears up a bit.”

“We won’t be intruding?” Al fretted.

“Not at all!” Satera assured. “The more the merrier!”

She and Ridel smiled lovingly at each other, then turned to the rest of them and Becca couldn’t keep a tiny smile of her own off her face, even as she swore she heard Dominic mumbling quite the opposite under his breath.

Notes:

i hope you and your loved ones are all staying healthy and safe, and i'll see you in the next update! -c

https://pin.it/4raFrBR

Chapter 19: petrichor

Notes:

happy late thursday night, my dears!

i had to change up the order for a few events in this chapter- well, tbh, not really had to but more i just wanted to, but this is my escape from the world and i get to pick the order of events, you know? other than that, i liked this chapter a lot when i was writing it and i thought it had some sweet moments between a lot of the cast, since i love when an author develops relationships between characters outside of the main ship, so hopefully y'all don't mind that much either.

and to any of my fellow seniors out there, you have my absolute condolences because holy hell, the combination of senioritis, third quarter slump, the looming presence of colleges, and quarantine brain is quite literally decimating me. to the rest of y'all, send me good vibes. no, i do not know what i'm doing. i'm not planning on it rn, but i might (maybe [hopefully not]) have to take a brief hiatus just because of... existence. either way, i promise i'll keep you guys updated and any hiatus that does happen won't last any longer than it has to.

petrichor (noun)- a pleasant smell that frequently accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Alright,” Satera said, clasping her hands together after they’d all gotten settled. Tea had been served, a fire had been stoked, and benches pulled over for her, Becca, Ed, and Al while Winry and Paninya trailed after Dominic and Ridel to the workroom. Satera pushed herself to her feet with a little groan. “We’ll see if the radio’s working to get an estimate of when you all can safely head back to town right after I get all this cleaned up-”

Becca cut her off. “No, I’ll get it. Let me.”

“Nonsense, Becca, you’re my guest-”

“It’s no trouble, not when you’ve already opened your home to us. It’s not equivalent exchange, but it will have to do,” she said lightly. Of course, the repayment was only part of the reason Becca pressed- the other was that Satera was pregnant. Actually, very pregnant. And she didn’t need to be a doctor to know that people who were that pregnant should be resting as much as possible. 

Satera chuckled, easing herself back down into a rocking chair. “Fine, if you insist.”

“I do.”

“Thanks, Becca,” Ed said as he handed off his cup. 

His eyes flicked over to Al, who seemed preoccupied with sneaking curious looks at Satera, or more specifically at her swollen belly, at least until Ed elbowed him to hand off his cup (taken to avoid suspicion, but still conspicuously full) and he yelped out, “Oh! Yeah, thanks, Becca. Do you need help?”

Becca grinned over at his child-like fascination, not wanting to tear him away. “I’m fine, thanks though. I’ll be back in a bit.”

“Just set them down on the counter, dear,” Satera requested.

“I will.”

“Don’t you dare wash them, Rebecca, I’m serious!”

“Of course not,” Becca said, nudging the door to the hallway open with her hip. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

And she meant it. Initially. Then she heard Winry and Paninya’s voices through the door, and, after gently knocking and sticking her head in, asked, “Am I interrupting?”

“Nah, come on in,” Paninya said, sitting back in her chair. “I was just telling Winry the story of how I got my automail.” She turned to Winry and teased, “I don’t know why she’s so interested, but honestly, I was just a pathetic little kid before Mr. Dominic found me. I was in an accident that killed my parents when I had just learned to walk, so I was totally by myself. Dirt poor, and pretty much thinking that life couldn’t possibly be worth living.” Paninya laughed self-deprecatingly. “I had the eyes of a dead man…”

Winry leaned forward, enamoured. She was clearly hanging onto every detail, rapt attention uninterrupted as Becca, in a need to keep her hands busy as she listened, filled the small sink with soap and water and dropped the tea things in. However, when Paninya mentioned that Dominic hadn’t allowed her to repay him with stolen wages, Winry scoffed.

“What?” Paninya said indignantly.

“Of course he doesn’t want you to pay him back by picking pockets,” Winry said, rolling her eyes. “That’s, like, the opposite of why he gave you your legs back!”

Becca put down her rag and the teacup she was scrubbing dry. “How do you mean?”

“It’s like how Granny and I created Ed’s limbs so he could keep moving forward,” Winry explained. “From what you said, it doesn’t sound like Mr. Dominic gave you new legs because he wanted money from you. It sounds like he made them because he wanted you to do more with your life.” 

Paninya, with her confident veneer uncrackable up until that point, actually faltered. “I never thought of it that way before.”

Winry leveled her firm blue eyes on her and she gulped as the blonde grabbed onto her knee. “You got those legs because of pure human kindness, a selfless act of goodwill. Mr. Dominic doesn’t want your money, he probably wants you to live up to what he’s already done for you! You should repay him by living life to the fullest, not by stealing from tourists your whole life!”

“Believe me, I understand repaying debts probably better than anyone,” Becca added, leaning up against the counter, “but doing it honestly and in the way Mr. Dominic would most appreciate it is probably the best way to show him that you don’t take his gift for granted. That giving you a second chance was the right choice.”

Paninya hummed, kicking one leg up onto the rickety table  and staring thoughtfully at it for a few seconds before slowly answering, “You guys… might be right.” She swung her leg down suddenly, eyes bright. “I think I’ll give the honest work thing a try. I’ll start right now!”

Another clap of thunder boomed and spooked all three of them. Paninya smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck. “I’ll start as soon as this rain quits,” she revised, lowering herself back down into her chair. She rubbed her thighs, presumably where metal met flesh, and winced. “It doesn’t get humid very often around here, but when it rains like this, it always makes my ports all achy.”

“Ed’s do that too,” Winry said. “He always takes hot water bottles.”

“I think Satera and Ridel keep some of those in the hall closet, if he wants a few.”

Becca pushed herself fully back up on her feet. “I’ll go ask him. Winry, you could get some water on the stove and gather the bottles. I’ll heat it up with alchemy so we can make enough for both of you pretty quickly. Do you think Satera would want one?”

“Couldn’t hurt to ask,” Winry agreed with a shrug. “Hey, Paninya, do you know where the pots are?”

Becca made her way back to the living room, already preparing her speech of excuses for what had taken so long and extending a peace offering. She pushed the door open quietly, starting off, “I know you told me not to, but Paninya is actually a very intriguing storyteller, and I just got carried away- oh.”

For kneeling on the floor in front of Satera were both Elrics, each with a palm laid on her stomach. She felt her heart skip an unwilling beat at the sweet domesticity.

“Isn’t it cool?” Ed said, looking up at her and beaming. “There’s a tiny human inside her!”

“A little miracle, more like,” Al corrected in awe. “We were both in mom’s tummy like this, a long time ago.”

She smiled fondly. “That is how pregnancy and birth work.”

“I know, but think about how amazing that is! How someone can just create a whole other person!”

“Would you like to feel the baby kicking too, Becca?” Satera asked.

The offer caught Becca off guard, and, before she could stop herself, she’d started to stutter, “Would that be- I mean-” She flushed what she was sure was a bright, bright pink. “Are you sure it’s okay?”

“Of course,” Satera said soothingly, chuckling a bit. “They’ve been very active today.”

“A- alright.”

Ed scooted over, making room for her on the floor next to him. Bending down, Becca set a hand on Satera’s abdomen, touching just lightly enough to register when a little foot hit the skin. “Oh,” she murmured adoringly, getting down fully onto her knees. “Wow…”

Satera let her hand drop on top of Becca’s and sighed out a long breath, only to be interrupted by a sharp wince and gasp of pain. Ed sat up ramrod straight in an instant, checking in, “Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” she assured him. “The baby sometimes kicks in odd places, that’s all.”

“Whoa,” Al whispered.

Becca pulled her hand back, shaking herself out of her reverie. She checked her watch and winced. “Hopefully this storm doesn’t last too much longer,” she said. “We already bought train tickets and if we miss the one going to Dublith tomorrow, we won’t have another chance for a few days.”

“And that reminds me,” Ed said, standing up and brushing his gloved hands off on his pants. He smiled sinisterly. “I need to get my watch back.”

---

“What the hell is wrong with you, Winry?!”

Satera, Becca, and Al all jolted, Al’s story about a baby back home in Resembool suddenly cut off. Becca shot Satera what she hoped was a soothing smile. “I’m sure that’s nothing.”

“I’m sorry, I was just-”

The loud, hollow bang of wood on wood sounded through the walls and she grimaced. “I’ll go check on them.” She hauled herself up and gave Satera one more reassuring smile. “Go ahead with the baby story, Al, I’m sure this’ll only take a second.”

She barely made it three steps down the hallway before she bumped headlong into a wound up Edward Elric. “Hey,” she cut in, grabbing him on the shoulder to force him to a stop. “Hey, hey, hey. What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Winry-” Ed muttered through gritted teeth, “-pried open my watch.”

“Take a breath, calm down a little,” Becca instructed, casting her gaze around the wide hallway until she noticed a pair of chairs nearby. “Here. Sit.” He begrudgingly dropped into one of the seats, his head falling into his hands. Becca lowered herself down next to him. She reached out hesitantly, then drew back before she actually touched him. This, whatever this was, clearly wasn’t something he should deal with alone. Knowing Ed, though, if she spooked him, he’d bolt. That had to be avoided, if not for his comfort then at least for his safety given the weather and location. “Now what’s this about your watch? You said that Winry looked at it, but-”

“I- I sealed it with alchemy, but she still pried it open,” Ed said quietly. “It was private.”

What was private?”

Wordlessly (horribly uncharacteristic, and something that was happening much too often now that Becca thought about it), he thrust his watch under her nose. For a brief moment, she realized that this was the first time she’d ever actually seen the watch open, at least until she registered the scratches opposite the face. 

“What…?” She took it from him, tilting her head to make sense of it. “‘October third, year 11’?”

A pained noise ghosted past the curtain of golden hair obscuring Ed’s face. “When Al and I burned down our house.”

Becca involuntarily snapped her head towards him, speechless but to breathe out, “Oh, Ed…”

“I needed a- a reminder. It gave what we did a tangible form, something that I could carry with me so I never forgot what my pride could lead to.” He chuckled, though the sound was undeniably hollow, as he ran a hand through his bangs and tugged them back to expose his hollow eyes. His fist clenched, gripping tight, too tight, right at the root, and Becca could practically hear his teeth gnashing.

She had no choice.

Becca dropped the watch like it burned her, the silver clattering delicately on the floor in contrast to the roughness with which she grasped both of Ed’s hands, unwinding them from his hair and smoothing down the disturbed tufts before she could stop herself. Slowly, her eyes moved up to meet his, taking in the muted surprise behind them as she squeezed his hands in hers. For a second, Becca thought that might have been enough, because he stayed quiet. Introspective. Then he’d torn his eyes away from hers and pulled both his hands back, though they at least fell into his lap instead of ripping at his hair again. “Al doesn’t even know.”

“Ed, I-”

“It’s stupid-”

“That’s not what I-”

“It’s just for me-”

“Edward,” she interjected firmly. 

“Becca, I know it’s- it’s strange, you don’t have to-”

Slowly, as if she might spook him, she took his chin between her thumb and forefinger and tilted his head up so he had to look at her, then just as hesitantly drew away. “I understand. I do, I promise. Can I show you?”

He nodded his assent haltingly, but nodded all the same, so Becca shrugged off her jacket, draping the rough tan fabric over her lap. Ed furrowed his brow. “I don’t understand.”

Becca swallowed a lump that had somehow formed in her throat as traced the topmost strand of flowers, the ones that stretched across one shoulder to the other. “Look,” she pointed out. “All of them have meaning, but these ones are special. Forget-me-nots, for Louisa.”

“Bex…”

“So I get it,” she said softly. “I get the need to remember… but you can’t take all the blame all the time. It’s not healthy.”

Distress bubbled up again, his jaw clenching. “But it is my fault. I deserve all the blame.”

“No, you don’t, Ed,” Becca asserted. “You can take your part of the blame without taking on all this guilt.” Admittedly a bit desperately, she pleaded, “You were just a kid- a kid who missed his mom. That thing- Truth, God, whatever-” She stopped herself, taking a deep breath. She couldn’t think about that right now, not in such a heightened emotional state, not unless she wanted to say something she might regret. “Look- listen. You’ve never been one to blame someone else for your mistakes, and that is something I admire greatly about you. But it’s not fair to you to- to constantly carry all this weight on your shoulders! You do that too long and it’ll just start crushing you beneath its weight.” She avoided his eyes as she whispered, “I can’t watch you do that yourself, Ed. And there are a lot of other people who would say the same thing.”

She intently kept looking forward, holding her breath. Ed didn’t seem to be in the mood to yell at her, but she didn’t know if she could bear any more of this side of Ed. Something about recent events- the false Stone in Liore, Lab 5, the fight with Al- had clearly shaken him, even if the issue had been resolved. Or maybe it had just cracked his carefully kept up shield that had hidden this internal torment, and now the dam kept giving way, drop by drop-

And then he… chuckled.

“I shouldn’t carry it on my shoulders?” he asked, shoving her slightly. “Bold words coming from she who has her reminder quite literally etched above her shoulders.”

Becca blinked. He’d laughed. He was laughing! She looked down at the jacket in her lap, then to her right up at Ed, a small smile cracking over her face. She let out a tiny giggle. “Okay, that’s on me. Bad choice of words. Either way, my point still stands. There are two people who’d agree with me in this house right now.” Leaning over a bit to bump their shoulders together, she suggested,  “You should go talk to them sometime.”

Ed shot her a smirk. “I’ll think about it.”

A quietude sank over them, broken only by the insistent pattering of the rain against the roof, and Becca quickly found herself unwillingly going pink, so she let out a breath and stood up, shrugged her jacket back on, and offered Ed her hand to pull him up. Of course, because so few things could ever go Becca’s way, that had to backfire and they wound up nearly nose to nose, their hands still intertwined, arms braced against each other. She swallowed and willed her blush to recede. “Ed-”

All the way down the hall, there was a chorus of gasps. Winry shouted,  “Ed! Becca! Come quickly!”

Becca pulled away at once, though Ed didn’t back off and his metal hand actually tightened around her forearm. He looked at her, alarmed, then towards the door and called, “What’s wrong?”

Loud footsteps hurried towards them and Winry, breathing heavily, hair askew, burst in. “It’s S-Satera! The baby!”

---

Before Winry helped to settle Satera down into her bed as best she could, Becca laid the water bottle she’d reheated with a quick transmutation out so that she could rest it on her back. 

Outside, the storm had only gotten worse, but she could pick out the slam of a door over the claps of thunder moments before Ridel hurried into the bedroom and crouched by his wife’s side. “Dad’s gone to get the doctor,” he said, forcing a soothing tone (though it came out rather desperately) and kissing her temple. “You can hold on a little longer, can’t you?”

“It’ll come when it comes,” Satera growled. “I don’t get much of a choice.”

“Stay calm, he’s going as fast as he can-” Ridel was cut off by Satera whimpering through clenched teeth. He winced, rubbing circles into her arm, and questioned, “What’s wrong?”

Becca leaned closer, wiping sweat off of her brow, and as did everyone else as Satera mumbled something under her breath. It sounded horribly like exactly what all of them did not want to hear at this moment in time, so Ridel prompted, “One more time, sweetheart?”

Satera shifted uncomfortably and snapped, “My water just broke!”

“Isn’t that bad?” Ed whispered to Becca. “That sounds bad.”

“It means this baby is coming,” she whispered back, eyes widening, “now. Whether we like it or not.”

He froze, then whipped around to Satera. “A-are you sure? It- it can’t wait?”

“No, it can’t wait, you moron!” Winry scolded, though her eyes were quickly sliding from person to person before she visibly steeled herself, setting her shoulders back with a deep breath. “We’re just going to have to work through it ourselves.”

“What?!”

Winry waved her hands frantically to calm them all down and pointed out, “Well, if  we’re lucky, all we’ll have to do is keep her calm for a few hours until the doctor gets here for the actual delivery-”

“Lucky for you all maybe!” Satera groaned.

“We need everyone’s help, but we will handle it together,” Winry said reassuringly, heading for the door, and then shouted orders as she hustled down the hall, “Ridel, stay with your wife! Ed and Al, hot water and a bowl of ice chips, ASAP! Paninya, I assume you know where the towels are, and Becca, try and rustle up some rubbing alcohol and disinfect this area as much as you can!”

“Is this safe?” Paninya asked anxiously. “Has she ever delivered a baby before?”

“Uh, no, not exactly,” Ed admitted, rubbing the back of his neck and pulling a face. “I mean, you can’t exactly grow up in farm country without seeing at least one animal birth. But Winry’s had medical textbooks instead of picture books since she could read because of her parents.”

“Her whole family’s made up of doctors, they have been as far back as anyone can remember,” Al interjected. “It’s in her blood.”

“Blood is not the same thing as a medical degree!”

“Degree or not, we’re going to have to trust her and her memory,” Becca said. “And we need the stuff she asked for if we want this to be at all successful.” Winry hurried back through the door, outfitted in an apron, and their impromptu huddle broke up to gather the supplies. Winry, on the other hand, began muttering a mental checklist to herself, an undeniable panic blooming in her eyes as Becca scrubbed down everything immediately surrounding the bed.

“Hey, Winry!” Al chirped, poking his head back into the room.

Ed followed suit, flashing a thumbs up at her. “You can do it!”

“I can do this,” she repeated, then took a deep breath and prompted, “Becca, Paninya, I’m going to need your help. Let’s do this.”

---

“I think I’m gonna die!” Satera howled, an unwilling tear dripping down her cheek. “I can’t do this anymore!”

“You’re doing great, sweetheart,” Ridel whispered.

He, Winry, Paninya, and Becca had spent the last few hours trying to keep Satera calm while Winry occasionally checked in on the process of the birth and they all desperately hoped for the doctor to arrive. Becca kept the water hot and the ice chips cold, Paninya kept time of Satera’s contractions in a notebook, and Ridel squeezed her hand, keeping her grounded and murmuring reassuring words, at least until Winry sat up, wide-eyed.

“We’re out of time.”

“W-what do you mean?” Ridel said.

She bit her lip, exchanging hesitant looks with Becca and Paninya. “The baby is ready to come out. We’re going to have to go through with the delivery.”

Ridel and Paninya opened their mouths to protest, but Becca quickly cut in, reassuring, “Whatever you say, Winry, we’ll follow your lead.” She tried for an encouraging smile. “You’ve got this.”

---

If Becca was honest, the birth itself was a blur. The energy expended from all the transmutations she'd done was catching up to her and fatigue hit hard. She totally zoned out, following instruction after instruction. She knew Winry was coaching Satera through the pushes, but once the blood started flowing enough to warrant her joining Winry to help clean up, that was enough for Becca, thank you very much, and she checked out until the sharp cry of an infant broke through the pounding rain.

Something in her released and she breathed freely for the first time in what felt like hours, stumbling backwards and, inevitably, into a wall, which she promptly slid down and onto the floor. For God's sake, she thought dazedly to herself, it had only been a few hours but Becca couldn't resist the temptation of curling up, resting her head on her knees, and almost falling asleep right then and there. Vaguely, she saw Winny collapse to her knees, exhausted, and Paninya stagger to the door, but her eyes were actually drooping shut as she slipped into a weary daze. She could only assume Ride and Satera were just as worn out, probably more so, as well as taking in this little person they'd just brought into the world. All was quiet but for the baby's cries.

And then Ed and Al hurried over the threshold, bursting with nervous energy from being banished to the hallway. Becca jerked awake, if only barely, to quickly blink away the sleepiness.

"What happened?" Ed said, turning wildly between Winry on the ground to Becca against the wall.

Wordlessly, Winry pointed up to the new parents at the top of the bed.

Both boys froze. Slowly, realization dawned on them as they took in the sweet scene of Ridel and Satera fitted together like puzzle pieces around the baby. "It's- it's a baby!" he breathed as an amazed, open-mouthed grin bloomed over his face. "A real life baby!"

"Whoa!" Al said, approaching in obvious awe.

Becca leaned back against the wood and she shut her eyes once more, though that couldn't last long given Ed's excitement. He bounded over, shaking her shoulder. "How can you sleep right now! That's a baby !"

"Oh, believe me, I know," Becca mumbled, smiling softly.

"That's awesome!" he crowed as he tugged her to her feet. She gave a weak groan of protest till She could drop her head onto his shoulder and close her eyes again. Thoroughly unswayed, he continued to bounce frenetically on his toes and chant, "Awesome, awesome, awesome!"

"Any other brilliant insight?" Winry asked sardonically.

“Hey, it is awesome!” Ed defended. “It’s the start of a new life! Alchemists have tried for centuries to replicate what a human body can do in 9 months! What am I supposed to call that other than awesome?”

Hovering near Winry, Al added, "Yeah, good job, Satera! And congratulations, to both of you!”

“I’m glad one of you can act mature about this whole thing,” Winry said, then, to Ed, “You can’t just compare the miracle of birth to alchemy.”

“Call it an occupational hazard,” Ed said, lowering his voice significantly, almost reverent in his tone. “But still. The baby’s awesome. People are awesome.”

“They’re pretty great,” Ridel said. “You did amazing, sweetheart. And you were great, girls.”

“Winry came through,” Becca replied bashfully. “I just did what she told me.”

The blonde smiled sweetly. “I did my best.”

“We should get out of your hair,” Al said to the little family. “Let you have a little time alone. Is there anything else you need?”

“No, thank you,” Satera said tiredly, stroking the baby’s wispy hair. She beamed up at them. “Make yourselves comfortable for the night, alright?”

“Um, guys?”

“Here, Winry, I’ve got you,” Al assured, scooping her up easily. “We’ll find Paninya and make sure she’s okay too.” He bowed slightly to the LeCoultes and offered, “Have a good night.”

“You as well,” Ridel said, gazing adoringly down at his baby. “And thank you so much for everything.”

---

As it turned out, there weren’t many places in the house where five teenagers could easily congregate, so they all ended up sprawled out in the living room. Ed and Al still seemed rather restless, Paninya was recovering from the whole ordeal, and Winry had ended up more sore than tired. For her part, Becca was pretty much at the point where she could not force her eyes open any longer and wound up dozing on Ed’s shoulder while he and Winry conversed in low voices.

“I really am sorry I looked in your watch.”

Ed let out a short breath. “I can’t fault you for being curious.” There was a long pause, and then Ed shifted under her and frantically demanded, “What are you doing that for? There’s nothing to cry about!”

“You two never cry,” Winry said indignantly. “So I’ll cry for both of you, alright?”

Becca felt Ed slump moodily into the couch cushions. He reached over, adjusting Becca’s head so she wasn’t nearly lolling off of him, and harrumphed. “Yeah, okay.”

“And,” Winry continued as if he hadn’t spoken, “I know what I have to do now.”

“Go home to Granny?” Ed said distractedly.

“No,” she said pointedly. “If you, Al, and Becca are going to keep travelling, getting stronger, getting hurt, and probably breaking my automail again and again, I have to stay here so I can learn and be ready to help when you need me. When Mr. Dominic gets home, I’m going to ask him to take me on as an apprentice one more time.”

If she wasn’t on the brink of unconsciousness, Becca might have thought Ed’s hand lingered maneuvering her shoulder, brushing against the forget-me-nots resting on the top corner of her back. “Good luck,” he said earnestly. Then he moved his hand, resting it on her outer arm and Becca could practically see his crooked smile as he squeezed, the comforting gesture completely unthinking on his part.

Becca was too out of it to even flush, a slight relief, so she just smiled softly before finally allowing herself to sink into sleep with the gut feeling that they would all be okay come the morning.

---

“Why the hell are you all sleeping?” Dominic shouted, slamming the door open.

They- meaning Winry, Ed, Becca, Paninya, and even Al, not asleep but definitely spaced out- visibly startled. Paninya even yelped and fell backwards off of the cushioned stool she’d claimed, right onto Winry’s lap. Becca and Ed knocked heads as they both tried to sit up too quickly from where they’d nodded off, Becca on Ed’s shoulder and his head atop hers, and they reeled away, each wincing.

“My grandchild is in the process of being born-”

“Your grandkid’s already born, old man,” Ed grunted, still clutching the side of his head. 

“-and you’re all just- huh?”

“Winry, Becca, and Paninya helped deliver the baby!” Al explained.

The doctor trailing behind Dominic paused, glancing around at the three girls. “You mean that you managed to-?”

“You mean I became a grandpa and I missed it?” Dominic demanded. 

Paninya pointed over her shoulder to the bedroom. “They’re just resting in there. They might be asleep, though.”

He shoved past them and dragged the poor doctor along with him. Too wired to go back to sleep, the other five ambled after them, crowding together in the doorway whilst the doctor checked in with Satera and Dominic (in a rather sudden switch of personality) fawned over the baby, who had been pronounced to be in perfect health before Dominc was allowed to hold him. The old man ran his finger down the baby’s face reverently until he started to cry. Maybe it was because of the exhaustion, but against Becca’s will, a small, fond smile fought its way to the surface at the pure, unadulterated love for the rest of his little family in his eyes. Someone bumped into her shoulder and she looked over to see that Ed had leaned against the doorway next to her spot on the wall, a similarly soft grin on his face.

“It is awesome,” he said adamantly.

Becca blinked until his insistent tone clicked and a tiny laugh slipped out when she made the connection to his discussion with Winry earlier. Then she wrapped an arm around him and squeezed, agreeing, “It is.”

Dominic handed the baby back to Satera when the infant started to whine and turned to them. “I suppose I ought to thank you for bringing my grandson into the world,” he said, wiping his eyes. “Especially you, blondie.”

“O-oh, it was nothing! There’s no need to thank me!” Winry rushed out, waving her hands dismissively. 

Ed elbowed her in the side with a pointed cough, only to receive a firm glare in return, although that predictably didn’t dissuade him from suggesting, “Perhaps to repay her, you could make an exception to your no-apprentice policy? So she can learn how to make me taller-?”
“Beat it, flea,” the old man grumbled. “Those are two different matters. I still don’t need an apprentice.”

Any warmth Becca had for the man vanished pretty quickly. Poor Winry, she thought, seeing her practically wilt at Dominic’s second rejection.

“-But,” the man continued, holding up a finger, “if you’re serious about staying here and learning, I’ll introduce you to a good mechanic down in town who I’m sure would take you on.”

Winry brightened up at once. “Really?”

Dominic shrugged. “I do still owe you for all the help you gave to my family.”

“Can I still come up here and watch you work, even if I’m not an apprentice?” she asked eagerly.

Reluctantly, Dominic grunted, then stated, “Don’t come up here and disturb me.” He peered over his shoulder, raising an eyebrow. “But if you come up with Paninya to visit my grandson, I can’t stop you.” He waved haphazardly at the rest of them. “The other brats are welcome as well.”

But… did that mean…?

“Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” Winry exclaimed, bounding over and squeezing Dominic, then pulled away before he could push her off.

“Alright, settle down,” Dominic groused. “The storm’s finally let up, but I don’t trust our luck that we’ll be able to make it down the mountain in the dark again, so you’ll have to wait until tomorrow to get back to town.” He bent back over the baby, tickling under his chin and cooing, “And I want to spend some time with my grandson before heading out again!”

“Yes, sir!” Winry chirped, still buzzing with excitement. With a frankly inordinate amount of strength, she effortlessly grabbed Becca and Ed by their collars in one hand and Al’s wrist in the other and dragged all three of them out of the bedroom (much to Ed’s chagrin), leaving Paninya to scamper behind. “Goodnight!”

Once they were out of hearing range, Winry lost any modicum of control and squealed, twirling joyfully around in the center of the living room. Ed wrestled himself out of her grip, tugged Becca with him, and collapsed back onto the couch with her, both their limbs splayed over the other person but neither one bothered. Luckily, Winry didn’t seem to miss them, quickly looping Paninya into her celebrations with Al in their place.

“Quiet down,” snapped Ed, dropping his head straight back onto the back of the couch. “We’ll have to get up early tomorrow and the old guy already woke us all up once.”

Winry, still grinning, flopped into an armchair, hugging a little throw pillow to her chest. “I don’t want to go to sleep,” she hummed. “I’m afraid I’ll wake up and this all would have been a dream.”

“Here,” Ed grumbled. He reached across the expanse between the armchair and the couch and, when Winry reached back, he pinched her wrist. She yelped and promptly hit him back before he could pull his hand back. “Ow!” he whined. “At least now you know you’re not dreaming! Now go to bed!”

“Stop arguing, you two,” Al chastised gently, sitting firmly between Ed and Winry. “Brother’s right, you’ll all have to wake up early tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Becca mumbled as she snuggled further into her side of the couch, “you can continue this then.”

Both teens crossed their arms, basically pouting, but leaned back. Becca saw Ed’s eyelids flutter as he himself relaxed into the cushions and she automatically stretched her legs out over his lap, one of his hands coming to rest on her shin. Outside, a chorus of frogs could be heard over the dull thumping of the rain on the roof, a natural lullaby carrying Becca into the deep abyss of sleep.

---

“Damn that old man, waking us up last night!” Ed swore, picking up the pace as they sprinted down the platform to catch the train they’d only slightly overslept to miss.

Al made the first leap with the luggage (although it was really more of a sidestep with his large gait).

“Be careful!” Winry shouted as she jogged along behind them with Paninya..

“Yeah, yeah, we will!” Ed jumped, landing safely as well.

“Have a safe trip!”

“We will!” Becca assured.

The end of the platform was getting dangerously close as Ed reached back for Becca and called, “Come on, Bex!”

Her feet left the ground right as the wooden floor dropped off, weightless for a few seconds before Ed’s hand was gripping hers tight and she was stumbling onto the train. She glanced up, exchanging a breathless smile with him, then let out a small, “Oh!” and twirled around to wave to the two girls staying in Rush Valley. “Bye, Paninya! See you soon, Win!”

“Don’t forget to call Granny and keep her updated!” Ed reminded, leaning over the caboose’s railing. “And steal some tricks from the old man, yeah? Keep making my automail better and better!”

Winry’s laugh managed to carry on the wind to them even over the rumbling of the train on the tracks and she snarkily replied, “You mean, my automail, jackass!”

“Whatever!” Ed snickered. “Just make sure it’s great!”

Winry skidded to a stop at the end of the platform, raising her hand in farewell, grinning brightly. “Leave it to me!”

“Bye!” Al shouted, then teased, “I’m sure we’ll be back soon!”

Notes:

i hope you and your loved ones are staying healthy and safe, and i'll see you all in the next update! -c

Chapter 20: minutiae

Notes:

happy WEDNESDAY, my dears!

(well, wednesday for me anyway)

i finished a little earlier which is weird because i honestly thought i'd have to take a bit of a hiatus or just do a shorter one than usual, but then i got a sudden rush of inspiration and i said "homework can wait" and so now here we are.

and boy howdy do we got some heavy-hitters today! i hope i accurately represented how our girl becca would react to izumi and sig, but don't worry, there'll be tons of bonding next chapter, so don't think i hate the curtises because i absolutely adore them. i just think it's important to show how it takes becca little while to work past her walls and warm up to them, which i promise will all be going down asap.

EDIT ON THURSDAY: fuck i forgot the word of the day my bad lol

minutiae (noun)- the small, precise, or trivial details of something

Chapter Text

Although the ride from Rush Valley to Dublith was only a few hours, their disrupted night of sleep, the stress, and the continued exhaustion that had come from Becca’s sustained alchemy usage during the birth all apparently dogpiled her and Ed as soon as they were off their feet. She wasn’t sure when she fell asleep, but she obviously did at some point, given that when Ed jolted up from a dream, she was surprised awake too.

“Hey,” Becca murmured softly between his heavy breaths. “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?”

Ed scowled. “I think… I was dreaming about him ,” he ground out, voice full of distaste- bordering on hatred- that was reserved for only one person and turning away from her to press his forehead to the window.

Why would he be dreaming about…?

“Dad?” Al asked cautiously.

Ed visibly stiffened, gritting his teeth together until Becca moved her hand to his shoulder and he let out a slow breath. “I’m fine. It was just weird.”

“At least you’re awake now,” Al said, trying to move on and keep the conversation light. “We’re getting close to Dublith.” He sank back into his seat, withdrawing into himself as he started to shake. “Close to Teacher…”

Ed shuddered as he sat back up. “Don’t wimp out on me now, Al, we’re both gonna get killed!”

“I’m not wimping out!” Al said defensively. “I just wish I could have had at least one girlfriend before I died!”

Chuckling weakly, Becca brushed the end of Ed’s braid back over his shoulder and scooted back towards the aisle. “I’m sure everything will be fine. You haven’t seen her in years, so maybe she’ll just be happy to see you.”

Ed snorted incredulously. “The only one she’ll be happy to see is maybe you.”

Becca’s stomach sank as she settled a little further down into her seat. “‘Maybe’ is very reassuring.”

“Teacher’s great,” Al said gently.

“To everyone but us,” Ed added.

Becca nodded slowly, trying to slow her racing heart. “Reassuring,” she said again.

---

Becca could admit that all the excitement in Rush Valley had pulled her fixation away from whoever awaited them in Dublith. However, now, standing in front of a butcher’s shop , for heaven’s sake, at sunset those nerves had returned full force.

“So this is it?” she asked, shifting her weight from side to side.

“If we’re lucky, Teacher won’t be home,” Ed said quietly.

Their trio went quiet. Becca exchanged a quick glance with Al over his brother’s shoulder and they shared a conspiratorial nod. “You can knock,” they said in unison, each taking a large step backwards.

Ed whirled around, wide eyed and betrayed. “Wha-?!”

“You’re the one who suggested coming in the first place!”

“Becca’s the guest, she should do it! Teacher’s least likely to kill you!”

“Oh, yeah, that’s really encouraging!”

“You’re the oldest!”

“You have a metal body, Al! You should do it!”

“This is just like in training, you always made me do the dirty work-!”

Luckily (or unluckily, depending on how Becca looked at it), any further arguing was cut off by a crisp, perky, “Welcome! Can I help you?” Becca whipped around, hands flying instinctively to her chest at the sudden intrusion, and both Elric let out a surprised scream, though the dark haired man who’d come up behind them hardly seemed to notice either reaction, given that he just continued, “Have Mr. and Mrs. Curtis not opened the shop up yet?” If it was possible, the man’s smile widened even more as he actually took them all in. “Wait a second! Edward, is that you? Long time no see!”

Ed grimaced, though he notably relaxed at the familiar, non-hostile face. “Hey, Mason,” he noted, rolling his eyes.

The man burst out laughing. “Good to know you’re still as short as ever in body and temper. Who are your friends?”

“Oh, I guess you wouldn’t recognize me,” Al said. “It’s me, Alphonse.”
“And this is our friend, Becca,” Ed introduced.

“Nice to meet you!” the man, Mason, greeted enthusiastically before turning back to Ed and Al. “You guys here to see Izumi?” When Ed nodded, he smirked and chirped, “Great! You’ve got perfect timing, she just got back in town!”

“Yeah, the timing’s just great,” Ed grumbled.

“Come around here, they should be prepping to open again,” he said with a loud laugh as he guided them into a side garden. “Boss!” he called through the open door. “We’ve got some special guests!”

Becca felt something brush her side and jolted before looking to her right. She was sure she looked like a wreck; she hadn’t had time to refresh her hair after sleeping on the couch and train, hadn’t had a free moment to wash her face, and certainly felt like a nervous mess inside. And despite that, Ed just smiled, rubbing her shoulder, and promised, “Teacher’ll be nice to you. I’m sure of it. Just stay cool.”

Ed left his hand to rest there, grip clenching as a large form crowded the open doorway and Becca forced herself to swallow. He leaned over, murmuring, “Don’t freak out.”

Even with the warning, she couldn’t deny that she had to fight the urge to lurch away when his hand reached for them, landing squarely on Ed’s head.

And ruffled his hair affectionately, tugging a few strands out of his braid and utterly ignoring Ed’s indignant squirming. “You finally came to visit,” the deep-voiced man questioned, “and you even grew a little bit, huh, Edward?”

“Heh, yeah,” Ed said lightly as he wrestled his way out from under the man’s hand. “It’s good to see you again, Sig.”

“Who’re your friends?” the man said gruffly, turning his dark eyes onto Becca, who shrank away.

“I’m his partner-” Her eyes widened, cheeks flushed, and she frantically tried to amend, “I- I mean, I’m his- his work partner. Becca. I’m Becca.”

Thank God for Alphonse, who reintroduced himself and successfully drew Sig’s attention away from a currently-wanting-to-melt-into-a-puddle-and/or-die-on-the-spot Becca.

“You grew a lot,” Sig observed, patting Al on the head in a similar manner to his brother. The armor leaned into the gesture and Becca relaxed slightly at the heartwarming action, more important to Al than Sig could know. The man leaned back, crossing his arms. “I’m guessing you aren’t just making a social call?”

Ed smiled guiltily. “Yeah, not exactly. We had a couple research questions we wanted to ask Teacher. Is she around?”

“She’s resting after our trip, but I’m sure she’d be interested to hear that you’re here,” Sig said. Becca caught the boys giving each other looks, though they weren’t as fearful as they had been for the past few hours. They actually seemed more concerned as Sig stepped down the stairs and knocked a few times on a nearby window, trailing behind him to try and peek through the drawn curtains. “Izumi,” he called through the glass. “The Elric brats are here and they bought a friend. You feel up to visitors?”

Becca, left on the stone path leading to the door, couldn’t hear the response, but she could hear Ed and Al checking in with Sig.

“Teacher’s still sick?”

“We can come back another day if she’s not well right now-”

A sharp slam interrupted Ed’s worried suggestion, and a dull thump sounded in the same moment that he was sent flying. Heart dropping, Becca scurried out of the way, crashing into Al before he steadied her on her feet. 

A woman, dark haired, sturdily built, and with a flamel matching the one that marked both Ed and Al emblazoned on her chest, stepped out, shaking out the fist that had punched Ed hard enough that he’d stumbled into the wrought iron gate separating them from the street. “So, my stupid pupil, I heard you went and became a dog of the military! Care to explain yourself?”

Oh, no.

Ed groaned, pushing himself out of a heap. “Hello, Teacher,” he said shakily.

“You couldn’t have warned me that she had a problem with the military?” Becca whispered to Al, breaths short.

However, that just drew her attention to them before Al could answer, and she narrowed her eyes. Al raised his hands in surrender, waving them back and forth and rushing out a, “I’m not-”

“Al? Is that you?” the woman said, astonished, a bright smile spreading over her face. He hesitated, then nodded. “Oh, look at how big you’ve gotten!” 

The tension racking Al’s body released slightly and he offered the woman a hand. “It’s really nice to see you again, Teacher. We’ve missed you a-”

Quick as a whip, the teacher, Izumi Curtis, Becca remembered, forewent his outstretched hand and gripped his wrist, squeezing before flipping him over her shoulder with startling ease. Al, even without a body, let out an audible “oof!” of surprise as he clattered to the ground.

“You clearly haven’t kept up with your training!” Izumi snapped, whirling back around to point at Becca. “And you-” She faltered. “Who are you?”

“Becca- Rebecca Harper, ma’am,” Becca stuttered again.

Izumi frowned. “I’ve heard that name. You work with my stupid apprentice, yes?” she said accusingly.

“I- yes, ma’am-”

The woman stepped forward and Becca flinched away, pressing her back to the wall and closing her eyes in anticipation for Izumi’s blow. However, when she just drew closer and then stopped, waiting several moments, Becca finally risked opening one eye, only to see dark eyes glaring down at her, and firmly shut it again. “So even the so-called ‘best of the best’ State alchemists are still weak.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be sick?” she heard Ed grumble.

Luckily for Becca, that made Izumi step back, incensed at the insinuation, and shouted, “You think just because I-?!”

And she threw up. Blood. 

She threw up blood. 

Becca cringed.

“Izumi,” Sig said gently, unphased, scooping her up at once and holding to his chest. “You’re overworking yourself.”

“Oh, dear,” Izumi cooed. Like a switch flipped, she ran a hand down her husband’s arm, popping her leg up and sweetly remarking, “Thank you for being so concerned about me, I’m so sorry for making you worry.”

Sig smoothed her hair down. “Don’t apologize. Let’s just go get your medicine.”

The pair giggled like teenagers in love, sharing a chaste kiss, as Becca skittered around the odd sight, hands shaking. “Is this-?”

“Normal? Yeah, pretty much,” Ed assured, rubbing his sore back.

“And is that her version of nice?”

Both boys chuckled weakly, but didn’t get a chance to answer.

“You three!”

Ed gulped. “Yes, Teacher?”

“Don’t just stand there looking like idiots,” Izumi said strictly. “If you’re here, you might as well come in.”

---

Settled around a well-worn wooden table in the Curtises dining room, tucked away from any noisy patrons on the street, Becca, Ed, and Al crowded together on one half while Izumi took the other. Sig excused himself to retrieve his wife’s medicine. At some point on the way in, Ed had noticed Becca’s trembling hands and taken one of them, which was now resting in his lap as he broached the actual reason for their visit and Becca tried to ignore her own anxiety and actually listen to the conversation.

“Well, I can’t say I’ve ever been very interested in the Philosopher’s Stone,” Izumi informed them frankly. “Why are you looking into it?”

“Just- just research,” Ed lied. “Always trying to expand our horizons.”

“Wasn’t there that alchemist in Central who said he was researching a stone?” Sig asked, placing a bottle of pills and water down on the table.

“That’s right!” Izumi said, snapping her fingers a few times. “What was his name? Wasn’t it… Hohenheim?”

The relaxed vibe in the dining room shifted at once, the air almost thickening at the man’s name. Becca bit back a yelp as Ed’s grip on her hand suddenly tightened. She glanced over, saw his jaw clench, his eyes narrow, and gaze drop to his shoes. As leniently as she could, she pried his fingers off of hers if only so she could take his hand instead, squeezing it a few times until he finally sighed and squeezed once in return. “So he’s still kicking, huh?”

“You know him?”

Ed laughed hollowly. “Yeah, technically, we know him.”

“Van Hohenheim is our father,” Al explained.

That revelation made their teacher falter, biting her lip in an obviously uncharacteristic moment of hesitation, but she still suggested, “If you wanted to see about asking him, he might still be in Central-”

Rolling his eyes, Ed sat back in his chair, dropping Becca’s hand to cross his arms over her chest.

“Could you just tell us what he said about the Philosopher’s Stone?” Al asked hopefully.

Izumi furrowed her brow as she leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. “He said something about… a lifelong dream finally coming true. Seemed pretty pleased with himself. I’d imagine it might be more helpful to hear anything directly from him-”

Ed scoffed, turning pointedly away from the table, a move Becca knew first hand was supposed to obscure any emotion that flashed across his face. “No, thanks. Like hell we’d ever ask that bastard for help with anything.”

No one seemed sure of what to say to that, whether it was most appropriate to try and convince him otherwise or just leave him to stew, or pull him out of a quickly deepening hole. Becca acted first, before he could sink too deep.

“We helped birth a baby in Rush Valley,” she blurted out awkwardly.

“Oh, yeah!” Al chirped, brightening up at once. “We got stuck up in the mountains and the woman whose house we were at started going into labor! The baby was born before the doctor even got there! It was amazing!”

“We didn’t exactly help that much,” Ed grumbled, though he at least swivelled back to the table and grinned sheepishly. “Satera did all the work and Winry, Becca, and Paninya pitched way more than we did, sitting in the hallway crying about it.”

Becca saw Izumi shift slightly in her seat, pivoting to turn her eyes on her. She was the only one who noticed and let her gaze fall down to her lap as Al defended, “Still! There was a big storm so we couldn’t go to the doctor, but everyone helped and we ended up with a baby! It was like a miracle!”

Izumi finally leaned away, kicking her legs casually over one another and crossing her arms. Becca sat up, back straight, and noted the fond smile on the teacher’s face, which only marginally reduced the uneasy mass that had taken up residence in her gut. “Yep,” she said. “That’s how you were born too. It really is a beautiful thing.”

“Why didn’t you ever have kids, Teacher?” Al asked. “I’m sure you’d be a great mom since you were such a good role model for us.”

“Yeah, Teacher, your kids would be badasses!” Ed said excitedly.

The woman and her husband both froze for a second- just a miniscule moment in time that she doubted either brother had seen, but Becca saw it. Becca couldn’t avoid seeing it- the exhaustion, the guilty expressions. She narrowed her eyes and tapped Ed’s knee, hoping he’d get the message to drop what was evidently a sensitive topic. Thankfully, Sig recovered quickly and reached over to cover Izumi’s hand with his own. That seemed to jar her as well and she stood up straight away, making Becca’s muscles tense in anticipation; for what, she wasn’t sure. So far, Izumi had both met and failed all her expectations, and that put her firmly in the category of a wild card in Becca’s mind. And wild cards, no matter who they had vouching for them, were instinctively dangerous.

“Alright, brats, enough speculating about me,” she said. “Are you planning on staying the night or not?”

“Can we?”

Despite his helmet, Izumi still reached over and firmly smacked the back of it. “As long as you quit asking stupid questions and don’t keep us up, sure.” Then, oddly, in Becca’s mind, she patted him on the head and ruffled Ed’s hair. “Your room is the same as you left it. Honey,” she said to Sig, “will you help me get the extra cot set up for Rebecca? I trust the boys can show her around while we do that.”

An insistent Oh, no, you don’t have to- was on the tip of her tongue until she remembered that they did need three beds, not their usual two, only to keep up the charade of Al having a body, and Becca knew a night alone wasn’t a viable option for her if she wanted any sleep and bit her lip against the ingrained response.

Ed gave Izumi a toothy smile, then got to his feet. “Yeah, come on, Bex. We’ll throw all our stuff in our room and then you can grab the first shower.”

---

“So,” Becca said, dressed in pajamas and sock-footed, stepping into the spare bedroom Ed and Al had claimed as their own, and wringing her hair dry with a soft towel, “your teacher is… nice.”

Ed looked up and flipped the notebook he’d been reading over shut. He scooted over on the bed, offering her a free spot with a slight chuckle. “That’s one way to put it.” When she set her things down and sank down onto his bed, he patted her knee reassuringly. “You alright?”

“As good as I can be,” she breathed, leaning back against the wall. “How’d you two even wind up with her? We’re not exactly close to Resembool and she isn’t particularly famous.” She hesitated, then added, “At least I’ve never heard of her.”

Al giggled, sitting on the floor with his back against the opposite bed. “No, Teacher’s not famous. We just got lucky, I guess. One time, there was a bad bout of weather when we were little and she happened to be passing through Resembool right when the river was about to flood. Everyone was getting ready to give up and evacuate to higher ground until she transmuted a dam that held all the water back, no problem.”

“We had already started learning from all the books he left behind,” Ed picked up the story, “but there was only so much we could do by ourselves, and seeing a transmutation that big- well, we knew we had to at least talk to her.” He laughed, tilting his head back as he remembered something. “We were so annoying, no wonder she calls us brats. But either way, we managed to ask to be her apprentices and she told us we could if we passed a test.”

“It seemed too easy, right, Brother?”

“Yeah, right,” Ed laughed.

“What was the test?” Becca asked curiously. 

“She brought us here, but not here ,” Ed explained, waving around to their surroundings. “We went straight from the train station to a lake nearby, and then to an island in the middle of it. And then she just… left.”

Becca faltered. “She- what?”

“She said we had to survive on our own for a month,” Ed said nonchalantly. “And she gave us a riddle: one is all, all is one. If we figured that out, she’d take us on as apprentices.” He beamed proudly. “And we did, didn’t we, Al?”

“But what if something had happened?” Becca asked worriedly.

For the first time, both brothers seemed to see Becca’s perturbed expression. Ed softened noticeably. “Don’t worry, Bex,” he assured. “Mason, that guy from earlier? He was in disguise and he messed with us a couple times to make us get our asses in gear, but Teacher had told him to watch over us and he would have gotten us back if we got seriously hurt or anything like that. And it was a lesson we needed to learn.”

“One is all,” Becca muttered to herself. “All is one.”

“You want us to abandon you on an island until you figure it out?” Ed teased.

She let out an unwilling, breathy laugh and retorted an absurdly witty, “Shut up.”

“Are you sure?” Al asked innocently. “Brother had to eat a bug before he got it, maybe that’ll be good enough.”

“Ew!” Becca squealed, bursting out into snickers. “No! Did you actually?”

“I had to!”

Becca gagged. “That is so gross.”

“He tried to eat me too,” Al informed.

“Ed!”

“We were starving, it was bound to happen to one of us eventually!”

“No!”

---

Becca blinked blearily at the assortment of meat, cheese, bread, and fruit left out on the table for their breakfast, along with a note instructing all three of them to eat their fill and then retrieve Izumi from preparing their shop’s wares for the day.

“Ugh,” Ed groaned, crumpling the paper and tossing it away. “She probably wants to see how well we’ve been keeping up with her training while we’ve been away.”

“Have you?” Becca questioned nervously.

He rolled his eyes as he grabbed a handful of apple slices and sat back into a chair, holding a few of the apples up for Becca to take. “ I’d like to think so.” He seemed to come to a sudden realization and hurried to assure, “Even if she goes hard, it’s just training. She’ll make sure to fix us up after and we’ll come out stronger.”

“And maybe you could tell Teacher a little bit about your alchemy,” Al added. “She doesn’t like the military, but she still likes learning about new techniques.”

Swallowing down the apple Ed had given her and picking up a piece of toast she promptly tore in two to split with him in return, Becca nodded and tried to slow her racing heart. And she definitely had the time to do it, focus her entire being on pulling herself together because Calm down, Becca, it’s just a damn workout since the thought of eating anything more than the bread and fruit she already had  made her nauseous, given that Ed apparently felt the need to demolish the entire platter one of the Curtises had made with or without her help.

At least some things never changed.

---

Al went first, sketching out a transmutation circle on the pathway to the side door with practiced ease. Becca couldn’t help but imagine the little boys she’d seen in the picture in Resembool drawing that exact circle on these exact stones years ago. He created a statue, about knee high, of a little horse. Complete with a saddle, it could have been a model for a rocking horse. Izumi nodded approvingly.

“Detailed, very nice,” she praised, patting his head. Al practically preened under her and Ed bounced anxiously- no, eagerly on the balls of his feet whilst he returned the path back to normal.

“My turn!” Ed announced. Without hesitation, he clapped his hands together and touched them to the ground. In her peripheral, Becca saw Izumi stiffen, something that would be imperceptible if Becca wasn’t already keeping an unconscious eye on her. She tensed up in response, so neither woman nor girl was really listening as Ed proudly showed off his work with a hopeful, “Pretty awesome, huh?” 

“Edward?” Izumi said coolly. “Do you have a transmutation circle drawn on your gloves?”

Becca’s blood went cold and she saw Ed finally pick up on his teacher’s energy as his eyes widened. He guiltily, dreadfully, slowly replied, “No, Teacher.”

The woman crossed her arms over her chest. “So you’ve seen it, haven’t you?”

Becca could practically see the urge to deny the accusation flash across his face and she wasn’t sure if the lie would make Izumi madder or not. All she knew was that Izumi was going to yell and her heartbeat had picked up once more and she had to get away . In the same instant that Izumi moved, Becca took a large step back towards the wall of the butcher shop, pressing herself up against it in an effort to shrink away as much as she could.

Izumi changed her trajectory minutely and grabbed both boys’ arms, squeezing tightly. “Just as I thought. You,” she said roughly, shaking Ed around, “have an automail arm. And you-” She turned her eye on Al, “-there’s no body inside that armor.”

“Teacher, you-!” Ed rasped.

“Don’t act like I’m a fool, Edward,” Izumi said sternly. “I could tell when I was tossing you around yesterday! I wanted to give you a chance to come clean and tell me yourself, but you didn’t! You saw it, that thing!”

She’s known this whole time, Becca thought sluggishly, pushing herself even further into the wall, if that was even possible. She couldn’t even imagine the scale of the punishment that was coming, that had to be coming, not only for the act itself, but for the lie of omission.

So when Izumi’s eyes turned on her and she demanded, “And you- you knew about it, didn’t you?”, she couldn’t react. She was frozen in fear. Absolutely petrified. Unwillingly, her eyes darted back and forth as she looked for an escape route. She couldn’t find one that would get her out of Izumi’s reach fast enough, couldn’t run, couldn’t even move to confirm or deny the question-

And then Ed was there. She hadn’t seen him move, but he must have pulled his arm away from Izumi, moved in front of her, she felt his firm touch on her upper arms and saw his lips moving until she could finally process the words instructing her to breathe. Her chest seized as she forced air into her lungs, blinking quickly. She checked over his shoulder to see that Izumi’s expression had softened marginally.

“Come back inside,” she said firmly, less of an invitation and more of an instruction, though not with the cold tone she had formerly adopted. “We can all talk in there.”

---

And talk they did.

Well, Ed and Al, at least. They started from the beginning- the very beginning, detailing how they’d only started taking alchemy seriously after they’d seen how happy it made their mother. As they told their teacher everything, from how they’d decided at her funeral to try and bring her back to how they felt learning under Izumi to the unification of their trio (leaving Becca’s own history out of it, thank God) to all the investigating they’d been doing as of late, she simply listened. No comments were made, no snide remarks, no harsh words. And that put Becca even more on edge where she’d opted to lean up against the wall next to the door rather than sitting at the table with the others.

“We know it was wrong, and we’re still trying to fix it,” Ed rounded the story out. “But Teacher, you can- I mean, back then you were able to- I asked you how to-”

Izumi sighed, running a hand through her thick hair. “Sig and I… we had been married for a few years and were trying to conceive,” she admitted. “We thought we were barren, but then we found out that I was with child.” Becca’s stomach dropped into her feet as Izumi smiled wistfully, remembering, “We were so excited. At least until I- I became ill. Our child never got the chance to take a breath in this world. I became obsessed with fixing what I thought I had failed at- what my body was built for and had failed to do.” She gestured down at her abdomen. “As a result of my arrogance, I lost some of my inner organs. I cannot have any more children of my own.” Her eyes, which had become misty with emotion, sharpened suddenly. “So yes, I committed the taboo. And that’s why I’m disappointed in you- and myself. I’m sorry for keeping it a secret from you two,” she said earnestly. “I can’t help but wonder if I could have changed your minds by warning you.” Izumi leaned forward, reaching across the table and placing a light hand on each boy’s cheek. “It must have been painful for you.”

Becca suddenly found herself leaning forward too, yearning for the maternal caress, before her mind caught up to her body and she snapped backwards. Who was she to want any type of relationship other than as a part-time teacher and student with the Curtises? She hadn’t earned any place in their hearts, hadn’t earned the right to that soft touch, no matter how much she wanted it (and she wanted it so damn much, it practically ached).

(She squashed that wanting down, subconsciously hunching in on herself.)

“Hey, it’s not like it’s your fault!” Ed said, sitting up straighter in his chair. His face wasn’t visible from where she stood, but Becca could hear the forced smile in his voice. “We did it to ourselves! And isn’t there a saying? ‘No pain, no gain’?”

“Yeah!” Al said brightly. “I’ve got so many things to look forward to, so waiting hasn’t been all that bad! Right, Brother?”

“You know it!”

Izumi smiled sadly, then stood up and crossed around to their side of the table, bending so she was at their level when they swivelled to look at her. Becca wished she could have suppressed the involuntary recoil at her movement. 

“You darling little idiots,” she murmured, pulling them both into a warm embrace and prompting a stunned silence with their heads resting on her shoulder. “You don’t have to be strong here, not with me. It’s okay to tell me that you’re hurting.”

Alphonse was the first one to crack, heavy metal arms settling around his teacher’s middle, though it wasn’t long before Ed’s joined it.

“We’re sorry,” Al whispered. “We’re so sorry.”

Ed’s voice was watery with unshed tears. “Forgive us. We’re sorry.”

“We’re so sorry, Teacher.”

Izumi soothed them, like a teacher, like a mother, stroking the backs of their heads, holding them tightly, not letting go until they released the back of her dress. The whole time, Becca stood as a silent guardian, watching over her boys as they finally let themselves fully relax into their teacher’s arms after the obvious pain that had come from having to lie to her. Vaguely, she remembered when she was held like that, after long days of lessons and nights where she woke up sick from overusing her alchemy with whispered words of encouragement. She wondered if Louisa would have stroked her hair during one of her headaches, or maybe rubbed her back. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she acknowledged that she wished she still had someone like that.

It seemed like she blinked and the hug was over. Izumi got up before she could ponder any longer, wiped her eyes, gently flicked a few tears from Ed’s face, and then assumed her a more formal mood as she retreated back to her own seat. “I won’t deny it’s impressive that you saw it lived. That must have taken great skill and planning from both of you. However, whether it was impressive or not doesn’t absolve you of taking responsibility for what you did. She paused, levelling a serious look at the boys, but unintentionally at Becca as well. “You’re expelled. There are plenty of trains out of town today. Get your asses on one. I’ll have Sig walk you to the station.”

All of them made a knee-jerk noise of surprise. All of Becca’s anxieties came rushing back. She’d felt safe here, in this house, and for the first time in a while, had felt like she was included in a family, not just as a guest Of course, it was too good to be true.. Why was she even surprised?

“But Teacher-” Al protested.

Dammit, Al, she thought, eyes widening in his direction. Don’t make her angry, just accept this and let’s get out while we can.

Ed held up a hand, stopping Al on his own. “Alright,” he said, unexpectedly somber at this turn of events. “Thank you.” He bowed respectfully to Izumi, then stepped back and tacked on, “For everything.”

As he passed her on the way out, Becca grabbed his hand, carefully avoiding Izumi’s hard gaze as she followed him and Al up the stairs to the bedroom they’d spent the previous night in.

She tried to convey everything he’d said to her that night in the Hughes family’s guest room- I’m here for you, I care about you, I have you when it feels like no one else does - before they separated wordlessly to gather their things. She wanted to say them, make absolutely clear that he knew, but now wasn’t the right time. Not when he was so pensive and reflective. So instead she just settled on, “I’m sorry.”

“We should have known she’d figure us out,” Ed said after a moment. 

Al nodded in agreement. “Maybe we should have prepared for something like this happening.”

“At least we’ve got the lead with your-”

“I’d prefer we leave our old man as a backup plan,” he interrupted, then, with a slight degree of uncertainty, continued, “if it’s all the same to you.”

“Of course, Brother.”

Becca hummed, shrugging easily. “Whatever you two say,” she agreed, shoving Ed lightly as she swung her suitcase over her shoulder. “It’s your quest.”

He smirked, shoved her back, and snapped the clasps of his own case. “We should head back to Central,” he said decisively. “Check in with Armstrong and Hughes and see if they’ve got anything on the people involved in making the Stone. Then maybe we can rendezvous with Mustang on the off chance he has a lead.”

Admittedly, Becca couldn’t hold back a short laugh at the thinly veiled jab at their absent superior. “Sounds like a plan.” She opened the door for them, only to see Sig waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs, bringing the mood back down immediately. Izumi was nowhere to be seen.

“You three ready?”

The Elrics each cast a long, melancholy look over their shoulder at their room, then let out a long, melancholy breath. “Yeah, let’s head out,” Ed said, shutting the door. 

For her part, Becca shouldered her bag and tried to silence the little voice pleading, begging to stay.

Chapter 21: numinous

Notes:

happy thursday, my dears!

i'm banging this out real quick before i go to school, but big news: next week i'm off on spring break!

and due to the stressful everything else going on in the world, most of my teachers aren't giving us work! so hopefully, i'll be able to get a little bit ahead on masterpiece and maybe even start a couple new projects i've been trying to get to.

storywise, just a quick warning for today, there is a description of a panic attack that starts at "'Sorry,' she whispered, dropping to her knees to pick it up" and ends around "'-An accident,' Izumi said coolly." i wanted to give y'all a heads up just in case. other than that, i love this chapter and finally fleshing out the curtises outside of becca's admittedly biased first impression was super fun, and i hope y'all enjoy it!

numinous (adjective)- feeling both fearful and awed by what is before you, having a strong religious or spiritual quality; indicating or suggesting the presence of a divinity

Chapter Text

Dublith was a nice midpoint between the nearly abandoned train stations of Rush Valley or Resembool and the bustling ones in the bigger cities like Central or East City. It reminded Becca of Adethal in a way- actually, after getting kicked out, possibly in more than one way.

But Becca couldn’t deal with the reminders of home, not now. Once again, she’d kept it together until they actually had to leave, and now she was crumbling while she and Al trailed behind their companions on the sidewalk. 

At least this time she’d seen it coming, though the whole hugging thing before admittedly threw her for a loop.

There are plenty of trains out of town today. Get your asses on one-

And this time, she thought firmly, Izumi hadn’t meant anything to her. So another plus.

It was selfish of you to make this big change without thinking-

Her unrelenting urge to get out of here, flee back to the familiarity of Central, was not selfish. It wasn’t. No one they trusted in Central- Hughes, Armstrong, Brosh and Ross- had ever betrayed them.

You leave now and you’re not welcome back, understood?

“Becca?”

Al’s voice shook her out of her reverie and she paused, only now realizing they’d reached their platform.

“Sorry,” she said softly as she tuned into the others’ conversation. “I got distracted.”

“You’re all welcome to stop by if you’re ever nearby,” Sig was saying, his voice low.

Ed winced. “I don’t think Teacher would be too thrilled about that.”

Sig promptly smacked the brothers’ upside the head, stunning all three teenagers into silence. In the back of her mind, Becca couldn’t help but consider maybe the Curtises were made for each other. 

“Don’t you idiots see? Izumi expelled you, so you’re no longer her students! Think about how many doors that opens for you- how many conversations she might have had apprehensions about having with you as students rather than equals! Now nothing’s in the way of talking to her as a scientific peer instead of your teacher!”

Becca paused, blinking. Ed’s head whipped towards Sig, eyes wide, then groaned loudly.

“Shit, I didn’t think of it like that!” he said, facepalming. “We didn’t get any of the answers we came for in the first place! We’ve gotta go back!” He almost leapt into a run, then froze, glancing over his shoulder regretfully at Becca. “Bex, this could be quick. You don’t have to- you can-”

“Go on,” Becca said before she could stop herself, her lips quirking up at his renewed life and concern. “Run. I’ll carry the bags and meet you there, promise.”

“I’ll make sure she gets back, so hurry up and don’t get yourselves killed,” Sig requested.

His golden gaze hardened and he shared a resolute nod with Al before both handed off their luggage to Becca or Sig and set off in a dead sprint, weaving around other commuters until they disappeared out of the station and back onto the street and left Becca alone with the giant of a man and two extra bags.

Becca then realized this might have been a little bit of a bad idea.

“They’ll probably fight with Izumi for a while,” Sig said casually, doing an awfully good job of hiding if he was bothered by (or had even noticed) her stiff posture, “and I’ve been expecting a delivery of some new cutting gloves.”

With that, he picked up Ed’s suitcase and headed out of the station as well. The invitation was clear and Becca hesitated for a moment before deciding that she didn’t know Dublith well enough to wander back on her own and sticking with the man was probably the smartest idea. Hands trembling nearly imperceptibly, she swung Al’s backpack over her shoulder, picked up her own case, and trotted after him, careful to keep a safe distance between them while staying within eyesight.

Sig had a natural solemn demeanor that Becca couldn’t quite see through- not one of her favorite things. However, he was also a man of few words, which she could respect. She assumed they’d run this errand, give the boys and their teacher enough time to work out an agreement, and head back to the shop in relative, if not comfortable, silence. So she jumped when he addressed her. 

“So what exactly made you want to work with the boys?”

“Our commanding officer,” she said, deadpan, the casual, flippant joke that would be right at home in the military barracks slipping off her tongue before she could think better of it. Stupid! That kind of attitude was for compatriots like Fuery, Havoc, and Breda, not her best friends’ mentors. Stupid, stupid, stupid! Quickly, she tried to cover, “Well, he assigned us together- but- but I’m really glad he did-” She ran her free hand through her hair, catching it on a knot that at least managed to ground her and force her to take a deep breath. “They’re so smart, both of them. And I know Mrs. Curtis isn’t particularly fond of the military, but they’ve done good work. You should be proud of them.” She gulped. “I mean- not that I don’t think you were already, I just-”

“We are proud of them,” Sig assured easily. “Even if Izumi doesn’t always show it. If anything, we wish they kept up with us more.” 

Becca laughed shakily, thinking of Winry and Pinako, Mustang and his team. “Yeah, lots of people do.”

He glanced back at her and something flickered in his dark eyes that she couldn’t recognize. “You any better about updating your family than those two?”

Not even bothering to ponder why he was asking or why he was looking at her like that, Becca just shook her head and tried to move on quickly. “Not really.” She trained her gaze firmly on the shoulders of the pedestrians in front of her, admitting, “Call the house once a month. Make sure it’s not in any serious trouble. Fire, burglarized, otherwise destroyed. The works.”

“Hm. They must worry.”
She hesitated, twirling a loose strand of hair around her finger. “I certainly worry someone,” she compromised. Not a lie, she told herself, thinking of Victor’s reaction the last time she’d called to check up on Adethal. It was the same as always, anxious questions and updates that she had to drag out of him between reassuring him of her safety, but God, that had been before even the Liore incident, hadn’t it? Things had been so busy, any thought of letting him know what was going on slipped her mind. Hell, she realized, she hadn’t even told him about her latest interaction with Will! 

He’s gonna lose his shit, she thought fondly, unable to keep herself from smiling as she made a mental note to call him as soon as she got the chance.

“I see,” Sig said, slowing down until Becca was walking beside him. He didn’t say anything more, but didn’t seem uncomfortable either. So evasive answers wouldn’t shake his foundation, huh?

They stayed silent throughout the rest of the walk through town, Sig exchanging waves with a few people Becca assumed were regular customers, until they reached the post office and Becca opted to wait outside while he checked for his package. Quietly, she thanked the universe that Dublith wasn’t small enough that strangers got weird looks. After the hectic last few days- babies, kicking outs, the resurfacing of old memories- she needed this minute to herself. She distracted herself watching the citizens of Dublith as they went about their daily lives, smiling at a gaggle of children who ran past, somehow managing to stick together as they pushed through the crowd, followed closely by an exasperated looking young woman, probably a babysitter. As her eyes followed them, they caught on a little blue toy falling to the ground. Before it got trampled, Becca leaned over and picked it up, turning the toy over until she could see the tiny face of a teddy bear.

“Hey!” she called over the din of the crowd. “Kid!”

The smallest boy, a toddler who wasn’t quite old enough to keep up with his older companions, was the only one to hear, but apparently the only one who needed to, since Becca held up the bear and he squealed, “Bootsy!”, teetering back towards her. 

It only took a few moments for the other children to realize he’d left and turn around, chasing after him. While she appreciated that they hadn’t just let the tot wander off by himself, Becca didn’t account for suddenly having the entire assembly crowding around her. She had to focus on the one little boy, bending down to his level to hand over the toy at the same time that she waved over the young woman.

“Bootsy!” he squealed again. He held up his bear to the caretaker that had finally caught up to them and proudly said, “Look, Miss Katie! She rescued Bootsy!”

“I saw,” the woman said. “What do you say?”

The boy gave Becca a toothy grin. “Thank you!”

She couldn’t stop herself from smiling in return, ruffling the boy’s hair. “It was nothing. Just make sure to keep an eye on him, yeah? And all of you, keep one on your teacher too. Don’t want to lose her, do we?”

All the children giggled, then nodded. A few gave a, “Yes, Miss!” or “We will!” The babysitter shot Becca a grateful look, then marshalled the kids into a more organized group and set off a little slower down the road.

“Becca?”

Becca jumped, any tension that had left her shoulders quickly returning as she straightened up and whirled around.

Sig raised his eyebrows at her (not impatiently, more reassuring? Strange). She took in the wrapped package dangling from one of his hands and forced herself to relax as he asked, “Are you ready to go back to the shop?”

“Yes, sir,” she agreed quickly, standing up and brushing her hands off on her pants. She glanced up at the man out of the corner of her eye, trying to gauge his expression, and dared to tease, “Hopefully they didn’t let themselves get roughed up too bad.”

His deep laugh rumbled through his chest and he set a gentle hand on her head as they walked. “Hopefully,” he repeated.

Becca could admit it, she flinched.

But then she smiled.

---

“No one’s screaming, so that’s a good sign,” Becca said as Sig gestured her through the garden gate.

“Definitely,” he agreed. He opened the side door and allowed her to trail behind him as he set his package on the table before calling out, “We’re home!”

“In the living room, dear!”

“Right through that door,” Sig said briskly with his index finger pointing the way.

A sharp stab of something uncomfortably close to betrayal shot through her gut, but she steeled herself either way, pulling her shoulders back and stepping into the next room.

Well, there weren’t any corpses, so that was a positive sign. The boys were crowded together on an old couch that only really fit on because of their wildly different sizes as Izumi sat with one leg over  the other on an overstuffed chair. All three of them stared up at her. Swallowing thickly, she asked, “So your meeting went well?”

“Less of a meeting, more of an argument,” Ed said, smiling crookedly at her, then across at Izumi. “But I think it was productive.”

“We realized I had to have seen the Truth too,” Al said excitedly, “probably more than you, Brother, or Teacher, since I gave up my whole body instead of just parts. It was so much I had to have forgotten it, but if we can get it back, there might be something that’ll help us get our bodies back!”

“You want to remember that- the Truth?” Becca furrowed her brow, biting her lip. “I guess it could be beneficial… even then, though, are you sure it’s worth it? It could- well, it could be seriously traumatizing.”

Rather than shrinking away, Al nodded, his posture shifting slightly like a child trying to look taller at a table of adults. Becca smiled, resisting the urge to pat him on the head at the youthful motion only made more humorous by his large stature. “Brother and Teacher already explained it to me. Still, if there’s a chance, I have to try. This could be the key to- to everything we’ve been working for!”

“Either way, we’re not going to get anywhere right away and I already had lunch going when you two rudely interrupted me,” Izumi said, shooting the brothers a fondly exasperated look. “Boys, will you set the table while Rebecca helps me in the kitchen?”

“Of course!”

“Yeah, sure.”

“No problem,” Becca said on instinct, then realized, seemingly in unison with the Elrics, what she’d agreed to and tried to backtrack. “Wait, hang on-”

“Teacher, I could-”

“We need Becca to-”

“Perfect!” Izumi chirped. She laid a hand on the small of Becca’s back (that still managed to make her tense up even if she tried not to) and guided her back towards their industrial kitchen. “This shouldn’t take more than a few minutes!”

Becca looked frantically over her shoulder at Ed, who at least seemed nervous for her, even if he couldn’t exactly do much to help her except mouth, It’ll be okay. You’re safe.

You’re safe. It’s alright , she kept telling herself. She won’t hurt you.

Still, as soon as Izumi moved her hand away, Becca sprang in the opposite direction, bumping into the wooden island and nearly knocking over a large pitcher, and with it, a full spoon set. Technically speaking, she did knock it over and only caught it with the very tips of her fingers. Still, one spoon clattered to the floor and she winced, drawing further into herself with every bounce on the tile it made.

“Sorry,” she whispered, dropping to her knees to pick it up. She didn’t dare look up, didn’t even breathe between her words as she stuttered, “I’m sorry- was an accident-”

Why were her damn hands shaking so much? And why weren’t they doing what she wanted? All she had to do was pick up the stupid spoon and return it to it’s proper place and accept whatever punishment came her way as a result and pull herself together to get lunch ready after and- it wasn’t that big of a deal, certainly not worth throwing this much of a fit over- what was happening to her? Someone was calling her name. She just wanted to respond, ask for help, but she couldn’t get enough air-

Air moved around her, certainly not into her lungs, but the same voice that had called for her insisted she needed to breathe and inhaled deeply. Becca tried desperately to copy.

“-breath. Take a deep breath with me. Just like me, come on, Becca.”

The spoon was still on the floor- she had to-

“I’ve got it. You’re not in any trouble. Breathe.”

She was breathing, wasn’t she?

“Listen to me. Can you hear me? Nod if you can hear me.”

Nodding. She could do that. She nodded.

“Alright, good. I’m going to count to four and you’re going to breathe in for that four seconds. Then you’re going to hold it. Understand.”

Becca nodded again.

The voice began to count and Becca tried to force herself to suck in air.

“Just like that, you’re right. Now hold.”

Was she right? Nothing felt different. If she wasn’t breathing before, she certainly wasn’t now. Still, she clenched her muscles like she would to hold a breath, quivering.

“And let it go slowly. One more time.”

The voice instructed her to repeat the process a few more times before Becca suddenly felt air flood her lungs and abruptly gasped, her hands flying up to her chest and neck. She hadn’t noticed, but her vision had gone slightly fuzzy and was clearing up rapidly to reveal the foggy visage of Izumi hovering in front of her. The sight almost sent her back into a panic, but the woman didn’t seem upset with her. Oddly, the expression on her face read more as concerned, which hadn’t really registered as a possibility in Becca’s head before she noticed it. Either way, she wasn’t mad yet, so Becca continued to suck oxygen in, chest rising and falling rapidly as she felt herself collapsing backwards and a wooden cabinet against her back. Her stomach flipped and she heaved, though, thankfully, nothing actually came up. She didn’t think she could handle the humiliation from that.

“I’m sorry,” she rasped once she could talk again. “I didn’t mean to. It was-”

“-An accident,” Izumi said cooly, “I know. What I don’t know is why a simple accident like that caused a panic attack. And that’s my real question.”

She had already bent down to Becca’s level, but she moved slowly, scooting over to sit next to her on the floor, back to the cabinet doors. She didn’t say anything, keeping her distance while staying close enough that Becca could touch her if she reached out. Both of them fell silent except for Becca’s shaky breaths. It didn’t seem like Izumi was going to force her to talk, but the olive branch was clearly offered, if only Becca could reach out and take it.

“I don’t have great experience with teachers,” she blurted out. She clapped a hand over her mouth, some horrible form of guilt swelling in her chest. Izumi hardly flinched. In fact, she just nodded, encouraging her to go on. Slowly, she pulled her hand back down, resting both of them in her lap and squeezing hard to ground herself. And just as the boys had that morning, she started from the beginning; her mother, her father, Louisa, her brother, their training, how their family had formed and then broken apart bit by bit. How she’d pulled herself together to make a new family with Ed and Al. Every detail, everything that had happened except the knowledge about her life debt (even then, she was still careful to keep that hidden. It didn’t matter anyway, she justified) spilled out uncontrollably. What started as short sentences, a slow drip of little anecdotes, turned into a torrent of overflowing emotion, accompanied by thoroughly unwanted tears streaming down her cheeks no matter how many times she wiped them away.

“And you’ve been so nice and I’ve been so nervous for nothing but I’ve just been waiting for the other shoe to drop and I didn’t want to let the boys see, but I know I’ve been doing such a shitty job hiding it,” she rambled. “And then you kicked us out and I was- I had just wanted so badly to be wrong, but it seemed like it was happening again and I felt awful that I had seen it coming and I wasn’t- it hurt but-”

“Oh, Becca,” Izumi murmured, sounding heartbroken. Becca’s chest seized. Why did she sound so sad? “Can I give you a hug?”

Hiccuping, Becca wrapped her arms around her legs, nodding quickly as she hid her face. Warm arms swaddled her up, one hand stroking her hair (Oh, God, Becca didn’t even want to think about the state that was in by now) as Izumi mumbled, “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“You didn’t mean to,” she sniffed.

Izumi pulled away, grabbing Becca’s chin to make sure they made eye contact. “But I did. My actions scared you. Whether it was intentional on my part or not, I need to apologize.”

“Oh.” Becca’s lip quivered again and she frenetically scrubbed her eyes with the edges of her shirt sleeves. “Then I accept your apology. Th-thank you.”

“Good girl,” Izumi said, fully letting go of Becca and standing back up. She offered Becca a hand, pulled her up, and brushed a stray tear off of her cheek. “Now go ahead upstairs and clean up.”

“I thought you needed help with lunch,” Becca, still a bit dazed from her crying session, said.

“I needed to speak with you alone,” Izumi clarified. “Lunch just needs to be thrown in the oven. It’ll be ready in a few minutes.” Nonplussed, Becca stepped towards the staircase, then hesitated. Izumi waved her up. “Go on.”

Becca blinked away another round of tears- happy ones this time, she thought- and smiled a little, repeating, “Thank you.”

Izumi shot her a maternal smile in return. “You’re very welcome.”

---

The Curtis couple’s meat shop wasn’t quite as scary after that day. Being on the same page of where she stood with them certainly helped Becca’s nerves, as well as the little gestures they both made to include her and instill an appreciated, if a little aggressive, message that their home was now hers as well. 

(Sig stared at her once morning all throughout her morning routine for her cup of tea, not saying anything; unnerving, but she came downstairs the next day to see a mug already made in the exact way she liked it-- closer to perfection in one go than even Ed had managed to get in several months.)

(A different time, she woke up late one afternoon after an accidental nap in the library to a deep blue pillow and blanket proclaimed as hers tossed in her face by a stern Izumi, quote, “so you’re at least comfortable next time”. Ed and Al laughed when she’d asked them about it and in turn showed off their own sets of gifted bed things, one bright red and one pale yellow, usually kept in a trunk in their room.)

Izumi ordered Becca to take the day after her panic attack off, but roused all teenagers bright and early the next day, as well as every day after that, for chores, running errands, researching, and, of course, training, although she tended to intwine training into pretty much every aspect of their daily lives in her home. Unloading supplies for the shop turned into a lesson on how to hoist something heavier than oneself to carry on across the shoulders instead of deadlifting. Instructions to go down to the post office to check for mail would be supplemented with a condition to run both ways. Becca could go help research, but only if she could tell Izumi the exact chemical makeup of the beef they’d eaten for dinner, and which components did what for her body.

They worked hard, but that just allowed them to play harder when they had the time. Becca found herself integrating into the rhythm of the household with ease, eating, sleeping, laughing, and just being a teenage girl for once. Knowing you’d have a bed and a warm meal available when you came home was nice, yes, yet the sense of family and belonging that came with them was nicer.

Although it woke her up, she hardly even flinched when Ed swore loudly and tumbled out of bed on their fifth day there, followed by Izumi stomping up the stairs to shout at him for being so loud this early. For her part, Becca lazily stretched and rolled over onto her other side to take in his sprawled limbs and mumble, “What’s wrong? You sore?”

“No, not that,” he replied, picking himself up just as fast as he’d fallen. “I just- it’s September 30th and I-”

Becca sat up, tugged her blanket around her shoulders, and opened her mouth to ask why he needed to know when comprehension hit her. “Oh, shit ,” she hissed through her teeth. “It’s your assessment day, isn’t it?”

“Assessment day?” Izumi asked.

“My State Alchemist assessment,” Ed explained. He reached for a pair of (hopefully clean) pants from his suitcase and tripped into them, barely avoiding hitting the floor again by Al catching the neck of his tank top, which he shrugged off easily and continued, “which needs to be done properly or I’ll lose my certification! I forgot because we’ve been so busy lately-”

“Oh, is that all? Don’t worry about it, I’ll just call and tell them you’re not coming,” Izumi said dismissively.

“No way! Teacher, I know you don’t approve, but we need the opportunities this gives us!” Ed snapped. “Plus I can’t just leave Becca partner-less, who knows who the bastard colonel would assign her with instead?”

Obligingly, Becca stuck her bottom lip out in a little pout, fluttering her eyelashes slightly up at Izumi, who gave her an unimpressed look but at least took her hand off the doorknob and folded her arms.

“Technically, I should get back to East City HQ to meet up with Mustang, but that’ll be a few days -”

“Isn’t South City a few more stops down?” Al pointed out. “You could hop the soonest train there and be back by tomorrow if you wanted.”

Ed snapped his fingers, pointing over to Al. “That’s right! You’re a genius, Al!”

Becca tossed him his coat. “Is there enough time for you to write your report on the train?”

“I’ll make something up, don’t worry!” Boots and gloves on, Ed shoved a few of his other things, namely a notebook and his watch, into a rucksack and slung it over his back. “Testing could take a while, so I’ll try to be back tomorrow night!”

He threw the bedroom door open and his heavy footsteps bounded downstairs, but Becca spotted an abandoned fountain pen on the dresser-- the one Ed usually wrote with, specially adjusted so he could use it with his left hand without smudging the ink. She sprung out of bed, grabbing the pen and skidding out onto the landing. “Ed, wait!”

He whirled around, paused at the foot of the staircase. She held up the utensil, shaking it teasingly and prompting him to pat down his pockets before holding out an expectant hand. Becca grinned, tossing the pen. It fell cleanly, right into his open palm, and his face lit up proudly. “Thanks, Bex! See you tomorrow!”

Mute, Becca waved farewell, her smile softening unconsciously. “Be safe,” she said even though he could no longer hear her.

“Well!” Izumi exclaimed from behind her, clapping a hand onto Becca’s shoulder. “That was an eventful start to the morning! But the shop still needs opening, let’s get busy!”

“Alright!” Al said happily, squeezing past Becca on his way to the kitchen.

Izumi squeezed Becca and eyed her teasingly out of the corner of her eyes. “Distracted, are we?”

Squeaking indignantly, Becca’s cheeks got hot and she tried to hide them behind her hands. “I- no. Sorry.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” Izumi hummed, stepping after Al and leaving Becca to pull herself together alone.

---

“Hey, Becca?”

Sitting back on her heels and dropping her rag in a bucket of soapy water, Becca turned away from the display window she was in the middle of scrubbing and called back, “What’s up, Al?”

“I was sweeping the steps outside,” Al said, crouching down to sit criss-cross next to her, “and I found this weird note.”

Becca took the offered paper and unfolded it, mouthing the words as she read them: We know your secret. Come to the Devil’s Nest if you want to talk. She looked up, raising an inquisitive brow. “The Devil’s Nest?”

“It’s an old, abandoned bar in the bad part of town.” Al looked around furtively, checking for-

Her lips ticked up, amused. “Izumi’s at the doctor’s office,” she assured.

He relaxed and confided, “Teacher doesn’t know, but Brother and I used to play tag around that area. I think I know where it is.”

She glanced up through her bangs, gnawing on her bottom lip. “I don’t know, Al,” she said hesitantly. “It sounds kinda suspicious. You know that. Maybe we should wait for your teacher to get back and see what she has to say. You said you found it in the street, so it might not have been meant for you.”

“But what if it is something useful? Who knows how long they’ll wait?”

“Hmm…” Becca pondered the note in her hand, tracing over the words Devil’s Nest . “Still…”

“And we can’t just let another lead slip through our fingers!”

Becca sank back, rubbing her temples, then gave an indulgent look. “I think you’ve already talked yourself into going. What’s the point of bringing it up to me?”

Al crossed his arms, hunching his shoulders. “Well, the note didn’t say I had to come alone.”

Oh. Becca practically felt her heart warm and a pleased smile spread over her face. “Of course. If you think it’s that big of a deal, I’ve got your back. Just let me grab my coat.”

---

Ideally, the two of them would have been totally confident heading into the situation alone. Becca knew they were both strong fighters and that they didn’t need Ed-- while he certainly helped, both Becca and Al had faced down and held their own against enemies without him. That wasn’t what was making her heart race and palms sweat, nor was it the lingering  fear of what Izumi might do to them if she found out what they were doing. No. The potential for a fight was a constant in their lives, hardly a cause for concern. The unknown, though? Knowing you were about to meet a mysterious third party who apparently already had damning information on one of your own?

That made her nervous.

Hardly a word passed between them as they walked, Becca’s fingers tap, tap, tapping away on her thigh as Al guided her down alley after alley.

“It should be right down here,” he said, voice lowering to a whisper.

“So be careful,” Becca muttered in agreement. They peered around a corner to where three people lingered around a heap of building scraps. One, a dark haired man laying down, sat up slowly and looked around, clearly searching for something-- probably them-- as he spoke in a quiet voice to his companions.

“You didn’t come alone,” the biggest person, a beefy man with some sort of large hammer, said. His voice was gravelly and his body seemed to protest as he pushed himself to his feet with his weapon.

Al stepped out from the alley, crossing his arms harshly. “You didn’t say I had to.”

After a moment of hesitation, Becca followed suit and mimicked his body position.

“We thought it was implied,” the man rebutted. “But no matter. I suppose you’re right, the boss didn’t say you couldn’t bring allies.”

“What’s this about anyway?” Becca demanded, at least sounding significantly braver than she felt. She held up the note she’d kept between two fingers and recited, “‘We know your secret.’ Are you guys ‘we’?”

“Sure are,” the shorter man said proudly. “There’s quite a lot we know about the big man over here.”

“That’s good,” Al said, “because there’s quite a lot I’d like to know about myself.”

“Well, it’s nice that we’re in agreement.” The last person, female, by the sound of her voice, and thin, cracked a smile. “So why don’t you kids just come with us and you can chat with our boss? He’s a fair guy, he’ll tell you what you want to know for the right price.”

“But… my teacher told me to never go off with strangers” Al said, suddenly sounding much younger than he had in the past few minutes. Becca glanced up at Al out of the corner of her eye, wondering what angle he was playing here, as the three strangers raised their eyebrows.

The smallest one was the first to recover from the abrupt change, shooting Al a winning smile and asking, “Now how old are you, kid?”

“I- I’m fourteen.”

“Fourteen? That’s plenty old to be making your own decisions, don’t you think?” the man pushed. “You’re basically a man, you don’t have to listen to what your teacher taught you.”

“Make my own decisions?”

“Yeah!” He meandered over to them, ignoring how Becca tensed, hands coming up defensively, and punched Al on the shoulder. “So what do you say? All the answers you could ask for, right in front of you.”

Al hummed, the sound echoing through his armour, bringing his hand up as if to rest his chin on it-- then snapped it to the side, catching the man on the temple and sending him flying backwards into the pile of rubbish he’d been sitting on. “I’ve made my decision,” he announced sternly, sinking down into a fighting position. “And I decided I’m going to do what my teacher would tell me to do and get the answers on my terms!”

“Hell yeah!” Becca cheered.

The large man groaned, stretching his arms up above his head. “So it comes down to fighting? That’s unfortunate.”

Becca dropped into a defensive stance of her own, if only for a moment, until Al snagged her arm and charged straight at the two remaining people. They each raised their weapons, opening their chests for a potential attack which Becca touched her hands together to prepare for, only for Al to surprise everyone and bolt right past them, dragging Becca along for the ride.

“What are you thinking?” she hissed as she tripped over her own feet trying to adjust to the change in pace of the confrontation.

“I told you, Brother and I played here when we were little,” Al explained. The people behind them finally figured out what happened and started to give chase, so he tossed a stray piece of wood over his head at them before justifying, “We might not be able to beat them in a straight fight, not two on three when we don’t know anything about them or their abilities. It’s too risky. But I know my way around here and I can’t get tired, so we can outrun them. If you start lagging behind, I’ll just pick you up and keep going, okay?”

“If we tire them out,” she said, realization dawning.

“Then we can talk to them without getting the crap beaten out of us,” Al finished. “Exactly.”

Becca grinned and clapped her hands together excitedly. “That’s brilliant! Let’s go then!”

Chapter 22: abditory

Notes:

good morning on this lovely thursday my dears!

sadly, spring break was not quite as productive on this particular story as i had hoped (scholarship essays are a doozy), so the possibility of a short hiatus within the next three or four updates as all those final senior things go down isn't off the table.

HOWEVER that doesn't mean i didn't do a little extra for y'all last week-- i'm literally working right now to try and get it up here, but if i don't have time, there'll be a second chapter uploaded later today with a little surprise, so keep an eye out.

other than all that on the business end, i don't have much this morning in terms of anything else. i've gotta get going on my way to school but i gotta admit, while i'm not the biggest fan of some elements of this chapter, i felt like you get to see becca in a situation you don't always see her in, and i am excited about that (plus i have fed y'all with a little bit of sweet becca/ed fluff right at the end and i'm planning for much more in the next two chapters so get hyped for that lol)

abditory (noun)- a place into which you can disappear, a hiding place

UPDATE: i tried and the surprise isn't working as expected, i'll be sure to update again later once i figure out how to fix it lol

Chapter Text

“Here, in here.” Al’s gauntlet tightened around Becca’s upper arm as he tugged her off the main path and into an abandoned building filled with old, rusty pipes. Becca still heard water being pumped through them despite their age. The idea that maybe this place was a little more than met the eye crossed her mind until Al said,  “We lost them a few streets back. We can set a trap and catch them off guard.”

“Right,” Becca panted, hands on her knees as she tried to catch her breath. “Sounds great. Give me a sec.”

“Oh, oops,” Al said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry, Becca. I should have grabbed you earlier.”

She waved off the concern. “‘S fine. I didn’t ask you to and I wasn’t falling seriously behind. Just tell me the plan.”

“Right! Well, I was thinking-”

The familiar clang of metal on metal cut him off and (very dirty, Becca might add) water splashed out over both of them, sending Al sprawling out of the way to protect his blood seal and soaking Becca to the bone. At least the surprise reinvigorated her adrenaline and she was able to stand back up straight to face whatever was coming.

Whatever turned out to be the smaller man from before, now sporting a blooming bruise from Al’s earlier punch. He’d pulled out a long sword from a formerly untouched scabbard on his back- seriously, with this guy and 48 in Lab 5, were swords coming back into fashion? If so, Becca wanted one- which he pointed across the room at them.

“You two are either really lucky or really stupid,” he said. “But this is the end of the- hurgh!”

Becca swayed on her feet as she brought her kicking leg back to the ground. The opponent had been sturdier than she’d anticipated, but had still keeled over with a solid kick to the gut. Al jumped in, landing another well-placed punch. This time, however, the man reacted quickly, bringing his sword up, not to strike, but to hook onto Al’s helmet. As he stumbled backwards, falling on his rear and shouting angrily about hitting his eye, the helmet flew through the air. 

“My head!” 

Al’s hands scrabbled frantically in the air, too distracted to see the slender woman slink over the pipes. Becca did and opened her mouth to shout for him to watch you, only to be caught by a strong arm around the middle and jerked back into a massive chest. A second hand came up to cover her mouth and the woman let go of the pipe she was hanging on, cooing, “Mind if I drop in?”

“Al!” Becca shouted, muffled by the hand of the person holding her, the beefy man from earlier, she believed. She kicked back, hoping to hit a knee, a thigh, between the legs if possible, to no avail. The man just hoisted her up further

“Ew, ew, ew, get out of me!” Al protested. His hands flew from the air above him to the straps holding his chestplate on, probably to yank the thing off so he could pry the woman out, until Becca heard a grunt from inside his body and his limbs wrenched to his side. “You can’t control me like that! I’m stronger than you!” 

“That’s enough,” the large man said firmly. “We aren’t looking to control you. We just want you to cooperate. And unless you have reinforcements coming to check up on you, I don’t really think you have another option. Our boss doesn’t want to hurt you. He just wants to talk.”

God, we should have waited for Izumi.

The shorter man grumbled, getting to his feet, but picked up Al’s head and turned it so the darkened eyes met Becca’s. Knowing better, she glanced over at his body and shook her head as much as she was able.

He sighed. “Alright, fine. Where’s your boss?”

“Right back where we started,” the tall man said. “If you hadn’t run, this would have been a whole lot easier.” He straightened up and Becca’s feet dangled just a few inches off the ground instead of a few feet. “I’m going to put you down and you’re going to walk where we tell you, nod once if you understand.”

Gritting her teeth, Becca obliged and was placed back down to stagger away from the man. “Be careful in there,” she snapped in the general direction of Al’s body to make sure the woman inside heard her. “Sliding in like you did could have damaged his blood seal.”

“Oh, please,” the woman fired back, voice echoey. “Don’t underestimate how slippery I can be.”

“Ladies, ladies, no time for fighting,” the short man said coyly. “You two can get your cat claws out when we’re back at the bar.”

“Why don’t you-”

“Dolcetto, you need to-”

“-Shut up!” the two women finished in unison.

---

Apparently, being an “unexpected variable” meant that someone had to consult with their boss to figure out what to do with Becca. So she’d been sat in a veritable broom closet, a length of chain digging into her wrists, twisted uncomfortably backwards so her palms couldn’t touch, with the man who’d picked her up earlier on a box near the door. 

“You’re not going to get any ransom for us,” she tried.

“Sure, let’s pretend we didn’t already know we were potentially dealing with two State Alchemists,” the large man said, raising a brow. “If that was what we wanted, I’m sure we’d get it. But it’s not.”

“It was worth a shot,” Becca sighed. She sat back against the wall and pulled her knees up to her chin, peering over the tops. “Can I assume we’ll be here a while?”

The man just grunted. 

Becca blew a puff of air out of her nose. “Great. Am I at least allowed to know who you guys are?”

“Roa,” the man introduced gruffly. “The little guy was Dolcetto, and the girl was Martel.”

Technically answered my question, but not at all helpful, Becca thought, annoyed. “Well, Roa, you were pretty strong back there, throwing me around like that.” She tried to look his massive hammer up and down, stood on its wider end in the corner, as discreetly as she could. “Though I guess you’d have to be to use that all the time.”

Roa hmphed. “There’s a saying-- ‘strong as an ox’. You could say I make that saying rather literal.”

“How do you mean?”

His muscles bulged, straining against his shirt, and Becca quickly backed off as much as she could given the space as two tiny spots on his forehead widened and sharpened before he relaxed and his body returned to normal.

“I don’t- I don’t understand,” Becca breathed.

“You’re an alchemist, I’m sure you’ve heard of chimeras.”

Nina and Alexander flashed through her mind and her jaw clenched. “That’s not possible. The military had an alchemist who attempted it and they were- they weren’t like-”
“I was in the military, kid. Believe me, they are like this.” He gestured downwards, over his whole body. “I got injured in Ishval and they took me to a lab. Merging what was left of my body with an ox saved my life, but they sure as hell didn’t get my opinion on it.” His eyes glinted in the low light, challenging her to say something as he stated, “And I was one of the few successful ones that kept my human mind. Why should I be kept in a cage to be poked and prodded at like some kind of lab rat when I have the ability to continue on as I was with a community of people who have also been let down by the rest of the world? Even if it is in the shadows of society?”

Becca couldn’t help herself, she gagged. There was no way. If human chimeras were a realizable goal and Nina had just- no. That wouldn’t be fair. It couldn’t be true.  “You’re lying,” she choked out.

He shrugged, checking his watch. As if on cue, three curt knocks sounded on the outside wall. Becca jumped at the same time that Roa simply nodded and stood up. “Right then. Sorry to blow your faith in your government, but the boss is on his way and he wants to talk to both of you.”

“Faith in the government is not my problem- hey!” She wrenched forward, tugged along, out the door and down the hallway, by the end of the chain held in Roa’s large hand. “Careful with that, these are tight-”

Luckily, they didn’t have to go far, only passing three empty, silent, closed-off rooms before he shouldered a different door open into a large, nearly empty bar. At the opposite end of the room, Al sat criss-cross applesauce with an identical loop of chain around his wrists next to the shorter man from earlier-- Dolcetto, if Becca remembered correctly. Becca heard another person breathing and assumed the woman-- Martel-- was still sitting inside him as well. However, in the few seconds it took for her to take her actual surroundings in, her body had already moved without permission. Her restraint slipped out of Roa’s hand and she rushed to Al, falling to her knees beside him (nearly tumbling over due to her useless hands in the process) and resting her elbows on his knee.

“Are you alright?” she said frantically, scanning up and down his armour. “Did they hurt you?”

“I’m okay,” Al assured her. “Don’t worry-”

“I thought that was the whole point of his body,” a smooth voice from the main front door said, “that we can’t hurt him, right?”

They both looked up at a newcomer, Becca barely shifting so she was splayed in front of Al. Still, the man, tall, dark haired, with dark sunglasses obscuring his eyes, moved quickly, almost too quickly for Becca to see, and he grabbed the tuft of hair on Al’s head, snatching the helmet off in one motion.

“Hey!” Al protested. “Why do you people keep taking my head?”
“Whoa!” The man ignored him, peering down at Martel inside, then grinned around the room at the rest of the lackeys who’d followed him in. “He really is hollow!” Carelessly, he dropped the head back into its proper place and patted a seething Becca on the head. “Nice to meetcha, kids. Call me Greed. I’ve been wanting to make a deal.”

Al tensed up beneath her as his head clicked back to normal. He gasped. “You have an ouroboros tattoo.”

Greed’s hand twitched and Becca’s eyes flew down to it, taking in the familiar, eerie dragon marking. The man hummed. “That means something to you?”

“We met a few people in Central who had those,” Becca said.

“Ooh, who’d you meet? The bitch, Lust? Or that idiot, Sloth?”

Lust, Sloth, Envy… and seemingly Greed. Something about those names rang in the back of her mind, but nothing concrete was coming to the forefront. She filed the information away for later to look into with a library on hand and tried to keep her face impassive. “It doesn’t matter. Your buddies blew up a building, so we didn’t get off on a great foot.”

The man leaned down, crowding into Becca’s bubble. “They’re not my buddies, cutie,” he said patronizingly. “So don’t let any bad experiences with them sour anything with me, okay?”

She felt his eyes practically boring into her through his sunglasses and looked away, eyes unconsciously flicking down to follow a tiny scratching noise on the floor for only a second before going back to Greed. For on the cold stone floor, Al had started gouging a transmutation circle with his finger. With her hands tied the way they were, she couldn’t quite stretch to do that, meaning she had to keep Greed’s attention on her while he finished.

“What do you want with us?” she asked. “How do you know about Al?”

“Back in East City, you fought a serial killer, right? And the fight wasn’t behind closed doors or anything. Plenty of people saw.”

Becca’s mouth went dry and she forced herself to swallow thickly. “The- Colonel Mustang was supposed to put a gag order out on any information pertaining to Scar.”

“Putting a gag order doesn’t stop gossip from spreading, believe it or not,” Greed chuckled. “And that gossip made its way down here to me. As for what I want, I think it’s rather simple. After all, a soul bound to an object- as long as the object isn’t destroyed, isn’t that basically an immortal life?”

Eyes narrowing, Becca let her balance fail for a moment, falling backwards against Al’s leg, both to obscure his hand a little more and to get some distance between her and Greed, who steamrolled on without waiting for an answer.

“As my name implies, I’m very greedy. I want everything this world has to offer-- money, property, things, fame-” He tilted his glasses down, tracing an abnormally cold hand down Becca’s cheek, “-women.”

Distaste swelled in Becca’s chest and, before she could think better of it, she leaned forward and spat at Greed’s feet. Al exclaimed her name in surprise from behind her, but she kept her gaze screwed ahead. Greed scowled, his grip clenching around her chin.

“Watch it, brat,” he growled. “I’m giving you two the option to cooperate, but if it comes down to it, I won’t hesitate to take your buddy right here apart instead to figure out the secret to transmuting a soul.”

“If that’s what you want to know, how come you don’t ask the others?”

That took him aback, strikingly violet eyes widening. “Others?”

“Your buddies?” Becca prompted again. “The other people with that tattoo? They had a couple of armored souls-- we fought them. I’m sure they have the information you want.”

“Huh, well, wouldn’t you know?” Greed said, letting her chin go in surprise. 

Becca fell back onto Al’s calf with a small grunt, seemingly breaking the man’s trance, forcing him to recover with a bright, simpering, “Well, long, boring story short, I’m not on great terms with them. Not like I am with you two!” He wrapped a muscular arm around Becca’s shoulder, grinning down at her again.

Al’s leg moved a tiny bit beneath her and Becca followed the silent guidance without hesitation, scooting out of the way as he cried, “You’re not getting any information out of us!”

A stone fist erupted from the ground, brushing within inches of Becca’s head but hitting Greed square in the stomach. The man gave a satisfying “oof!” and Becca turned over her shoulder to see Al already scraping another circle onto the ground. She made the mistake of assuming that Greed would be thrown across the room like opponents usually were. Evidently, Greed wasn’t a normal enemy, since his hand shot out past Becca and grabbed the back of Al’s head, then slammed him over her lap, right into the ground. Red energy like the woman from Lab Five sparked around his stomach as the resounding clatter echoed through the room and Becca tried to piece together how he’d taken the hit so effortlessly. The bar went silent except for a low groan from inside of Al.

“Oops, sorry, Martel,” Greed said coolly. “I forgot you were in there.” Continuing to hold Al’s head against the floor, he nudged Becca’s thigh with the toe of his boot. “You guys do work well together, don’t you? That’s admirable. I like it. But nothing you can do will work against me, understand?”

“You wanna bet?” Al snarked, wiggling as much as he could against Greed’s unrelenting hold.

“I think I’d put money on it,” Greed said, smiling and stepped back. Al slowly sat up. “Allow me to give a demonstration of exactly why.”

Without warning, Roa heaved his hammer up from the ground and took a swing at Greed. Rather than dodging to show off extreme agility or reaching out to stop it in a display of threatening strength, the swing made contact with the dark haired man’s head. Becca froze in shock as blood and brains spattered across the room, including onto her and Al. The remainder of his body collapsed.

“Oh, my God.” She cringed, her finger coming up to wipe at a splash on her cheek.

“Wh- why- how could you-?” Al stuttered, “I thought he was your- your-”

Roa rolled his eyes, pointing down at Greed’s body, which started to twitch and spasm, red lightning crackling up and down his form. In tandem, similar light shone around her and Al, the mess from Roa’s attack disappearing in tiny flashes as Greed pushed his reforming body back to a sitting position. Dolcetto offered him a hand and he stood, popping his neck with a satisfied groan. “Mm… that’s one death.” He twisted back and forth a few times, stretching his obliques, and critiqued, “You couldn’t have done it a little cleaner, Roa?”

“Sorry, sir.”

“You said ‘that’s one death’,” Becca pointed out. “So you can do... that, but you don’t already consider yourself immortal?”

“Perceptive. No, I’m not immortal.” Greed’s pointed teeth bared into a sharp smile.”Not really. You two ever heard of a homunculus? Alchemists call them artificial human beings- people that aren’t really people.” He spread his arms proudly, showing off his tattooed hand. “I am one of those people. So I’m built to be pretty resilient. Have been for about 200 years now.”

“Impossible…” Becca breathed.

Roa laughed, letting his weight fall onto his hamm like a cane. “Seems like you think a lot of things are impossible.”

“Don’t laugh, Roa,” Greed stopped him, holding up a hand. “She’s just repeating what she’s been told. You know it is impossible in their world, and they haven’t seen the underworld like we have.” His eyes flickered between Becca and Al, one eyebrow tilting upwards as he folded his sunglasses away. “There’s no such thing as no such thing. Learn that and live by it. And besides, shouldn’t your existence just prove my sentiment further?” he asked, gesturing to Al. He sat back in his hips and cocked a hand on his waist. “Now I told you my secret, so it’s time for you to tell me about yours.”

“You ought to tell him,” Martel advised from her seat in his chest cavity. “Although you’re in this body, I can’t imagine being dissected would be enjoyable.”

“I- I’m sorry,” Al said, voice jilted. “Even if I wanted to tell you, I can’t. I didn’t- I don’t know how I ended up in here. I didn’t do the transmutation with my soul.”

Greed snapped his fingers, smirking. “That’s alright! Just tell me who did and I’ll go have words with him.”

“Well, it was my brother,” Al explained quietly. “But he’s not- he’s not around.”

Any energy that was in the room dipped immediately as Greed pulled back, whispering, presumably to conference with his men on their next course of action. Except, when he came back, a group of them, including Greed, surrounded Becca and Al and bent down to their level, patting their shoulders and awkwardly reassuring them with gentle, “Cheer up”s and “We’ll figure something else out”s.

Becca glanced up at Al, confusion probably written across her face. Al rested his head atop Becca’s and whispered, “I think they think Brother died,” in a much too nonchalant tone for his words. A shrill giggle almost bubbled over Becca’s lips that she managed to pass off as a muffled sob by clapping a hand over her mouth and hiding her face in Al’s shadow.

“We’ll find another way. Let’s see if we can’t jog your memory,” Greed proposed. “Talk us through the night you got this body.”

---

Yawning, Becca wished (not for the first time) that she could move her wrists enough to reach for her watch and check the time. It had to have been almost a full night of a bunch of amateurs trying to get Al’s memory back, culminating in one man bent in front of Al with a ticking watch attempting to hypnotize him.

At least they hadn’t taken her watch to do it, she thought tiredly.

“So watch and listen as the clock swings and go back, back, back to when you attempted human transmutation with your brother,” he instructed. “Calmly remember that day when you were a ten year old boy…”

They all waited with baited breath until Al let out a sigh and admitted, “Nothing. I still can’t remember.”

“This is such a waste of time,” Becca complained, closing her eyes as she let her head fall sideways onto her shoulder.

“Why can’t we just take him apart and analyze him?” someone asked.

Al winced. “If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather you at least get someone who’s at least as competent as a State Alchemist to do it. I’m not sure how much I trust you guys not to mess it up.” Becca elbowed him and he added a tiny, “No offense.”

“Lucky for you, we have a State Alchemist right here,” Greed, who had been patient with him early in the process, said, annoyed.

Becca grit her teeth. “I’m not going to-” She paused, ears pricking up at distant shouting. Greed opened his mouth and she held up a finger with a small, “Shush.”

“You hear her too?” Al squeaked.

Becca paled, finally putting a face to the yelling voice. “Oh, no.”

With an ear-splitting boom, the double doored entrance to the bar slammed open. Becca and Al both flinched. A sandalled foot stepped inside, accompanied by the sound of something heavy being dragged.

“Hi, excuse me, just looking for two lost morons,” Izumi said briskly, holding the shirt of an unconscious man at the entrance. She smiled saccharinely upon seeing them and strode forward while they shrunk away, then flipped the man she was pulling along over her shoulder and knocked Al clean onto his back. “Why the hell did you two get kidnapped? What is wrong with you?”

“It was his idea!” Becca said at once, scooting out of the rampaging woman’s way as she stormed past protesting chimeras and Greed himself.

“Sorry, Teacher!” Al whimpered.

“Hey, Lady, don’t just ignore us!” one man argued.

“Yeah, who do you think you are?”

Izumi stood up, pivoting with a hard glare on her face. One man approached, pushing up his sleeves, and tried to strike at Izumi. She easily grabbed his head, slamming it down into his knee. The attacker stumbled away, shocked, as Izumi brought a thumb to her chest and proclaimed, “I’m a housewife!”

Greed huffed exasperatedly, running a hand through his hair before waving the rest of his men forward with one hand. “I hate having to do this to a pretty woman,” he bemoaned.

Of course, because it was Izumi and no one outside of God themself had ever managed to put a scratch on her, she took them all down with ease, then stomped up so she was chest to chest with Greed.

And Greed didn’t even break a sweat. He only sighed again. “Now that wasn’t very nice. I haven’t done anything to you.”

“You have some of my kids-” Her kids, Becca thought, her heart fluttering a little in her chest and a tiny smile blooming on her face despite the circumstances, “-and I thank you for watching over them. But I’m going to take them home now.”

“Yeah, no, sorry,” Greed shot back. “I’m not finished with them yet. Come back in a few hours.”

“Hm,” Izumi said nonchalantly. In an instant, she was throwing a punch right at Greed’s face. “Is that so?”

“Teacher, wait-” yelped Al.

The homunculus didn’t flinch or attempt to dodge. “You’re pretty impulsive,” he grunted and gave a slimy grin from beneath Izumi’s fist, then threw her arm away with a strike of his own. “And because of that, your fingers are hurting pretty bad now, aren’t they?” Some gray substance spread from his fingertips up his arms as Becca, Al, and Izumi all looked on in horror. “Now back off. I hate fighting women.”

A small motion drew Becca’s attention lower and she inhaled sharply upon seeing Izumi’s hand covered in blood from a series of scrapes on her knuckles. She shook her head indistinctly in Becca’s direction. “You’ve got a unique body there, sir.”

“Like I was telling the brats, there’s nothing you can do to leave a serious mark on me.”

“Izumi, where’s Ed?” Becca asked. “He’s the only one who has the information we need.”

“Still in South City, as far as I know,” Izumi said.

Greed frowned over at Al. “Is that your brother? I thought you said he was dead.”

“I never said that!” Al insisted, then shook his head furiously as if to clear it and warned, “Be careful, Teacher! This guy said he’s a homunculus! But he might have information that could let us get our bodies back, we need to talk to Brother!”

Glancing over at Greed through the corner of her eye, Izumi shrugged nonchalantly. “Sounds like it would be easier to beat that information out of him now rather than wait.”

“No!” Becca objected. “You’re injured, and-”

“And I’d hate to have to hit you again,” Greed added. She and Izumi both glared venomously at him, which he only responded to with a snarky smirk. “I’m an easy man to negotiate with, all I want to know is how this kid’s soul got transmuted. In exchange, I can teach the brats how to create a homunculus. Equivalent exchange, that’s how all you alchemists operate, and it seems pretty fair to me.”

“I don’t care what a kidnapper thinks is fair!” Izumi snapped. “This isn’t some little game!”

“Teacher, please, don’t argue with him!” Al pleaded, chains jangling as he surged forward like he could jump between them if things got dicey. “Please! This is our chance, and who knows when the next one is going to come along! All he wants to do is talk.”

“Yeah, and I’ll even throw in a bonus as a show of good faith.” Greed strode past Izumi, then crouched, grabbed the end of Becca’s chain, and pulled her forward as she stumbled along. The gray sheen enveloped his arm again and he reeled back, Becca flinching away until there was a dull thunk and the sound of metal clanging to the floor. She cautiously looked down as Greed stepped away, leaving Becca between him and Izumi. “Here. You can take this one now and the other one can go when his brother gets here.”

Huh?

“What?! No, no, wait! I can stay, let Al-”

“Becca,” Al said gently. “Don’t worry. I’ll be alright. Make sure Brother doesn’t cause too much property damage on the way here, okay?”

“Listen to him, kid,” urged Greed, a slimy smile spreading over his face. “We don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

Rubbing her chafed, reddened wrists, Becca swallowed, then hesitantly stepped towards Izumi. Over her shoulder, she saw Greed make a shooing motion, and, once she was within arms reach, the boys’ teacher hauled her over into a protective hold.

“Greed, was it?”

The homunculus nodded. Izumi met him with a sweet smile of her own. “You might know that us alchemists prefer to deal with creation, so I don’t like saying things like this. However, I should let you know-” Her light smile turned sinister, “-if anything happens to my loved ones, I will not hesitate to obliterate you and your entire place here. And what a shame that would be.” Greed merely leered smugly at them across the room. Izumi squeezed Becca’s arm. “Let’s go.”

---

They walked in silence past several piles of unconscious men left over from a severe ass kicking while Izumi busted her way into the Devil’s Nest, but none of them stirred as they went. When they finally crossed the threshold and the warmth of the morning sun hit her face, however, Becca realized that her clothing was still damp from the pipe Dolcetto slashed when capturing them initially. She shivered, twisting the hem of her shirt as tightly as she could around her index finger in an attempt to wring it out, but it had been too long and the fabric was too saturated and she frowned, twisting tighter.

“You alright?”

Becca jolted, tilting her head up to look at Izumi. The woman removed her shirt out from her grip, smoothing the material down with a gentle hand, then gave her a confident smile.

“Relax, Al’s right. You know Ed. He’s not going to take this lying down.”

“Mmhmm,” Becca mumbled in agreement, kicking a stray glass bottle into an alleyway. She side-eyed Izumi for a few moments before earnestly saying, “I tried to get him to wait for you, but he was so eager-”

Izumi hushed her, brushing some stray strands of Becca’s dark hair away from her face as they crossed out of the Devil’s Nest’s neighborhood and onto the main road towards the butcher shop. “It’s not your fault. I’m glad you went with him. We’ll be able to make sure Ed goes in prepared and Al will be back before dark.”

Oh, God. Becca blanched, running a hand down her face. It hadn’t even occurred to her that she’d actually have to confront Edward after leaving his brother to the dogs. 

No, no, she told herself firmly. Ed would understand. He wouldn’t be mad at her. Still, the uncomfortable ache that had already settled in her stomach didn’t abate even when she let out a long breath and tried to release her tense muscles.

“Here’s hoping,” she said quietly as they approached the storefront. 

They had just reached the front door when Izumi held up a hand and ordered, “Wait.” She peered in the window, face disbelieving, then gestured for Becca to look as well. “Is that…?”

Poking her head around the wall, Becca’s eyes widened. “Major Armstrong and… Oh, goodness.”

In the same moment, Sig noticed them from over the counter and subtly motioned towards the side of the house with his head. Izumi glowered, but Becca knew. She knew if Bradley was here, something awful might have happened-- or could happen at the drop of a hat or the wave of the old man’s hand. So she grabbed Izumi by the hand and tugged her insistently back down the steps and into the garden.

“What has Edward done now to get the damn Fuhrer knocking at my door?” she grumbled, unlocking the door and letting Becca inside. “When this is all taken care of, I’m going to-”
“When what’s all taken care of? Sig said that Al and Becca got-”

Ed, formerly sat at the dining room table, had stood up when they entered, worry evident in his posture and face as he took them both in. The pen, the same one Becca had tossed down the stairs to him yesterday (was it really only yesterday?), in his hand dropped onto the floor and he crossed the room in frenzied haste, reaching for Becca’s hand and demanding, “What happened? Where’s Al?”

Becca winced as he jostled her sore wrists. His eyes flew down to the injuries and he started to inquire again, although he was interrupted by-

“Calm down,” Izumi said sternly, “and go get the first aid kit. We’ll tell you everything, but there’s a few things you need to know before you go rushing to do something stupid.”

Ed opened his mouth, then shut it and nodded. “Right. Be right back.” He bustled up the stairs, leaving Becca and Izumi to settle down at the table. Becca rubbed at her eyes, scrunching her face up tiredly, but resisted the urge to lay her head down on the table. After all, they still had a lot of work to do before she could rest.

Chapter 23: acrasia

Notes:

happy friday my dears!

i know, i know, i'm a little late, but i'm here! the last two weeks have been Insanely busy- i finished my final high school theater production (yes i'm a theater kid if you couldn't tell from the everything about me) in the same few days that all my teachers decided to load on a shit ton of work, so i've been playing catch up all week trying to get all that ish together.

but ANYWAY

not too much other than the usual "i'm really trying to avoid hiatus but i can't guarantee anything quite yet" in terms of business, except for the fact that there's now a second pinterest board linked in the end notes if you're interested in checking that out too. this chapter is a little longer than usual as an apology for the little longer wait, and i'm very much looking forward to the next chapter because it is a interrupting canon for angst/fluff purposes even if it might end up being a little shorter (hopefully that means i'll be able to get it done on time lol). and it finally involves a return of wanderer's lullaby, aka louisa's lullaby!

on an semi-related subject, i was listening to various songs from taylor swift's discography after fearless (taylor's version) dropped last friday (yes i'm also a swiftie i'm #exposing myself here) and i was struck how her song 'mine' really exemplifies how i imagine ed and becca, so go ahead and give that a listen if you want some hints on the vibe to look forward to.

okay that was really long lmao sorry y'all!

acrasia (noun)- lack of self-control

Chapter Text

Given how much more she’d seen and heard in the hideout, most of the burden of explaining what had gone down the day before fell onto Becca’s shoulders whilst she and Izumi cleaned and bandaged the wounds they sustained from the confrontation. From the front of the store, she could hear the faint sound of Sig haggling with Fuhrer Bradley and Armstrong, but she was more focused on Ed in front of her, listening carefully, jaw clenched, fingers tapping away on the wooden table.

“I’m sorry, Ed,” she whispered after she concluded the story-- the chimeras, Greed, his claims about his true identity, his connection to the people form the Fifth Lab with the ouroboros tattoo, his strange physiology-- keeping her eyes on the gauze as she tried unsuccessfully to tighten it around her right wrist. “I should have gotten him to wait for Izumi, or for you. I just- I didn’t know if he’d wait and I didn’t want him going in alone.”

“Bex, it is not your fault.” White gloved hands invaded her line of sight. Ed guided her shaky hands away, then finished wrapping the rubbed-raw skin, tracing light lines along the white material. “Did this guy hurt you two?” he said, voice dangerously low.

“I underestimated him, I admit that,” Izumi said flippantly. “I let my guard down.”
Becca steeled herself, pulling her arms into her chest. “My wrists are sore, but they’re not broken beyond repair or anything. I’m fine.”

His eyes shifted between the two women, flicking down to their injuries before they hardened and he beamed up at them. “You two have done enough, considering this whole thing is Al and I’s problem,” he assured, grabbing his coat from where it had been thrown haphazardly across a chair. “I’ll take care of the rest.”

“Alone?” Izumi asked haughtily. “Like hell!”

“He only wanted information! I’m not going to get killed or anything!”

Student and teacher each stared each other down and Becca found herself scooting away from their combined intensity. “I could go too,” she suggested.

“Bex!” Ed protested. “You just got out of there-”

“I already told you, I’m fine!” she insisted. “And I know where to go-” She cast a glance around, gaze lingering on the door to the main shop where Armstrong and the Fuhrer were in discussion with Sig. “And quiet down, would you?” she whispered. 

Ed opened his mouth, probably to object to one of those things too, but Izumi held up a hand to stop the two teens’ bickering, surveying Ed up and down, then observing Becca’s condition in the same manner. She turned sharply on her heel, going for an apron hanging just inside the kitchen door. “Fine. Do whatever you want, just stick together and be back before dinner time with your brother.”

“Izumi,” Becca piped up. The woman tilted her head over her shoulder and Becca gulped, gesturing to the men in the main parlor. “Be careful.”

She gave a diligent glance towards the scene at the front counter, then back to Becca and Ed. “You too.”

The door fell shut behind her, leaving Ed and Becca alone in the dining room. For a moment, Becca worried that Ed might shout at her, or put up a fight about her coming along, but she turned around to see him holding both his red coat and her tan one. Keeping the same tight smile on his face, he offered hers with a strict, “Don’t jump into any fights unless you have to, okay?”

She smiled softly, throwing the coat over her shoulders. “I’ll try my hardest.”

Wordlessly, Ed inclined his head in assent and headed out onto the street. Becca slunk after him, pressing hesitantly to his side.

“I know you’re angry. It’s okay. I’m angry too.”

Ed grunted. “What gave me away?”

Becca ignored the dull burn from her wrist and picked up his hand from when it swung between them, giving it a squeeze. “You think I don’t know your fake smile from your real one?”

He let out a long sigh, shoulders relaxing, and then he squeezed back. A determined scowl took over his face as they left the garden, pushing through the crowd on the street with ease. “We’re bringing Al home. Where do we go?”

Becca sped ahead so she could lead the way. “Follow me, and get ready for a fight.”

---

It really was a shame that barely a few hours had passed since Izumi kicked all the doors in the homunculus’ hideout off their hinges since it seemed like it might do Ed some good to boot a couple doors of his own down, if only to blow off a little bit of steam before facing down Greed.

“Where’s this Greed fucker?” he demanded loudly. “Where’s my brother?”

Becca’s eyes fell on a familiar stretch of wall and she switched trajectories suddenly, ordering, “This way! They had me in that closet, which means Al is right-” 

Oh, shit, the door is gone, she remembered, suddenly finding herself right back where she’d begun the day in the dark backroom bar.

“-Here,” she trailed off. Everyone in the room turned to look at her and Ed. Becca’s mouth went dry. “Hello again.”

“Who would have thought you could get kidnapped?” Ed said, barging in with voice deceptively light, hiding the fury Becca knew lurked just beneath the surface. She could see it in his shaky, balled fists, barely flushed cheeks, and tight smirk directed right over Al’s head at the dark haired homunculus.

Joints in Al’s body creaked as he winced upon seeing them. “Sorry, Brother.”

“And what is with you two apologizing for stupid things today?” he groaned, thumbing between a shamefaced Becca and somehow equally sheepish looking Alphonse.

“You must be Edward Elric,” Greed greeted.

“And you’re the homunculus,” Ed stated icily, taking in his appearance. “You’re for real?” he checked in with Becca, who nodded.

“No need to trust your little girlfriend blindly,” Greed said. “I never lie. You need a demonstration?”

On cue, Roa raised his hammer up behind him again and Becca interjected, “No, no one needs another demonstration, thank you. We just want Al back.”

“And any information that could help us get our bodies back!” Al insisted fervently. “Soul transmutation for who knows how many leads, Brother! You have to!”

Greed rubbed his hands together, eagerness shining in his eyes. “Although I admittedly don’t understand why you’re trying to get your old, breakable body back-” Ed tensed, visibly irritated at Greed’s flippant attitude, “-the fact is that this is probably the fairest deal you’ll get, kid.”

“The fairest deal?” Ed growled. He stepped forward, taking a deep breath, and Becca’s hands leapt to her ears in advance of the shouting she knew was coming.

“What the hell are you on, thinking you’ll get a fair deal from me, you bastards? You don’t know anything about this situation, what the reality of that body means for him and his life! How dare you even think about replicating his circumstances, and you want to use me to do it? You kidnap my brother, you hurt my teacher and my best friend, and you still have the audacity to demand to trade secrets with me?”

And it did, in full force-- slowly increasing in volume but never dropping in intensity.

“No, no, no! I don’t see any reason to share a periodic table with slime like you, let alone notes on soul transmutation! I’m going to crush you creeps and force anything I want to know out of you, but you scumbags won’t be getting a shred of guidance from me in return, you hear me?!”

Slowly, Becca lowered her hands and crossed her arms over her chest, a silent show of support, as the others in the room blinked. Greed raised his hand into a reluctant slow clap.

Dolcetto sighed, grabbing the hilt of his blade. “So we’re roughing up the kids again?”

“Don’t kill either of ‘em,” Greed said with a wave of his hand.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Dolcetto grumbled. “But a few broken bones never killed anyone.” 

He drew his sword and charged at them, but little did he know, Becca had prepped Ed for this on the walk over, and both of them weren’t exactly newbies to opponents with swords.

And, Becca noted as she leapt backwards and out of Dolcetto’s reach, this guy was significantly slower than the Slicer brothers had been- either one of them. However, true to form, while Becca dodged and paused to consider her next move, Ed actually charged right back, hopping up and over the blade and cracking his left, boot clad but still automail, foot into Dolcetto’s temple, the same spot Al had punched him just the day before, leaving a bruise to prove it. Becca winced in sympathy as the man tumbled backwards and collapsed to his knees, but she couldn’t let that distract her. There were still more opponents readying their weapons on the outskirts of this little confrontation.

Grasping the loose sleeve of his coat, Becca pulled Ed back so they were side by side in mirrored defensive positions for attacks that, as it turned out, wouldn’t wind up coming.

For Greed put his hand up, freezing his minions in place, and lowly ordered, “Roa, get the armored kid out of here. Alward’s right, taking him apart would be way easier at this point.”

Ed blanched. “Huh?”

“Go ahead and drag Dolcetto out with you,” he continued through Ed’s aggrieved sputtering. “Patch him up while you wait for me, and then we’ll start on the boy after I’m done with these two punks.”

“Hey, wait, no!” Becca cried out as Roa nodded, then hoisted Al onto one shoulder and Dolcetto onto the other. The other men around them filed out of the room as well. “That was not the plan-!”

“I’m not letting you take him again!” roared Ed, transmuting his arm into a blade and rushing the large man, and, Becca noticed, leaving his side totally open to-

She lunged forward, shoved Ed forward and out of the way, only to hear a dull thump when Greed’s now hardened hand came down on her shoulder rather than Ed’s arm. A quick glance at the offending limb and she could see that her shoulder, while throbbing with dull pain, wasn’t bloody, meaning that Greed’s… mutation, whatever it was, wasn’t any type of blade. At most, it was a protective coating, a shield. 

“Oh, I hate fighting girls,” he complained, twisting his arm and flinging her away with ease.

“Get used to it,” Becca grunted. At the very least, it appeared her move had surprised the homunculus, who’d frozen, even if he still had that stupid smarmy look on his face. She  stumbled slightly, but straightened right back up and moved as fast as she could to try and get into close combat with Greed while they had him in this tiny room. Even with her smaller size, she knew, crowding someone may very well freak them out enough that they get messy. She knew it wasn’t likely, but it had to be worth a shot.

Her focus fully on Greed, she barely heard the door slam and lock, but she did hear Ed’s scream of rage loud and clear, right before he leapt over her to get his hands on him. The strange gray coating crawled up his forearms as Ed grabbed on and clung, tight , with one hand, slinging punches with the other. 

“Get back, Bex!” he called. “My automail can take this guy, you go on defense!”

Becca obeyed, rolling her undoubtedly bruising shoulder as much as she could before touching her hands together and bending down to transmute pillar after pillar of the stone floor, sensing and manipulating each individual atom. Ed was shouting- he always shouted during fights- and, in a normal fight against a normal opponent, he’d have made significant progress. Greed, evidently, wasn’t normal, but Becca could see him tiring out, getting sloppier, leaving openings. Ed skirted past the homunculus, eyes meeting Becca’s and flicking down towards Greed’s legs. They were still uncovered by whatever defensive substance over his arms and therefore mostly left defenseless. She glanced up and inclined her head in acknowledgement of his plan, gearing up for a large transmutation.

As one, Ed dropped down and swung a leg out to knock Greed’s out from under him in the same moment that Becca touched her hands together, then one to the ground once more and struck his back as he fell, sending him flying into the back wall.

He slumped to the ground with a weak groan.

Becca approached Ed, resting her hand on his tensed up shoulder. She traced circles into his black jacket, taking in the trickle of blood running down his face from his hairline. A brief thought of That’s not good trailed through her mind and she urged, “That would have broken something serious in the normal person. I think he’s down for the count.”

“Right. Let’s go find-,” he started, turning swiftly on his heel, only to be cut off by Greed’s low laughter.

The teenagers' heads swivelled back to the man now sitting up and rubbing at the back of his neck like it was sore, not shattered, Becca’s mouth falling open without her permission.

“Broken something?” he asked mockingly, “No, no, no, kiddies, that would have killed a normal person.” He twisted back and forth a few times, several joints popping in wake of the movement, and a sharp grin stretched across his face. “Lucky for you, I’m not normal. But you understand that already, didn’t you?”

“You’re built pretty tough,” Ed allowed, swiping a hand across his sweaty forehead.

“I wouldn’t say that,” Greed said lightly as he wiped away a bit of blood from his own head. “Really, my body is made up of the same components as yours in material terms. I just have quicker healing capabilities-”

“More like regeneration,” Becca scoffed.

“-As well as my Ultimate Shield,” Greed continued over her. He raised his arm, the gray seeping further up to encase his shoulder, fingertips sharpening to claws. “I assume you’ve figured it out by now, but I can spell it out just in case: there’s nothing you brats can do that’ll leave a scratch on me. You two can’t beat me. It would be better to just give in and take the deal.”

“No way in hell,” Ed snapped.

Greed hummed. Suddenly, his gaze switched from Ed’s face to trace over Becca’s and he moved forward an almost imperceptible amount. Before Becca’s could blink, Ed moved as well, scooting over to put himself in between him and her.

“Heh. I know you took some hard hits, kid, but you’re still so controlled by your emotions- your…” Greed inhaled, the air whistling quietly through his teeth, “attachments. Honestly, you’re the one with the head injury and you’re still stupidly stepping in for her and refusing to just give in, risking losing both more information to solve your little problem and get your brother-”

“Don’t talk about Al!” Ed shouted, the sound echoing in the now nearly empty room. He took another step towards Greed, heedless of Becca’s hand still barely gripping his sleeve.

“Still not backing down, huh? Fine.” The homunculus drew himself up to his full height, cracking his neck. “I really didn’t want to have to do this because, well, I think I’m quite handsome and I don’t like to cover that up. But for you two, I’ll make an exception.”

The dark matter leaked from his arms up his torso and neck, into his chest, and Becca was sure that if he removed his shoes, it would extend down to his feet as well. His shoulders straightened out as it ran up his face, obscuring the human visage and replacing it with sharp white eyes and teeth. As Greed loomed over them, she shot Ed an anxious look, only to be met with a stony, determined golden one in return. Becca forced herself to swallow any nerves she could and raised her fists.

As one, they leapt back into the fight.

--

Probably predictably, they got their asses handed to them. Becca coughed after Greed tossed her easily into a table, sending both wood and girl crashing to the ground, then dragged herself back up and glared across the room at where Ed had locked the homunculus in grappled combat. Breaths heaving through her chest, she forced herself to take a step back and contemplate.

At least we can take this as a baseline of fighting one of the the ouroboros gang at full strength, she told herself, stalking around to scope out any possible weak points. And the way this is going, Ed and I probably did get off easy being injured with those other guys-

A loud crack shook her out of her thoughts, then another, smaller clatter as Ed flew past her then slid down the wall, closely followed by the blade from his automail, which had been wrenched off and then thrown after him. A second later, Becca registered that the crack must have been his head hitting the wall and cried out, rushing to his side.

“Ed, Ed, Ed,” she muttered, swiping her sleeve across the slow line of blood dripping down his forehead. He just groaned. Clinging for something to sooth her racing heart, Becca brushed his hair back and noted that his eyes were moving beneath their lids, so he was still conscious. If he’d remain that way was, admittedly, questionable, but he hadn’t given in yet, squirming as she just hoisted his torso into her lap to gently tap on his cheek, whispering his name again and again.

“You two ready to give in and tell me how to transmute a soul?”

Becca whipped her head up to bare her teeth up at the cocky homunculus as he strolled towards them. “We’re not done.”

“Looks to me like you are,” Greed cooed mockingly, crouching down to their level. “Face it, cutie. You can’t defeat me, no matter how many times you try.”

“You can’t be indestructible,” Becca spat. “ Nothing is indestructible. You have to have a weakness.”

Ed’s insistent twisting stilled for just a moment, and then he was reaching back, pushing against Becca’s leg to sit up, the other hand coming up to rub his head.

“Don’t, just stay down, I can-”

“No, my automail-” he grunted, “-can take it. What needs to be done. Back up. I can do this.”
“‘What needs to be done’?” she repeated, confused, pressing down on his shoulders as he struggled to get up. “No, Edward, what are you talking about? Talk to me, explain-”

Greed had stopped, leaning over them, apparently intrigued. “Yeah, kid, explain,” he requested lightly. “You might act like an idiot, but you’ve obviously got some good ideas.”

“Now that there’s not blood rushing to my head, my thoughts have cleared up a little,” Ed said with a harsh glare up at Greed as he firmly pushed himself back off the floor and to his feet, “and I realized Becca’s right. You said you were made of the same stuff as humans, right?”

Without further warning, he lurched forward, transmutation energy crackling as he practically threw himself onto his opponent. Becca shouted instinctively, but the sound cut itself off in her throat as the combatants fists clashed. Ed’s automail creaked in protest when he drew back, shaking the limb gently. It wasn’t in good shape; however, Winry’s design held up and it continued to move. In contrast, the gray matter obscuring Greed’s hand had split and receded, red light swarming around as the damage slowly healed itself. He panted, a challenging glint shifting in his eyes as Ed beckoned him forward again.

Sensing the beginnings of a plan, even if she couldn’t quite connect the dots yet, Becca fell into her usual pattern: trust Ed’s lead until proven wrong (and she hadn’t been proven wrong yet). She gave him the ground he usually needed in fights and touched her own hands together so she’d be ready to attack when the opportunity arose.

And arise it did. Whatever Ed was thinking, now that he had his feet under him, the tide turned quickly. As he hammered away at Greed’s protective layer, he easily knocked him around as well. Becca swooped in to aid with transmutations of her own, creating spikes and messing with the evenness of the floor to keep him off balance whilst carefully avoiding wherever Ed stepped. In the same second Greed collapsed to the ground, Ed and Becca each transmuted a large spike, piercing his armor and sending the homunculus spiraling as he rolled up protectively around his injured gut.

“What the hell did you brats do to my shield?” he barked, wincing. “How-”

“You can’t make something out of nothing,” Ed cut him off. “That’s not just impossible, that’s a rule of the universe. In order for your shield to form, the material has to already be present in your body. And if your chemical components are the same as us regular humans, then there’s really only one that could be changed to something this strong and durable. Lucky for you, it makes up a third of the average human.”

“Carbon,” Becca breathed, then groaned, facepalming. “This whole time, it was just carbon? Of course, when you spell it out like that it makes perfect sense.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?!”

“Depending on the bonds between the atom, carbon can be as easy to snap as the graphite in pencils or as tough as diamonds,” Ed explained. He wiped away a slightly concerning amount of blood from his forehead (dammit, was the cut from the Fifth Lab open again? They’d both thought it had healed over rather quickly) and took another fighting stance, shoulders shaking a minute amount with the continuous stress on them.

Although she was sure Greed didn’t notice, too busy staring up at him incredulously for his deduction, Becca did. He had to be running on pure adrenaline by now- hell, she was just barely staying on her feet and all she’d done was basically sitting in one place all night and get thrown around some. Her injuries hurt, yes, but they were minor. For Ed’s sake, they needed to get out of there ASAP, which she knew wouldn’t happen until they’d pummelled Greed to his satisfaction and tracked Al down. Quick as a whip, she was stepping into the limelight herself, taking a spot at Ed’s side and raising her fists. “As long as we know the material, the intermolecular bonds are easy to break and rearrange with alchemy.”

“I see. Obviously. How could I not realize?” Greed said flatly, drawing himself up to his full height again. “Oh well.” The hyper sharpened white teeth caught the low light as he smirked down at them. He stepped forward, fist reeling back in preparation for a punch. “It took you too long to figure that out, so you’re too injured to keep this up much longer. Having a weakness makes fighting all the more fun, but I’m still just going to keep regenerating-”

As his arm stretched out, Becca noticed a few bits of pink among the dark gray. She lunged forward, one bony elbow crashing into what she could now see was exposed muscle. The homunculus grunted in pain and stumbled to the side, leaving the teens with a few seconds to think.

Gross as that might have been if Becca was paying more attention to the ew factor and less on trying to get out alive, the only things that ran across her mind was the fact that Greed hadn’t finished regenerating that spot yet-- the spot where the spike she’d transmuted had impaled him moments before-- and the lack of shield. It would be stupid to charge in without a full shield up if he was able, and, though he was pompous and crude, Greed hadn’t shown himself to be stupid, that meant one thing:

“You can’t regenerate and use your shield at the same time, can you?” she wondered aloud.

Greed started, then chuckled darkly. “So you’re both smart little hellions, huh?” He rolled his shoulders back with a light sigh. “I do like you two,” he said insistently. “I like your spunk. But this is just a bad match up for me, so I gotta get going.”

Like it was the simplest thing in the world, he bypassed them completely, headed for the open door into the hallway.

“Wha- hey!” Ed protested.

“Sorry, kids,” Greed said, shooting them a sneer over his shoulder. “Maybe we’ll chat again sometime.”

Ed reached out to try and grab him, pull him back, but was cut off by a few sets of unknown footsteps thundering down the hall. All three of them halted in their tracks, turning towards the door. Becca’s mind conjured up a threatening parade of Greed’s allies returning to aid their master, an endeavor that, should Greed choose to initiate, would almost surely succeed since her and Ed were both running on fumes.

None of them were prepared for when the navy blue of military uniforms appeared around the entrance, nor when the officers themselves started shouting. Becca swore. She’d known they should have been quieter, what with the Fuhrer at the butcher shop, but she hadn’t thought they’d been followed . Were they really so distracted that they didn’t notice a tail?

“We found the kids!”

Their hollers echoed down the hall, the message passed along as a group flooded into the small room. Hands reached for Becca and Ed, tugging at their clothes, tugging them backwards, tugging them apart. 

“Let go! I was talking to him, get off of me! We don’t need your help!” Ed yelled in protest. Becca fought against the men holding her back until there were several on her, their bodies pressing too tightly against hers as they tackled her down to the ground.

“The kids are secure!” another officer called. “Open fire!”

“No!” Ed and Becca screamed in unison as all but the few soldiers left with the unfortunate job of holding them down cocked their weapons and started firing in a hail of bullets. 

Logically, she knew that the gunfire wouldn’t hurt Greed. The important thing, though, was that they were making progress-- progress that had to be getting chipped away at with every hit. Becca wrenched her hands over her ears once more against the noise, but her legs didn’t stop kicking against the men around her as she tried to demand, “Stop it! We need him to find Al, we had him under control!”

“Quit fighting!” one man barked in her ear. “We’re here to help!”

Eventually, someone called the firing squad off, sounding bewildered, with, “He’s gone!” The rough, calloused grips on Becca loosened just enough that she was able to push them off and bolt up. A few feet away Ed fought his own captors to get onto his knees. A quick look around proved the leader right. Greed had disappeared.

Ed ran a hand through his hair, fist clenching, and groaned, “Dammit!”

“Edward, stop that,” Becca muttered, sliding to his side at once. She reached up and coaxed his fingers out of their death grip. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”

“Fuck, I just-” He sighed heavily as she smoothed his hair back down. “It’s so frustrating and Al’s still-”

“Al’s safe,” Becca said. “They aren’t going to hurt him. We’ll just have to track him down. Greed’ll probably be with him and we can-”

All of a sudden, he sat up ramrod straight, eyes wide like he was seeing her for the first time. “You said you wouldn’t jump into a fight with him.”

“Huh?”

“When we were walking here, you promise you wouldn’t jump into a fight because you were hurt.”

Becca raised a questioning eyebrow in his direction. “I promised I’d try,” she corrected, “because you wanted me to.”

Her partner scoffed, but Becca could hear the undertone of fondness as he reached over and touched the gauze he’d wrapped around her wrists, fingers just barely rubbing over the tough material.

“It held up fine,” Becca assured him. She rotated her wrist in order to gently grasp his hand. “ I held up fine. I promise. And Al’s fine around here somewhere.” She sat back, leaning on her elbows. “One good thing about these guys being here, I guess. As long as he’s still within their area, they’ll find him.”

Finally relaxing a miniscule amount, Ed mimicked her position and tilted back to rest on a large portable radio. “How do you think they found us?” he wondered aloud.

“I assumed they had to have followed us,” Becca said. “I suppose we could have just missed them.” She hummed thoughtfully, absentmindedly rubbing the quicksilver pendant on its chain around her neck. “Otherwise, someone would have just had to have known where to come. Izumi wouldn’t have told them anything, not this soon, right?”

Ed made a face. “No, she wouldn’t have willingly cooperated with the government, you’re right. And the Fuhrer- the whole reason he was here was because he followed me from South City. Apparently Armstrong is good at sneaking around.” Becca was going to ask how exactly that was possible, but Ed anticipated the question and shrugged, giving an exhausted, “I don’t know.”

The radio Ed was leaned up against crackled to life and a man announced, “The armor has been located. The boy is still missing.”

Ed’s head shot up. Becca sat up straight, scooting closer to the speaker, but it was silent. Peering around to make sure no one was watching them, she picked up the telephone-like receiver and said, “Where is the armor? Relative to the initial attack location?”

The same voice rattled off a simple set of directions and Ed was off like a rocket. Becca got up a little slower with the aching in her wrists. Luckily for her, Ed didn’t make it far. While they’d been mostly left alone in favor of allowing more men to join the search for the homunculus, there was still a soldier left to guard the door who solemnly refused to allow him through.

“First Lieutenant Wagner said we were to keep you here-”

“That’s great for him, but I really don’t give a-”
“Hey, hi, excuse me,” Becca interjected, putting herself between Ed and the soldier. “You said a first lieutenant gave you those orders?”

“Uh- yes, ma’am.”

“And do you know who we are?”

“Yes, ma’am. You two are State Alchemists.”

“Who hold the rank equivalent to major, yes?”

The man paled. “Um… yes, ma’am, they do. I mean, you do.”

Ed grinned evilly, catching onto what she was implying beside her. “So these two majors are ordering you to let us through. Understood?”

Stepping aside, the soldier swallowed thickly and answered, “Yes, sir.”

“Nice one,” Ed said under his breath as they hustled down the hall.

Becca beamed over at him. “Al’s waiting for us.”

---

“Oh, no,” Becca whispered, jogging up to the scene on the edge of a rushing stream of sewer water.

“Al! Hey, Alphonse!”

Armstrong, knelt in front of Al’s open chest, moved aside quickly to allow Ed the closest spot to his brother. His voice was thick when he spoke. “I’m very sorry, Edward Elric. He’s not… responsive at this time.”

“What happened?” he demanded frantically.

“There was a woman, controlling him from inside. She forced him to attack the Fuhrer and he- he dispatched her. I think that shocked him.” The major gestured vaguely to a lumpy sheet a few feet away and remorsefully said, “I sent the other men away before I opened him up and cleaned as best as I could, but I didn’t want to risk too much until you were able to-”

Metal clanged on metal as Ed cut him off, banging on Al’s helmet and calling his name a few more times. The armor remained unmoving, but the blood seal seemed intact, so Becca bent down next to him, rubbing his back. “Armstrong’s probably right, he must have just been shocked. I- nothing like this has ever happened to him before. He’s okay.” He has to be okay.

Ed frowned, sitting back a bit and crossing his arms, tapping his finger anxiously. “I- yeah. That’s something he can do.”

Quick to grasp the rest of their surroundings, Becca eyed the sheet covering what was clearly a body- Martel, her mind supplied. Her name was Martel - and winced. “The Fuhrer did that? He’s here?”

“He’d heard there may be trouble here,” Armstrong supplied.

Becca frowned. “Weird…”

“Shh, shh!” Ed said suddenly, shooting forward again. “I just saw him twitch! Al! Al, can you hear me? Are you okay?”

The suit of armor creaked in protest and Al let out a tiny groan as he slowly raised one arm to touch his head. “...Brother?” he said in a small voice. He looked around and mumbled, “Becca? Major Armstrong? Wha- what happened? Where is-?” The red lights in his visor flared and his hand flew to his empty chest cavity.

“Al,” Becca said, kneeling down at Ed’s side. “She- she’s over there. Armstrong pulled her out. I- I’m so sorry.”

For a moment, Al froze, and then he crumpled. Even expressionless, Becca could see his walls come down as he listlessly whimpered, “I couldn’t save her…”, bringing his knees to his chest and his hands up to his face. His body shook, Becca realized, with tears that he couldn’t actually cry. A pang of helplessness spiked through her heart and she wrapped her arms around as much of him as she could, heedless of any blood.

“It’s not your fault, Al,” Ed assured him, joining the embrace without hesitation. “Let’s just… let’s just go home, okay? Teacher wanted us back before dinner.”

“Okay,” Al agreed shakily, pulling back to get to his feet. “Can we put my chestplate back on before we go?”

Ed and Becca shared worried glances and Ed said, “Of course. Let me grab it.”

“Wait just a moment,” a deep voice said from just outside the doorway. Becca stiffened, turning on her heel as Bradley, sans long, official coat with his traditional sword on full display at his side, strode down the concrete path towards them. For once, his face wasn’t covered in a jolly smile. Hell, he seemed even more stone-faced than Becca had ever seen him, including when he killed MacDougal several months ago. She wiped any softness from her face, jaw clenching in response to him shooting a stern look at her spot on the floor. “There’s something I need to ask these three.”

“Sir?” Armstrong questioned.

“The man behind this whole charade, the one called Greed,” Bradley said. “Did you exchange any information with him? Or gain any information from him?”

Ed’s brow furrowed. “Nothing that the military would be interested in,” he responded.

“That’s not what I asked,” the Fuhrer said darkly. His sword glinted as he shifted it slightly, raising the point towards them. The blade passed in front of Becca’s nose and he aimed it straight at Ed. “If you made any type of deal or obtained any details about him, I will execute all of you right here.”

Becca’s eyes widened.

Lie, she thought as hard as she could, staring at Ed and willing him to keep his tough facade for just a few moments longer. Please, please, please, he’ll do it, he’ll kill you. Just lie, please.

The blonde grit his teeth, but grunted out a quiet, “No, sir. I’m not known for talking to my enemies. Any other questions?”

“Oh, certainly,” he said, a small smirk quirking up one side of his mouth even as he lowered his sword. “Mostly pertaining to your missing limbs and your brother’s body.”

Ed’s frown deepened and, before he could say something stupid, Becca interjected with a soft, “Sir?”

She shivered when he took her in, cold gaze reminding her only of when he’d revealed the true terms of her debt. The dark eye’s deep, unfeeling pool made her skin crawl and she unconsciously moved back in an effort to get him to just stop looking at her.

A hardy laugh rippled through the air, jolting all of them. “But that’s for another day,” Bradley trilled, persona flipping abruptly once more as he sheathed his sword. He pivoted around and waved over his shoulder with his now free hand. “Make sure you take care of each other, alright?”

His steps echoed down the caverns of the sewers as he left right up until a heavy door slammed somewhere beyond their line of sight.

---

For better or for worse, they didn’t have much free time to stew on the Fuhrer’s visit, nor did they feel like they needed to since he apparently skipped town with Armstrong almost as soon as he could, both men gone by the time they managed to put Al back together satisfactorily. Apparently, it had been hours, and darkness had fallen.

Izumi, cross-armed and stone-faced, waited outside the shop for them. She opened her mouth, presumably to shout at them, but, upon seeing their still shell-shocked faces, she just heaved a heavy sigh and embraced each of them in turn, waiting until they let go to move onto the next teen. She patted them on their cheeks, then murmured, “Go ahead and clean up before supper. I’ll bring you some soap and water.”

“Right,” Ed agreed, shepherding Al and Becca along the side of the house to the garden.

Piece by piece, they dismantled Al’s body in silence, making sure to scrub and reattach one piece before taking off another. For a while, Becca immersed herself in the repetitive, soothing motion of sponging off any trace of blood from the metal, at least until Ed grabbed the last part-- his chestplate-- and offered half to Becca for her to take care of. She shot him a half smile before polishing it off and handing it back to Al. 

“That’s everything, right?” Ed asked, his scratchy voice the only indication for how long they’d been working. Al, staring up at the stars, didn’t respond until Ed cleared his throat and hesitantly prompted, “Al?”

The armor startled. “Ah! Sorry, Brother. I was just… thinking.”

“Whatever happened down there, it wasn’t your fault, Al,” Becca said as gently as she could. “We’re just glad to have you back safe and sound.”

“Oh, no, not- not anything like that, don’t worry,” Al assured. “Just… when it happened- when Bradley” He looked over at them, visibly wincing, “you know. I- I regained all my memories from that place. I think it was something with my blood seal.”

Becca blinked, surprised, and swallowed. “From that big gate?” she clarified.

“Uh-huh.”

“Well, that’s-” Ed started, then paused and reconsidered. “How was it?”

Al chuckled, the sound echoing through his body. “Pretty much how you and Teacher said it would be. Like…” He waved his arms around nonsensically, which Becca supposed had to mean something with how Ed nodded along with the reaction. Al shrugged. “Weird. But I still didn’t see anything about human transmutation.”

As much as Becca could see him try to hide his disappointment, it still flew briefly across Ed’s face with a short, thoughtful hum.

“So it’s like what you told Fuhrer Bradley,” Al said, one leg kicking out petulantly to knock against a loose stone. “We didn’t gain any new information after all.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Becca said. “We know what those people in the Fifth Lab are, and that a homunculus is possible to make. Maybe we could research that a little further and find something along that track?”

“No,” Ed opposed firmly. “You remember how Bradley acted back in Central City about those guys with the ouroboros tattoos? He wanted to catch them back then, right?”

“Yes?”

“I think so?”

Eyes glinting in the low light from the kitchen wind, biting his lip, Ed asked, “Then why did he slaughter Greed? And all his followers? The MPs were saying that no one made it out of that bar. So-”

“Why wouldn’t he take a couple of them captive to find the others?” Becca breathed. “You’re right that doesn’t make sense.”

“And I’m not trying to get kicked out of the military for sticking my nose where they don’t want me to quite yet,” he continued, shrugging. “There’s gotta be more information we can use somewhere in one of those damn libraries-” He nudged Becca’s side, “-and we can’t just leave you behind, right?”
She laughed under her breath, about to reply with a flippant, “You’d better not,” though she only had only gotten through the first word when Ed’s stomach growled and cut her off, sending her silent for a second before setting off a louder round.

Ed frowned, growling, “You know what, I take that back-”

“Hey, no, wait-!” 

A wave of hunger rolled through Becca’s gut as a savory scent wafted out from the shop and she inhaled deeply, unable to keep a content, close-eyed smile off her face. When she opened her eyes, she was met with the sight of Ed staring right at her, at least until he registered that she was looking back and his cheeks lit up pink. He grabbed her by the arm, dragging her back inside whilst grumbling, “You didn’t even eat anything when you came home earlier, did you? That means you haven’t had a meal since yesterday morning, stupid.”

Becca paused. “I- yeah, I guess you’re right.” She grinned fondly. “Thanks for looking out for me.”

If possible, Becca could have seen his cheeks flare even pinker. Behind them, she heard Al burst out in laughter of his own as he brought up their little train trooped into the kitchen, and Ed snapped, “Shut it, Al! Teacher, is dinner almost ready? We’re hungry!”

“Watch your mouth, brat!” Izumi retorted sharply from the stove. “If you’re so hungry, you can come finish it!”

“Oh, God, don’t you want it to be edible?” Becca teased, hopping up on the kitchen island.

“Bex!”

“Off of my counter!”

“Yes, ma’am!” 

Chapter 24: cafuné

Notes:

happy early thursday, my dears!

i'm a lil nervous to give you this chapter, firstly because it's a little shorter than usual, and secondly on account that it's basically me going off the rails and indulging literally no one but myself. no one asked for this. but i have ap tests starting next week so i've been doing a fuck ton of prep work both for my actual test and so i can hopefully have the next chapter out on schedule.

we ARE approaching one of my favorite arcs that i've pre-planned after rush valley pt. 2. let's just say bex has a lot going on during the ross rescue arc.

wish me luck on all my tests (and graduation in one freaking month how weird is that?) and hopefully you don't mind a chapter of straight up, sweet fluff.

ALSO! if you haven't had the chance to go listen to the actual adriana figueroa 'masterpiece still in the making' song, i highly recommend it since it's... let's say references at the end of this chapter.

cafuné (noun)- running your hands through the hair of someone you love

Chapter Text

A few days passed without incident, mostly spent attempting to regain some sense of normalcy. Falling back into a pattern of chores, errands, and training slowly built itself back up, only to come crashing down one overcast morning because, as always, timing had never been their group’s strong suit.

The previous day, specifically right before bed, the Elrics had swung rather suddenly into a low mood. Becca had noticed, of course, but couldn’t pinpoint a trigger and, when she prompted them whilst tucking themselves in for the night, both boys merely shrugged the concern off and opted to flick the light off then and there, evidently signalling the end of that conversation.

Al’s absence was the first sign that something was off. Not just his absence from the room, Becca discovered, although it was strange to wake up without his familiar silhouette sat criss-crossed near the wall, but absent from the shop in its entirety. Wrapped in her knitted cardigan pajamas and the blue blanket Izumi had gifted her, Becca padded down the stairs, leaving Ed still snoring softly in his bed in favor of searching for the missing armored teen, only to comb over each of the living spaces and find nothing.

Well, she figured, hesitantly sticking her head into the butcher’s industrial kitchen, I suppose he could be helping with the shop.

He wasn’t there either, but at least both Curtises were.

“Morning,” Sig grunted as he heaved a large slab of meat onto his shoulder.

“Good morning,” Becca replied. 

She glanced around as subtly as she could-- not subtly enough, though, since Izumi forced a smile and said, “Al left for a walk a little while ago. He seemed… off, but he said he was fine when I asked.”

“You think that’s a good idea?” she asked. “After all the Greed stuff a few days ago-”

However, Izumi twisted around to give her a deadpan look and put her anxieties to firmly to bed. “I think those people were probably the only people outside of myself who could actually take him down.”

Still scowling a bit, Becca nodded thoughtfully and flicked on the sink faucet, washing her hands before grabbing a knife and a few pieces of fruit to start preparing some sort of breakfast for this very strange morning. As she let her thoughts drift during the simple task, she vaguely registered the calendar hung on the back wall. Then her eyes flew back to the current date, realization dawning with a pit in her stomach.

October 3rd.

“Oh,” she said in a small voice.

Both adults paused in their preparations to look over at her. “What?” Izumi checked in.

“Ed told me about it. Before they left Resembool to restore their bodies, they burned their house to the ground as a- a sign of finality, I guess,” Becca explained, “on October 3rd- God, it’d have to be three years ago now…”

“Do they always act like this?” Izumi asked, a hint of concern bleeding through her tough exterior.

“I- I’m not sure,” Becca fumbled as she tried to remember the year before. “Last October, we- we were travelling and there were days-, well, we all had down days. I can’t remember any particularly bad ones, but I didn’t know about the significance of the date-”

Becca could feel herself spiraling, rambling, (how hadn’t she noticed last year, what if they were suffering and she’d ignored them, what if-) until Sig put a heavy hand on her shoulder. “Perhaps it’s just this year,” he suggested, his low, rational tone calming her down, if only a little. “All three of you have been having a rough go of it lately, yeah? So this time around, they might just already be under more stress than usual and it’s making today worse than usual.”

“I- um- yeah,” she stuttered, taking a long breath. “Yeah, okay.” She screwed her focus back onto the fruit she was cutting, then pondered aloud, “Is- do you think there’s anything we could do?”

“You know those boys,” Izumi said with a fond roll of her eyes. “They won’t want to bother any of us, and they won’t want to be pushed. We’ll just show them that we’re around. If they come to us, we’ll be there.” Spinning her knife around her fingers a few times before diving into chopping a few slices of meat, Izumi begrudgingly said, “Now, I hate to keep giving you three days off since those brats don’t keep up with proper training when they’re not here, but if Ed asks, you’re still recovering from the Devil’s Nest and this is your rest day, understand?”

A smile cracked over Becca’s face as she placed her spoils on a plate and moving over to the stove to boil water for tea and coffee. “I’ll be sure to let him know.”

---

Mugs in hand, Becca softly called out, “Ed? Are you-”

The bedroom door flew open, revealing a disheveled, wide-eyed Ed blinking in the low morning light. He sucked in a long breath at the sight of her, then aborted the action when he saw she noticed it. “Hey,” he said quickly, conspiratorially. “Where were you? Where’s Al? I woke up and you were-”

He cut himself off, guilt clouding his face. Becca smiled tightly and offered the hot coffee, no milk with two sugars, just as he liked it, then informed him, “I was helping Izumi and Sig with breakfast. They said Al’s gone for a walk.”

Horribly listless, Ed accepted the drink and stepped aside to allow Becca into the bedroom. He trodded back to his bed, setting his coffee on the bedside table before flopping onto the mattress. The bedding had been strewn around and the increasingly familiar image of him thrashing around in the throes of a nightmare flashed through her mind. Becca, on the other hand, busied herself by tidying up her space and, when there wasn’t anything left to fiddle with-

“I know what today is, Ed,” she reminded, determinedly not looking over at him. If he thought she would make him talk, make him vulnerable, he’d clam up. Keeping her tone even was imperative if she didn’t want to scare him off, she rationalized.

The only indication that Ed had even heard her was a sharp intake of breath from his side of the room.

Becca sighed, twirling a strand of hair around her pointer finger. “How about we go clean our wounds, yeah? Your stitches looked like they were starting to dissolve yesterday.”

---

The stab wound on her side was easy enough to take care of-- it was shallow and she’d gotten lucky back in Lab 5, all things considered. Definitely going to leave a scar, but it didn’t require much extra care outside of what could be taken care of during a normal shower and switching the bandage often enough to avoid infection. Ed’s wounds stretching over his abdomen, on the other hand?

Aside from the ongoing internal healing going on that Becca only remembered existed after the adrenaline from the Devil’s Nest finally ran out and he abruptly went as pale as a ghost and vomited up his dinner the night they returned from the bar, he had the additional issue of post-surgery stitches to make her worry about, since he evidently didn’t do it himself.

Perched on a small footstool near the edge of the tub, keeping her head low, Becca rolled up the extra bandage, sanitized her hands, and asked, “You wanna take your shirt off?”

She didn’t get a reply from Ed, so she just bit her lip and allowed a small, “Okay. Just roll it up for me.”

“Bex-” he started, though it sounded more like an awkward croak, then swallowed thickly and just obeyed, hoisting the hem of his shirt up around his neck, obscuring his face, as Becca worked up a soapy lather from the standard brand bar the Curtises kept on the sink on a wet rag and started to wipe around the stitches. Absentmindedly, she began to hum, familiar notes floating into the otherwise silent bathroom air until she pressed a little too hard on accident and Ed hissed in pain.

“Sorry,” she murmured. “Almost done.”

“‘S okay.”

Becca kept quiet as she went on, rinsing the bubbles off of the sutures with soothing, cool water with as delicate a touch as she could. She ripped open a small piece of gauze, taped it over the wound, and gave it what she hoped was an encouraging little pat. “Done.” She stood up, knees popping, and brushed a few blonde strands away from Ed’s downturned face. A little uncertain, she drew her hands away and asked, “Would you mind if I-”

“Go ahead,” Ed responded before she finished.

Even though Becca thought he gave permission, he still started when she grasped his shoulders in order to clamber around him, socked feet slipping slightly on the slick (thankfully dry, since no one had used it yet that morning) surface as she climbed into the tub.

Ed’s hair, as a general rule, was a paradox in and of itself. Because no matter how much they went through and how little he actually cared for it, the damn mop was basically spun silk. Becca had lamented many a time about how unfair it was; she had to keep to a wash schedule, stick with specific products, and comb out knots in the morning and night if she wanted her dark hair to stay up to the standards it had been held to since birth, yet she was sure that, if she didn’t remind him, Ed might touch a brush once every week (and that would be a generous estimation) and still manage to be pretty.

Keep his hair pretty, Becca scolded herself internally.

She could easily tug her fingers through his hair without yanking at his scalp, which she did a few times until he relaxed, if only a little. Then she separated the length into three sections, weaving them into their normal braid, and tried to make quick enough work of it.

“Rubber band,” she said, the soft request breaking the heavy hush between the pair.

He obliged and forked over a thin, black hairband, nearly stretched to the point of snapping from overuse. Tone admittedly feeble, Becca tried to joke, “You’ll have to track down a replacement for this sometime soon, hm?”

“Yeah,” Ed said. “I guess.”

Becca smoothed a hand over the top of his head, dropping her chin onto it when it was successfully flattened. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and squeezed lightly. She knew there wasn’t much else she could do.

---

If there was any luck left in the situation, Becca figured that it would have to be how Ed’s mood didn’t diminish his appetite. It took some coaxing, but his bodily needs won out against his stubborn need to punish himself and he accepted a few slices of toast and a glass of juice, even if he stared down at the bread as he buttered it like it had personally offended him. When Becca sat down across the table from him, however, he looked up.

“You were down here earlier,” he said, confused. “I thought you already ate.”

Scooping up a handful of grapes from a bowl in the center of the table, Becca justified, “We always eat together.”

Ed’s brow furrowed but he didn’t protest, so Becca just kept her head down as they both finished eating.

“Izumi made me go to bed before I was done reading last night,” she said after a few moments, brushing her hands off on her thighs, “so I’ll be in the library if you need me.”

He nodded.

Becca had just settled down in a pile of cushions and blankets, back resting against a bookshelf, by the time that Ed trudged in after her and wordlessly slump down next to her with his own research journal. She shifted to rest her leg against his, only to have him move away slightly. Becca pulled a sullen face, she knew she did, though she opted to leave him be.

She’d read the same passage three times trying to actually take the information presented in it when Ed snapped his book shut all of a sudden, making her jump.

“Look at me!”

Bewildered, Becca stuttered out a, “I- huh?”

His gold eyes were wide, wild and edged with frustrated tears. “You- all day, you haven’t looked at me! Today- you said you knew what it- what it was! You have-haven’t known what did before- to our house- but now you do and you’re-” He took a gasping breath, chest quivering, and kept on, “you’re disappointed and you won’t even-”

“Edward,” Becca whispered, heart wrenching in her chest.

Ed’s voice cracked as she said his name and he squeaked out, “You won’t even look at me…”

They each heaved a few breaths as Becca tried to comprehend what had just happened and consider her next words.

“I- no- Ed,” she said. She reached for his hand and used it as a contact point to insistently pull him closer. “Listen to me. I am not disappointed in you two. I could never be disappointed in you two. Once I realized what today was, I figured it would be rough. I just- I was worried about upsetting you. I’m so sorry I made you think otherwise.”

“You- you just-”

“I didn’t want to push any buttons, so I guess- I guess I avoided them all together.” She smiled guiltily, rubbing the back of his hand she still held. “Obviously that wasn’t the best course of action.”

Ed blinked and then he groaned loudly, flopping back as his metal hand came up to rub furiously at his eyes. “Of course. I- I assumed- whatever. That was pretty stupid of me. Bex, I’m-”

“You’re the one who’s always telling me to quit apologizing for things that aren’t my fault, don’t break your streak over there,” she teased, urging him closer by scooting over and leaving a spot for him in her pillowy nest. Finally, the tension that had hung over them all morning eased up while he took the offer and leaned into Becca’s side. Once more, she hugged his shoulder, squeezing everything she didn’t know how to say into a firm embrace. “Take a break today.”

For once, Ed actually listened, moving closer, tossing his book away, and burying his head into the junction of Becca’s neck and collarbone. A shaky breath escaped Becca’s lips as her hand scaled down his back, tracing his spine as she went, and she felt his eyelashes flutter against her skin. The breath wasn’t alone, however; a tiny smile followed suit in moments as she let her head drop on top of his, her temple resting atop his hair.

“Tired?” she asked sympathetically.

Ed grunted in agreement, face still hidden. “Haven’t been sleeping well.”

“You haven’t?” Hand freezing in place, Becca picked her head up to look down on him, although he didn’t do the same. “Since when?”

“Since Greed,” he admitted, too flippant in Becca’s opinion. “I wasn’t there and you and Al got kidnapped. I’m just- God- I keep thinking that I’m going to close my eyes and you guys’ll just… disappear again. It’s stupid, I know, but I can’t- I couldn’t do that again.”

“Oh, Ed…” she muttered. She picked up rubbing his back again. “I can’t promise we’ll never get separated again, you know I can’t. Not with the lives we live. But you also have to know that we’ll always come back together in the end. You, me, and Al. We’re family.”

“Hmmm… promise?” Ed asked, tilting his head to yawn.

Becca hummed in agreement. “I promise.”

“Good.” He readjusted and fell silent, and Becca actually thought he might have dozed off until he uttered a very small, garbled, “Hey, Bex?”

“Hm?”

“What were you humming earlier?”

She paused in her ministrations, mulling over the question until the answer struck her. “The lullaby?” she clarified.

“It didn’t sound like you finished it,” he said, low yet adamant.

“Ah.” Finding her rhythm again, Becca pressed, “Would you like me to?”

“Mmhmm.” He propped his chin up on her shoulder and peered upwards, simultaneously beseeching and a little sheepish. “If you want to.”

Becca contemplated for a second. She hadn’t- not since Louisa died- hadn’t felt up to acknowledging that just humming the lullaby was a conscious action. It was just a self-soothing device she’d picked up without even noticing. To be honest, she hadn’t known Ed had become aware of it as well.

But she remembered Louisa, how her voice and the simple tune, not professionally trained or performance level, but beautiful and earnest in their own rights, calmed her after so many bad days, so many aches and pains and sicknesses. How her step-mother would rub her back and touch her hair and express how much she cared for Becca.

How it made her feel safe. Loved. Like she deserved to feel that way, even as the world itself kept kicking her down and telling her no.

“I-”

“You don’t have to,” Ed was quick to reassure, tensing up beneath her fingers. “Don’t- I know it’s-”

“No, it’s okay,” she countered. “I- I want to.”

As soon as she said it, a fond warmth welled up in her chest and she guided Ed’s head back to resting on her and she added, “I think I really want to.”

Ed relaxed at that. That was good. For her part, Becca sat up, straightening her back, and cleared her throat. She opted to start at the chorus.

You are the dawn of a new day that's waking

A masterpiece still in the making…

Instinctively, her hands began to shake ever so slightly. Although it wasn’t from nerves, she assumed. Just… long repressed emotions finally bubbling over. A comfort she hadn’t consciously allowed herself to feel that merged with the familiar lyrics.

The blue in an ocean of grey…

Ed exhaled contentedly and if Becca didn’t know any better, she’d say he snuggled a little closer.

You are right where you need to be

Poised to inspire and to succeed

You'll look back and you'll realize one day…

She fisted the back of his shirt for a few seconds, releasing a bundle of tension and taking a deep, deep breath before she kept on. As she went along, a few things happened around her, though frankly, they went wholly unnoticed. First, Ed finally succumbed to sleep, going fully limp against Becca. Second, Al, returned from his walk, crept into the library. Becca smiled softly when she paused and patted the spot on her other side. Third, eventually, after a brief whispered conversation with Al where he insisted upon it, Becca gave into her own body’s wishes, head tilting back against the wall as she slipped into humming rather than singing until she herself was fast asleep.

And fourth, she figured, Izumi or Sig must have stumbled upon them since the next morning’s sun shined down on three teenagers covered in red, blue, and yellow blankets in the library.

Chapter 25: atelier

Notes:

um, hello, my dears! happy thursday!

tomorrow is my last day of high school EVER which is freaking bizarre, and then two weeks from yesterday is my actual graduation, which is even more bizzare, but there are still those two week in between which i'm sure will be full of college prep as well as hopefully spending more time with becca and actually getting ahead in this story in case i get busy lol, so i'm psyched about that!

in this chapter, we get to hang with my boy ling! i think he comes off as a little flirtier than in canon in my version, just because i think the bits and pieces of that side of him we do see in canon make him super fun and gives me a good opportunity for some sweet, sweet jealousy on ed's end, even if becca doesn't quite see it yet. in the next one, we get a return of another one of my favorite characters (why is it that two of my faves in this whole story are ocs who literally aren't the main character and have shown up like twice?), as well as some girl bonding between winry and bex, because i just think homegirl needs more friends, so look forward to that! as always, check the pinterest boards if you want another hint as to what the chapter may contain and feel free to nag me in the comments if i forget to update it with each chapter.

this note has been really long so shoutout to you if you stuck through it and enjoy the chapter!

atelier (noun)- an artist or designer’s workshop

Chapter Text

“Try to keep up with your training this time-”

“Yes, Teacher.”

“And not just getting into fights like you’ve been doing, I mean actual exercises and workouts-”

“Yes, Teacher.”

“Next time you’re in town, I better not be able to kick your asses in thirty seconds again.”

“We’ll make sure it takes at least a minute.”

Izumi gave Ed an unimpressed look, walloping him in the back of the head in response to the smart comment, then pulling him into a quick hug whilst Ed sputtered angrily. She did the same to Becca and Al, although she had to get up on her toes to fully reach Al’s shoulders. Sig ruffled their hair, patted them on the heads, and passed each person their luggage.

“Hopefully we’ll see you again soon,” Becca said.

“Speak for yourself,” Izumi and Ed said in unison with nearly identical eyerolls.

Becca beamed, chuckling, as student and teacher each cringed and Ed started offering up frantic apologies for his attitude.

“Sorry to leave in a rush, Teacher, but we’ve gotta catch this train,” Al interrupted, tugging Ed away by the hood of his coat. “Can’t keep Winry waiting!”

“Alright, brats,” the woman relented, “stay safe. Watch each other’s backs.”
“We always do,” Ed assured.

Sig waved them off, all but shooing them down the street with a firm, “And try to call every once and a while.”

---

A young boy ran out of the shop Winry had started her apprenticeship at the last time they were in Rush Valley, as they approached the colorful storefront. Becca didn’t bother hiding a grin when he waved over his shoulder, shouting, “See ya later, Miss Winry!”, and received a recognizable response in kind.

“Hello, Miss Winry,” she cooed, sliding around the door. “How’s the southern hospitality treating you?”

Winry shrieked happily as she sprung up from a stool near her workbench and rushed them, sweeping all three of them into a giddy hug. “You guys! What are you doing here?”

Once her grip loosened, Becca stepped away to allow her to fawn over the boys while she took in the shop itself. Much like the Rockbell house in Resembool, it felt comfortably lived in without being cramped or crowded. A few workbenches with various scraps of metal and partially formed limbs were scattered around in a kind of neat chaos; everything in its place, even if Winry was the only one who actually understood it.
Taking advantage of her good mood, Ed tried to continue laughing giddily when he held up his arm, the top panel pried off and wires covered protectively in medical tape. The attempt, brave as it was, didn’t work, given that Winry’s own giggles stopped abruptly and, though the peppy grin was seemingly frozen on her face, Becca could practically see a dark spectre looming up behind her.

“Hey, Win, are you ready-” 

Unintentionally saving Ed from a beatdown, Paninya skipped into the shop and halted upon catching sight of Al’s towering form taking up much of the main showing floor. “Oh! Hey, guys! I didn’t know you were planning on stopping back in town again!”

“We weren’t,” Ed said, slinking to hide behind Becca while Paninya distracted his mechanic.

Lowering her wrench, Winry, pink-faced, greeted, “Hi! Sorry, I totally lost track of time. I was just about to fix up Ed’s arm, so let me assess that real quick and then we can go to lunch.”

Paninya shook her head, smiling brightly. “Don’t worry about it! If it’s bad, I can always run out and pick something up and we’ll just eat here!”

All at once, the true implication dawned on Becca, Ed, and Al-- lunch, with Paninya, presumably alone. In unison, the three of them tilted their heads toward Winry, identical mischievous auras surrounding them. Winry flushed an even brighter pink and hissed at them to, “not say anything stupid, please!” before shooting Paninya a smile. “That sounds good. You wanna hang out around here and I’ll let you know?”

“Sounds good! I’ll be outside, it’s a bit crowded in here.”

Al glanced around at the comfortably cluttered workshop and offered, “I’m gonna wait outside as well. Give you some breathing room.”

“I’ll stick around, if that’s alright,” Becca said.

Winry nodded, gesturing them to a plain set of chairs set up in the corner. “Right over here.” She dragged a small table over, as well as a small flashlight, which she offered to Becca. “Do you mind holding this?”

“No problem.” Becca flicked the light on, illuminating the table as Ed stretched his automail out over the clean surface, then inquired, “How’s your training been going, Winry? Is this guy as good as Mr. Dominic said he’d be?”

“It’s going really, really well!” Winry boasted. “Mr. Garfiel is amazing, he and Mr. Dominic helped me design an arm with a machine gun attachment!” Their friend continued lavishing praise on the two mechanics and Rush Valley as a whole until Ed scoffed, bringing her impervious attention back to him. “And what about you guys? Found anything new? You better not have busted up my automail for a dead end.”

That gave Ed a little reverence, though he did push it aside and reason, “Well, we got another starting point. Not a full clue or a lead, but new information that’s worth researching more.” He blew out an annoyed puff of air. “We’ve still got a long way to go, but I think we’re slowly making progress.”

“We decided on the train here to head to Central next,” Becca informed. “Maybe there’s more we can do in the libraries there with our newest clue.”

“Can’t wait to see how Ed breaks his automail there too. Should I expect to see you back here in another week? Maybe you’ll make it a month this time.”

“Hey, I don’t just go places with the goal of breaking my damn arm-!”

Cutting him off sharply, Winry gasped, eyes sparkling. “Or I could go with you!”

“Why do you want to go back to Central?” Ed asked. “Aren’t you busy here?”

“I want to see Mr. Hughes again!” Winry justified, pouting. “I’ve been practicing baking apple pies too, so I have something to show Ms. Gracia- to repay her for taking care of me. Of all of us, I guess.”

“Aw, that’s so nice,” Becca said as she realized how good of an idea that was. “I nearly forgot we could even visit them-- we were so busy last time, Hughes just came to us. We should pop by too, I’d like to see Elicia for longer than a few minutes.”

Ed faltered at that. Then his tense shoulders dropped and he relented, “Make sure your teacher won’t miss you.”

“See, that wasn’t so hard!”
“I didn’t say you could come-”
“Now shoo, I’ve got to start searching around for a replacement plate for your forearm. Luckily, I think that’s the only thing that seems to be broken beyond simple maintenance.”

“Plus you’re going to lunch,” Ed teased. “Mind if we come along?”

“Yes, I would mind,” Winry said pointedly, hand drifting towards her wrench once again.

Ed raised his hand in surrender and relented, “Alright, alright, we’ll grab Al and go for a walk. Meet you back here in a bit.”

---

“How did I already forget how boring this place is?” Ed drawled, stretching his arms over his head. “There’s nothing but automail shops!”

“That’s not true,” Becca said. “There’s a car shop, a phone shop, an engine shop-”

“Ah, yes. A haven for gearheads.”

“It’s not so bad, Brother,” Al insisted. “Everyone around here thinks I have a full automail body, so I can walk around without having to worry as much as I usually do!”

Becca patted his arm fondly. “Way to look at it through a positive lens, Al.”

“At least they leave you alone,” Ed grouched, shoving a tiny man clutching and begging to take a look at his arm (“free of charge… well, maybe not free, but cheap-” he swore) away. “I swear, I think they target me. Right, Al?” He stopped, then repeated, “Al?”

The armor had halted in his tracks, head tipped toward an alley. “Did you hear that?”

“Huh?”

Al strode through the crowd and bent at the entrance, disappearing from Becca and Ed’s view. The pair shared a confused look.  “Probably a damn stray cat,” Ed grumbled.

“It could be serious, though,” Becca shot back, moving past pedestrians as quickly as they allowed her to, on Al’s tail.

Sure enough, Al straightened up, cradling a figure draped in yellow in his arms. “Uh, Brother?”

“So not a cat,” Ed said. He glanced around furtively. “Should we just… put him back?”

“No!”

The yellow-clad person, a dark haired boy, groaned. “Food…” he mumbled delicately.

Becca laughed. “I guess that’s step one.”

Finding a small street vendor was easy, as was rousing the boy. When Becca wafted the scents from a few pieces of meat under his nose, he instantly woke up a little more and, with minor coaxing, sat up to feed himself with only a few dramatic whimpers of protest. The harder part, it turned out, was getting him to stop.

“My God,” Becca said. The amount of food the boy was able to shovel down, evidenced by the towering pile of plates on the outdoor table, was nothing short of impressive. “How long has it been since you’ve eaten?”

“Oh, a few days!” the stranger said, much peppier after regaining full consciousness and stuffing himself. “I thought I was very prepared, but I underestimated just how long it would take to cross the desert to get here, so I had to ration for the last part of my trip! But it’s alright, it’s very heartwarming to be cared for so well, especially in a foreign country.” He wiggled his eyebrows specifically in Becca’s direction. “And by such lovely company.”

“Foreign country?” Al said.

“Lovely company?” said Ed at the same time, frowning as he looked between her and him.

Against her will, Becca’s cheeks went a bit pink.

The boy nodded at both brothers. Becca, for her part, leaned back in her chair, inclining her chin towards him and hoping any receding blush could pass as a sunburn. “You said you crossed the desert, so you’ve got to be from Xing, right?”

“Exactly!” the boy agreed, motioning excitedly in her direction with his fork.

“You must like to travel,” Ed said skeptically. “You know there’s a sea route from here to Xing, right? It might have taken longer, but at least you would have had a steady food supply.”

“Of course I know, but I had to make a stop on the way. I wanted to see Xerxes! And the ruins were certainly a good place to start my search.”

“What are you searching for that Xerxes could help with?” Al asked, red eyes peering intently at the foreigner. “There’s nothing there. All we know about it was that, allegedly, it was totally destroyed in one night, but even then, that’s only a story.”

Smirking proudly, the boy declared, “I’m trying to learn about alchemy. In Xing, we call it ‘alkahestry’ and use it for medical purposes, but I need some specific information that I haven’t been able to track down back home. So I thought I’d consult a separate source. It could be worth checking out and it seems like you Amestrians are kept pretty busy with it.”

“In military use, yeah, I’d say we’re the frontrunners,” Ed said. 

“But that’s only because our Fuhrer insists we stay so militaristic. Amestris has to be proficient with alchemy because it’s our main weapons in all the border conflicts going on,” Becca added on. “If things were more peaceful, it’s very likely we’d make advances in more humanitarian-aimed alchemy like Xing has. You said it was called alkahestry?”

Eyes bright, the boy gave their trio a starry eyed look. “Are you three alchemists by any chance?”

Alright, we can work with him here without giving him any solid ideas of who we are until we know we can trust him-

“Yup!” Ed said brashly. “I’m Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist!”

“I’m Alphonse, his little brother.”

Inhaling deeply and closing her eyes, Becca thought, Or we can just lay all our cards out on the table right now. That’s fine too. That works.

“Rebecca Harper. My codename is the Illusion Alchemist!”

“Not just alchemists, but State Alchemists?” the boy said as he clapped his hands together. “I’m lucky to have been rescued by experts!”

Internally, Becca pondered that ‘rescued’ might have been a bit of a strong word. Feeding a passed out stranger kind of just seemed like common sense or human decency to her, although she supposed at least some Rush Valley citizens had to have passed him by in their hurry to get wherever they were going.

Ed hummed like he often did whilst considering. “Expertise really depends on the country because of how differently similar techniques are used all over the world. Wouldn’t you consider yourself an expert in your alkahestry? If you had questions about alchemy, we could maybe trade some information for information about alkahestry. You guys think the medical aspect could be useful?”

A little bit of hope took root in Becca’s chest, that maybe this could be a new lead, that they could forget the homunculus in Dublith and stop worrying about sticking their nose somewhere it didn’t belong. She leaned forward excitedly, about to give Ed an affirming response when-

“Oh, no, you’re mistaken,” chirped the boy. “I’m not an alkahestrist!”

Becca froze in place, then almost fell back into her seat. “Then how the hell,” she said slowly, “would learning anything complex about alchemy help you?”

“Technically, I’m not looking to learn alchemy, more like looking for a single component of it.”

“And which component would that be?” Ed questioned.

The boy gave them a serene smile-

“The Philosopher’s Stone.”

-A much too serene smile, especially given how it only widened when all three of them cringed.

“Your faces say that you guys know something about it,” he observed, tilting his head. A shiver went down Becca’s spine at his callous, cool tone. “And you can tell me everything, right?”

“Hell no,” Ed dismissed as he crossed his arms. “If that’s what you’re looking for, we have nothing to say to each other. Good luck getting back to Xing.” He stood back up, pushed his chair in, and turned away. “Al, Bex, you wanna head back to and wait for Winry? I’m sick of getting stared at.”

Raising his hand in an overly polite ‘stop’ motion, the foreigner’s face darkened a tad. “Wait just a moment now.”

Two more strangers seemingly materialized behind them, specifically behind the two standing brothers with a blade pulled on each of them, one on Ed’s neck and the other stuck into a chink of Al’s armor. There were twin noises of surprise, broken off by the blades only pressing further, the threat clear. While her brain tried to catch up with the sudden turn of events, Becca twisted around to both sides, tensing up, then turned back to the boy. He smirked and rested his chin on his closed fist, shifting forward over the table. “I think you misunderstood,” he said sweetly, “that my question really was more of the rhetorical sort.”

Throat muscles bobbing against the small knife against his throat, Ed ground out,”What do you even want with the Stone?”

Sharp teeth glinted as the boy flashed a feral, barely contained grin. “I want to find the secret to immortality.”

Al audibly startled. Becca grit her teeth, narrowing her eyes. Ed, on the other hand, only matched the look on the boy’s face with a tight sneer of his own. “Is that a new trend I haven’t heard of? We just dealt with a guy who wanted the same thing.” He whipped around, arm headed straight towards the masked figure stood him when, once again, they moved faster than one could blink, launching themselves out of the way. Without giving the stranger a second to breathe, he pivoted, throwing another punch that was dodged once again. “Unfortunately for you, he didn’t get anything out of us either!”

“How dare you?” the one behind Al barked, abandoning his spot and grabbing Ed by the hair. Ed growled, teeth gnashing, and wrenched himself away. “The young master asked you a question and this is how you behave! Know your place, commoner!”

“Brother!” Al cried out, surging towards Ed, only for the second attacker to easily flip him over their shoulder, knocking Ed to the ground in the process.

Becca glanced around at the crowd forming a safe distance away from their outdoor table and urged, “Alright, everyone calm down-”

“You two might be fast,” Ed snarled, hoisting himself to his feet, “and your fighting style might be unique, but you’re not as fast as our master, right, Al?”

“Right!”

They both took fighting positions. Becca, who’d only just realized she’d shot to her feet as soon as they decided to keep the fight going, grasped their arms and demanded, “Take this elsewhere- not in the middle of town where anyone can see you.” She leaned a bit closer, whispering in Ed’s ear, “Let me talk to him without the bodyguards.”

One thing that Becca loved about Ed, she decided then and there, was that for all of his braggadocio and surface-level self-confidence, he knew his strengths and weaknesses, because Ed nodded, the motion barely there compared to his sweeping strikes from moments before, basically leaving the task of deciphering this stranger up to her more subtle ways. In return, she squeezed his shoulder, trying to translate her thanks as well as a promise to let him rough the boy up if need be into the small, familiar motion. The pair of strangers, done waiting, ran forward, but Ed and Al fell back and started to retreat. The guards faltered, looking back at the boy. With another wave of his hand from the boy, though, they gave chase, quickly disappearing into an alleyway.

The boy blinked innocently across the table at Becca as she plopped back down into her seat. “Good to know that at least one of you can be civilized,” he remarked as he reopened his menu. He peered at her over the top of it and asked, “Should we order dessert? I can put it on Fullmetal’s tab.”

“I wouldn’t, if I were you,” Becca replied, taking a long sip from her glass of water. “Ed was right, immortality does seem to be a bit of a hot commodity lately. I can’t see the appeal, personally. So tell me, why are you so concerned with the Stone?”

He beckoned for a waiter, murmured something to him, then said, “Some familial affairs. Responsibilities, you know.”

“Some family,” she said, taking a second to really examine the boy across the table. On the surface, he projected a goofy, gaudy persona, only exemplified by his bright, open-chested shirt and sweet smile. But Becca had enough practice discerning reality versus lies and she’d learned her lesson going against her gut and trusting Tucker. She refused to make that mistake again. She refused to let her guard down around this mysteriously powerful stranger, not until he’d proved himself. “And I do consider myself an expert.”

“An expert on family, yet you’re a State Alchemist, travelling alone with two men at what, thirteen?”

“Says the one who crossed a desert by himself. Oh, I’m sorry, alone with two ninjas. And I’m fourteen.”

The boy grinned. “My mistake.”

“Either way, I was talking more about the dysfunctional kind.” She remembered her mother, still lounging around the house and with the married men of Adethal according to her last conversation with Victor, then blinked and forced the thought aside.

“Hm. How so?”

Becca hummed, finally pushing the image away for good and shooting him a forced smile. “Classified information, I’m afraid.”

“Like the Philosopher’s Stone?”

“Goal-oriented, hm?” She raised her glass and toasted the foreigner with the remainder of her water. “But yes, both are practically state secrets.”

“Mm, and you’re sure there’s nothing I could give you to tempt you into giving a few of those up?”

“You think you have something that fits the bill?”

“Absolutely.”

The bill of her life? No. Nothing he could offer her could free her from the gilded shackles of her title. Picking up the pitcher of ice water left on their table, the boy refilled his cup, then stood to do the same for Becca’s. She inclined her head in thanks, though she kept her eyes trained on his hands until they were back at his side, making sure he didn’t slip anything into the water, and made her thoughts known. “I find that hard to believe.”

He laughed, a bright, happy sound that would have been more in place at an actual friendly lunch rather than at what was quickly shaping up to be a potential international relations nightmare. Becca had to resist the urge to rub her temples at the thought of Mustang’s impending lecture if he ever found out about this. Still, the stranger reached across the table, offering his hand. “I’m honored to be in the presence of someone with such loyalty to their country. It’s truly an unappreciated value. I’m Ling Yao.”

Sure, loyalty. Becca rolled her eyes privately. Outwardly, though, she took the boy’s hand, only to receive such an enthusiastic shake that she was half-convinced he’d been trying to shake her watch right off of her belt loops and snatch it like Paninya had their first time in Rush Valley. “Rebecca Harper. It’s a pleasure.”

“I’m sure your comrades will agree.”

As he spoke, though, two twin explosions boomed through the town. Whipping her head around, Becca attempted to follow it on instinct only to push her chair back and nearly topple over backwards. She looked down, seeing Ling’s foot hooked around one of the legs, keeping her firmly in place. She levelled a suspicious glance at him, slowly sinking down amidst increasingly shaky ground and faint, now audible shouts that carried from just a few streets over. 

Ling merely shrugged jovially, unaffected by her soured attitude. “Now onto more pressing matters- what will it take to sway that loyalty? Money? Power? I’m afraid I don’t have much cash or status right now, but I can offer an IOU for after I finish my search.”

“Um… no.”

“Spots in my entourage for the three of you?” he bargained, like it was the best thing in the world. “Follow me and once I get what I want, you’ll have untold fame and fortune in my country-”

She couldn’t help a sharp burst of laughter, the sound falling out of her mouth before she could stop it. “Sorry,” she stuttered out, covering her mouth against any more outbursts. “I just- I don’t think that’s ever going to happen.”

Ling shrugged, the unnerving, easy smile still on his face. “Never say never.”

Finally, Becca felt her chair fall back ever so slightly as the boy relaxed. Sure enough, when she checked, he’d pulled his foot away, allowing her to scoot away from the table.

“My guys should be about done by now. Shall we go see who came out on top?” He stood up, offering Becca his arm. Hesitantly, she looped her arm through the provided elbow if just to make sure he couldn’t bolt depending on the outcome of the fight-- hell, regardless of it. Ed would still want to talk to Ling even if he was bloody and bruised on the pavement.

Luckily, she observed, that didn’t seem to be the case. As they approached, Ed conversed with one of the attackers who had been tied and strung up amongst the rubble from one of the explosions while the other sat petulantly to the side, tied up in a mass of cables with Al. Becca looked closer, scrutinizing the scene until her eyes fell on Ed’s metal arm; notably, it was not attached to his shoulder.

“Winry’s gonna kill you,” she piped up as they made their way over the crest of rigid stone. “What number are we on now, two or three arms?”

“Ha ha, Bex,” he said sarcastically, still shielding his face as he stared up at the suspended combatant, who Becca realized had gotten their mask taken (presumably destroyed, knowing Ed) and was actually a teenage girl. She couldn’t be much older than the boy she was guarding, she realized. She could feel someone’s gaze burning into her and checked over her shoulder to see the other guard, an old man, glared over at her once he’d seen her looking at the young girl. She flinched and let her eyes return to Ed’s back, who was still lamenting, “My body isn’t going to last at this rate. Maybe we should start checking into it, huh?” For the first time, he swivelled around to face her and Ling, then blanched. “What happened with you two?”

Becca followed his gaze down to where her elbow linked with Ling’s. A bright blush slowly stretched over her cheeks as she carefully extracted herself and assured, “Nothing much. Just chatting.”

“Wow! You two must be pretty talented to take them down!” Ling cheered, bounding forward to crowd the brothers and nearly climbing on top of Ed, who shoved him off.

“Yeah, we beat ‘em, so get out of here and go back to Xing!”

Ling shook his head, absurdly fond and exasperated, but didn’t respond before a cacophony of cries made their way up from the town, along with more people crawling their way up the pile after them.

“Look at what you guys did to our square!”

“I just had that roof fixed!”

“Someone still needs to pay for that guy’s meal!”

“Alright, calm down, we’ll figure it out,” Becca soothed. The people turned to her, listening, at least until-

“No, no, no, we were not the ones who destroyed your town,” Ed protested, waving his arms frantically. “It’s those guys who need to pay for-” He pointed over to Becca’s left, only for his face to go slack, “uh- where’d he go?”

Becca had to do a double take because- like the others had when they’d initially threatened the boys- Ling had disappeared in the two seconds that she’d taken her eyes off of him. Her eyes darted up to where Ed had tied up his captive, then to Al’s side. She groaned. Both of them were gone as well.

“Hey! You guys were the ones who got in that fight with Paninya last time you were here!”

“Always causing trouble!”

“My shop needs to be fixed!”

“Well, I can’t exactly do it like this!” Ed snapped, flailing his broken metal arm around.

Becca tried to placate him with a firm hand laid on his bicep. “It’s okay, I can-”

“Wait a second!” Al said. Becca could practically see a lightbulb click on over his head as he remembered something. “I can do alchemy just like you two now, so I’ll do it!” Lowering his voice, he added, “‘S not like I can get tired. It’ll be fast if I do it anyway.”

“You can do alchemy without a circle now?”

“Uh… yeah. Did I forget to mention that?”

Ed stiffened up at that, turning slowly to look up at Al. He weighed something mentally, swayed back and forth as connections flew through his brain, and gasped dramatically, stumbling backwards with his hand over his heart and collapsing into a heap in shock. Becca giggled.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Al said, “He seems kinda tired. Maybe Brother should just stay here and rest and I’ll take care of this. Then we can all go find Winry together.”

“I’ve got him,” Becca reassured him. “Thanks for cleaning up.”

Al patted her shoulder, then led the crowd away, each clamouring for his attention and help. Left alone, Becca let her fingers card through his bangs as she teasingly asked, “Oh, what’s wrong, Ed? Jealous of your brother?”

“He’s already tall and the better fighter!” Ed complained, rolling onto his stomach and propping his head up on a folded arm. “What else am I supposed to base my big brother cred on?”

“You say that like Al doesn’t respect you just as you are,” she challenged.

“Not Al ,” he fretted. “Everyone else.”

“Ah, I see. But I wouldn’t worry,” she pacified him as best as she could. “You’ve still got your name. And your talent. And you’ve got a surprise advantage when people realize how much of a pocket rocket you are.” She stood up, stretching, then pulled Ed along with her and ruffled his hair. “In both senses of the word.”

At least Ed chuckled at that, shoving her away with a fond, “Shut it.” With that, he let his neck relax and head loll, then sighed. “Let’s go find Al, go back to the shop, and get this over with.”

“Sounds good to me,” Becca agreed. “And while we walk, I can tell you what I found out from talking with him, and you can tell me how exactly you wrecked your arm again.”

---

Winry and Paninya were still out when they arrived back at Garfiel’s shop, but the effeminate man received them in with ease. “I have a guest for tea right now,” he said conversationally, leading them to a back room. “You’re welcome to sit down with us, of course-”

They rounded a door and Becca was about to agree to the proposition, at least until she saw the guest himself.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“Hello again!” Ling exclaimed, waving from the table.

Ed grinned wickedly, strode over to where the boy sat beaming at him, and swung his detached arm at his head with a curt, “Hey, you . What the hell are you doing here?” through gritted teeth.

“Hey! I fainted again and your kind friend gave me some delicious tea to revive me and invited me in!” he defended, kneading at his almost surely bruising skull.

“Why do you keep doing that?! You just ate me out of most of my bank account!”

“What do you mean by that? Aren’t we friends? You treated me!”

“We are not friends!” Ed raged.

“Oh, maybe not the two of us, yet,” Ling said, shrugging generously. “But Rebecca and I had a nice gossip session while you two were busy, so I’d like to think that we are.”

“Let’s not get into-” Becca started.

“Oh, fuck, no,” Ed spat, reeling back to hit him again. “No, no, no, no one in this group is-”

“Whoa, now, you might want to be more careful with that,” Ling warned as he leaned out of Ed’s range. When Ed hissed, but put his arm down, he sat up straight and pointed out the window, matter-of-factly stating, “They’re very overprotective.”

Sure enough, fuming and eyes barely visible over the sill, the same guards the boys had fought glared at them from where they apparently crouched outside. Ed took a deep breath and it almost looked like he was going to suck it up and have his own courteous discussion with the foreigner. Alas, because she knew better, Becca covered her ears mere seconds before an impressively long and creative string of profanities erupted from Ed’s mouth detailing exactly how he felt about Ling and his bodyguards and what they could do with their overprotectiveness and tendency to faint-- or rather, where they could stick those particular habits.

“God, Ed, there are children around,” Becca scolded, thumbing over to Alphonse.

“Al’s heard worse-!” he argued before she cut him off.

“You two ought to just come inside since we know you’re here. No use in just sitting there.” Like she’d wanted to do for several hours, Becca finally gave in and massaged the sides of her head, which, to their credit, earned a look of concern from Ed and Al that she shrugged off. “Not a headache headache, just a stress headache. Tell me why I have a horrible feeling that this is going to be a long day…”

Chapter 26: forelsket

Notes:

hey hi hello, my dears!

sorry this is slightly later in the day this time around, i usually upload pretty early thursday mornings, but it's almost noon because i slept in because i graduated last night!!! i'm so excited for all the next steps, but first there's summer! and if i'm honest, i wasn't totally content with this chapter because i was pretty busy doing some final high school junk and college prep and whatnot, but now i've found my rhythm, so i'll hopefully have some more writing time.

n e ways, i don't have much else to say, so a short note for y'all this time around, and let's just get into the story!

forelsket (noun)- the euphoria you experience when you’re first falling in love

Chapter Text

One major perk of an automail shop was the abundance of raw materials to choose from. With Ed’s rough sketch, her own memory, a few stray paint tins, and some spare clay, Becca spread out over the dusty floor and set about organizing her supplies for the necessary transmutation. Ling sat a few meters away, clearly interested given how he leaned over to examine the process even as his guards tried to press a hand to his chest and push him back, while Ed crossed his arm over his chest and half-stewed, half-pouted from across the room next to his more relaxed brother.

Hands touched together, energy crackled around them, and the red, white, and black mask was recreated on the ground (at least as well as Becca could remember it). She picked it up and offered it to the girl with a soft, “I toned it down from Ed’s design, he tends to… exaggerate a little bit.”

The girl ignored both Ed’s scoffed, “Yeah, right. Mine looked cool,” and Becca’s offered olive branch, at least until Ling, bouncing on his heels like an overexcited puppy, brightly said, “Lan Fan! This is a gift, isn’t it cool?”

“Just because some stranger made it for me doesn’t mean I’m going to-”

“Say thank you,” Ling suggested pointedly.

The girl’s mouth snapped shut. Her face flushed ahead of audibly gritting her teeth and bowing stiffly in Becca’s direction. “Thank you,” she bit out, “very much for your efforts.”

“It was nothing,” she replied, returning the action as respectfully as she could as she filed the odd interaction away to reflect on later, along with the odd ‘young master’ honorific and nearly nonverbal permissions and orders that were exchanged during lunch. “I’m sorry your original one got broken in the first place. How rough did that fight get anyway? It seemed like there was a lot of collateral damage, to say the least.”

All four of the participants suddenly found something around them to fiddle with rather than answer and Becca just rolled her eyes. “You know what? I don’t think I wanna know.”

The bell on the front door jingled and two pairs of footsteps could be heard coming in from the street. “Did you guys pass Main Street on your walk?” Winry called as they came closer. “I don’t know what happened, but everyone was all up in a tizzy-” She and Paninya crossed the threshold, fingers intertwined for a split second before Winry had fully realized what she was walking into and dropped Paninya’s hand in favor of grabbing her wrench. Quick as a flash, Ed went pale and he tried to dodge (to no avail), then settled on tossing his arm aside like that would distract the mechanic already locked on her target and begging for mercy (to, if possible, even less avail).

---

“And… up!”

Becca smoothed one last pillow down before Al set Ed on a nearby couch to recover after Winry finished with him. He groaned in pain, so she simply patted him on the head and left him to rest as she bustled around, picking up the leftover materials she’d used to transmute Lan Fan’s mask to place them back where she’d found them, then sliding into a free seat at the table where Winry and Ling had already began a conversation while Paninya beckoned Al for help in the tiny kitchen the next room over.

“So Amestrian women are strong as well as beautiful?” he was crooning, delighted, as she sat down. “This country is even more exciting than I thought it would be!”

Luckily, Winry didn’t seem flustered by the boy’s antics, more focused on the half-story he’d already told Becca. “You really crossed the desert from Xing?”

He nodded eagerly.

Winry whistled under her breath, wide eyed. “That’s dedication.”

“That’s one way to look at it,” Becca muttered. “Some other ones include stupidity, foolishness, naivety-”

The still nameless guard coughed pointedly from his sentry spot across by the door. When her eyes met his, he gave her a dirty look. In response, Becca narrowed her eyes challengingly and the old man grumbled, but didn’t protest. 

“I’m persistent when I decide I want something!” Infectious smile still affixed on his face, Ling scooted his chair closer so he could lean across the table onto his elbows. “And a good multi-tasker! I’ve just decided that it can’t hurt for me to start looking for a wife whilst I complete my main mission-”

“Mission?” Becca asked.

“Wife?” Winry snickered, nudging Becca teasingly.

“Don’t know how that one went over my head,” she replied as she felt her face grow a bit warm again. Or how Winry isn’t as discomposed as I am...

“Young master!” Lan Fan interjected.

“Winry!” Ed complained as he sat up slowly, rubbing his head. “I thought you wanted to go to Central too, and we can’t go until my arm’s fixed, so maybe you could get on that? We actually have stuff to do there as soon as possible.”
“We might already be leaving if you could quit being so careless!” she snapped in reply.

“You guys are going to Central?” Ling said. “That’s great, we’ll tag along with you!”

“Like hell you will!”

“Okay!” Becca interrupted, massaging her head. “How about we worry about getting to Central before we worry about who’s coming with?”

Ed frowned, the expression scrunching his brows up together, and Becca had to suppress the urge to run her thumb over his forehead to smooth them back down. “You can come,” he said decisively, pointing across the room at Winry. “You can go fuck yourself,” he said, shifting it over to indicate Ling.

“Ed,” Becca said firmly. She knew her tone was chastising, though, if she was honest, she didn’t truly feel up to arguing, especially over the people who had ditched them a little while ago. Ed rolled his eyes, but he clearly wasn’t up to fighting either.

Winry set the cup she was drinking from down, then huffed and pulled herself to her feet. “I’ll start fixing your arm up,” she relented. Ed cheered up at that, at least, and Winry was quick to shut him down with a threatening, “One of these days, I’m just going to quit repairing it until you learn to take better care of it.”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed.

“I’m being serious-!”

“We’ll be hanging around for a hot minute, right?” Becca asked, cutting in before the two could start quarreling for real and admittedly scrambling for her next words. “I’ve- uh- I’ve been meaning to call home for ages, there just never seems to be time.”

Wrench dropping to her side and immediately more agreeable, Winry affirmed, “Oh, yeah. We should be able to leave with a late train tonight, but until then, feel free to make yourselves at home. You want me to show you the phone before I start?”

“That’d be great, thank you.” Becca stood up, brushing some stray sawdust off her pants. 

She picked up her teacup, deposited it in the sink, and joined Winry in the doorway, at least until Ed shot up from his spot on the couch, then proceeded to reel as his head no doubt spun at the sudden movement. “Bex!” he protested, looking around wildly. For a moment, Becca thought he might have hurt himself, gotten knocked on the head either in the fight or the beating he received afterward enough to concuss, since he actually looked bewildered and she was about to buzz right back to his side to check on him for real until-

He pointed over at Ling, lounging in his chair with both feet kicked up onto the table. Ed tipped his head back to rest on the back of the couch to fix her with an imploring stare. “You’re leaving me with him?”

“Oh, my God,” Becca said exasperatedly as she crossed her arms over her chest. “I already entertained His Highness while you had your little run around. It’s your turn.”

Ling waved sweetly. “We can finally have a chance to talk!”

“What?! No!” Ed squawked, indignance fading to desperation as he twisted fully around. His head swivelled for back up, but Al had yet to return from whatever Paninya had roped him into and Becca was already headed to trail after Winry. He grabbed her hand, then, after she tried to hide an indulgent smile and tugged it away, settled for pleading, “Bex. Bex, I’m sorry for earlier, come on, don’t leave me- Bex!”

Letting the slightest hint of a giggle slip out, she waved over her shoulder at him, cooing, “Have fun!”

---

“Hello, Giese’s bakery, how can I help you?”

“Victor!”

“Becca?”

“Yeah! Hi!”

She heard the shuffling of fabric and could practically see Victor shifting around so he could get comfortable, moving the phone from one hand to his shoulder and picking up whatever he’d been doing before she called. Good. He knew this would probably be a long conversation, given how honestly overdue it was. “It’s been awhile, I almost forgot what your voice sounded like.”

And as much as Becca might praise him, let it not be said that Victor Giese was without a vindictive streak.

“Ha ha,” she said sardonically. “I know, I’m sorry. We’ve all over the place. I have a lot to tell you.”

“Lots of new developments, I hope?”

“Mmhmm,” Becca affirmed, unable to keep a smile off her face as she heaved herself to kneel on a nearby stool. “How long do you have?”

“Doesn’t matter. It’s been too long. If someone comes in, I’ll just put the phone aside and you’ll keep your ass on the phone until I get back, you understand, young lady?”

Chuckling, Becca saluted playfully, even though he couldn’t exactly see the movement. “Of course. Where’d we leave off?”

“You were on your way to Liore,” came the crackly response.

“Wow,” she said, sucking a breath through her teeth. “You’re sure it’s been that long?”

“Oh, sorry, I just forgot the last time you called. You do it so often, I get them mixed up.” 

Victor’s eye roll was nearly audible from Adethal, which Becca matched with one of her own, getting more comfortable in her seat. “Right, alright, I get it. Well, Liore didn’t go as planned…”

It felt good to talk about everything they’d been through recently with Victor. He was a good listener, active, always responding with appropriate words (or sounds if he was left speechless). He questioned Will’s true motives of letting her go the last time they’d met, groaned when she detailed how yet another lead fell through, and obligingly swore to secrecy when she asked him to after disclosing the true nature of the Philosopher’s Stone, humming understandingly when she broke down for a moment, saying that she had to tell someone . A few times, a customer popped in and she got to listen in on some casual conversations, sometimes with people she hadn’t known back home, but often with those she had. She even got a couple minutes to exchange pleasantries with neighbors in gaps of discussion which was… nice.

The normalcy she was privy to over the phone line was therapeutic, in a way. As she said farewell to the homebody from next door, old Mrs. Everhart, and thanked her for the assurance that she was taking good care of Louisa’s grave while Becca was away, she knew in her heart that if- no, no if, when- all the craziness was over, all the debt and sins repaid and atoned for, she’d have a home. With Victor, with her fellow citizens in Adethal, with the memory of Louisa, and with her boys, Ed and Al. She could practically see herself, running up the sidewalk past her own house to embrace Victor in his yard, destroying that old shed in the backyard for good, clearing out her father’s study to make room for a library where she could spend her days wiling away the hours, leaned up against Ed-

No , she stopped herself, shaking her head slightly. Not that . Not now. Probably not ever.

Ed and Al had a home. They had Mrs. Rockbell, and Winry, and all the people they’d known in Resembool. They’d stay friends after Al got his body back, of course, but Becca’s dues could take her entire life to take care of. She might never be her own person. She wouldn’t, no, couldn’t ask them to deal with this for her. She would be content with what she had and wouldn’t ask for anything more.

“Becca? I’m back, did you get disconnected?”

She jolted. “Hm? Oh, no. Sorry, got lost in thought. Anyway, that was pretty much it on this side. We’re waiting in Rush Valley, but Winry said she’ll try to get us on the last train out of here tonight, and then we’re onto Central. Hopefully, it won’t be quite as life-threatening this time around, so I’ll try to keep in contact more, okay?”

“Alright,” Victor said hesitantly.

“How are things at home?” Becca asked, trying to steer the topic into safer waters. She knew she was being avoidant and possibly freaking poor Victor out more than she already had, but she had to push those thoughts away. She called Ling’s journey naive, so she couldn’t exactly fall into her own spiral of impossible daydreams.

Knowing her friend, he likely picked up on her nerves, so thankfully, he went with it. “Compared to what you’ve been doing, we’re all pretty boring over here. No major developments that I know of.”

“Sometimes I miss that,” she confided, then forced saliva down her sandpaper-like throat and posed the ever-awkward question: “And how’s my mom?”

“She’s… she’s your mom.”

Becca laughed uncomfortably. “What more can I ask for?”

“She wanted to know if you’ve figured out how to properly curl your hair yet.”

“I’ve told her, I like it wavy,” she huffed, touching one of the loose strands around her face, a tiny wave of self-consciousness rearing its ugly head. “And ‘s not like I have much time to deal with it anyway.”

“I know, I just wanted to pass the message along,” Victor pacified her.

Pushing her hair out of her face once and for all, she curled up a little tighter, cradling the phone closer to her chest. “Thank you,” she said, voice carefully measured. “I mean that. I understand she can be a lot, so… thank you, for looking after her.”

“I don’t mind. I never mind,” he said firmly. “Stay focused on your job, keep helping those boys, and don’t worry about us back here, okay? I’m holding down the fort for you… and Will. Eventually.”

“Eventually,” she echoed affectionately.  She popped her pocket watch open and checked the time, groaning quietly when she saw the time. “I should probably let you go.”

“No, you’re probably not gonna call again for like forever ,” Victor whined, drawing out the vowels in each word.

“You’ve got your actual job,” she pointed out, “and I really gotta give up the phone in case one of the automail customers needs to reach them, but I promise I’ll try and be better at calling.”

“Will you?”

Yes ,” she said, letting out a breathless laugh. 

Victor, at least, gave a similar one in response. “Alright, alright,” he relented. “Then I’ll talk to you soon. Keep your chin up.”

“I will.” Becca hopped off the stool, rubbing pins and needles out of her sore knees and calves. “I love you.”

“Love you too, squirt.”

The receiver clicked as Victor hung up. Becca stood, still holding the phone, for a few moments, then did the same. A droplet of warmth traced the curve of her cheek and she suddenly realized that she’d teared up, the evidence of which was now making its way down her face until she wiped it away with her palm. In the back of her mind, she thought maybe this was why she didn’t call more often. She doubted she could take the pangs of sadness ringing through her heart right now all the time, so she just didn’t risk it. 

God, I want to go home. She laughed tiredly to herself. Never thought I’d say that.

Tipping her head back onto the wall, she swallowed thickly, compartmentalizing those particular musings to the darker confines of her thoughts as she forced back the tears.

One look around the doorway into the main floor space of the shop only revealed Ling bouncing around Ed asking question after question as the guards looked on, stony glares still in place behind their masks, while Ed himself practically hissed at the exuberant boy. For a moment, Becca considered stepping in to help, then Ling demanded to know more about how Ed had figured to detach his own arm to throw Lan Fan off his tracks-- the first time Becca was hearing about that facet of his plan-- and she decided that Ed deserved a few more tastes of his own medicine.

Maybe that’ll teach him to quit being so reckless. Shutting the door as quietly as she could, she pondered the notion for a moment and chuckled to herself. No, it won’t.

She padded down the hallway, heading for the smaller room where she’d sat with Winry and Ed while he got the simplest repairs done earlier and found the engineer bent over the detached arm itself with a magnifying glass, and knocked on the wall so as not to startle her. “How’s it looking?”

Winry hummed, shining a tiny flashlight into some crevice in the arm. “Luckily for Ed, not significantly worse than how it started. The port got messed up, but that’s a quick enough replacement. Everything else is mostly just crossed wires.”

“Oh, that’ll cheer him up,” Becca observed.

At that, though, Winry’s gaze flicked up at the same time that a coy smile flew across her face. “You’d know that, wouldn’t you?”

Becca faltered, her movements stuttering to a stop and any warmth and color draining from her face. “Wh- what is that supposed to mean?” she choked out.

“Whoa, hey,” Winry said, all playfulness dropping from her tone as she took Becca’s hand. Gently, she guided her to sit down on a rickety chair across her worktable, then attempted to soothe, “No need for that look. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out, it just seems like… well, it just seems like there’s something else between you guys. I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“Something else?” she repeated dazedly.

“Yes, but if there’s not-”

“There is.”

“Huh?”

“There is something more- on my end, at least. I- I think I like Ed.”

The words- no, Becca supposed, the truth spilled out before she could stop it. Her mouth snapped shut and she shrunk back in on herself, crossing her arms. In her mind, she knew the action looked defensive, but she couldn’t exactly take the words back. There wasn’t even a point in trying. So she curled up and tried to instead prepare for the rebound of her singular moment of courage.

Winry, however, hardly flinched. In fact, when Becca forced herself to look up, she wasn’t greeted by a disapproving frown or any expression of anger, but a toothy grin. “I knew it,” she said.

“Please don’t tell,” she mumbled.

Looking scandalized at the very idea, she put a hand over her heart and insisted, “I would never tell Ed-!”

“No, not just Ed, like- like not anyone. Not Al, not Paninya, not even your grandma. Please.”

“I mean, of course,” Winry assured, a little more serious. After a few seconds of silence where she appeared to be waiting for Becca to say something, she ventured, “But you don’t seem very excited about it.”

Unfolding slightly and trying not to sound too cynical, Becca barked out a short laugh, then, as lightly as she could, replied, “Why should I? It won’t happen. With the way things are in the military, it can’t happen. Mustang would wring my damn neck, not to mention my father would be rolling in his grave if I let myself get distracted and my mother- God, she’d never leave me alone if she heard-” Not if she heard I liked anyone, but especially if she heard it was another State Alchemist- does this mean I have the same taste as her? She shook her head a little to herself, dismissing that thought. Ed was not like her father; they’d made that clear back in Liore. Ed was her friend, and maybe that’s what bothered her so much. Normal teenagers still got butterflies in their stomachs for their first crush, even if they couldn’t act on it. Becca couldn’t afford that. Not financially with her debt, but… not emotionally either. “And it could ruin everything- our- our partnership, our work relationship, and our friendship. I don’t have anyone other than the Elrics and like, one friend from home. I- I don’t know what I’d do. I can’t lose them.”

Before she knew it, Winry was gripping her hand again, tighter this time, and squeezed firmly. “Hey, hey, hey,” she said. “You don’t have to worry. I’m not gonna tell anyone. Girl code, right? Because it’s not just the Elrics anymore… you have me too now. We’re friends, you hear?”

Becca took a deep, shuddering breath, then let it out as she felt her racing heart slowing down. “I- I don’t- thank you.”

“‘Course!” Winry said flippantly, patting the back of her hand.

“So, um… how did you find out?”

She laughed, then teased, “Becca, no offense, but I’ve known since you guys came back from that walk when you came to get Ed’s arm fixed in Resembool.”

Embarrassment flooded her chest, along with a heavier feeling that she slowly identified as shame. “I didn’t even know back then!” she groaned, letting her head fall into arms folded on the tabletop. “Was I that obvious? Ed and Al’s teacher said something similar...” she said, voice slightly muffled.

Winry giggled again, calmingly petting her hair, and soothed, “No- well, maybe a little-”

“Dammit…” she cut her off with a whine.

“No, no, no!” Winry said quickly, still giggling. “Ed’s oblivious! He’s never gonna pick up on it if you don’t tell him, so there’s no rush!” Sobering up a little but still with a tiny grin on her face, she added, “But if you decide that you ever want to tell him… I approve, ‘kay?”

Peering over her jacket sleeves, Becca gave Winry a wide-eyed look. “Approve?” she asked.

“Do I have to explain-?”
“No, I get that,” Becca said, rolling her eyes. “I just realized- you like Paninya!”

“Oh, God, what am I going to do with you?”
“I mean I never asked about it!” she protested. For the first time since they’d started talking, an earnest grin cracked over her face now that the conversation was more light hearted. “Is it new? Was today supposed to be your first date?” She clapped her hand over her mouth, then whispered, “Did we interrupt your first date?”

Finally, it wasn’t Becca who was blushing. Pink spilled over her friend’s cheeks and she averted her eyes. Becca gasped and squealed, shaking her around by her arm.

“Winry! That’s so excited, I’m so happy for you!”

“Stop!” she protested half-heartedly, still flushed, but beaming all the same. Becca hummed happily, her mood improving with each giggle the girls exchanged. “Alright, alright, that’s enough… I really do have to get busy if we want to leave today.”

Becca nodded in understanding, standing up with a stretch. “Do you think Mr. Garfiel would mind if I used his kitchen to make us something for the road?”

“Nah, what’s ours is yours. Go nuts.”

“Thanks,” she said as she offered a quick farewell wave over her shoulder, then built on, “for the arm and… everything else too.”

---

“Edward! Come here so we can put your arm back on!”

“Thank God ,” Becca heard him say from the main floor room. 

There was a thud and an, “Ow!”, as well as two distinct, “Young master!”s, and Becca suppressed a smile as she packed up a few hard boiled eggs and a large flask of soup. She shared a look with Al and Paninya while they washed and dried dishes, and all three of them looked away, too in danger of bursting into laughter if they didn’t. Ed’s head poked around the wood of the doorway.

“You guys free enough to help me out?” he requested hopefully.

“I’ll finish up here,” Paninya dismissed the pair, only for Ed to grab them by the forearms and drag them back to Winry’s workshop.

“Did you have fun with Ling and Company?” Becca teased.

He growled, brows furrowing, and didn’t dignify her with a response, only an eye roll. She couldn’t help a snicker at his childish nonanswer, but didn’t bother to push anymore. She figured she could assume what had gone down well enough.

“Sit, sit,” Winry instructed as they crowded into her work space, ushering Ed to the spare seat. “I’ve still gotta pack, so let’s try and do this in one go, okay?”

“‘S not like I want to do it multiple times,” Ed said pointedly. He wiggled the fingers on his flesh hand and drew Becca’s attention there.

Seeing her eyes flick down, Winry requested, “Becca, if you can hold his arm down so Al can get both legs?”

“Yup.”

“Everyone ready?”

They all nodded. Ed grit his teeth in preparation.

“1… 2… 3!”

One click and one strangled sound of pain and he relaxed. Becca massaged some latent tension out of the hand she still held while, on Ed’s other side, Winry checked that all the connections functioned correctly.

“Alright,” she announced, “all done.” Becca could have sworn she heard several of the engineer’s joints pop as she stood up and stretched. “You three are welcome to hang out in here, but I’m gonna get ready to go.”

“I’ll run down to the station and buy train tickets,” Al decided, his metal joints creaking as well as he got to his feet.

Becca flashed a thumbs up in his direction. “We’ll finish up any business here after this one’s done recuperating.”

“Al?” Ed said, voice still strained and weaker than usual from the shock probably still ringing through his body from the automail attachment.

“Yes, Brother?”

“Don’t buy tickets for those Xingese guys. Ling might think he’s coming with us. He is not.”

Al sighed, the eyeroll nearly audible when he agreed, “Sure, Brother.”

Narrowed, golden eyes glinted as he grinned vindictively, and Becca just shook her head, focusing in on prodding more at the tiny, tight muscles in his hand in comfortable silence.

Chapter 27: floricide

Notes:

hiiiiii, my dears!

i know, i know it's late, it's just after 11 o'clock here, but it's still thursday here so i win! i've been busy busy busy basically working full time and i wrote this entire chapter in comic sans because apparently that helps you write more??? idk, instagram told me so it must be true lol. (and i got a new laptop for college and junk so i'm not struggling through every keystroke anymore!) as repayment for the late chapter, i did make this one fairly long and the next one will prob be longer because this is my favorite arc i've planned so far. i don't think any of y'all are gonna predict where this is going, and it's gonna be a rough couple chapters hopefully with a very satisfying ending :)))))))

i think i'm rambling because i'm tired so y'all can just go ahead and get to the chapter and ignore my bs! love y'all!

floricide (noun)- one who destroys flowers

Chapter Text

“Of course, we wasted so much time fixing my arm because of you ,” Ed said, crossing his arms and, arguably, pouting in his seat as their train pulled out of Rush Valley. “And now you won’t leave us alone!” he snapped at Ling, sat across from him next to Winry.

“Such a happy coincidence that our seats ended up right next to each other!” Ling just said cheerily.

“And you were the one who broke your arm,” Winry reminded.

“It was their fault!”
“No need to worry, I already scolded Lan Fan and Fu for all the chaos back there,” he assured. “You must understand, their family has served mine for generations. They have expectations to live up to and they just got carried away.”

“Carried away?! They were-”

“Serving your family?” Becca interrupted Ed, tilting her head.

Ling waved her off, but both Elrics jumped on that point.

“Yeah, you might actually be important with bodyguards like that,” Ed pondered.

“Brother!” Al scolded, though he then pressed, “Still, why do you have two disciples, Ling? I know we hardly have room to talk, but you seem a little young for- well-” He gestured around vaguely, “-any of this.”

“Oh, my family was just worried about me travelling alone,” he said casually. “I am only fifteen, so I understand where they’re coming from.”

Ed choked on spit from his spot next to Becca. She reached over, thumping his back a few times until he sputtered into a disbelieving silence, scrutinizing the taller boy up and down until Winry stage-whispered, “There you go, Ed. You guys are practically the same age, maybe you two have some common interests that would help you get along?” across the aisle and he stomped to his feet, pointing for Ling to stand up next to him. He obliged, and Becca rolled her eyes as he pointedly stretched to his full height, still a good head shorter than Ling’s natural posture. There was silence for a second until the difference totally registered in Ed’s head. At that point, though, he whined, growled, tugged at his hair, and huffed threateningly before she managed to grab his arm and pull him back to their bench ahead of a major tantrum.

God, with Al remembering how to do alchemy without a circle and this guy showing up, I might have to start worrying about Ed’s self-esteem, Becca thought, thumbing soft circles into the fabric of his coat and urging under her breath, “Keep your cool.”

“I’m always cool,” he grumbled.

She rolled her eyes- Or maybe his ego is perfectly intact - then switched the subject and hoped the change in conversation didn’t sound too forced. “They don’t want you travelling alone but they got tickets for another car?” she questioned. She supposed there was something to the guards trying to keep an eye on multiple entrances, but having their charge as a sort of central meeting point made the most amount of sense to her, although maybe-

“Of course not! They’re here!” Ling replied.

The four others glanced around, as if they could have missed the Xingese guards and their distinctive masks now that they knew what to look for. Ling laughed at their confusion.

“Well, I suppose here isn’t the most accurate descriptor,” he amended, pointing upwards. “They’re up there.”

“...What?!”

“As far as I know,” Ling clarified slowly, like the Amestrians were the weird ones for their reactions, “they’ve hitched a ride on the roof.”

“Ah,” Becca noted, speaking for all of them, given that Alphonse and Winry seemed to still be reeling and Ed might spontaneously combust if he had to deal with the other boy anymore for the foreseeable future, forced smile as measured as she could make it. “Of course. Excuse our mistake.”

Ling smirked. “It’s excused.”

Her already indulgent expression tightened. “Great,” she gritted out.

“Are they okay up there?” Winry asked softly.

Becca leaned over, resting her head against the shaking window and, not for the first time over the course of their interaction with Ling and certainly not for the last, told herself that it was going to be a long ride.

---

And it was. Although, she thought, at least Ling vanished right after the train slowed to a stop in the station, much to the chagrin of his guards, who’d hopped off some hidden ledge, stopping them in their tracks to demand they reveal where they’d taken the disappearing foreigner. Ed snarked them off and they had quickly grown panicked when they realized their trio definitively did not somehow stash Ling in a suitcase. Glaring darkly, the pair slipped back into the shadows, presumably to go search for their runaway charge.

“Odd people,” Winry observed as they made their way out onto the main boulevard, headed towards Central Command.

Always one to be a bit cruder with his words, Ed scoffed, “Weirdos.”

Winry rolled her eyes. “Don’t be crass.”

“Oh, yeah? You got a problem with-”

“Children,” Becca interjected good-naturedly. “Please.”

Huffing, crossing her arms, but still shooting her an amused look, Winry decided, “If you guys have to do paperwork or whatever, I’m just going to get a head start to the Hughes’ house. Maybe I can help Ms. Gracia fix up some dinner for all of you when you get home!”

“Thanks,” Becca said gratefully. “That sounds… heavenly.”

“We’ll see you there, Win,” Al said.

Ed grunted, still keeping up a cross front on the surface.

“How sweet,” she said flatly.

He made a face and added, “Be careful.”

“Truly a gentleman,” she giggled. She glanced over at Becca, simultaneously knowing and teasing, then waved and made her way into the crowd of the street.

After making sure she was indeed off into the right direction, Becca turned back to the boys and said, “Shall we go take care of business?”

“Hopefully it won’t take too long,” Ed agreed.

---

With all the turbulence in their lives lately, Becca could rest assured that Central Command stayed the same. Same white stone towers towering over the city, same deep forest green Amestrian banners hanging rain or shine, same wrought iron gates where the soldiers gathered to smoke and gossip and-

“Lieutenant Hawkeye?”

“Oh!” the blonde woman exclaimed, lips parting slightly in surprise at seeing them. “Hello, you three. How have you been?”

Ed shrugged, answering for all of them, “Same old, same old.” Then he paused, eyes flicking back and forth from Hawkeye to the huge building behind her, calculating. “But wait a second, if you’re here, then that must mean that-”

“Fullmetal, Illusion, I wasn’t expecting to see you here anytime soon,” came the familiar smarmy greeting. Colonel Mustang rounded the corner, adjusting his gloves and coat cuffs as he came. Ed hissed demonically, scowling and recoiling into Becca’s side. Mustang smirked. “Aw, what’s that face for?” he mocked.

“What are you doing here?” Ed demanded.

“Well, given how some of us are actually devoted to our jobs, and the way that the military works is that, if you’re devoted to your job, you might-”

“Did you get promoted?” Becca said, with what must have been evident shock in her tone.

The colonel deadpanned in her direction and huffed indignantly. “Yes. Thank you. Not like I was building up to that or anything.”

“Some of us are actually devoted to our jobs and don’t have time for dramatic build-ups,” Becca parroted back. 

She saw Lieutenant Hawkeye roll her eyes in her peripheral vision, specifically when Mustang opened his mouth to retort and she had to insist, “Sir, with all due respect, please refrain from starting a fight, verbal or otherwise, with a teenager in public. It’s not particularly endearing.”

“I was just going to ask what they were doing here!”

“Of course.”

Mustang waved a demanding hand at the three of them and prompted, “So?”

“We’ve made some progress and we wanted to look into Philosopher’s Stones a little more,” Ed explained briefly.

The colonel frowned. “From what Armstrong told me, it sounded like you were done with the Stone after the incident in the lab.”

“Just a hiatus, but then we got some new info,” Ed deflected. “Now we’re going to follow that rabbit hole and check out homunculi, if they have anything that could be of use.”

“Homunculi?” Mustang scoffed. “Give me a break.”

Now it was Becca’s turn to frown. Mustang always underestimated their tenacity and quick wits, never seeming to see Ed as much more than a firecracker always on the brink of exploding, Al as anything other than his brother’s keeper, and Becca as a fragile little girl still running from the bigger kids in the schoolyard. “You think we can’t? You do realize we passed the same written tests you did in order to get here, right?”

“Probably got better scores too,” Ed taunted, his own face sour as well. “We’re pretty damn smart, Colonel Bastard.”

“Guys…” Al said warningly, his hand coming up to grip Ed’s hood as a precaution.

“I only meant that any military research pertaining to homunculi, or any form of human transmutation, if it even exists would be near-impossible for anyone to get access to, even soldiers of our status,” he fired back. “Probably locked away for only the Fuhrer and his inner circle to protect and keep under guard from brats who get too many big ideas.”

Edward, Alphonse, and Becca all made eye contact with one another, the message clear- Mustang must not know about the entirety of Lab 5. He’d know that human transmutation and Philosopher’s Stone research is one in the same if he did.

Clearly, there had to be a reason for Hughes and Armstrong to keep Mustang out of the loop. They had to play along until they could catch up with them, establish a game plan, and understand why exactly they weren’t updating the colonel, especially when he had been transferred and was therefore right there to aid and offer further knowledge. For all his jackassery and tendencies to fool around during work hours, the Roy Mustang Becca knew, the one her father had described in his class with a note of something adjacent to pride, was calculating and brilliant in his own right, observing those around him and predicting their next moves to plan his own, often with deadly accuracy. He was a good person to have on one’s side, if not exactly at one’s side.

She could admit, she’d started to mimic it after hearing him lavish his own messed up (self-centered) version of praise upon “The Flame Alchemist, the next up-and-coming great alchemist of Amestris” (“Wish I had him for a son, my legacy would be secured-” “Benedict!”).

“Whatever. We figured that out on our own the first time too, we’ll just do it again,” Ed said, drawing Becca out of her internal reminiscing. “And,” he continued, “We were also hoping to visit Lieutenant Colonel Hughes while we were in town. Is he around here somewhere? Better talking to him than the bastard,” the last sentence coming out as more of a mumble than anything, though the grouchy words were offset by a fond smile that had bloomed onto his face. Becca herself couldn’t stop an eager one of her own and even Al perked up as soon as his brother mentioned Hughes.

On the other hand, for some reason, the question seemed to make the usually unflappable dark-haired man stumble. Not physically, of course, but whatever snarky remark he was about to make froze on the tip of his tongue. A look over his shoulder showed an almost… guilty expression that was quickly wiped and he went blank.

“Hughes-” he began, then started over, “Hughes isn’t here.”

Hawkeye looked up at him, then, after a brief staring contest between them, surrendered and looked away, her gaze instead falling to the sidewalk. Al stiffened. Ed’s smile wavered a bit. Becca’s flipped completely into a pout.

“What- what do you mean, sir?” Al inquired when Mustang didn’t give them more information without prompting.

“Moved out to the countryside,” he said shortly. With each word, he walked further away, boots clicking on the cobblestones over the sounds of the soldiers lazing around on their breaks-- oblivious chatting, raucous laughter, the works-- and ignoring the quintet as the colonel listlessly said, “After a few recent disturbances, he didn’t think it was safe here anymore. So he took Gracia and Elicia and left. I think he was planning on picking up the family business out there. Either way, he’s gone. Lieutenant?”

Hawkeye, who’d gone into some sort of daze of her own, snapped back to attention. “Coming, sir.”

“I’ll keep an ear out for any of the information you wanted,” Mustang assured, regaining a bit of confidence in his voice, though that might have just been a side effect of increased volume, Becca considered. “Don’t jump to any conclusions and don’t look too deep into anything sketchy. That goes for all three of you.”

With Hawkeye a step behind him and without waiting for an answer, Mustang disappeared into the command center.

“That sucks about Hughes,” Ed said glumly after a minute of silence where they digested what they’d just heard.

“Yeah…” Al agreed. “I wish we could have said goodbye to him at least. And thank him for everything he did to help us.”

Becca hummed, running a hand through her hair as she recalled how defensive she’d gotten in response to Mustang’s doubt before. “I feel a bit bad for getting cross with him earlier,” she said. “It sounded like Hughes leaving was taking a toll on him. I can’t blame him for being in a bad mood when his friend just up and left like that. Havoc told me those two have been close since their academy days.”

“Heh, I guess that’s why they sometimes acted like they were still in the academy days,” Ed chuckled, picking up his suitcase with an exaggerated groan. “I guess we should go find Winry before she gets to their old place and gets confused.”

---

Luckily, running and weaving through the crowd meant they caught up to the blonde quick enough. When they recounted what Mustang had said about the Hughes family’s sudden departure, she’d expressed similar disappointment, but wished them well as the others had. They found a quaint cafe to regroup, huddling around a table on the patio as they watched the citizens mingle around them. They’d only just placed their orders (Winry asking for a water, Becca for a tea, Ed, to no one’s surprise, skipping the drinks entirely and requesting a hefty sandwich, and Al excusing himself) when a little newsboy clambered off of a wagon with his bundle of papers onto the corner nearby.

The smile that crossed Becca’s face at the image of the boy nearly overwhelmed by his load didn’t last long.

“Extra, extra, read all about it!” he shouted. “Second Lieutenant Maria Ross declared guilty of murder!”

A chill ran down Becca’s spine. Shock ringing through golden eyes across the table only told her that she hadn’t spontaneously hallucinated. Her heart rate spiked and breaths shuddered to an abrupt halt.

“Wh-what?” Al stuttered.

“What the hell is he talking about?” Ed demanded.

Winry frowned, looking between the other three. “Someone you guys know?”

“I- they have to be mistaken. There’s no way- hey, kid!” shouted Ed, waving a bill in the air. The boy bounded over, newspaper clutched to his chest, and took Ed’s cenz before handing it over. He slammed it down on the table so all of them could see. Sure enough, a photo of Ross was spread across the front page, her expression stony but her eyes terrified. Even worse though, as they peered closer, Winry let out a strangled gasp and pointed to the bottom corner-- a miniature portrait of a familiar, dark-haired, bespectacled soldier captioned Brigadier General Maes Hughes was found shot in a telephone booth on September 29th. The blonde dropped heavily into her seat, silent except for sudden, quiet sobs wracking her body as Becca reeled.

“‘Officials say Hughes was killed with a military weapon... the second lieutenant requested one bullet for replacement… false claims as to why she fired the missing bullet...’” she said. “That’s wrong. That has to be wrong. Mustang said-”

“Ross was missing a bullet because she fired once to protect me at the Fifth Lab,” Al said urgently.

“Mustang’s a dirty liar, we already knew that,” Ed snapped at the same time, flipping the paper over, disgusted. “But Ross wouldn’t- she- she just wouldn’t!”

“There’s no motive given or anything,” Becca observed after she snatched the story back and read further in. “And it even says Ross tried to say she was with her family at the time of-” She winced, “-of the shooting, but-”

“Family testaments aren’t permissible as alibis,” she and Ed finished in unison.

Ed growled and banged his fist on the table. “Dammit! Why are some of these country’s laws so damn backwards?” His face hardened, scowl sinking into something sterner. “We’ve got to stop this. That bullet crap isn’t even proper evidence, but they’ve already convicted her! That’s not fair!” Pushing his chair back and tossing his coat over his shoulders in one grandiose motion, Ed’s rarely used authoritative voice ordered, “Winry, go to the Hughes’ house. You’ll be safe there, and Ms. Gracia probably needs support right now. Tell them we’ll come by later if- if they want to see us.”

Shaky, but now at least with a purpose, Winry nodded, getting to her feet on her own and wrapping herself up in her jacket, hustling back into the restaurant and out to the street. Ed threw down a few pieces of cash to pay for the drinks and meal they were abandoning, then, rather than follow Winry, hopped the little fence separating their table from the crowd of Central and took off in a dead sprint the other direction back to Central Command, Becca and Al following in his footsteps at once.

---

When the main street got too difficult to push through, Becca started thanking her lucky stars for a good memory and unfortunate circumstances.

“This way!” she called, ducking into an alley she remembered from the MacDougal chase. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, seemingly more with every step, and blood rushed in her ears, obscuring the sounds of their hurried footsteps, their heaving breathing. So it was only when Al grabbed onto the collar of her jacket before she rounded a corner that she stopped-- seconds ahead of a second trio coming upon them.

“Second Lieutenant Ross?”

“Ling?”

“The armour who attacked me at the Fifth Lab?”

“Edward, Alphonse, Becca!” Ross said, relief bleeding over her expression. “What are you three doing here?”

“We were coming to find you!” Al explained. “You didn’t really-”

“No! Of course not!”

“We’ll vouch for you- having two State Alchemists has to help at least stall the proceedings,” Becca said desperately.

“First, you need to get away from them,” instructed Ed as gently as he could manage through clenched teeth and stiff posture. “If that guy is who Al says he is, he’s dangerous, and if Ling’s body guards see you with him, they’ll-”

“You three are fools if you think there’s time for that,” the armour accompanying the second lieutenant, apparently one of Al’s former foes, cackled, brandishing twin swords in their direction. Becca shied away, pushing Al behind her and tugging on Ed so he followed at least a few steps. If he was from the laboratory, who knew what kind of mental state this guy was in? Or what crimes he may have already committed in life? No, giving him space was the best option, even if it made Ed’s already tight shoulders scrunch further up to his ears at having to leave Ross within their reach.

“Alright, Missy, go straight that way,” the armour ordered, pointing further down the alley she, Ed, and Al had already been running down, “stay in the shadows, and there’ll be a cluster of warehouses. You should be able to hide away in there until the search dies down, you hear?”

Warehouses? Becca frowned. “Ross, there’s no-”

A shriek tore itself from her throat as the armour swung one of his swords, missing Becca by a hair and effectively cutting off her sentence. Ross looked at them, then down the alley, then back. Heavy footsteps, those of soldiers in their regulation boots, sounded from the main street, as well as shouts and barks of search dogs. Regret took the place where relief had just rested and she hesitantly stepped away.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I promise, I’ll explain everything when we see each other again.”

The armour jumped forward, crowding them in the tight space so no one could pass to give chase. Instead, caged by the swords and metal plating, all they could do was shout-

“Second Lieutenant?”

“Ross!”

“Come back, please-!”

The incoming MPs were only growing louder and Becca was about to urge they turn around, try to find another way to track down Ross, or at least get the military to hold and give her more time when, a few blocks away, they all heard a sharp crack and swivelled towards the sound. Bright orange flames exploded high enough that Becca saw them over the rooftops. Everyone, Ling and the suit of armour included, froze. Her heart sank.

Hughes leaving must have taken a toll on him… close since their academy days… can’t blame him for being in a bad mood when his friend just up and left like that…

“Fuck this!” Ed snarled, ducking under the two swords while the armour was too stunned to move.

 “Brother!” Al cried. On instinct, he swung Becca up into a protective carry, curling around her and shouldering through their blockers before setting her down running.

Luckily, Ed hadn’t vanished quite yet and they were able to catch sight of his red coat swishing around a corner. Behind them, she heard the armour growl, “They’re on their own, kid, let’s get out of here!”

Al faltered, glancing back at Ling, and he called out to the Xingese boy, but Becca kept on without him. She raced down the same pathway that Ed had taken only to careen to a sudden stop and nearly topple both herself and Ed as she crashed into his back. His arm splayed out at once across her chest, keeping her tucked behind him as they waved away the smoke to reveal the lean, dark clothed figure standing in the middle of it all.

For a moment, when they could only see his silhouette, Becca wanted to believe that there was some misunderstanding. The colonel was like a bloodhound when he caught a scene on a case, she knew that. She’d always known that. But she’d never seen him as heartless. Ruthless. As long as she’d known him, she’d believed he had a strong moral compass; lines he wouldn’t cross.

But then his eyes flashed in the low light and his unfeeling voice greeted them, the codenames, usually dripping with sarcasm, annoyance, or some strange relative of fondness, instead coming out listless and without life. And there, in the dingy alleyway, surrounded by smoke rolling off a grotesque form curled beneath his feet, Becca saw the cold-blooded killer who had inspired such fear over his time in Ishval and such pride in his old teacher from the academy (probably the same one where he met Hughes, now that she thought about it).

Huddled behind Ed’s shielding arm, she picked the rest of the scene apart in her mind, purposely avoiding the charred… remains until she had nothing else to look at. Sooty walls, trash thrown from a dumpster, and in the middle of it all, a burned corpse, still vaguely human shaped. Even as her face paled and she suppressed a gag, stuffing her fist in her mouth, the analytical part of her mind tried to rationalize this anyway it could. It was telling that the most comforting thing she could come up with was that the person was curled up, but not in the boxer position victims of slow-burning were prone to, indicating that they might have died quickly.

“Colonel…”

Eyes widening, Becca whirled around. “Alphonse…” she whispered, fighting the urge to reach up and try to cover his eyes. Something in her wanted to protect him from this- gargantuan height or not, Al was like her little brother. Hell, he actually was Ed’s, and further than that, he was a kid. Poor Al didn’t sign up for any of this, not in the same way that her and Ed had. He didn’t need to see this. He didn’t deserve to.

And Colonel Roy Mustang, the Hero of Ishval, just pulled off his gloves, then wordlessly spat on the body. In a split second, any blood that had drained from Becca’s face swiftly returned full-force with fury. Her voice cracked as she breathed, “What have you done?”

Mustang raised an eyebrow and gestured to the still-smoking corpse. “What I was ordered to do.”

There were a few seconds of thick silence until Ed roared wordlessly, shoving Becca back and surging forward before she could grasp at the edges of his coat and stop him. He charged Mustang, demanding, “Explain yourself, you bastard!”

He grabbed at the man’s collar, shaking him, saying nothing but repeating the command while Mustang didn’t even dignify him with a verbal response. Instead, to Becca’s horror, he drew his hand back and slapped Ed across the face. He shoved him off of him and onto the ground, although the harsh treatment only made the blonde angrier and he was back on his feet and practically hissing in rage. Al leapt onto him to stop him from charging but only barely managed to pin his flailing arms to his side. All of this Becca watched as a helpless observer, stock still and unable to force herself to move as her superior wiped his brow.

“Watch yourself, Elric,” he said sternly. “Lay a hand on someone with a higher rank than you again and I’ll court-martial you.”

“Why?” Ed shrieked, still contained in Al’s arms. “Why did you do that to Second Lieutenant Ross? She wasn’t guilty, she couldn’t have been guilty!”

“She was guilty in the eyes of the law. She escaped and we were ordered to shoot to kill. It’s that simple.”

“That doesn’t explain anything!” Al protested.

“I apologize for hiding Hughes’ death from you,” he steamrolled over him. “I understand it must be jarring to find out this way. Your heightened emotional state is the only reason I’m going to let your insubordination go.”

Becca wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to order Mustang to explain everything right now or she’d throw something. She was about to open her mouth and do one of those things (which one, she couldn’t be sure) when Mustang turned his stony gaze back to her and her stomach flipped nervously. She hunched into herself; a prostrating position she’d taken up many a time in her earlier years.

How was this- no, he making her feel just as vulnerable as she had in her lowest of lows?

As Mustang turned around, gesturing for them to follow and tell them to “Come with me”, she was hit with the answer like he’d slapped her instead. All too suddenly, she was twelve years old again, long after comprehending that Will wasn’t coming back but when the wounds from Louisa’s passing were so new and raw, the moment she realized that she was completely alone in the world. Perhaps even worse, she was completely alone in her own home.

At least she never trusted her father.

Any trust she had with Mustang had just shattered.

She scowled.

“Illusion, hurry up,” he ordered, raising his eyebrow at her. “What’s that look for?”

Fighting another disgusted gag at his casual tone, Becca lowered her gaze to disguise the hate in her eyes and shot back, “Apologies, sir. I mistook you for someone else.”

---

Armstrong had already been called to help ID the remains before the body had been declared burned beyond recognition, so he wound up sat outside Central City hospital’s morgue along with the rest of their somber party. Mustang had been effectively shunned while the rest of them grabbed seats on the hard plastic benches, exiling him to a spot down the hall, leaned against the wall.

“I am sorry I did not pass along news of the Brigadier General’s death sooner,” Armstrong said softly. “I- I couldn’t bring myself to discuss it while you were already struggling so much in Dublith. Especially since-”

“He died because of us, right?” Ed mumbled. “Because he was helping us look into the Philosopher’s Stone.”

Looking pained, Armstrong just nodded. Ed lowered his head, dejected.

“Now you know that isn’t how he would want you to look at it-”

“Doesn’t change the truth,” he replied. He scrunched up even further, hiding his head in his knees. “This is all my fault. I shouldn’t have let him get involved.”

“It’s not just your fault, Brother.” Al laid a hand on the blond’s shoulder.

“Neither of you could have seen this coming,” Becca said firmly. “The only one to blame is the one who murdered Hughes.” She shot a glare in Mustang’s direction. “Whoever they may be.”

Edward shook his head sorrowfully. “How am I going to explain this to Winry?”

The double doors swung open and a bearded man in scrubs approached them. Everyone stood. (Out of the corner of her eye, Becca noticed Mustang straighten up a little as well. Good.)

“Well, well, well, you sure did a number on her, didn’t you, Colonel?” the doctor said stonily, adjusting his glasses. “Have a bit of a grudge?”

“It’s been a while since I had free reign with my flames. I must have overdid it.”

Becca fought the urge to strangle him. It looked like Ed was struggling against the same impulse.

The doctor rolled his eyes. “‘Overdoing it’ is one way of putting it. I’d call it ‘making a doctor’s life significantly harder than it needs to be’. I couldn’t even tell if she was dead or alive while she burned, much less give a conclusive facial recognition.”

“So it might not be her?” Ed asked, head snapping up.

“No, it definitely is..”

The hope that had gleamed in his eyes extinguished itself.

“Her teeth were still intact enough for a positive ID from her dental records. That was Maria Ross. A shame a pretty girl like that had such an awful end. And a shame it was a supposed hero who did that to her,” he added, taking off the cap over his hair and traipsing off down the hall.

Armstrong coughed wetly, then turned to Mustang and, to Becca’s surprise, bowed perfectly straight at the waist. “Colonel Mustang,” he began. “I would like to apologize for- for the actions of my subordinate. Second Lieutenant Ross was-” He choked back a sob, but pushed on, breaking Becca’s heart more and more with every word, “kind and- and considerate- and humble- I never imagined she would- or that she could -”

The huge man broke down entirely, dropping heavily into his seat with a long, shaky breath, furiously wiping his eyes. Colonel Mustang, from what Becca could see of his side profile, didn’t bat an eye. In fact, he inspected his gloveless hand, picking something out of one of his nails.

“You ought to take a vacation, Major,” he suggested benignly. “I’ve heard the Eastern Desert is rather temperate this time of year. And who knows, you might meet some beautiful women.”

Becca’s stomach heaved. She gulped back a swell of revulsion and tried to let it not show on her face. The Elrics, however, were not as subtle. Both tightened up, shoulders rising nearly to their ears as they pushed down any foul words (or actions) they wanted to launch Mustang’s way, although Ed had to release the aggression on something and lashed out, kicking a nearby trash bin with an angry grunt.

“That’s enough, Fullmetal,” Mustang barked sharply. “If you’re going to behave like a child and make a mess for others to clean up, you are dismissed. Go back to the barracks.”

That order was the straw that broke the camel’s back and Ed waspishly snapped back, “Oh, look at big, bad Colonel Mustang, sending me to my room like some kid-”

His dark eyes glinted dangerously when he lowly commanded, “Now.”

“Ed,” Becca whispered, pulling on his sleeve, “let’s just go.”

“It’s not worth getting in trouble for, Brother,” Al tacked on.

Jaw tight, Ed turned on his heel and stalked down the hallway in the opposite direction without another word. Becca and Al fell into step at once before Mustang called, “Illusion, a word?”

Hardly for the first time, Becca panicked. Becca froze. Ed grabbed her hand and Al reached over to touch her shoulder. Grounding her.

I’m not alone, she told herself over and over as she forced out, “Yes, sir?”
He gave the Elrics a firm look. “I’ll rephrase- a word alone.”

“Whatever you can say to her, you can say to us,” Ed argued.

His gaze hardened again and he repeated, “ Alone.

Becca decided she really didn’t like the look in his eye and, as gently as she could, pried her hand out of Ed’s iron grip. When he gave her a questioning look, she dismissed him with a false confidence ringing in her tone, saying, “It’s alright, guys. Go find Winry. I’ll- I’ll meet you later. Go find Winry. Explain things.” She tried for a smile. “Go make sure she’s okay, right?”

Hesitantly, Ed raised his eyebrows, imploring her, but Becca rubbed his arm a few times, then patted Al’s chest, then shooed them both away. “I’ll catch up at our usual hotel, ‘kay?”

“Alright,” Ed said reluctantly. “We’ll see you later.”

Stepping back towards Mustang, she waved them off one more time, then turned to her superior, who gestured for Becca to come next to him.

“Walk with me.”

Chapter 28: whelve

Notes:

heyo, my dears!!!

once again, it's pretty late, but still thursday so i'm counting it! i'm travelling right now, so hopefully next update will be on time as well, but if not, i'm letting y'all know now that it'll be out as soon as possible, and i really don't want to put anything out for this arc if it's rushed because this is sooooo important to me.

in any case, i've been considering something: would you guys be interested in little side stories concerning becca and co if i wrote them? might be deleted scenes, random ideas that didn't fit in with the rest of the stories, prologues for some characters you might not have otherwise seen? if you all are interested, i should definitely be able to get one of those bad boys pumped out even while i'm travelling, so keep an eye out on the entire masterpiece verse series because i'll put it as a part two there so as to not interrupt the flow of the main story here.

that was my only business idea, so hop in and i hope y'all enjoy the torture i put my babies through!

whelve (verb)- to bury something deep, to hide

Chapter Text

“There’s no point in beating around the bush and frankly, we don’t have time,” Mustang said, leading Becca down the hallway at a deceptively casual pace. “Ross is alive.”

Becca scoffed. “ Great, now he’s delusional as well as murderous.”

“Watch your tone, Illusion,” Mustang snapped with a frown. “This was a set up. That’s the truth.”

Bitter anger cracked through her entire body like a whip. How dare he disrespect Ross like that, denying what he had done? “I don’t know if you were listening, but that doctor said he had dental identification. It’s over. This-” She waved up and down, gesturing to the colonel, “-better be some sort of weird defense mechanism to protect your ego because, if it’s not, I’ll sock you here and now, consequences be damned-”

“Harper, I will not warn you again-”

Her arm was suddenly clutched in a firm grip. She looked down to see Mustang’s fingers squeezing her bicep and, against her will, she noticed herself begin to quiver, though she couldn’t tell if it was from rage or the sudden wave of fear sprouting from speaking to him like that right now of all times. Her mouth clicked shut at once, in the same moment that she let her gaze fall away from him and down to the floor. Still determinedly not looking up at him, she heard him let out a long breath, then felt his hold on her slowly loosen.

“I am sorry for grabbing you,” he said haltingly, even though he didn’t quite sound like it in Becca’s opinion. (Honestly, he sounded more constipated.) “Now, will you please let me finish?”

She didn’t agree nor disagree, which Mustang apparently took as permission since he continued, “I am perfectly sane and I’m being serious; Lieutenant Ross is alive and- well, maybe not ‘well’, but she’s safe. My team is in the process of getting her out of the city.”

“How?” Becca croaked. “You can’t possibly just expect me to believe you, not that easily.”

“Not ever, or not after today?” he retorted, tone slightly lighter. Like he was making a joke. Odd. And Becca wasn’t quite sure how to answer, so she stayed quiet. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw his shoulders sag as he let out a long breath. “Alright, I understand. Not the time.”

“Explain.” She glanced up, making eye contact with him for a second before looking back down at the floor and adding, “Please.”

Mustang cast a cursory glance around them, then took her arm again, at least a little gentler this time, and ushered her into a side hallway. Fed up with all the secrecy and desperate for someone to give her some actual answers, Becca yanked her arm out of his grip and snapped, “For God’s sake, no one else is here! Get on with it!”

“Quiet down!” he retorted, although finally, after one last scan of their surroundings, he lowered his voice and began, “That night after Hughes… after they found him, I followed the trail of his blood back to the archives he’d been working on recovering since the First Branch of the library burned down. The room his staff said he’d been using and where the whole attack started was a mess of research, all concerning bloody incidents throughout this country’s history.”

“He was studying history and someone killed him because of it?” Becca clarified, confused. Meddling with Philosopher’s Stone research? Sure. The Fuhrer had already told them that there were people in the military who wouldn’t want that getting out. Normal history taught to Amestrian children? Those were just facts published in their history books.

“You think it was something other than history?”

“I- I don’t know, sir.”

His eyes narrowed doubtfully and he pressed, “Illusion, you need to be honest with me.”
I can’t, Becca thought, defiantly keeping her mouth shut. Even if Bradley hadn’t warned them to keep quiet, she couldn’t quite say if she would have spilled to Mustang. Whatever Hughes was researching, likely the Stone, had gotten him killed. And just because she was mad at the colonel didn’t mean she wanted him dead, especially if he was telling the truth about Ross. (And if he wasn’t, she didn’t exactly want him getting any closer to the brothers than he had to.)

However, her nonanswer seemed to only confirm Mustang’s suspicions. “It’s funny, Harper. Armstrong acted just like that when I asked him a similar question.”

She swallowed. “Interesting.”

“Indeed. We’ll return to that topic later, when we can’t be overheard.”

Shrinking in on herself, Becca nodded in agreement.

“Either way, I smuggled out as much of his research as I could,” Mustang went on, “but Hughes clearly knew whatever he was looking into could fall into the wrong hands because he didn’t write anything down, so I’ve been working backwards from what he’d already found. It’s been… difficult.”

“The Lieutenant Colonel- I mean, Brigadier General always seemed way sharper than he let on.”
“He was. He must have figured out something big right before they came for him- something pertaining to us. The military. His secretary said he was bleeding from two wounds in his shoulder but refused to use a phone in that building to call for help-”

“I thought they were saying he was killed by a single gunshot wound,” Becca interrupted.

“Those wounds weren’t mentioned in the autopsy,” Mustang said. “I won’t lie and say I knew Ross was being set up as soon as I heard about the arrest, but that was one of the first suspicious things I noted since I had already talked to all the witnesses who said he was bleeding before anyone reported hearing a shot.”

Becca hummed, biting her lip. “I see. And they said he didn’t want to use the phone bank to call-”

“Me.”

“Huh?”

“He was trying to call me. He did call me,” Mustang corrected himself, tugging at his hair. “I hadn’t been transferred here yet, so he wasn’t even calling for help. He must have deemed whatever he’d discovered more important than any type of medical attention since he only had those two non-fatal puncture wounds.

“It took too long for dispatch to get him through to me… I didn’t hear the gunshot but- but he wouldn’t respond to me when I called his name. I don’t even know if he heard that I was there. I could hear him, though. When he-” Mustang took a deep breath. “-Died.”

Slack-jawed, Becca whispered, “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head and when he spoke again, his voice was a little rougher. “I was moved here and started investigating on my first day, and that night, Lieutenant Hawkeye ran across Barry the Chopper in the street. He tried to spook her, but since she already knew Alphonse, when he pulled his little ‘pulling off his head’ bit, she just shot him and that sobered him up pretty easily.”

“‘Barry the Chopper’? That armour with Ross?”

“Always quick-witted, Illusion. Imagine the lieutenant’s surprise when she alluded to Al, though, and Barry immediately knew who she was referring to.” He gave her a stern look. “In the future, I would prefer that you include details such as ‘encountered two supposedly executed serial killers’ in your reports next time. I know it can get difficult to remember little things like that when you’re destroying government buildings. Care to explain?”

We didn’t destroy the building-” Becca protested, opting to keep the fact that it was actually three supposedly executed serial killers.

“Deflecting again. Is it the same reason Armstrong refused orders or just you three being brats?”

“You’ve got a good head on your shoulders, Colonel, what do you think?”

Mustang huffed and rolled his eyes. “It’s irrelevant. Barry filled us in on what he could and I expect we’ll be having a chat to iron out the rest sometime soon.”

She gulped. “Of course, sir.”

“We kept Barry under our supervision until today when we heard about Ross. He happened to see a newspaper Havoc brought and reminded us that Ross’s missing bullet was the one she fired at him. We knew someone was trying to frame her,” Mustang said, attitude darkening significantly. “Of course, I couldn’t let an innocent take the blame for this crime, but more than that, Hughes deserves justice , not some assholes trying to cover up a conspiracy.”

“Why are you telling me this?” she breathed.
He levelled his heavy, expectant gaze onto her. “Because you’re going to help us get it,” he said with no room for argument.

“I- huh?”

“Whoever’s framing Ross is probably the group who killed Hughes,” he said. “So we created a fake body, complete with a fake copy of her dental records to make it definitive and snuck her away-”

“Where is she?”

“That’s on a need to know basis,” he snarked. “And you do not need to know. I’m sure you’ll find out eventually. My getting involved in her case should signal to them that I’m looking deeper into his as well, which must go against their agenda. Hopefully, that means they’ll send someone to take me out and we’ll be able to flip the script on them.”

“You want to use yourself as bait?” she asked incredulously.

Mustang waved her surprise away. “More just the prospect of me. With the plan I have, I’ll hardly be in the field at all. They most likely have eyes on Barry since they were the ones who put him in that armour to begin with, so they’ll go after him and we’ll capture their agent from there.”

“Sir, with all due respect, I don’t think you really know what you’re messing with here-”

“And are you going to tell me?”

Teeth grit, Becca ground out, “You already know that I can’t .”

“Then, since you know so much more than me, I expect your help will be integral to making this plan work. And , since it’s you, keeping it a secret.”

She groaned, scrubbing her exhausted eyes, then running a hand through her hair. A pained whine leapt out of her throat. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Silence fell between them as the colonel as the colonel at least gave her a few moments to digest what he meant. Her voice was raspy when she finally murmured, “I can’t tell Ed and Al?”

“Do you or do you not keep a rather large secret from those two every damn day? This should be no different-”

“This is different!” she insisted.

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, they’re heartbroken, I can’t just-”

“You can and you will.”

“But-”

“Those two will just throw a wrench into my plan. Don’t act like this is so reprehensible when you already-”

“I may be a liar, but you are too, so don’t act like you have some moral high ground-”

“Enough!” A wild look shone in Mustang’s eyes as he practically pinned her in place with the firmness of his gaze. “Illusion, you are to keep this operation a secret from everyone, especially the Elric brothers, and that is an order! You will be court-martialed if you do not comply, do you understand?”

Becca blinked, her breath catching. 

“Yes, sir,” she mumbled after a second, shrinking back into the wall. Thankfully, he took a few steps back upon seeing the look on her face, and there might have even been a hint of regret in his expression. Becca swallowed, licking her dry lips before speaking. “But how am I supposed to- I just mean, I won’t be able to just sneak away- not after all this-”

“Fullmetal will be… taken care of,” Mustang said, visibly trying to calm down. “He’s going to be out of the picture completely, but Alphonse is a bit more difficult. Due to the nature of this mission, it’s harder to sneak him away without raising suspicion, so we’re hoping he’ll just stay in the hotel room and out of the way once you and Fullmetal aren’t there.”

Personally, Becca thought, she doubted that was likely, but she’d done enough speaking out of turn for the day and kept her thoughts to herself.

“Tomorrow, we’re getting Fullmetal out of here as early as possible. You’ll know the sign when it happens. Follow along with his escort until you can break away. Everything will be going down in Keller Plaza on the eastern edge of the city. If you don’t know where that is, find a map and get your ass there. Someone will point you to your position and you are to stay put once you find it. It should be obvious as we’ve already set up all the equipment you’ll need. When things start happening, my team will each have a radio transmitter in their ear. Hawkeye will have two. One will be attached to a phone line, which is then in contact with my direct office line. The other, which will be connected to everyone but me, will be in tune with a radio channel that you will be controlling. I want you to keep each party updated on what’s going on, as well as any other happenings you can see that others may not be able to. Unfortunately, we could only take one-way radios if we wanted to avoid any higher up’s notice, so no one will be able to communicate back to you, but you’re a smart kid, so I’m sure you can figure things out from context clues.

“We need to act quickly and strike while the iron is hot, hence why I’m convening with my team right after this to make sure there were no unexpected problems in phase one that could affect phase two,” he continued. “I’ll be in communication sometime tonight if one was and we need to switch a few details, so stay by the phone. If everyone plays their part and everything goes according to plan, we’ll have a member of the enemy under our thumb by tomorrow night.”

“Will I get any more helpful details in that phone call?” she asked dubiously.

Mustang smirked. “You’ll get any details that are necessary.”

Head spinning a little from all the new facts she was trying to make sense of, Becca nodded shakily. “I- I understand.”

Colonel Mustang hummed, at last, seemingly, satisfied. “Well then. If you don’t have any more questions, you’re dismissed,” he said, turning quickly over his shoulder and hustling back towards the main hallway, leaving Becca stock still behind him.

Like a good little soldier, a tiny voice within her mind whispered.

“Wait, sir?” she called out before she could stop herself.

Honestly, she would have expected her superior to just ignore her, given the shaky standing they found themselves in at the moment. She wasn’t sure she even wanted him to acknowledge her. But still, he stopped, clearly standing by so she could speak.

She coughed to clear her throat. “Why- why me? Out of the three of us, why did you choose me?”

Because I knew I could force you. Because you’re the most weak-willed, the one who does what she’s told because she has no other choice. Because you are the obedient follower you were always meant to be-

“Because I can trust you,” he said flatly, “and you were the best fit for what I needed.”

Her mind went blank and all she could do was pause. “Huh?”

The colonel sighed. “Leaders need cohorts they trust to follow them into battle,” he explained patiently. “It is up to them to recognize each of their compatriots’ strengths and weaknesses and coordinate plans based around them. Whether you like it or not, you, Fullmetal, and Alphonse are all a part of my inner circle, alongside the rest of my team, much like the generals are to the Fuhrer. You just happened to have the best skillset and temperament to make this plan come together.”

“I-” she stuttered, “you- you wanted-”

“Go get some rest, Illusion,” Mustang said, moving away again before she could decipher what that meant. “It’s going to be a busy day tomorrow.”

---

In a bit of a daze, still digesting whatever had just gone down, Becca admittedly wandered for a while, lagging up and down side streets with less than a goal in mind and just letting her feet fall where they may. A couple times, she knocked into another passerby, mumbled a quiet apology, and found her path completely changed by the way she’d stumbled after bumping them. Before she knew it, a few hours had passed and she steeled herself to finally find her way back to their lodgings and face the boys, no matter how painful it might be.

“Oh, Miss Harper! Welcome back to Central!”

When Becca said “usual hotel”, she meant “ usual ”, so she exchanged  a quick smile with the familiar young receptionist (if Becca wasn’t mistaken, her name was Rachel) and asked, “Thank you. Have you seen my companions?”

“The older Mr. Elric went to your room,” she supplied, “but the younger one was still in the cafe last I saw.”

So that means Al’s gone to the room and Ed’s still around here somewhere, she corrected fondly. No matter how many times they corrected the staff here, no one seemed to get the brothers’ birth order right. Even Ed had given up trying to get through to them, instead just sighing heavily every time he heard them.

She peeped into the sitting area, just in case Ed had moved, then made her way across the lobby, waving at the faces she recognized until she pushed the door to the dining room open. The head waiter, Norman, who they’d seen grow from a nervous youth at the beginnings of his career to a firm young man after Ed shouted down a rowdy customer who was harassing the staff, then turned right to the poor boy and shouted at him for not standing up for himself, greeted her with a worried look on his face.

“Becca, it’s good to see you again,” he said, leading her aside and towards a little table in the corner as he lowered his voice and warned, “Edward’s been in here a while and he seems a bit… down.”

He stepped away to reveal Ed slumped over in his chair, cheek resting on the surface of the table. If the gold of his irises weren’t shining in the low light underneath his lowered eyelids, he could have been mistaken for having fallen asleep, though Becca was sure his mind was running a million miles a minute. As it was, he still seemed pretty out of it.

“Thank you, Norman,” Becca said softly, patting him on the arm. “I’ll take care of him.”

Ed didn’t flinch when the chair next to him scraped against the floor, nor when Becca took a seat next to him. When she brushed his bangs off of his face with a murmured, “Ed?”, he at least twisted to look up at her, though his eyes were still rather glassy looking. “Hi.”

“Hey,” he mumbled.

“How long have you been down here?”

“Not too long,” he assured, sadness breaking through the shell of deep exhaustion he otherwise radiated. “We went by the Hughes’ to pick up Winry.”

“How long ago was that?” she prodded.

Ed checked his watch and, shame-faced, responded, “Few hours ago.”

Still carding her finger through the loose hairs around his face (and with a nod of thanks towards Norman when he dropped off two full glasses of water), she hummed sadly. “Are you okay?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Ah,” she whispered, then reassured, “that’s okay.”

Quietude settled over the pair until Ed said lowly, “What did the bastard want?”

The water Becca had just tried to take a sip of made a swift exit as she choked, totally taken off guard. At least getting caught in a coughing fit meant she had a few seconds to collect her thoughts and think of a quick lie that she managed to retch out while trying to breathe normally. “Just- debt stuff-”

Ed thumped her on the back a few times, eyes much wider than they had been since she’d arrived in concern. “Are you sure?” he asked urgently.

“Mmhmm!” she assured, gulping down some more to try and clear her throat. She coughed a few more times then, voice raspy, said, “Yeah. There were just a few issues at the bank he wanted to warn me about.”

“Oh.”

He sunk back down onto the surface of the table, somehow looking even more morose than when she’d sat down. “I always tell myself to keep moving forward,” he said hollowly. “But I don’t even know what we’re moving forward to anymore… or if it’s even worth it.”

That expression didn’t belong on Ed’s face-- ever. It was just too unlike him, not one of his many usual faces, be it angry, pensive, sad, ecstatic. Those were dynamic and contagious, no matter what else was going on. This was part dead eyes, part limp hair, and part weary posture, but all very, very wrong. Becca’s heart wrenched in her chest and she almost let everything spill, but memory of Mustang’s unbridled threat forced the words back down her throat.

But God, she hated lying to him.

Her mouth opened and she almost put her hand on Ed’s shoulder and he almost looked up at her and the truth almost tumbled out until-

“Winry just went to her room after we got back,” he said suddenly, sitting up ramrod straight. “She hasn’t eaten anything all day. I- I should take something up to her.”

Becca withdrew her hand like she’d been burned. Of course, she’d totally forgotten about Winry and Al. They didn’t even know . They were still in the dark- how dare she lament anything right now when Ed and Al and Winry were all suffering?

Stupid, she scolded herself. You’re the lucky one, Becca.

She swallowed thickly. “You should go be with her,” she said. “I’ll order something for all of us and meet you up there in a bit, but she needs you now.”

Ed nodded, a new, short-term purpose at least putting a hint of light back in his eyes. He stood up, then faltered, glancing unsurely down at her. She waved off the concern. “I’ll be up in a little bit, promise.”

He cast one more careful look in her direction, but obeyed after minimal shooing away. Becca stubbornly ignored the slight licks of persistent jealousy curling up in her stomach like a snake at the thought of Ed wrapping his arms around Winry, soothing her while she sat here and wallowed- who did she think she was, wallowing at a time like this? And over Winry, who had firstly, already expressed that her and Ed’s relationship wasn’t like that and secondly, was her friend ?

Shaking her head in disgust with herself, Becca gestured for a waiter and placed a large order, then, much like Ed had moments before, sagged down onto the table, rubbing eyes to ward off any unwelcome tears.

---

Eating alone was hard, Becca decided, pushing her bowl away and giving up after a few feeble bites. She’d sent pork chops upstairs to the room, but opted for giving herself a little more time to think (and give Ed or Al the chance to pick up a call from Mustang so he could tell them everything before she had to) and stayed in the dining room, thinking she’d be able to stomach a meal alone.

As it turned out, she couldn’t. Not after the events of the day.

“Would you like that soup boxed up, Miss?” a waitress Becca didn’t know asked. Must have been new.

She shook her head, then reconsidered, biting her lip. “Actually, do you mind?”

“Of course not,” she said lightly. “I’ll bring a to-go cup with your check.”

When she reappeared, setting the items down, Becca gave her a soft thanks, then left a pile of cash (a hefty tip for the young woman-- she might as well do some good tonight to make up for everything else) and took the remaining three quarters of her meal (she told herself she'd finish it later. In the back of her mind, she knew that was just another lie). She hovered by the back door for a moment before stepping out into the back alley for a quick breath of fresh air.

Almost immediately, something clattered against the metal trash cans. Her head whipped around to the sound, shoulders tightening, only to see a little boy sprawled on his back. He was up on his feet in a moment, though, and snarling, curling protectively around a wrapped bundle in his arms.

"What-?"

"None of your business!"

"Brother!" a smaller, exasperated voice chastised. A second child crawled out from under a few abandoned planks of wood and shoved the older one out of the way, bowing slightly in Becca's direction, frantically apologizing, "I'm very sorry, Miss, he didn't mean it-"

Becca held out her hands in surrender, kneeling down to the kids' level and sitting back on her heels. "Whoa there," she soothed at once. "What are you two doing back here?"

The siblings shared a look, a clear conversation going on that Becca wasn't quite privy too, although she could make some easy assumptions. The older one groaned, but gave in to the younger and shyly offered his pack to her. Becca unwrapped it, fingers careful to be gentle as she did, revealing a few food items, each a little roughed up, but largely still good. Becca's face fell.

"They throw out a lot," the boy said defensively.

"I know," she replied, still looking down at what she could only assume was to be the children's dinner. She turned her gaze up, scanning between the two. The younger one especially seemed to be holding their breath as they waited for her reaction. She blinked and a blonde pair of brothers flashed in their place. Another blink and they were replaced by a blonde haired brother and his dark haired little sister. She shook her head, mind made up.

Holding out the travel cup of soup, she motioned them forward assuringly with a little, "Here. I don't think I'm going to finish it, so someone should."

The brother scurried forward, snatching the warm meal like he was worried she'd take it away if he hesitated too long. The other child pried the lid off, their face relaxing as they took a deep breath and inhaled the savoury scent. While she watched, the siblings devoured the food, one taking several long sips while the other stared Becca down in case she made a move.

"How about you guys come inside?" Becca offered on a whim after they'd finished.

Both kids' heads snapped up, one suspicious, one hopeful. The older one narrowed his eyes and questioned, "You wanna call someone on us? Some truancy officer or somethin'?"

"No!" she protested, sitting up a little too quickly, since they flinched away. Becca froze, then, slowly, moved away to give them some space. "No," she repeated quieter. "I'm sure they have some odd jobs in there… if you want any more dinner. And I'll speak to someone about loaning you a room for a little while." That time, even the younger kid bit their lip and she hurried to reassure, "They're very kind, I'm sure they won't mind-"

"Why?" the littlest asked.

"Hm?"

"Why do you wanna help us?"

Becca faltered. "I- I mean, it just doesn't seem right to leave you out here if I'm going to go in and sleep in a warm bed- if you don't have anywhere else-"

"Fine," the older one said decisively. "But we're leaving tomorrow."

"Alright," Becca said with a shrug, her joints popping as she stood back up. "Let's go get you set up."

As soon as the elderly cook, Ms. Di Fiore, saw the children enter the kitchen, she was upon them, chattering in her native Aerugian like she often did when Becca or the boys didn't eat enough to satisfy her and, if Becca had to guess by the older woman's frustrated gestures and her own rudimentary Aerugian, probably admonishing Becca for the children's skinny frames. She smiled guiltily, but the little ones eyes widened upon hearing Ms. Di Fiore, right before they responded in the same tongue.

Ms. Di Fiore paused, mouth dropping open. As Becca watched, surprised tears welled up in her eyes at the same time a bright grin overtook her face and she spoke even more excitedly, the children matching her energy more and more each second. Trusting they would be taken care of with the cook, Becca turned to find Norman, then shrieked as she realized he'd snuck up and was already next to her.

"Sorry," she breathed, hand clutching her chest. "I didn't-"

"Don't worry about it," he waved her off. He smiled fondly over at the newly formed trio. "Did you know she hasn't gotten to speak to a natural Aerugian speaker since she crossed the border decades ago? She always intended to go back but the war picking back up made it too dangerous."

"How do you think they got over here?" Becca pondered.

"Who knows? All I know is that foreigners aren't exactly treated well around this country," Norman said sadly. Becca thought of Ling, who'd apparently gotten arrested almost as soon as he stepped foot in Central, and hummed thoughtfully. "That's probably why they were out there by themselves."

"About that-"

He held up a hand. "They keep making Ms. Di Fiore smile like that and they can stay as long as they want. She'll keep them busy."

"Thank you," she said once more, "really, Norman. For everything."

"Never a problem for you three." He patted her shoulder. "Goodnight, Becca."

"Goodnight," she called as he walked away, then she made her way back over the kids.

" Gratzi , Miss," the younger one said happily, bouncing on their toes. " Signora Di Fiore says she'll let us help her in the kitchen and take care of us if we promise to do our best!"

Ms. Di Fiore gave the older one a gentle but stern look and he gave a gruff, "Yeah, thanks. We'll be good."

The cook pulled her close and wrapped her bony arms around Becca's shoulder, whispering, "Thank you, Becca."

"I'm glad it worked out," she said humbly, bowing to all three of you. "I hope you guys'll stick around."

"Me too!" the younger chirped.

She pet the child's hair down, patting their cheek. "Goodnight…?"

"Alessi," they filled in.

 "Goodnight, Alessi and-"

"Walter," the boy said.

Whatever Becca was going to say halted in her throat and she had to stop a chuckle from the coincidence. "...Very well. I'll see you both in the morning."

With varying levels of enthusiasm, each sibling sent her off with a similar sentiment, then fell back into conversation with Ms. Di Fiore. The smile didn't waver from Becca's face until she reached their suite of rooms. The lights were off in all the bedrooms and, when she poked her head into Winry's, she was fast asleep in bed and Ed was passed out on the chair next to it. Al was nearby, watching over them, and Becca waved to him, but pantomimed brushing her teeth before she closed the door so he wouldn't follow her.

She did brush her hair and teeth, changing into pajamas, but rather than join the others, she sank down onto the couch in the living room, staring at the phone.

Time ticked by, and once, Al's clanging footsteps forced her to feign sleep as he stood in the doorway. She could feel his eyes on her and hoped he'd assume she just accidentally fell asleep out there and, luckily, after observing her for a few moments, he shuffled back to Winry's room.

Mere minutes later, the phone sounded. Becca picked it up before it got through one ring, whispering, "It's Harper."

"Illusion," Mustang said from the other line. "Good. Can you be overheard?."

"No, sir," she mumbled.

With that assurance, Mustang didn't waste any time. "Listen carefully. We've had some unexpected allies join us. Mostly, they're helping Ross escape, but two will be around tomorrow. Xingese, one will be distinctly masked but they'll try to stick together."

Masked? 

"Ling?" Becca asked. "And his guards? They're helping?"

"Good God," he said, eye roll audible. "Of course you already know them. Whatever. I suppose that's good, though. Just know that they're on our team and don't freak out when you see them, yes?"

"Yes, sir. Is that all?"

"Everything else should happen as planned, just with some extra support."

"Understood."

"Then you have all the information you need. Goodnight, Illusion."

Becca opened her mouth, but couldn't bring herself to return the farewell. Instead, almost on autopilot, she just hung up the phone. Then the shame that had almost dissipated with the interactions downstairs returned even more intensely, and she folded over, head in her hands and shoulders shaking with suppressed nerves and a few guilt-ridden sobs.

---

Trying to act normal when she woke up turned out to be a little too easy for Becca, despite the self-loathing rolling in her stomach. After waking up later than normal due to their late, stressful night, Winry and Al had taken up residence in one corner with polish and a rag and Ed had resorted to taking over Becca’s spot on the couch to brood while she sat on the floor with an open book. If anyone noticed it took several more minutes than usual to flip the pages or that she was scrubbing at her eyes and nose an absurd amount, they didn’t mention it.

“You know, you never look too roughed up when I first see you, Al, but then the closer I look, the more scratches I see,” Winry contemplated aloud. “This journey of yours has got to be pretty hard, huh?”

When Al was the only one to respond and even he only gave a feeble chuckle, she sighed, then asked, “Any ideas on what you’re gonna do next?”

“No idea.” Ed rolled onto his back, stretching both arms up towards the ceiling. “What do you think?”

“You want my opinion?”

“Yeah? What’s weird about that?”

“Well, you’ve just never asked for it before!” the girl said defensively.

Normally, Ed would have gotten defensive right back, possibly fired some smartass comment and set off a round of bickering. Instead, he stared at her disbelievingly, then thought for a moment, and seemingly came to some sort of realization. “I see,” he said slowly. He turned fully over to her, eyes dull with disappointment, be it at the situation or himself. “So?”

“Well, honestly, I’d love it if you guys would just stop travelling altogether.”

Ed sat up quickly, about to protest, but Winry cut him off, “I hate thinking about how you could all just disappear; how you could all die someday and I- I wouldn’t be able to do anything. But then, when you told Ms. Gracia that you were going to give up your quest to get your bodies back-”

“You did what?” Becca said, bewildered.

“-And I realized that’s not what I want at all,” Winry steamrolled on. “Both of those are my true feelings so… so I guess I’m not very much help either. Sorry…” she said with a wince.

“It’s-” Ed said gruffly, flopping back down onto his other side, “-fine.”

“Thanks for being so kind to us during all this, Winry,” Al said. “It means a lot.”

“What do you mean ‘during all this’?” she demanded, feigning offense and waving the bottle of polish threateningly. “I’m always kind to you!”

The pair giggled, but their infectious joy didn’t spread to the other two in the room. Ed had gone still, his chest rising and falling being the only sign he hadn’t spontaneously turned into some sort of statue and Becca was still reeling from the sudden announcement that the brothers had considered cutting their losses and jumping ship and she wasn’t even there to help talk them out of it , wholly abandoning her book and just leaning against the wall, eyes closed, although they flew open when they all heard a thunderous knock on the door.

Eyes suspicious, Al and Winry quickly quieted down and turned to Ed for guidance. He didn’t flinch, though, so Becca got up and pulled the door open, an inquisitive greeting barely past her lips when Alex Louis Armstrong stormed past her and towards the Edward Elric-shaped lump on the bed.

“Major!” Al said, surprise evident in his voice.

“What do you want-” Ed started.

And then the large man drew his arm back and punched Ed in the shoulder hard . The automail limb popped out of place with a heavy clunk and Becca’s eyes widened. Fullmetal will be taken care of.

Real subtle, Mustang, she thought ruefully, resisting the urge to scoff.

The other three teens were all taken aback, speechless, until Ed’s face reddened and he yelled, “What =was that for?!”

Heedless of Ed’s strenuous objections, Armstrong bent down to examine his right side, tutting, “Oh, dear, oh, dear, I seem to have broken your automail, Edward Elric! This will not do at all!” He slung Ed over his broad shoulder as he kicked wildly, shouting to be put down with every movement, but it didn’t phase the major, who just pointed at Becca and made a ‘come here’ motion with his finger, then at Al and barked, “You may come as back up, Rebecca Harper, but you must stay here, Alphonse, for it is too difficult to get you to Resembool alongside us, do you understand?”

Casting a nervous look over at the others, Becca nodded shakily.

“Resembool?!” Ed argued.

“But Winry’s right here-” Al pointed out.

“We must arrange the train at once!” Armstrong said firmly, carrying a squirming Edward out of the room. Becca hopped after him, tugging on her shoes without lacing them and then sprinting to catch up. Ed continued to rage the whole way through the lobby (making Alessi and Walter, observing the bellboys for the morning, giggle behind their hands), to the train station (making the other patrons stare), and up until Armstrong placed him into a seat. The whole time, Becca kept her hands clasped behind her back, hustling to keep up with the major’s larger strides. He had exchanged one deliberate nod with her when Ed was readjusting his coat and smoothing down his hair to maintain a little bit of dignity and she stood back up, edging back towards the stairs of their car.

“Would you please tell me what the hell you’re thinking?” he demanded, glaring up at Armstrong.

The major swivelled towards the window. In his reflection, Becca could see his eyes surveying the platform for threats, anyone who might be watching them to report back to their enemies. Contemplatively, he just responded, “Soon.”

With a long whistle, the metal wheels of the train whined and the engine began pulling away from the station. Becca took a deep breath, then a step closer to the door. She stepped down one stair. This was the moment she had to time exactly right. If he noticed her move or she hopped off too early, Ed would be on his feet, knowing something was off and ready to follow her in a second. If she tried too late, she’d either get stuck or get seriously injured. While Ed continued to pester Armstrong, she carefully descended stair after stair until she could slide the door back open and felt the wind beginning to pick up, tousling her hair.

“And how could you just leave Al, you know how hard yesterday was-”

Ready…

She tightened her grip on the handle outside the train, preparing to swing out.

“Not to mention how stupid this trip is when Winry’s my actual mechanic and she’s already in town-”

Set…

“Right, Bex?”

One foot out into the open air.

Go!

“Bex?”

Not allowing herself to look backwards because she knew one look at his confused face would freeze her, keep her stock still and she couldn’t afford to do that, not now, Becca leapt from the rapidly speeding up car, hanging in the air for a second before she hit the ground and her knees buckled, sending her careening to the ground. She heard Ed shout her name once more, more urgent this time, but still didn’t turn around as she dragged herself up and dusted herself off, swallowing thickly.

She ran.

Like an obedient little soldier, she ran.

Chapter 29: eccedentesiast

Notes:

hi hi my dears!!!

not tons of time for a note because i gotta go on for the opening night of a show i'm doing so real quick: long chapter, i like to think its a good one, real excited, and theoretically the next one should be the last angsty one for a hot minute okay enjoy the chapter byeeeeeee

eccedentesiast (noun)- someone who hides pain behind a smile

Chapter Text

Could Mustang have picked somewhere closer to the station if he knew he was going to be putting Ed on a train? No, of course not. Because why would he want to make her life any easier?

Shaking off the bitterness, Becca reasoned that, in fairness, she knew Keller Plaza to be as secluded as Central City could offer and thus imperative to the safety of the general populace if things went south, which, despite Mustang’s confidence from the night before, they probably would. After a brief pause to tie her boots properly, she set off once more, not in a dead sprint, but at least a jog, hopping down the stairs of the station and dodging civilians at every step. Heart pounding, stomach churning, and only focused on the pounding of her feet on the pavement, she wove through the crowd of main street, then veered off into the backstreets and alleyways she’d come to know intimately since her certification.

The turns blurred together as she ran, stopping once or twice to get her bearings and readjust direction slightly, but when she popped out of the alleys only a few block from the meet-up point, she allowed herself to lessen her pace to more of a speedy walk, trying to control her breaths before she could be overheard by anyone who might question her.

Alright, she thought, pressing her hand into her chest. Calm down. Breathe.

She leaned back against the wall, hunching over, hands on her knees, and opted to attempt to organize her thoughts.

Item one: She’d located Keller Plaza on a map last night and it was fairly far away, so first things first, she had to get there.

Item two: Seek out someone (she hoped for a familiar face) to guide her to her assigned spot for the ambush.

Item three: Hope everything went according to plan.

Item four: If things didn’t go to plan, hope she’d make it out mostly unscathed.

Item five: Grovel to the boys and pray they’d take her back.

Somehow, that list didn’t help as much as she’d wanted it to. Becca groaned, pressing the heels of her hands into her eye sockets.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding,” Becca said, hardly daring to turn her head upwards. But she had to, and she did, and she edited her mental to-do list accordingly.

Item one: Deal with her murderous older brother. Adjust other items accordingly.

For staring down at her, eyebrows raised, was Will. His nose was still crooked from their last encounter and if the circumstances were different, she might have expressed some concern. Instead...

“Can we do this another day?” she asked tiredly.

Will paused, then, indignant, demanded, “Are you serious?”

“Dead serious,” she defended. “I do not have time for this today.” She turned away, only to get jerked back as Will grabbed her wrist, tugging her off of her path. Becca snarled and pulled it back, though she couldn’t break through his iron grip. “Get off of me!”

Scowling, her brother only squeezed harder, brought his other hand up to cover her mouth, then hoisted her up off the ground, a position that, after Roa kidnapping her and Al a few days ago, she was getting quite sick of. However, she wasn’t going to let something like that happen again, not when she had a mission and was under threat. This time, when she flailed and kicked (and screamed, though it was muffled by his hand), her heel connected with his gut and Will gagged, grip loosening enough that Becca slipped out and landed in a crouched position in the gutter. Within the second of her escape, she took off, headed deeper into the back alleys.

“You are not getting away from me that easily, you brat !”

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this!” she said over her shoulder, maybe some small attempt at a joke. “I thought we were on better terms after last time!”

“That was a mistake-- a moment of weakness, and it won’t happen again!”

“Are you sure about that?”

Hearing an animalistic howl of rage only made her run faster, although she could hear pounding footsteps leap into motion after her. Becca tried to catch her breath, looking skyward as if someone up there might actually be looking out for her for once, then, of course, her toes caught on a stray stone and she stumbled, splaying out on her front. Behind her, she heard a loud thud in the same moment that a blossom of pain bloomed over her leg.

Instinctively, she flipped onto her back and kicked her foot out, missing a solid hit on the hand Will had thrown out when he’d tripped over her fallen form, but knocking his shoulder and nearly nicking his face.

“Trying to break my nose again?” he taunted, scrabbling himself closer.

Wordlessly, Becca scrambled to her feet, stomping as she pitched forward, then heard a series of cracks and a grunt of discomfort. Her stomach dropped and she gingerly picked her foot up to see Will’s fingers, twisted and mangled, under her boot.

Her heart filled with unwitting guilt, Becca whispered, “Will, I- I’m sorry-”

“Bitch!” he shouted, rolling over and pushing himself up with his other hand. She swore there were pained tears in his eyes that he blinked away until rage took their place. He staggered towards her, uninjured fist clenched, and lunged toward her. Becca lurched away and dodged his wild thrashing. She grabbed his wrist, twisting him away from her, and trying to shove him away.

“Please, just go! Get out of here!”

“Hell no!”

He wiggled free, whirled around, and finally got a punch on Becca, sending her reeling and bringing a hand up to her cheek. When she drew it away, a steady drip of blood followed, some already marking her skin, with a matching stain joining the older ones on Will’s rings.

“Always the damn rings with you, huh?” she grumbled, scrubbing the sleeve on her palm across her face to dissuade some of the pricks of pain from spreading further around her cheek. Glancing around, she knew no one was coming to help her-- there were no civilians this far away from the main roads, no one knew where she was and, unless Mustang got pissed enough at her to put the rest of his plan at risk to come hunt her down, he wasn’t going to appear and save her from Will again like he had all those months ago. Becca turned back to him, gray eyes clashing with blue as she stared him down.

Something in her demeanor must have shifted because Will grinned wolfishly, straightening up fully and shaking out his shoulders.

“I’m done running from you,” Becca shouted, sounding much braver than she felt, “and- and I’m ending this, today!”

“Are you now?” he said, smirking, as he raised his fists.

Although she thought about it, she didn’t respond verbally, instead opting to let the ensuing combat do the talking.

Or perhaps… she thought, her lips curving into a considerate pout. In the back of her mind, she mapped out the few streets they’d already travelled, comparing them to her planned route. If she could get Will to follow her around these next couple lefts, then… yes, one way or another, that would be the end of all of it. He’d gotten lucky twice, but this third time had to be her charm.

She turned tail and ran.

Will cackled. “Ending it today?” he demanded mockingly.

“Mm-hmm,” she affirmed under breath, wheeling around corner after corner.

Admittedly, Becca did not take into account how she’d already run a mile from the train station and her brother was coming into their confrontation assumedly fresh. She panted for breath and caught the sounds of him catching up to her. She whirled around, reaching for an abandoned piece of trash to throw, and heard the tell-tale shink! of a blade being drawn before a burst of sudden pain slid across her arm.

A gasp tore through her throat and she managed to fling a stray can into Will’s head before clutching at her bicep. Her immediate evaluation was only slightly reassuring; the wound seemed shallow and in a non-fatal place, but now that she knew he was armed, she couldn’t let him get another strike.

“The rings aren’t my only weapon,” he said, breathless but with pride evident in his expression, “and I’ve found out that I’m good with blades.”

“Good for you,” she hissed through her teeth, picking up the pace again. Just a few more streets and then-

She burst out of the shadows and into the street, feet striking the stones as she wove around this person and that. A few were knocked over or shouted after her, but she didn’t have time to go back and help. A few times, she felt fingers, Will’s or someone else trying to get her to stop, that she shook off. As she rounded that final corner, the only thought permeating her mind was that Mustang’s gonna kill me if I’m late.

Speak (or think, she supposed) of the devil, the colonel himself was chatting chipperly in the same place they’d met him yesterday, albeit without his faithful lieutenant by his side. That scene in and of itself felt uncomfortably wrong, so, Becca consoled herself, when Mustang looked in her direction and frowned, at least that was normal.

“Illusion, you’re supposed to be in Keller-”

“Would you rather I bring him with me?” she demanded, waving backwards just as Will burst through the crowd of pedestrians.

Glancing around turned out to be a mistake. Her brother was clearly blinded with rage and laser-focused on her. Becca froze under his feral gaze, muscles locking no matter how much she tried to move them.

Someone grabbed Becca and she found herself facing Mustang’s back. He snapped and, before she could stop herself, she jumped forward, pulling his arm down so the bolt of flame shot down onto the pavement instead of striking Will, sending smoke billowing over him instead.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Mustang shouted. 

“You can’t kill him!” she retorted desperately. “Just- just arrest him!”

He rolled his eyes. “Oh, for the love of-”

Regardless, Mustang only sighed heavily rather than aiming to snap again, then signalled over his shoulder for the other soldiers, who’d been standing, too stunned at the interruption to their time off to really react until prompted, behind him to advance.

“Coward!” Will screamed from within the black cloud. “Don’t you dare hide behind anyone!”

At Mustang’s instruction, the men spread out, surrounding the soot cloud without complaint, though their apprehensive faces betrayed their wariness to approach the spiraling Harper.

“William Harper, you are under arrest,” Mustang called stoically, raising his voice only enough to be  heard by the man he was addressing as the ash finally drifted to the ground. “Come quietly and you won’t be harmed. Continue to resist and we will use the necessary force to apprehend you.”

Will looked around, forced to decide whether or not she was worth fighting an entire squad of army men for. Slowly, he raised his hands over his head, glowering as the soldiers surged forward to grab him and pull his arms behind him.

“Careful with him,” the colonel barked. “We lost him last time, do not let it happen again. I want eyes on him at all times. Take him down to the holding cells and-” He glanced down at Becca and promised, “-and I’ll deal with him later.”

Swallowing thickly, Becca nodded, averting her eyes from Will being herded away. For once, he was silent, apparently cowed by Mustang, or simply done fighting a losing battle. If either was the case, she couldn’t blame him. Still, her gut clenched when she thought of her brother spending the rest of his life in a prison cell because of his (arguably justifiable, in her eyes) wish for revenge on the child who’d destroyed his family. But she’d beg for mercy on his behalf later. At that moment, she mumbled, “I’m sorry for the trouble sir.”

“Are you alright?” he asked tiredly, hardly sparing her a stray look.

“I- huh?”

Mustang turned fully, for some reason seeming like he was about one more hesitant answer away from bending down to her level like he was speaking to a toddler. “You’re looking significantly less worse for wear than you have after the last few confrontations with your brother, but still, are you hurt?”

“Calm down, I’m fine,” she said, resolute, and determinedly shifted her arm away from his view. “I’ve got a job to do.”

However, she didn’t do a good enough job of concealing the injury, since the colonel objected, “Illusion, your arm-”, wide eyes sweeping over her bicep.

Her head snapped to the cut where blood was steadily soaking through her jacket sleeve. Looking at it brought the pain straight to the front of her mind, pushing past the adrenaline that had kept her going, and she forced herself to look away while putting pressure on the wound with her opposite hand.

“I’ll wrap it in something when I get there,” she dismissed, keeping her tone as even as possible. 

“Harper-!” Mustang interjected.

“I’m only doing what’s necessary! And you’re- you're not my dad! You're not supposed to worry about me! I don't need you to worry about me! I can take care of myself!” Becca snapped, whirling around and speed walking away. “I’ll see you after this is all over, Colonel. Good luck.”

If he called out again, Becca blocked it out, too busy recalculating the fastest route to the plaza. The further she got from Central HQ, the quicker her steps got until she was running again, ducking back into the alleys as she went.

---

“Becca!”

Fuery’s bespectacled, babyish face popped out of a window high above Keller Plaza, waving furiously as if she hadn’t heard his shout. She raised a hand in acknowledgement, and he instructed, “Wait right there! I’ll come to you!” Becca flashed a thumbs up right before he disappeared back into the building.

Pressing a hand to her racing heart, Becca took the moment to deliberately slow her breathing. A door on the side of the tower banged open and Fuery scurried out, all bright eyes and frantic energy as he chattered, “We were starting to get worried that something had happened and you weren’t coming, but the colonel just radioed us a few minutes before you got here and said you were impeded and now on your way, but he also said you might need help with your arm.” He gestured her forward with a, “Here, everything’s set up for you this way.”

Becca followed him obediently, quietly. Fuery gave her an odd look, then filled the silence himself. “Colonel Mustang sounded kind of funny on the phone. Like, stilted, you know?”

At that, she swallowed thickly and asked, “Like he was angry?”

“No, more like… worried,” Fuery replied casually, pulling out a key whilst they approached a tower on the opposite side of the plaza. She didn’t immediately see the corresponding door, though, and it was only when the sergeant nudged a stack of wooden crates aside that the wood was revealed and Fuery inserted the key into the old lock. “I’m sure he was just concerned about this all going according to plan.”

Becca blanched. “Um… yeah. Probably. Especially since I was running late.”

“But you’re here now!” Fuery chirped as he guided her inside and shut the door firmly behind her. “I’ll give you a crash course on how to work everything, but then I have to get back to my spot. I’ll make sure your arm’s alright before I go.”

She nodded quickly as they started a long climb up an old, rickety spiral staircase. “Understood.”

The staircase creaked beneath their feet and Becca flinched. In the back of her mind, she tried to suppress the knowledge that that particular feature would make for a nearly impossible escape route, should it become necessary, especially if an attacker used it as an entrance. At least, she tried to comfort herself, she’d definitely hear someone coming and have a few moments to prepare a counterattack, even if she’d really become more of a sitting duck at that point.

Surprisingly, that didn’t ease her nerves very much.

Fuery seemed to sense her discomfort despite her trying desperately to swallow it down and, when they reached the top landing, he soothed, “On my way out, I’m gonna replace everything that was blocking the door so as long as you stay out of sight, no one’ll know you’re up here and you’ll be perfectly safe.” 

After leading her over to a broken-down desk against the front wall, all the technology already set up on top of it, he pointed to the window directly in front of her and added, “Plus, you’ve got backup right there-” He pointed across the square at the tower next to the one he’d come out of, “-so go ahead and signal if you need help. Now sit, sit.”

Fuery explained her job in much clearer detail than Mustang had, gesturing to each piece of equipment she’d need as he did. First, he showed her the radio, already tuned to their specific channel, and the matching headset. He showed off his matching earpiece- wireless, but with a small antennae protruding from it and stretching barely above the shell of Fuery’s ear. He pointed out each team member’s current location. Becca committed them to memory-- Fuery himself would be in the same tower he came from with similar tools to Becca and Hawkeye’s dog, Black Hayate, Hawkeye was in the tower parallel to hers, the one Fuery had referred to as her backup, should it be needed, Havoc was lurking around, lying in wait until he was needed, and Falman was within one of the single-floor buildings, which, Fuery identified as abandoned military offices, with Barry the Chopper and, Becca was surprised to learn, Lan Fan. He hadn’t been told where Ling was, just that he was hovering around.

“In terms of your actual responsibility, Colonel Mustang said he gave you a run-down last night?”

“Mmhmm. ‘Keep each party updated on what’s going on’,” she quoted.

“Exactly. We’re using a code, since Lieutenant Hawkeye is in direct communication with the colonel via his phone line. You know military lines are bugged and we can’t exactly block off a channel on the radio,” he explained, “so as far as anyone listening will know, military or citizen, we’re in a restaurant. You’re ‘Bella’. You might not hear it, but that’s what we’ll be calling you if we need to refer to you on our side, like if we need to send someone to help you. Hawkeye is ‘Elizabeth’. Falman, ‘Vanessa’; Havoc, ‘Jacqueline’; and I’m ‘Kate’. Try to stay within that theme as best as you can as you speak. Use ‘customer’ instead of ‘opponent’, ‘table’ rather than actual locations, you get it. I’ll be relaying and responding to any messages that need my attention, so it’s imperative that even if you want to get down from here and go help, you sit tight. You just report who needs help and where and I’ll take care of it.”

Twisting a stray strand of hair around her finger, Becca let go of the curl and watched out of the corner of her eye as it sprang back up to avoid Fuery’s painfully earnest gaze. “Of course.”

Nevertheless, Fuery shot her a sweet smile and patted her on the arm. “I was nervous during my first mission too,” he said. “But we look out for each other on this team. We’ve all got your back.”

“Right. I- I know.”

“Good,” he said, pulling out a small first aid kit from his pocket and drawing Becca’s arm towards him. “Let’s take care of this quickly then.”

Becca shrugged her jacket off, setting it aside, then finagled her arm out of her long sleeve and through the collar, wincing the entire time. Fuery cringed in sympathy when he had to tug out the bloody threads that had become stuck in the wound and she hissed through her teeth, then again when he wiped it with a strip of gauze soaked in antiseptic. However, he made quick work of wrapping a length of bandages around her bicep, then stood up fully and clapped her on the shoulder reassuringly after she’d put her clothes back on correctly.

“There you go! Are you ready for this?”

She gave him a shaky smile. “I think I have to be. Thanks for patching me up.”

“I’ll see you on the other side,” he said, starting his way back down the stairs.

“See you,” she replied with a wave.

Once his footsteps had faded from the building and she heard the scraping of the boxes outside being moved back into place stopped, she placed her headset and microphone over her ears.

“Good morning, team,” she said as a means of testing her setup, eyes tracking Fuery as he hustled back across the plaza. She waited until he grinned up at her to relax a little and settle down in her seat. Sighing quietly, she murmured, “Let’s do this.”

---

It was lonely, Becca decided. She’d known going into this operation that she wouldn’t be getting updates like those she’d be giving, but half an hour or so went by with only her own breathing and heartbeat as company and she was ready to give up twirling her hair and start ripping it out when she caught some movement out of the corner of her eye. She sat up straighter, leaning towards the window.

“Kate, Elizabeth,” she said, watching the hunched man with a shock of blonde hair creeping near the wall of the other two towers where the Lieutenant and the Sergeant almost certainly wouldn’t notice him, “you’ve got a stray customer wandering between your tables. He seems…” She considered her words carefully, then settled on, “...inebriated. I’d recommend keeping an eye on him.”

The area stayed silent, but the figure continued to shuffle towards the old military offices. Reporting once more, Becca added, “He’s on his way to Vanessa’s section.”

Within a minute, a second, dark clothed figure joined the first, slinking into the office building almost before Becca had noticed him. If Fuery hadn’t warned her that she wouldn’t recognize Havoc, she might have gotten spooked.

Oddly, the man left in the square paused and sniffed the air like a dog, head swivelling back and forth. He ultimately stuck to his path towards Falman, Havoc, Lan Fan, and Barry, so Becca kept her eyes stuck to him as he went down to all fours and made his way into the building.

She still nearly jumped out of her skin when shots fired moments later. “Vanessa and Jacqueline, if you need a hand with that horrible, rowdy man,” she said, hoping to even out her quivering voice, “Elizabeth is available whenever you get her attention.”

As she watched, the glass doors slammed open, shattering in the process. The foursome poured outside, but Lan Fan bounded off immediately, apparently searching for someone else. Falman came across as distinctly nervous even from her distance. He looked around like he was expecting to face an army, then looked confused when the plaza was nearly empty. The other man burst through a window, though he seemed unphased by what had to be an immense shock of pain. Becca heard him snarl, as well as Havoc shouting something as he threw one empty handgun  aside and pulled a second out of a side holster.

The second gun fired a few times.

“Elizabeth!” she alerted, just in case. “Whenever you have a second-”

Then it jammed.

“Elizabeth!”

More popping rang through the air and bullets flew. The man shrieked. Havoc visibly relaxed, turning to Hawkeyes tower and grinning, then quickly focused on fixing his gun before the man got back up.

Barry tilted his head, studying the feral man intently. He flailed excitedly and waved his meat cleaver (who had let him hold onto that thing?) in excitement. She could hear his echoey voice, although she couldn’t make out the actual words, before he burst out into loud cackles and lunged at the other and had to be restrained by Falman while Havoc kept holding off the wild blonde.

“Kate or Elizabeth, Jacqueline and Vanessa might be able to use your help-” Becca began as they wrestled below and she clenched her fist to resist the itch to escape the tower and help out. She was so focused on the conflict below that she failed to hold back a shriek of surprise when another round of shots fired from Hawkeye’s location, these, she heard, going further into the building rather than out the window towards the concrete.

“Kate, Elizabeth-”

Static filled Becca’s ears and she tried again, “Kate-”

The buzzing only got louder. Frustration swelled in her chest. She threw the headset away with an angry huff and pressed herself against the window for any hint as to what to do next only to see Fuery making a run for it across the pathway between his and the lieutenant’s towers. That ultimately made her decision for her.

Becca abandoned her radio and flew down the stairs, gripping the handrail so she was able to sprint down without tripping herself up. She vaulted over the railing, dropped down the last few meters, rolled to her feet, and slammed against the door, only for it to stick and groan in protest.

“Come on,” she complained, shouldering it harder.

It took a few more hits, but finally it burst open, sending the assorted rubbish Fuery had restacked tumbling out of its way. Across the way, the feral looking man, who Becca could see was masked and not just deathly pale as she’d originally thought, made a break (thankfully taking the opposite way around her tower) and, while Havoc initially gave chase, he backed off when more shots went off from Hawkeye’s perch and Barry shouted, “Leave him! Now that my body senses my soul, it won’t go far!”

“Your what?” she couldn’t stop herself from asking.

Havoc and Falman’s heads snapped towards her.

“What the hell are you-?”

Another round of gunfire interrupted the second lieutenant, some of the bullets flying out the window and forcing them to take cover to avoid the shrapnel, along with the distinct bark of a dog. Somewhere out of view, a car door slammed and Becca might have seen a flash of military uniform navy blue swish by one of the windows. She was a little too preoccupied to double check though, since Havoc and Falman turned right back to her.

“What are you doing down here, kid?” Havoc demanded. “Fuery was supposed to tell you to stay put!”

“I couldn’t just sit there with all that going on-”

“Now they know you’re here-” 

Falman interjected, “Lieutenant-”

“And what if you all had to leave, was I just supposed to shelter in place?”

“We would have sent someone for you-”

“Um… Major-?”

“It was for your own safety-”

“All of you pick very random times to be interested in my safety, did you know that?”

Havoc blanched at that comment, mouth opening, but no sound coming out. Becca, on her end, wanted to clap her hand over her mouth, take back what she’d said, anything along those lines.
“Havoc, I-”

“Quit arguing and get out of the way!” Falman said sharply. “The building’s about to come down!”

All too suddenly, Becca discerned the cracking of stone replacing that of bullets. Fright taking over, she glanced up, up, up to a pillar of smoke floating out of the top room of the shaking tower. A wall on the opposite side of the building audibly cracked open and bricks crashed to the street. Lucky for them, their side didn’t meet the same fate, but still, a shower of debris rained down as the building continued to quiver. Falman grabbed both of them and yanked them back before the looser pieces could hit them as dust spilled down the side of the tower.

“Barry,” he ordered, “go after your body. Leave a visible trail and we’ll follow, alright?”

The armour cackled, which Becca supposed was his way of agreeing, and ran off in pursuit of the blonde man- body?- that had disappeared.

“We gotta make sure Hawkeye and Fuery are alright,” Havoc coughed, wiping some dust off his face. “Then we’ll regroup.”

“Right!”

Becca nodded, coughing out a cloud of dust herself.

Havoc helped her to her feet, then patted her hesitantly on the back. “Kid, did something-”

She bowed at the waist in apology at once, fixing her gaze on her boots. “I’m sorry, Second Lieutenant, I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”

For a second, she felt the two adults sharing looks, but she didn’t look up until the warm hand on her shoulder squeezed and Havoc insisted, “Kid, I’m not angry. This mission was…” He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, “...a lot of responsibility for you to handle by yourself.”

“I must admit, when the colonel spoke about including you, I worried that it might prompt some unnecessary strain on your mental well-being,” Falman added. “You’ve done everything you were instructed to. Perhaps you should head back to your hotel now and we’ll pass it along to the colonel.”

What?

Becca raised her eyebrows, swallowing anxiously. The team had been… worried about her?

“I can finish this,” Becca protested weakly, “I have to do it, or Mustang’s going to-” She took a shuddering breath, rubbing at her eyes, “-to court martial me, and I can’t -”

The men did that thing again, the thing where they gave each other weird, knowing looks that came with a silent conversation. Becca could do it with Ed and Al and with them, it was a fun secret, a happy (and sometimes convenient) consequence of their friendship and bond, but she didn’t like being on the other end so much.

“Alright,” Havoc said allowingly. Never mind that Becca technically had a higher rank than him and could have overridden any command he gave her. He had to know she wouldn’t push back to his face if he or Falman gave her a flat out no.

“But Second Lieutenant!” Falman said.

“Little Lady, I know you and Chief way better than you think I do,” Havoc silenced the other officer’s concerns, “and he’s rubbed off far too much on you. You’d just go anyway and I’m sure everyone would rather we know where you are so we can watch your back. Now let’s go find the others.”

---

“The others”, they discovered as they rounded the unsteady, but luckily still standing, foundations, had grown a member; specifically one Roy Mustang, currently being chewed out by one Riza Hawkeye.

“-And ignoring the fact that you could have been killed,” she was in the middle of saying, “now you’ve put the mission and yourself in danger-”

“I’m sorry I worried you, Lieutenant, but we’re not done yet,” Mustang said as they approached. “Havoc, Falman, Harper. Fuery pointed us in the direction the target went.”

“And Falman told Barry to make a mess for us to follow,” Havoc added, slapping the gray haired man on the back proudly as he slid into the back seat. Falman, still on the sidewalk, made a little “oof” sound with the force. “He really kept his head back there when Becca and I were having a bit of a moment!”

“Good man,” Mustang congratulated with a small, pleased smile. “Fuery and Hayate are clearing our traces from the traces, you head back and help them. I trust you two to get back to the office and return everything to its proper place without detection.”

“Sir!”

“Illusion, with us,” he ordered after he and Hawkeye had climbed into the driver’s and passenger seat, respectively.

Becca nodded and slipped into the back with Havoc, the engine purring beneath them.

“Wait! Colonel Mustang!”

Metallic footsteps sprinted up from behind them and Becca felt all the blood drain out of her face as Al appeared in the rearview. Mustang swore.

“You’re supposed to be in your hotel,” he grumbled, rolling down the window to talk to him.

“I could have told you he wouldn’t be,” Becca said resentfully, scrunched up in the back seat as if that would conceal her presence, “if you’d asked what I thought.”

“Is this about Mr. Hughes?” Al asked. When no one responded, he prodded, “It is, isn’t it?”

Mustang made eye contact with her in the mirror, then gave a long suffering sigh. “Are you coming?”

“Of course!”

The colonel waved him in. Al threw the door open and clambered into the car, forcing Becca and Havoc to squeeze together and, apparently for the first time, draw his attention to them. He froze.

“Oh,” he said in a small voice. “Hello, Becca.”

“Hi, Al,” Becca replied, somehow even quieter.

“Ling said- but I didn’t think-”

“Hustle, you two. We’ll fill you in on the way, Alphonse.”

However, with Becca twirling her hair once more and Al pointedly staring out the window, the air easily thickened with awkwardness, silence broken only by Hawkeye and Havoc refilling their guns with some spare ammo from the glove compartment.

“What- um- what did Ling say?” she tried to open.

“He dropped by the hotel room and said he was surprised Ed and I weren’t out here too,” Al said shortly. “When I asked what he meant, he said that he and Lan Fan had been told where you were going to be so they could try and avoid any big fighting in that area in case you got caught in it.”

She bit her lip, feeling a pang in her heart. She couldn’t be sure if it was the guilt or… something else that came with the knowledge that someone had specifically tried to keep her out of the most dangerous parts of the day. The only thing she could say wound up being, “Oh.”

“Where’d the prince go?” Mustang asked suddenly.

“Well, he disappeared with Lan Fan after we ran into this person from the Fifth Lab. They had an ouroboros tattoo and I think Brother and Becca said their name was-”

“Envy? I had almost forgotten about them, what with-” Becca said, furrowing her brow.

“Greed, in Dublith,” Al finished. “That’s who I thought of too.” When he caught sight of the other three occupants of the car’s baffled faces, he explained, “We got kidnapped while visiting mine and Brother’s teacher by a guy named Greed. He also had an ouroboros tattoo and we thought he was in league with the ones from the laboratory. He seemed to know them, but said he wasn’t working with them.”

“Okay, we are definitely having a long talk about all the shit you three have neglected to tell me after this is all over.” Mustang kept his eyes firmly on the road as he brought one hand to rub his forehead. “You got kidnapped?”

“More importantly, he was a homunculus, so it might be a safe assumption that these ones are as well,” Becca said bluntly--

--Which was a mistake since Mustang was so surprised that he swerved, sending all of the passengers sprawling over each other’s laps and triggering a round of indignant shouting, both from those inside the car and those outside of it on the sidewalk until he’d righted the vehicle.

“Homunculi? Those things are purely theoretical-”

“‘There’s no such thing as no such thing’,” Becca quoted, picking at her nails. “Greed drilled that into us when he had us captive.”

Al nodded and recounted, “Ling, Lan Fan, and I just watched Envy turn from their normal form into a military officer, into a dog after taking one of Lan Fan’s kunais right to the back and walking it off. I wouldn’t have thought it was possible if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes, but I swear it’s true.”

“The other one, with the mark one his tongue,” Hawkeye recalled thoughtfully, “both Fuery and I unloaded several rounds into him before you arrived, sir, but they hardly phased him.”

“And Greed came right back after getting his head whacked off,” Becca pointed out. The others raised an eyebrow and she shrugged, “It was a weird day. The point is that they have some sort of regeneration capability, although Greed did say that they’re not immortal.”

“Damn,” Mustang growled. “This whole crew is a real freak show, huh?”

---

They caught up to Barry outside the Third Laboratory after a relatively quiet end of their chase. The armor didn’t give them any time for more uncomfortable stretches between Becca and Al. Havoc spilled out of the car before Mustang had even brought it to a complete stop, closely followed by Becca. The others climbed out and grouped around Barry, who was waving his arms frantically like they wouldn’t be able to see him.

“Why did I know this was going to lead back to the military?” Mustang said rhetorically. “And right to the departments directly under the Fuhrer too?”

“Good blackmail material for the big guys, though,” Havoc pointed out.

“That’s for sure. You’re sure he went in there?” he asked Barry.

“‘Course I am!”

“Then we’ve done enough for today, locating their base of operations,” the colonel decided. “Let’s turn back while we’re ahead- where the hell do you think you’re going?”

For Barry had broken away, crowing victoriously, and bolting straight towards the government building, brandishing his meat cleaver.

Havoc slapped a hand to his forehead. “Dammit! Sorry, Boss, his soul being in such close proximity to its body is making him lose control!” He took a few steps to chase and hopefully subdue Barry, only to be stopped by Mustang laying a hand across his chest. “Huh?”

“Well, since we’re here, we might as well use this…”

---

“Everyone out!” Mustang barked, kicking the front door of the lab open. The employees, already wide-eyed and spooked from Barry barrelling through just moments before, swivelled to what must have been a very odd sight to behold; Mustang and Hawkeye leading the charge in full uniform, Havoc following up, still in his black “stealth” clothes, and Becca and Al bringing up the rear, each cutting a strange figure on their own.

A security officer bounded over, asking, “Colonel Mustang! What’s going on?”

“The man who just ran through here is highly dangerous,” Mustang explained shortly. “My team and I will go after him, but it’s imperative that you clear all these people out and block all entrances and exits, ASAP!”

“Yes, sir! And call for reinforcements?”

“I’ve already done so! You just watch the doors!”

“Sir!”

“Why did Colonel Mustang call backup? And when?” Al whispered to her, momentarily forgetting that he was upset with her in the hustle through the crowd of scientists, lab assistants, and secretaries being herded away by uniformed officers.

“He didn’t,” she replied. “He wants to keep this as under wraps as possible. We’re on our own.”

Finally, Barry’s incessant shouting and tendency to make a mess wherever he went led them to a chained up gate deep inside the facility. Becca couldn’t help but draw conclusions between the inner catacombs at the Fifth Lab and the locked up dark side of this one and subsequently shuffled a little closer to Al. The chainlink to the side had been busted, but it wasn’t safe to crawl through unless one was a suit of armor and therefore immune to tetanus, so, before anyone could attempt to break or pick the lock the old-fashioned way, Al clapped his hands and disintegrated the chain easily.

Havoc booted the gate open, jumping through with gun ready. Al moved ahead, patting Becca’s shoulder delicately, then putting deliberate space between them. With the workers cleared out, the building was quiet except for Barry’s laughter and screams of anticipation reverberating through the hollow hallways. She shivered, resisting the urge to follow Al for some degree of comfort.

“Which way did he go?” Havoc whispered.

“I can’t tell with the echo,” Hawkeye responded. “It might be best to split up to find him.”

She looked to Mustang for approval and recieved a nod of assent. “I’ll take Havoc, you take Alphonse and Illusion. Don’t go too far and come right back if you find him or something equally interesting. We’ll meet back here and retreat.”

She never thought she’d see the day, but Becca actually scowled at Mustang for not taking him with her.

“Right.”

“You’re really okay with taking both of us?” Al asked curiously as they headed off in one direction of the hall and Mustang and Havoc took the other. “You don’t think we’ll get in your way?”

“Of course not, I’ll be counting on you guys if something beyond my control happens,” the lieutenant said, tapping fondly on his chest. “You and Becca are both incredibly reliable, as alchemists and as people, so I’m not worried.”

Becca inhaled sharply and questioned, “Reliable?”

Hawkeye glanced to her, sternly confirming, “Yes, Rebecca. I think you’re very reliable.”

“Hm,” she said doubtfully.

Their trio proceeded in silence for a few moments until Becca decided she couldn’t push down the contrition at herself anymore. She suddenly stopped in her tracks, took a deep breath, and blurted out, “I’m sorry, Al.”

“Wha-?”

“I- I’m sorry,” she repeated, turning to look him in the face, “for lying to you and Ed about today. I understand that I p- probably broke your trust, but I hope- I hope you guys will stick with me and allow me to rebuild some of that confidence you had in me.”

“Becca… you- you lied to us,” Al said sadly. “I had to find out what was happening and that you already knew from Ling , and Brother still doesn’t know. I don’t even know where-” He jolted in realization and turned accusingly down to Becca. “Do you know where Armstrong took him?! Why did they take him away?”

Becca raised her hands in deference. “No, I- I swear on Louisa’s grave, I don’t know. My best guess would be Resembool but Mustang wouldn’t tell me-he says it’s on a ‘need to know basis’- ”

Scoffing, Hawkeye added, “Can you blame him? You would run right to him.”

Becca shrugged defensively.

Al, however, was not eased by the sarcasm. “And you care about what he says?”

“Alphonse, if I may,” Hawkeye interjected. Al tilted his head, confused, but gestured for her to continue. “Colonel Mustang was rather… insistent on Rebecca’s secrecy when it came to this mission. He made some choices that I personally wish I’d been there to stop in order to ensure her silence, specifically the threat of a court martial, which, as I’m sure you know, would be especially detrimental to her position and security here.”

“He… what? And he was serious?”

“I don’t know,” Becca admitted. “Maybe? He looked pretty serious because this whole thing is about Hughes and- and I didn’t want to take that chance. I would have told you two everything otherwise, but I was just… scared.”

And that, she realized then, really was the root of most of her problems. She couldn’t bring herself to keep in constant contact with Victor because she was scared he’d get sick of her constant lack of progress. She couldn’t confront Will, not really, because she was scared to face him after all he’d been through, all he believed. She couldn’t defy Mustang for two of the people who mattered most to her in the world because she was too scared to go against authority.

Too scared that some string in her carefully constructed web would snap and expose her to everyone; as a liar, as a sinner, and as a coward.

“But that’s not an excuse,” she forced herself to continue even though the words felt like they had to push through a chunk of lead in her throat to come all the way out. “So I’m sorry-”

“Oh, Becca,” Al sighed, lumbering closer and wrapping his arms around her.

She tried to simultaneously bump him off of her and lean her head onto his arm with a weak laugh. “No, stop it, I’m trying to-” she giggled, “-to apologize-”

His metal arms only squeezed more determinedly. “Stop pushing me!” he whined.

“You didn’t let me finish apologizing!”

“You already apologized!”

“But-!”

Hands clasped around her shoulders and Becca looked up into those glowing red eyes as Al firmly declared, “Becca. I understand. I don’t blame you.” He pinched her side, making her laugh again, then lapse into silence, a tiny smile still alighting her face. “I forgive you.”

A few seconds passed before those words sunk in and a bit of the weight vanished from her heart. The tiny smile bloomed into a full grin and she leapt at Al, jumping high enough that she could hug fully around his neck, although it did leave her feet dangling in not the most professional position for a State Alchemist to be seen in. Hawkeye kindly ignored the indecorous behavior.

“Thank you,” she whispered. “I won’t ever let Mustang come between us again, no matter what stupid orders he gives me.”

“And we’d help you in a heartbeat anytime, just tell us what you need,” Al said warmly, “okay?”

“I promise, I will.” She hesitated for a moment, then added, “I love you, Al.”

“Love you too, Becca.”

---

After that much needed conversation, the journey was much more productive with the air cleared-- they remained quiet for the sake of the mission rather than because they had nothing to say. Hawkeye held her gun at the ready at all times and Becca could feel the energy crackling through the earth and into her and Al as they prepared for a quick transmutation every time they saw a suspicious shadow. She was starting to believe they might have gone the wrong way since they couldn’t hear Barry anymore, but a speck of blood on the floor Hawkeye pointed out a few minutes after that thought had occurred indicated perhaps he’d just quieted down, so they pressed on. As they passed one dark hallway, far, far down, Becca heard a familiar shink! sound she couldn’t quite place but that put her on edge nonetheless, so much so that she could have sworn she heard someone’s labored breathing even quieter. No one else reacted to it, so, with an uneasy glance down the hall, she moved on.

A few minutes later, they finally found Barry in the oddest room Becca had ever seen. He’d indeed quieted, now standing almost pensively over what had been his body at the foot of a huge, uncomfortably familiar white set of doors. The walls were white and plain, and the one at their backs was covered with silent pipes and still machinery, aside from the gaping chasm in the middle where they’d come in.

Becca and Hawkeye both retched at the smell of rotting flesh, although Becca

 herself couldn’t draw her eyes away from the doors.

“Don’t love that,” she said, repressing another gag. “I know it’s not identical, but it’s close enough to that Gate of Truth to set me on edge.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Al murmured, though seemingly transfixed with Barry and his body instead.

To be fair, Barry also seemed rather focused on it, only looking up when they’d gotten much closer, and even then, he only chuckled dryly when they approached.

“Sorry you have to see this,” he said, even-tempered, bending down to pat his body’s back indulgently. “Look at this old thing-- almost completely decayed. The soul those lab guys shoved into didn’t take as well as they must have hoped it would have. It had to have been unstable for years.”

“Didn’t take?” Al said, agitation evident in his voice. “What do you mean?”

“It’s really only natural that a mismatched soul and body would repel each other, kid,” Barry answered evenly. “Like an equation that doesn’t quite balance.”

It did make sense, Becca supposed, but…

She didn’t want to ponder what that could mean for Al in the long run. Instead, she reached over, grabbing Al’s hand, assuring herself that he was still there. He’d gone stock-still, now staring up at the set of doors, and Becca was sure she’d see dawning terror if she could see his face.

Even Barry had sunk into a reflective quietude at the revelation, but it was swiftly broken by the distinct sound of high heels on concrete. Becca frowned. There shouldn’t be any civilians left in the building and most scientists she knew of who might be working in some secluded lab down here wouldn’t have been wearing high heels. Their group whirled around, except for Barry, who just hummed a sly, “I was just wondering when you’d show up, Lust.”

Becca’s breath caught as she recognized the newcomer and took a miniscule step forward.

The woman from the Fifth Lab strode through the doorway from the hall. The sound she’d heard in the hall earlier-- she’d recognized it as that woman’s nails! What if the breathing she’d heard had been real too? And where was-

“Number 66,” the woman purred, “care to explain why you were working with Colonel Mustang?”

“I thought it’d be fun to switch things up around here. And besides,” Barry sighed happily and turned all the way around, raising his cleaver in front of him, “I’ve wanted to chop you up more than anything since the day we met, Missy.”

Lust stuck her lip out, the exaggerated pouty expression much too at home on her face. “You’ve always been a pain, 66, but I don’t see why you have to drag not one, not two, but three of our sacrifices into trouble with you. I had to dispose of one a few minutes ago, two more will make Father so frustrated with me.”

Sacrifices, that’s what they called Ed and I at the Fifth Lab, Becca remembered.

“Dispose of? Sacrifices?” Al said questioningly.

“Yes, thanks to this bonehead, I’ll have to get rid of you two after I already took care of that other one-”

“I’ve heard enough from you!” Barry roared, all the boundless energy from outside returning in a flash. 

He sprinted forward, blade waving haphazardly, and was centimeters away from the dark haired woman when she extended her arm and Becca barely had the time to open her mouth to begin to shout a warning when her nails extended, slicing through the suit of armour with ease. 

Becca started as pieces of metal clattered to the floor. Al jumped.

Hawkeye, level-headed as she was, merely frowned.

“I do hate annoying men,” Lust said casually. “Now who wants to be next? The Magician? The little armour boy?” Eyes narrowing, she turned her violet eyes on Hawkeye. “Or perhaps the lieutenant? You do seem like a loyal officer, so perhaps you’d like to be the first to follow your superior.”

Follow… her superior.

Superior.

But that meant-

“No…” Becca breathed. “No, that’s not true. You’re lying.”

“You said… you said you’d have to kill three sacrifices. These two and the other one.” Horror was spreading over Hawkeye’s expression as she put all the pieces together. “You didn’t. You couldn’t have.”

Lust didn’t even dignify her with a response. Just smiled knowingly.

“You BITCH!”

Becca heard the gun click and dropped to the ground, rolling out of the way just as Hawkeye opened fire with a howl of rage. Covering her ears against the gunfire and the ongoing screams, she dared to sneak a peak over her shoulder to see every shot land on Lust’s body, but also to see her appear largely unphased, jolting with every strike but advancing just the same. She ducked back down to avoid the fire, but kept her eyes on the woman- no, the homunculus’ boots as they stalked closer.

When Hawkeye ran out of bullets in one gun, she tossed it aside and grabbed another. And another. With every shot, her furious shrieks dampened to angry, shrill breaths, to, eventually, whimpers of pain with the last few rounds.

And yet Lust stood back up straight, red electricity flickering around her as wounds healed, as holes disappeared, as she condescendingly asked, “Are you done yet?”

Tentatively lifting her head, Becca wished she’d kept it down after seeing Hawkeye. The blonde’s chest heaved and she exchanged looks with both Becca and Alphonse, silently begging for them to disagree with her conclusion. Neither of them could. She took a shuddering breath, and then, to Becca’s alarm, let a few tears drip down her face.

If Hawkeye cried, they were fucked.

And she was crying.

And they were fucked.

“Humans are such foolish creatures,” Lust noted disappointedly as the lieutenant collapsed to her knees. Becca scurried to her feet, only to trip herself up, fall, and have to hit her own knees and slide to her side. “Foolish and weak.”

Becca bowed her head.

This might be it. I’m sorry, Ed, for everything. And I’m sorry I never got to say it to your face.

She wished she could have seen him smile one last time, rather than the last imprint of him being the imagined distressed visage she’d seen in the back of her mind when she’d jumped off that train. She hoped he knew, somehow, that Al had forgiven her, and that he could find it in his heart to do the same.

She wished she could have told him everything.

A shadow fell over her and the shaking, sobbing Hawkeye. She craned her neck up at Al, stepping firmly between them and Lust. Becca grabbed his ankle, about to remind him of what had just happened to Barry, how he wasn’t invincible against this enemy, but Lust beat her to it.

“So you want to go first?”

“No,” Al said surely. “None of us are dying today.” He clapped his hands, drawing an intricate spear from the stone floor to his hand, then levelled it at Lust.

A flicker of surprise brushed over her expression before she schooled on a scowl in its stead. “So you have opened the Gate of Truth, but you still want to fight. For a genuine sacrifice candidate, you’re pretty stupid as well.” She threw her arm out, extending and sharpening her nails again. “Last chance, boy, get out of the way and maybe I’ll let you live.”

“Al,” Hawkeye croaked. “Go. You too, Becca. Run.”

“Listen to her,” Lust urged. “This woman doesn’t want to live.”

“We’re not running! No one is running!”

She didn’t verbally agree, but Becca figured tightening her arms around Hawkeye’s torso made her stance on the issue pretty clear. She wasn’t leaving until her body was dragged away.

“Go! You two, at least, should live!” Hawkeye ordered, her tone slightly firmer.

“No!” Al shot back. “All throughout our travels, people have died because of me! Because I couldn’t save them! I won’t watch someone I care about die right in front of me when I have the chance to do something! This body may not be good for much, but with it, I can protect the ones I love when no one else can, and I’m not going to lose that chance again!”

Lust snarled, swiping her hand up. Whatever her nails were made of cut right through the iron of Al’s body, but he was quick and dodged, careful to step over Becca and Hawkeye as well. The homunculus narrowed her eyes and stepped forward.

“Well said, Alphonse,” came a scratchy, albeit familiar voice from behind Lust. Becca gasped.

She had just enough time to touch her hands to the ground and erect a messy wave of stone in front of Al to shield their trio before Roy Mustang’s flames engulfed the room.

Chapter 30: absquatulate

Notes:

hello, my dears!

finally, we can see the end of this arc! and i know i say this a lot, but i think this is one of my favorite chapters, filled with some of my favorite scenes in this story. truly a roller coaster :). have fun with that, friends.

the clock is ticking down for my college move-in, which is crazy, but i'm hoping to stay on top of this as much as i'm able in the coming weeks.

also, if you haven't yet, check out the new side story, 'lessons', which is part three in this series! it gets referenced a few times here because it was on my mind, so see if you can find all of those references and let me know!

absquatulate (noun)- to flee or leave abruptly without saying goodbye

Chapter Text

Lust shrieked as she burned.

That sounded like a given, considering what one would expect when someone combusted, but since the homunculus had been arguably unflappable during both instances that Becca had encountered her, it came as a surprise.

It was a ghastly sound, one only exemplified by the crackling of the flames themselves. If Becca hadn’t had an iron grip on Hawkeye, she would have clapped her hands back over her ears to combat the sound.

“The first step to gaining the upper hand in battle is immobilizing the enemy,” Mustang rasped as his initial barrage of fire, Lust’s instinctive screams, and the shock of Becca, Al, and Hawkeye all died down. That didn’t last for long, though, since he snapped again, summoning another round of flames that licked around their shelter and nearly singed the long strip of hair atop Al’s head, as well as ripping another yowl of pain from Lust.

“Surprise attacks are also an effective tool,” the colonel continued over her ragged breathing. “You’d do well to remember that, homunculus. Although… I suppose it doesn’t really matter now. You’re finally on your knees.”

Now that the shock had worn off, Becca was able to analyze the colonel’s speech pattern-- or rather, analyze and observe how abnormal it was. Aside from obvious and expected strain to his vocal cords (possibly from smoke inhalation? Becca had always secretly wondered if that could become a side effect of his alchemy), she didn’t have to see him to guess his physical state. He sounded exhausted, and like he was in agony, barely powering through every motion he made, which Lust’s next words only confirmed.

“How?” she coughed. “You were bleeding out on the floor with that idiot subordinate of yours- you’re supposed to be dead by now!”

“I carved a transmutation circle into my hand and cauterized my wound to stop the bleeding.”

Becca winced. That explained the exhaustion and the agony.

“I almost passed out a few times due to the pain,” he explained, clinically cold. “But this is making it worth it.”

Peeking around the makeshift protection she’d made, Becca could see Lust struggle to her feet and finally turn away from them and towards Mustang, tossing her hair over her shoulder as haughtily as she could while covered in ash and with that red energy still crackling over her skin, healing it little by little with every step.

“You told me you still had a long way to go before you died, right?”

Al, still stood protectively a few steps in front of Becca and Hawkeye, sensed something shift and turned tail, sprinting towards them, creating a second, larger wall, and wrapping his arms around them so they were all pressed as close to his wall as they could be when Mustang let his flames loose again.

“Well, let’s see how many times it’s going to take until your death is permanent, shall we?”

Mustang lit the room up again.

For a moment, the fire illuminated Al and Becca was able to truly take him in. His body was more damaged than she’d taken note of before. His arm was sliced, but the swipe Lust had managed to scrape onto him had also taken off the lower part of his visor, where a mouth would be. The joint holding his arm to his torso wasn’t looking too hot either.

Mustang lit the room up again.

Over and over, Lust’s agonized shrieks bounced around the cavernous room, although they became worse when the roar of flames died down for a few seconds at a time before he flicked the lighter in his hand again, activated the transmutation circle, and set things alight again.

“Colonel-!” Hawkeye screamed desperately, energy renewed for the purpose of thrashing against Al and Becca. Later, Becca would reflect on how it was frankly impressive that, once she was fired up again, it took both of them to hold her back, and even then, she didn’t exactly make it easy.

“You have to stay here, Lieutenant!” Al insisted.

“It’s alright, he’s alright,” Becca murmured, trying to at least soothe her a little, “he needs us to stay out of the way. He’s okay.”

She wasn’t sure if Hawkeye could hear her over everything else, or if she was even making an effort to listen. Really, her whispers of reassurance were more for herself, comfort for… what, exactly, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she was reeling, thrown from grief to shock fast enough to make her head spin, and that the pounding of her heartbeat in her ears somehow managed to overpower everything else going on, impossible to block out.

---

Ultimately, Becca didn’t see Lust’s final moments, although by the sounds she could pick up, she wasn’t sure she would have wanted to. Some whispered final words and then a faint rustle as the homunculus, Philosopher’s Stone and all, disintegrated and settled to the floor.

With one touch, Becca destroyed the wall she’d created, returning the floor to its former state and finally allowing Hawkeye, Al, and herself to take in the carnage laid out before them. Mustang had charred the entire room and left the walls, the floor, and the machines by the entrance thoroughly coated with soot, but a fine layer of light gray rather than black dust marred by one pile of scarlet marked where Lust had met her end.

“‘For dust you are, and to dust you shall return’,” Becca said, the quote coming to her from some book she’d read long ago, then remarked, “I guess that really does apply to everyone, huh?”

Mustang managed to bark out a hollow laugh before his legs gave out and he lurched sideways, landing heavily on his injured side with a hiss of pain.

“Colonel Mustang!” Hawkeye said urgently as she finally broke away from them. She hauled him up, already tugging off his uniform jacket and ripping strips from the bottom.

“If you wanted to get me undressed, Elizabeth,” the colonel rasped, “you only had to ask.”

As one, Hawkeye and Becca rolled their eyes.

“Well, he can’t be too messed up.”

“Not the time, sir.”

The lieutenant got to work, rolling Mustang’s shirt up to under his arms, using one strip of cloth to wipe any sweat or grime off of the shiny, blistered skin, shaped clearly around Mustang’s hand, and wrapping his torso with the rest of the remnants of his coat as he winced every time he got jostled. Once she’d tied the knot but before she drew away to inspect any more possible damage, however, Mustang grabbed her hand, squeezing as much as he was able.

“I’m glad you’re safe, Lieutenant,” he said earnestly.

“Please worry about yourself right now, sir,” Hawkeye replied, even and measured and stiff. Becca didn’t mention how she noticed her hands shaking as she urged Mustang to begin sitting up.

“Alphonse, Becca,” he croaked, following Hawkeye’s guiding hand with suppressed winces.

The teens moved closer unconsciously, Becca realized once she’d already shifted, because his voice was getting weaker with every word.

“Thank you for watching over my lieutenant,” Mustang said.

Becca’s stomach dropped. She could count the times her commanding officer had sounded that kind to her on one hand (or used her first name, not even mentioning her nickname), if there were any at all. His condition had to be precarious if he wasn’t choosing to be an ass about the whole thing.

Al seemed to get the same feeling and snapped, “Don’t thank us! We need to get you a doctor!”
“Mm…” he hummed agreeably, wilting back down in Hawkeye’s arms. “Yeah, go find a doctor. A doctor for Havoc, okay? Go get that… please.”

Colonel Mustang never said please so veritably. When he was frustrated and trying his best to keep his temper? Sure. When he was sucking up? Of course. But for him to request rather than order, to beg rather than demand… it was out of character at best and unsettling at worst.

“Sir? Sir!”

“Colonel!”

“Colonel Mustang!”

“We’ve gotta get him out of here,” Becca said, desperation leaking into her tone no matter how she tried to quell it. And Havoc- she’d totally forgotten about Havoc in the chaos, but he wouldn’t have been left behind unless he had no choice, unless he was-

No. She wouldn’t even entertain the idea. They’d succeeded- somewhat- in their mission today. Mustang was going to be fine. Havoc was going to be fine, wherever he was.

Hawkeye grabbed Mustang, still fading in and out of consciousness, and heaved him up, throwing one of his arms over her shoulder and lugging him towards the door. 

“Come on, you two, you heard him,” she said determinedly. “We’ve got to find Havoc and get help.”

Becca scurried to her feet and to his other side, then looped the opposite appendage around hers, while Al trailed behind, checking everywhere Havoc could have been hidden away.

“Find… Havoc,” Mustang slurred.

“We’re trying,” Al assured shakily.

“Where is he, sir?” Hawkeye questioned. When Mustang only blinked slowly at her, brow furrowed, she repeated, “Where is Havoc?”, enunciating her words and keeping her gaze levelled on him.

Mustang’s eyes hardened marginally as he responded, “Side room. Lotsa… lotsa water. She flooded it.”

No one needed to ask who she was.

 Becca’s ears perked up as they passed the same hallway down which she’d heard indistinct breathing before; now, in the utter silence as they all held their breaths with anticipation, she heard a trickle of water. A quick glance down found wet bootprints padding in the direction they’d come, towards that massive room.

“Here! He might be here!”

“Alphonse, are you in good enough shape to carry Havoc on your own?” Hawkeye said. “At least back to the main part of the lab? Once we get there, we can seal up that gate and call for help.”

Al nodded firmly. “I can do it.”

“Then go. We’ll meet you outside.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

He vanished, and Becca, Hawkeye, and Mustang kept moving, retracing their steps back until they saw the chain link fence Barry had destroyed. Helping Mustang through the gate was a mission in and of itself, eventually requiring Becca to heave his entire, mostly dead, weight onto Hawkeye so she could pry the broken thing back open from where it had smashed closed when they ran through the first time.

“Set him down,” Hawkeye said. “I’m going to go find a-”

Footsteps rang down the hall, along with clamorous shouting. The woman’s head whipped towards the racket, eyes wide. “Who-?”

From the other direction, there was another clatter. This time, Becca looked back. 

“I’ve got him, but he looks really bad-!” Al called, hastening his pace.

“Hurry!” Becca said with a nervous look over her shoulder, already gearing up the energy for the transmutation. “Just break through the gate, I’ll fix it!”

Al did exactly that, crashing through the iron mere milliseconds before Becca touched the gate, rewiring it with a brush of her fingers. At the other end of the hallway, just as she turned back, a parade of uniformed paramedics rounded the corner, scanning around until one of them spotted their group and shouted.

“Hand him here, hand him here,” one ordered, pulling a gurney behind him as he gestured to Hawkeye and Mustang. 

Hawkeye tried to coax Mustang onto the bed, but he put up a surprisingly hearty resistance, dictating that they were to “help Havoc, dammit, he needs it-” while his lieutenant reassured him that Havoc was being taken care of, and that he needed help too.

Just as she said, two more medics eased Havoc, limp and bloodied, out of Al’s arms and laid him out on a stretcher.

“Colonel Mustang,” Becca heard the paramedic aiding the colonel, “sir, the Second Lieutenant’s body can’t take all the jostling that comes with the gurney. He’s getting the aid he needs right now. Now lay back, please.”

It took Becca scooting out of his way so he could see the gaggle of medical officers surrounding Havoc and one firm hand against his shoulder guiding him down, but Mustang finally relented and relaxed slightly against the inclined pillows of the gurney.

“Good man,” the man praised, signalling to a few others to begin moving. “Now just a few questions…”

Hawkeye stuck next to Mustang as he wheezed through the basic questions aimed to keep him awake and alert. The paramedics manning Havoc lifted him, careful to jostle him as little as possible as they glided towards the exit. The remainder of the backup someone must have called were just ordinary footsoldiers, more crass and rambunctious than the medical staff had to be, especially with no clear authority figure in sight.

“That criminal really did a number on those two, huh?”

“Mustang’s had an eventful day. Earlier, Schultze told me he could have killed another guy- was about to burn him to a crisp but backed out at the last second.”

“Ha! So much for the Hero of Ishval!”

“Didja hear? He told the guards outside not to call for backup! Talk about cocky!”

Throughout their casual conversation, Becca felt her face-- hell, all the way up to her ears-- heat up with anger. Slightly at Mustang for nearly getting himself killed and leaving them to deal with these jerks and, bizarrely, mostly on his behalf. How dare they mock him for having mercy? Did they know what he’d just gone through? What he’d just put himself through because he knew what that homunculus would do to them?

“Hey!” she snapped.

The men all jolted, as if her words were a sudden reminder that a member of the brass was within their midst.

When their eyes all turned on her, though, Becca’s bout of courage evaporated rather quickly. She swallowed through a suddenly bone dry throat and asked, “Are there cars outside?”

“Y-yes ma’am.”

“Escort us to the hospital, then. The same one the colonel and the second lieutenant are being taken to,” she said. “Myself and Alphonse. Now. Please.”

---

“Oh, good grief, what are you doing here, young lady?”

“Sophie!” Becca exclaimed, a grin overtaking her face as one of the soldiers driving them helped her out of the car and into the fading evening sun. How long did I spend up in that tower? she asked herself incredulously. Oh well, it hardly mattered down. She hopped from the step to the stone streets, swaying on her feet a bit, but leveraging Al’s arm to steady herself and bounding toward the older woman. “I’m actually not here for treatment, have you seen Colonel-”

The nurse crossed her arms, catching Becca by her arm. “Like hell, you’re not here for treatment when you’re walking like that,” she said sternly. She tightened her grip on her bicep and only then did Becca realize that she’d grabbed her by her injured arm via the sharp stab of pain ripping up to her shoulder. She hissed unwittingly and Sophie frowned.

Al perked up at the sound as well, worry radiating off of him. “What happened? I didn’t see you get hit.”

Disregarding her, Becca mumbled, “‘S nothing. Where’s Mustang?”

“You can sit in his room while I have a look at you,” Sophie said. Her eyes glided up and down Becca’s body, studying with a decisive stare. “And eat a snack or something.”

“But I-”

“Becca did you eat anything today?”

“Um…”

“Since last night?”

Apparently, her silence was answer enough, since Al, as if he’d been scandalised, scolded, “Becca!”

“I was busy!”

“Come on in, you two,” Sophie said, wrapping one of Becca’s arms around her shoulders to take some of her own weight off her. “Let’s get you all sorted out.”

---

“You’re lucky,” Sophie said as she finished stitching up the laceration on Becca’s arm. “Missed any major arteries, didn’t damage any muscles or tendons enough that you need anything other than rest to heal it. I’d like to keep you overnight just to make sure you get that rest, but something tells me you’d put up a fight over it.”

Occupied with sipping down spoonfuls of soup from the cafeteria, Becca shrugged noncommittally. Al sighed and promised, “I’ll watch over her.”

“There’s a good boy,” Sophie praised, still mostly focused on actually bandaging the wound.

Al, however, practically glowed. “No one ever treats me like a kid when I’m in this body,” Becca heard him whisper reverently. She smiled, hiding her face in her bowl, though Sophie caught it and sent her a knowing one back.

“Now, as for you,” she said, rounding on Mustang, newly revived and laying in one of the two beds, staring up at the ceiling while a team worked on an unbearably still and quiet Havoc behind a curtain. 

The colonel groaned. “Just given how familiar she is with you, I know I should be worried.”

Becca snorted. “Honestly, Sophie might as well just be appointed as my nurse from now on. Be nice or I’m not going to share her with anyone else.”

Sophie ignored her. She was professional like that. “You’re gonna be stuck here for awhile and, frankly, I don’t care what you have to say on that matter,” she said, leaving no room for argument. “The nerves on your burn need extensive care if you want to retain any feeling in them and we’ll need to get an x-ray to make sure all your organs are alright as well, otherwise we’ll have to perform surgery ASAP, but luckily, the fact that you’re still conscious does bode well for you on that front.”

At that, Mustang went a little pale, looking nervously over at Havoc’s bed. Hawkeye, sat ramrod straight in a chair between them, laid her hand over his. Sophie received a hand gesture from one of the doctors and reassured, “The second lieutenant will live, that much is for certain. Colonel, your decisive actions searing his wounds shut saved his life by removing the danger of bleeding out.”

That was too easy. Becca knew that couldn’t be all.

Hawkeye appeared to be on the same train of thought.  “But-?” she prompted.

Pursing her lips, Sophie said, “I can’t tell you anything else with certainty until surgery is performed and we get a chance to actually speak with Lieutenant Havoc about what he’s experiencing, but from preliminary observations, there’s a high chance that something in his spinal cord was destroyed beyond repair.” 

Fury, horror, guilt- they all merged, twisting in her gut  and emerging on her face in a devastated expression she saw reflected in everyone else. Even Mustang, usually anywhere between stoic and fiery, looked lost. The energy in the entire room plummeted, which Sophie (and, if Becca was honest, probably anyone with the emotional maturity of a five year old) could obviously sense.  “I wouldn’t count him out, but… don’t get too optimistic.”

She gathered the items from the kit she’d used to stitch up Becca, replacing them onto her small cart and wheeling it towards the door.

“From what I’ve gathered,” she said, pausing at the door, “you did everything you could. All of you.”

The door closed behind her, but no one wanted to break the ensuing silence. Sure enough, though, the moment had to come and Mustang was the one to clear his throat forcefully and request, “Lieutenant? Will you see to getting me some water?”, the words coming out rough.

“Of course, sir. You’ll be alright on your own?”

He scoffed, gesturing to the room at large. “Don’t worry, I’m hardly on my own.”

“Ah, yes, indeed,” Hawkeye chuckled, then exchanged a look with Becca and Al. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they chorused.

She made her exit as well and, as soon as she was gone, Mustang’s gaze flicked over to Havoc’s bed before he dropped his head into his hands.

“Sir?” Al asked hesitantly.

“I knew we should have pulled back while we were ahead,” he said, massaging his temples. “I even decided to retreat, then I changed my mind! Why’d I second guess myself? Now Havoc is-” 

An uncomfortable pit took up residence in Becca’s stomach and she chanced a few paces forward, nearer to the side of his bed, though she didn’t sit down on the edge or take Hawkeye’s vacated seat like she might if this were Ed’s hospital room. The colonel had been irritated with her the last time they actually exchanged words and, needless to say, the day hadn’t quite improved since they spoke at Central Command that morning, and the incident with Will might have frazzled him, maybe not as much as it frazzled her, but maybe enough that he couldn’t trust himself, and- oh, and poor Havoc, she’d shouted at and maybe distracted him and so he-

“This is my fault,” both superior and subordinate said in unison.

Al heaved out a sigh (quite impressive, all things considered) and insisted, “It’s not your fault! Either of you!”, head swivelling between them, then, more to himself, mumbled, “You two are too similar, it’s-”

“Harper, I- no. No. This isn’t on you, it’s on me. I should have trusted my gut. It’s my duty to take responsibility for all of your safety. That’s what  it a leader has to do.” He leaned back against the inclined bed, tilting his head back and pinching the bridge of his nose. “This whole day has been a clusterfuck, huh?”

“Um… Colonel?” Becca said tentatively. “May I… say something?”

Mustang opened his eyes but hardly moved. He only barely raised his chin in her direction, but it was enough acknowledgement for her to steamroll on.

She took a deep breath, fidgeting with her fingers. “I’m sorry for snapping at you before and- and for dragging you into my issue with my brother. You’re not my father, you’re my commanding officer, and I should be able to handle myself with him and, more than that, I should have a better handle-”

With every word, Mustang sat up straighter and straighter, his eyebrow creeping up more and more and confusion blooming on his face. “Harper-”

“-On my emotions when it comes to-”

Al put his hand on her shoulder and she took a shaky breath, then shrugged him off, lowering her gaze to the stiff sheets. She had to do this by herself.

“-When it comes to him, especially when I obviously had bigger things to think about-”

“Harper, stop.”

Becca gulped, forcing herself to look up at him.

The colonel appeared serious, more so when he spoke, tone firm. “I am not your father, that much is true.”

“No, sir, you’re not.”

“But you three are still as good as my-” He paused, looking uncomfortable, then amended, “Well, you’re my subordinates. I already told you I trusted you, and a certain amount of care comes with that trust. Alphonse?” The boy in question sat up a little straighter. “I should have known you and Fullmetal would get involved no matter what and told you the truth from the beginning. I’m sorry for leaving you two in the dark.”

“Oh, Colonel,” Al whimpered. He’d probably be crying if he could, Becca realized. The entire exchange felt like she was watching it through a fog. She blinked slowly as she tried to comprehend the scene in front of her; Mustang giving a seemingly authentic apology. She couldn’t remember that happening ever . Sure, there had been the one through gritted teeth when he’d scared her in the hospital, but that didn’t really count, not with everything else that had gone on that night.

“Please, just let us help next time,” Al requested softly. “I know we’re just kids, but we- none of us need to be protected.”
“Oh, believe me, I know you don’t, but I appreciate how you think I was concerned about your safety rather than the success of my plan,” Mustang said tiredly. The two shared a small, hesitant, but still warm look. “Now,” Mustang continued with a cough, “would you mind giving Illusion and I a moment alone?”

“Is it going to turn out like your last moment alone?” Al fired back. 

He sounded like he was only half-joking, so Mustang forced an awkward laugh and assured, “No. Not like that.”

Still, Al wordlessly checked in with Becca as well, the joints around his neck creaking as he glanced down at her, then again when he responded to her affirming nod with one of his own.

“Everything’s fine, Al,” she assured, patting his arm. “I promise.”

Instead of saying anything, he just squeezed her tight in a side hug before leaving the two of them in the deathly silent hospital room, the door clicking behind him. Despite the fact that she’s allowed Al to leave, Becca suddenly found herself rather at a loss for words without the larger, comforting presence. She shifted from one foot to the other, unsure of what he wanted to hear.

“Illusion,” Mustang was the one to break the silence, “have a seat.”

She sat in the chair on the side of the bed, fiddling with her fingers, the sleeves of her shirt, reaching up for the charm resting on the scar at the base of throat-- anything so she didn’t have to meet his eyes.

“Illusion- Harper-” He stopped, let out a sigh then revised, “Rebecca. Listen to me.”

Oh, boy. He only used her first name when he was determined she’d hear what he said, whether she wanted to or not. Becca steadied her hands, folded them in her lap, then turned her eyes upwards, barely meeting his gaze. “Yes, sir?” she said quietly.

“After the two of us spoke last night, Lieutenant Hawkeye and I had… words, and I had some realizations. All three of you, but especially you, Illusion, act so much like adults that it’s easy to forget that you’re just a teenager.”

“I’m not just-”

“That’s not a bad thing,” Mustang cut her off firmly. “You have to act mature sometimes, but that doesn’t mean I think you should have had to grow up so fast like you did. You’re not like the Lieutenant and I, old and jaded and far more comfortable keeping secrets than being honest. More than that, you shouldn’t be forced into my idiotic plans and put your life on the line more than you do already just because I hold authority over you.”

“But I was fine,” she insisted. “I would have helped anyway-”

“And I think somewhere, deep down, I knew that,” he said. “I knew that you would all join in if I asked you to, but I thought the Elrics would just get in the way and I was obsessed with keeping this whole operation a secret-- not that that ended up happening.” He waved his hand flippantly. “Anyway, the point is that I should have just asked, not held that debt over your head. I like to think I’m above such measures of persuasion, especially within my own team, but clearly I am not all the time. So I apologize, sincerely, for forcing you into this whole mess, even though, let’s be honest, you would have gotten yourself into it either way.”

Of course, she couldn’t get an apology without a snarky remark to accompany it-- otherwise, it would have just seemed wrong. Becca chuckled wetly, and only then did she realize that somewhere during the conversation, she’d begun to tear up.

God, he’d all but threatened to send her to the guillotine less than twenty four hours ago, but she’d seen the regret, a few tiny slices of humanity in the few instances after. She’d been confused on what he felt towards her, indifference, anger at her losing her temper, or something else entirely, and then she’d thought he was dead and she hadn’t had the chance to make things right with one of the few people who’d at least tried to be there for her, as much as he was capable of while keeping some professional boundary between them; teaching her to drive when no one else could, making sure she, Ed, and Al rested when they could, even if it meant ordering them back to the barracks, taking every waspish comment she muttered under her breath, every sarcastic barb Ed slung at him, and never transferring them to work under someone else

“Dammit,” she mumbled, wiping the moisture off her cheeks. “Why am I crying so much lately?” She mustered up a stern expression and levelled it at him, though it probably lost some of its efficacy when combined with a splotchy face and red-rimmed eyes. Mustang smirked knowingly back at her when she added a pointed finger. “I didn’t used to be like this. I didn’t cry for years before I got mixed up in all my father’s problems.”

At that, the colonel’s face fell a little. In the same moment, Becca’s smile softened, a bit more earnest.

“Colonel, you- you know I don’t actually think of you even in the same ballpark as my father,” she said, shrinking into herself at the admission. “Right?”

She could have imagined it, but she thought she saw Mustang draw back as well as he coughed into his hand, swallowing pointedly. “Of course.”

“That’s not a bad thing,” she parroted back to him in as light a tone as she could manage. “I, for one, would hardly take being compared to him as a compliment.”

“Ah,” he said casually, and Becca gracefully pretended she didn’t see his shoulders ease down ever so slightly. “I see. And I’m sure that’s just how you meant it this morning?”
“I guess you’ll just have to trust me.”

He barked out a sharp laugh and, just like that, the air wasn’t so thick. Some might even describe it as relaxed-- well, as relaxed as it ever was between them. 

“So you said you trusted me- trusted us,” she asked after a few minutes, kicking her feet up to rest near his on the bed, “last night, and then again today. Did you really mean it?”

“Obviously,” he said, sinking back into his pillows. “And I meant the other thing too. About caring about you three-- to a certain extent.”

Once, months ago, he'd told her he didn't want them dead in a ditch somewhere. At the time, that had seemed revolutionary; Becca remembered feeling shocked at that concession. But now, admitting to actual, genuine trust and to... caring about them. That was new.

“Oh,” she said pensively.

That made Mustang laugh for real, an actual fit of laughter, enough to make him wince after just a few seconds and remind Becca just how injured he was and grimace in sympathy.

She stood up as well. “I should let you rest,” she said. “I’ll try and come back tomorrow.”

“You need to rest as well, Illusion. It’s been a long day for everyone, I’m sure.”

“Yes, sir.”

Haltingly, giving him plenty of time to move away, give some indication it was unwanted, Becca reached out, then, when not outright spurned, patted him carefully on the shoulder. Mustang reached his other hand (the one on his injured side, so the movement must have hurt like a bitch unless they’d already drugged him up with some good pain meds, oh, God, she hoped this conversation hadn’t happened while the man was on drugs ) and clasped her forearm, conveying something without the need for any exchange of words.

“I’ll see you later,” she said lamely as she pulled away and made for the door, careful to salute as she opened it.

Luckily, he didn’t seem to mind the fiddly farewell, since he raised a hand in acknowledgement, then returned her salute, effectively releasing her for the day. “Be safe on the way back to your hotel. You and Alphonse both.”
“Yes, sir. Goodnight. Call us if you get any news about Havoc.”

By the time she stepped out into the hallway, Al and Hawkeye had both been waiting outside, doing a spectacular job of acting like they hadn’t been listening into the conversation. Becca just cocked a grin at them, already feeling leagues lighter, and asked, “Ready to head out?”

As they left the hospital, stepping together out onto the street, Al noted, “Hawkeye said we might be able to call Resembool in a few days and get ahold of Brother. Maybe he’ll fill us in on where Armstrong took him then.”

And all the weight of the world came crashing back down. Because Becca had forgotten the biggest apology she still had to make-- and the one she was most afraid wouldn’t be accepted.

---

“I mean, I get why he’s mad at you, but I wouldn’t not forgive you,” Winry said, peering over her pillow. She had let Becca and Al into her room at the hotel and the three of them were now strewn about. Winry had been briefed on the situation with as much information that they were legally allowed to give her-- basically, everything that had gone down today was supposed to be a secret that Becca had been clued in on and then chosen to leave the boys out of. 

A very big secret. Becca couldn’t stress that enough.

From her spot curled up on the chair, Becca fretted, “But what if-”

“There’s no use worrying about ‘what if’s, Becca,” Winry said frankly. “If he will, he will. If he won’t, he won’t. You’re still going to try, right?”

“Of course!”

“And I forgave you,” Al pointed out, cross-legged on the floor. “I don’t see why Brother wouldn’t.”

“This might surprise you, Al,” Becca said, burying her face in a spare pillow, “I love you both, but you tend to be a little more forgiving than Ed does.”

Al squawked and waved his arms indignantly. “I’m not a pushover!”

“I didn’t say you were! I think it’s way more mature to not hold grudges!” Becca defended. “And watch your arms, you know you took some damage today-”

Right as she tried to placate him, his right arm clanged to the ground, the strain of the movement proving to be too much after Lust’s earlier swipe. Winry and Becca both shrieked and Al groaned in annoyance.

There was a short knock at the door. “Miss Rockbell? Is everything alright?” Norman called through the wood. “I heard something fall as I was passing by.”

“Just the- uh-” Winry scrambled for something that could make a similar sound, then landed on, “-coat tree! I knocked it over! Don’t worry about me!”

Norman audibly hesitated, then just gave a short, “Alright. Call down if you need any help!”

They all held their breaths as he walked away, but as his footsteps faded, they slowly started to giggle.

“You’re idiots,” Winry said, shaking her head fondly. “All of you. Welcome back.”

---

Bustling into the hospital by herself the next morning, Becca had one objective: recite the veritable presentation she’d practiced in her head all night, then aloud to Al and Winry over breakfast, then a few more times in her head on the way over, concerning Will’s fate at the hands of the military. Specifically, rehabilitation, therapy, and a gentle guiding hand all leading up to releasing him back into society, hopefully more like the brother she’d known all those years ago.

Step one was to not let Mustang get a word in edgewise before she had a chance to give her proposal, so she burst into his room and started talking the moment the door was open, startling both the colonel and his lieutenant, bent together in conversation.

“Colonel Mustang, I wanted to talk to you about my brother-”

“Don’t bother making your case,” he interrupted, holding up a hand.

All previous gusto evaporating, Becca huffed, “You won’t even hear me out?”

“I don’t need to. The Fuhrer’s already made the decision and I can’t imagine you’ll be happy about it.”
She felt the color drain from her face. “He already sentenced him? But- but he hasn’t even been charged yet! He can’t have been!”

“Quite the opposite,” Mustang scoffed, wound up tight. “The lieutenant just told me about how the Taloned Alchemist was approved to join our ranks late last night.”

Becca blanched. Her mind went blank.

“What?” she whispered.

Mustang nodded, reaching out to grab her hand, grounding her as much as he could. 

“Rebecca,” Hawkeye said gently, “take a breath.”

Oh, yeah. That was something she needed to do. She sucked in air, then forced it back out. “Colonel, I-”

“I know.”

“I didn’t want him dead, or-or locked up forever, but-”

“I know .”

“But he tried to kill me-”

“I know, Illusion, I know. I can’t say I understand the Fuhrer’s decision, but we just have to roll with it. What do you want to do?”

“I don’t- I don’t know,” she gasped, reeling. “What can I do? What are my options?”

His eyes steeled, the wall he’d let down rebuilding itself as he strategized for a few, silent moments. “Get out of town for a few days,” Mustang said curtly. “Go to Resembool. Fullmetal’s not there now, but he’ll join you in a few days at most. Wait for me to call you back. Hopefully, he’ll get stationed elsewhere and we won’t even have to worry about him.”

“O-okay,” she stuttered. “Is that kind of… running away?”

“Call it a tactical retreat, if that makes you feel better. Lieutenant, call Falman and have him get her a ticket for the next train going that way.” He shooed her out, reassuring, “You’ll be on your way by this afternoon.”

Hawkeye guided her, hustling out of the room alongside her. “It’s going to be fine,” she soothed, rubbing her back. “Go pack a few changes of clothes and get ready.”

Becca nodded shakily.

“I’ll make sure you get back safe, and then Falman will come straight to the hotel with your tickets and escort you. You’re going to be just fine.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

They didn’t speak the rest of the way back. Hawkeye saw her into the lobby, then passed her off to a passing maid with a request that she make sure Becca, still slightly in shock, got to the correct room. When she pushed the door open, though, and Al chirped, “That was fast! How did it go?”

Clearly, he saw her face and quickly switched to a concerned, “What’s wrong?”

“Al,” she said faintly. “I have bad news.”

Chapter 31: yonderly

Notes:

hello, my dears! happy late thursday!!!

guess what? i moved into college!!!

this chapter is a little short because of all the hectic stuff from that, but, you know what? i'm still pretty happy with it. becca gets a reality check and sometimes, don't we all?

unfortunately, i did not have time to edit this because i actually planned for it to go slightly differently and wound up having to erase like half of it 75% of the way through, but i like this way wayyyy better, so i'm glad i did it. other than that, i believe there's no business unless you want to wish me luck on starting classes, so i'll see y'all in two weeks :)

yonderly (adjective)- mentally or emotionally distant; absent-minded

Chapter Text

Obviously, Becca knew Ed wasn’t in Resembool. Mustang had told her so. But she still couldn’t stamp down the little sliver of disappointment when she finished trekking alone from the train station to the Rockbell house and he didn’t run out to greet her. She’d gotten strange looks in the town proper, which she supposed made sense; she was basically a stranger, only seen once with the Elrics and keeping to herself on the Rockbell’s land. Her presence without them was sure to be noticeable in a town where everyone knew everyone. However, she still hopped up the steps, knocked on the door, and greeted Pinako with a guilty smile.

“Hi,” she said. 

“Good God, child, you wanna tell me what the hell’s been going on around here? One moment Al’s calling me, asking if I’ve seen Ed, which I have not, and the next, I go into town and get my groceries and I’m hearing about how the boy just breezed through the damn train station and didn’t even bother stopping by!”

She winced, stepping over the threshold when Pinako stepped aside. “It’s a long story. I’ll explain what I can.”

“Please do.”

Rubbing her upper arm, still wrapped in bandages underneath her coat and shirt, Becca mumbled, “He’s kinda, sorta MIA.”

“What?!”

“But- but not really,” she was quick to try and elucidate, “because Colonel Mustang knows where he is and just won’t tell us anything and he- he’s with Major Armstrong so he’s safe-”

“What have you and those boys gotten yourselves into?”

“It- I- I can’t-” She sighed, giving up on the back and forth game as her shoulders slumped in defeat. “I can’t say that much. I’m not allowed, plus it- it’s far too dangerous and I don’t want to get you involved. All I can say is that we got separated, I lied to him and Al about it, he is gonna be pissed at me when he does find his way here, and I need lay low for a few days… if that’s possible.”

Pinako blinked, mouth opening and closing a few times before she let out a low whistle. “Well, isn’t that something?” She picked up Becca’s overstuffed backpack, hoisting it over her shoulder as Becca tried to take it from her. “Of course you can stay. Same room as last time alright?”

Becca nodded mutely. After the last few days, something going right was actually sort of refreshing. Pinako, luckily, wasn’t phased by her silence and ushered her further into the main hallway, still chatting, “You know, it’s probably for the best that Edward’s not here right now.”

“What do you mean?”

The elderly woman gestured to the doorway to the living room as she passed and said, “I’ll put this away and set up a bed for you. Go on and get settled.”

“Wait, but-”

Pinako vanished into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

What did she mean?

---

Oh, Becca did not like this.

“Hello, young lady. Are you one of Pinako’s patients?”

Her movements ground to a halt, leaving her stiff, clutching the door handle and helpless against the shocked, “Oh!”, as well as the, “Oh…” that quickly followed when understanding dawned on her. “That’s what she meant. You’re… him , you have to be.”

The blonde, bearded man on the couch tilted his head confusedly. “You know who I am?”

Most telling, of course, were his bright gold eyes, identical to two pairs staring back at them from a plethora of photos around the room. Becca glanced at one of them, one of the Elrics and Winry as babies, sat in a field of flowers, tangled up in four pairs of legs, which Becca assumed belonged to their parents. The man followed her eyes and his own immediately sharpened knowingly. Her skin crawled under his scrutiny, but she tried to at least meet his stony gaze with a matching one of her own.

Still, Becca had to say it.

She thought for a second, trying to recall the name Izumi had given them, then snapped her fingers and said, “You’re Hohenheim, aren’t you? Van Hohenheim?”

An ugly expression crossed his face, part impressed, part startled, and part- dare she say?- afraid. He coughed pointedly, looking away. “Indeed. Did- uh- did Pinako tell you I was here?”

“No,” she replied curtly and shut the door behind her. She strode across the room, not breaking eye contact with Hohenheim the whole way, and slid onto a wooden stool next to a tall desk (Pinako’s work desk, she believed) that Den had hunkered under, growling at Hohenheim. Becca didn’t scold him, instead reaching down and scritching behind his ears.

“I hardly think it’s fair that you seem to know my name and yet you haven’t given me yours,” Hohenheim said after a few seconds of thick silence.

“Rebecca Harper,” she said shortly.

Her answer, however, only made him break out in a grin. “Ah, I recognize your name! You work with my boys!”

His boys, Becca scoffed internally. Externally, she nodded in affirmation, but didn’t give any other information about herself or the brothers. He could pry that out of her if he was so interested in them after this long.

“So I suppose you have to know about their transmutation, then?”

It felt like her blood had frozen in her veins, though she tried not to show it on her face. “I’m more interested in how you know about it, to be honest.”

“Pinako didn’t tell me everything, but they learned everything from me, so she said enough and I filled in the rest myself.” He shrugged nonchalantly, waving his hand towards the window. “And my house is gone, so I thought I deserved to at least know what happened.”

Oh, Becca really did not like this.

“They didn’t learn- you ‘deserve’-” She could hardly fathom this- this entitlement and was subsequently left nearly speechless. All of a sudden, she stood up, clicked her tongue for Den to follow her, and made a swift exit, saying, “I need to call the office,” just before slamming the door behind her.

The excuse was just that, an excuse, but the more she thought about it, the better of an idea it sounded like to get Mustang on the line and force him to get Ed back to Central, pronto. Winry was still there, she could fix his automail.

Prior to her actually being able to make a decision on that front, Pinako called that lunch was ready and Den, drawn by the telltale sound of food and water hitting her metal bowls near the table, bounded off, and Becca had little choice but to trail after. Pinako had already set out the main dish, seasoned lamb chops, if Becca’s nose was anything to go by, and stacked plates and flatware on the table, so she went about setting three places. Sure enough, Hohenheim appeared a few moments later, glasses glinting in the sunlight from the window as he trailed to his spot across from Pinako like a ghost.

God bless her, Pinako tried . A few times, she tried to get Becca and Hohenheim to engage in more than empty pleasantries with one another. Hohenheim, at least, seemed a little willing to try and speak to her, but Becca wouldn’t return any attempts at conversation. Even when she tried to put her own feelings about the man and his personal life, choices, and his relationship (or lack thereof) with Ed and Al aside, he still felt… off. Something in her gut was screaming at her not to trust this man, not to reveal too much about herself, about the brothers, or about what had led any of them to this point, and so she just hummed in agreement or disagreement, occasionally muttering a short, one or two word answer to one of his questions: “You’re just like Edward, young for a State Alchemist, right?” “Mmhmm.” “Are your parents concerned about you?” “Mm-mm.” “How long have you known my boys?” (Becca cringed again) “Almost two years.”

Under Pinako’s watchful eye, she finished a whole plate, then picked her things up and set them in the sink. 

“Let me know when you two are done and I’ll do the dishes,” she said firmly, then held up a hand when Pinako started to object, “Nope. I’ll do them. Do not worry about it. I’ll be in the bedroom, just shout when you finish.”

“Rebecca, one more thing,” Hohenheim said, not looking up from his meal.

Becca stopped in her tracks, pivoting the balls of her feet but not saying a word, only tilting her chin up in acknowledgement.

“What do you know about why my sons burned my house down?”

Her vision went red with fury and she spat out, “Probably more than you,” before striding out of the dining room.

---

Hohenheim wound up leaving the house after lunch. Becca heard him murmuring to Pinako through the walls, then the door close, and, when she heard Pinako come down the hall towards her door, she leaped from her floor to the bed, flipping a book open and propping her feet up before Pinako knocked.

“Come in,” she called as casually as she could.

Poking her head in, Pinako took in the room, then smirked and noted, “Your book’s upside down.”

Becca froze and, quick as a whip, glanced down and confirmed that particular sentiment. A little sheepish, she smiled, putting it aside. “Can you blame me?”

The old woman hummed noncommittally, making Becca raise a brow.

“I’ve known Hohenheim a long time,” Pinako reasoned, “and I’m not saying you have to like him, but I am saying I’ve never seen him trying to hurt somebody.”

“But-” Just because he didn’t try doesn’t mean it didn’t happen-
“That doesn’t mean nobody got hurt,” she continued over her. “And it doesn’t mean he doesnt have things to atone for, especially with his family, just… don’t count him out yet, alright?”

With a pointed roll of her eyes, Becca swivelled her feet off the bed and said, “Of course. Where’d he go? Away again?”

To be fair, Becca supposed, she didn’t know Hohenheim. Maybe she jumped to conclusions. But Becca thought it was fair to say that she knew his type.

“He just said he was going for a walk, to see what all had changed while he was travelling,” Pinako said. “I’m sure he’ll be back in a few hours. People are going to have questions for him, after all.”

Becca let out a long breath. “Makes sense. Did you leave the dishes in the sink?”

“Yes, I figured you would hear if I turned on the water,” Pinako teased.

She stuck her lip out, pouting, but didn’t deny the accusation.

“If you insist on tidying up, I’m going to put the finishing touches on a leg I’m working on, so make yourself at home.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Pinako smiled, then got up on her tiptoes to pat Becca’s cheek and give her an earnest, “Good girl. Thank you.”

---

Finding solace with her jacket and thread out on the outdoor steps, Becca got started on a two-toned carnation-- sketching out a design that would rest right between the lower parts of her shoulder blades. The late afternoon sun shone above her, making its slow journey towards the horizon as hours passed in serene silence.

Like all things, though, it came to an end.

Ed glowed in the setting sun; he always did. Some days, like when they’d been in Resembool last, it gave a softening effect.

Some days, like now, the shadows made him rougher, and it was hardly helped by the scowl on his face, evidently a result of his father’s presence, now trailing behind him, looking uncomfortably comfortable compared to his son. Edward, finishing off a messy braid, stomped up the hill several strides ahead of Hohenheim and wound several times tighter, like a coiled spring.

For her part, Becca stood up at once, hopping down the remaining stairs and hitting the ground running.

“Ed,” she breathed as she finally got within reach and tried to loop her arms around his neck.

By the time she reached him, Ed was unresponsive, all the anger drained out of him in an instant and replaced with an unfamiliar weariness as he squirmed under her grip. And Becca expected something along those lines, of course she did, but it still… hurt (like she deserved to feel hurt for the consequences of her own actions. It’s a fair reaction, she told herself sternly, pulling away and crossing her arms over her abdomen).

“Ed, I’m so sorry,” she started, only to be cut off by his raised hand.

“It’s- fine,” he said stiltedly while tossing his braid over his tight shoulder. “You’re fine. I don’t care.”

“But-!”

“Not now, Becca.”

She swallowed around the lump in her throat that had formed at the initial rejection. “Not now.” Okay. I can deal with “not now”.

“O-okay,” she repeated herself aloud. “Pinako cleared out the same room as last time-”

“Thanks,” he said listlessly.

Without another word, Ed trotted up the stairs, leaving Becca and Hohenheim on the front lawn. The older man shrugged, unperturbed, and followed him into the house a few moments later. Becca, on the other hand, gathered her supplies and plopped down on the grass. She tried to get back into her rhythm embroidering, but, with a frustrated groan, gave up a few minutes later and stomped inside as well.

---

“Hello?”

“Hey.”

“Oh, hi! So Central is either much more boring this time around or much more life-threatening if you’re calling me again this soon.”

Hearing his voice almost made Becca hang up the phone. Instead, she took a shaky breath and started, “Victor, I-”

“Becca? Hey, what’s wrong?”

She could practically see him straightening up in the armchair near the phone in his living room alongside the concern bleeding into his voice.

“I messed up,” she confessed weakly. “Bad.”

---

“Well, I can’t say I don’t get why he’s mad-”

“Me, too. Frankly, I think I kind of deserve some silent treatment, but I- I just don’t know how to fix it-”

“Let me finish,” Victor said sternly. “I get why he’s mad, but I don’t necessarily think you ‘deserve’ the cold shoulder. You said his father’s there now?”

“Um... mm-hmm?”

“Does he- that is- is Ed… close with him?”

Becca shook her head, then realized Victor couldn’t see her and mumbled, “No. Not really.” She thought for a moment and amended, “Not at all, actually.”

On the other end of the line, Victor hummed knowingly. “Then that’s probably making it worse.”

She swallowed. “Yes, that- that might be possible.”

“You want my honest opinion?”

“Of course.”

“Don’t try to fix it, at least not now.”
“But-!”

“Becca, listen to me, because I’m going to say something that you need to hear, okay? Are you ready?”

“I- I suppose?”

“I love you, Becca. You’re a good kid. But you’re a fixer.”

Becca blinked, mouth opening and closed a few times before she mumbled, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a fixer,” he repeated, then explained, “you like to fix things. Situations, people, the works. And sometimes, honestly, that stuff isn’t any of your business-”

“Hey!”

“And,” Victor interrupted firmly, “you can’t fix them. You shouldn’t fix them. They’re not yours to fix.”

“Like what?!”

“Like when you were seven and I put too much butter in my bread dough by mistake and you tried to transmute the extra out and destroyed the whole thing. That was my mistake that I should have figured out how to fix.”

Her face flushed at that particular memory. “Okay, but-”

“Like when you let Will beat you up time and time again because you think he just needs something to take his rage out on!”

“I do not- I’ve never said anything like that!”

“You don’t have to say it for it to be true! You did it when you stayed with Nora and followed her every wish to keep from stirring the pot. You did it when that colonel of yours got you involved in his personal drama! When Benedict didn’t take care of his own damn debts and you all but sold your soul so your mother could keep the house and life she has and your father could keep what remained of his reputation!”

“I don’t want any of that!” Becca said insistently, frowning into the phone. “I don’t want the house, the life, the reputation; none of that matters to me!”

I know ,” Victor said. He fell silent, but Becca could still hear his heavy breathing. For a few seconds, neither of them said a word, and then he reiterated, “I know you don’t. But Becca… you’ve got to figure out what you do want. Because right now, you do everything for what everyone else wants. Or… what you think everyone else wants you to do. And right now, you think that Ed wants you to come to him, to beg and plead for forgiveness, to grovel to him?”

He hesitated, then asked, “Does that maybe sound a little correct?”

Becca bit her lip. She wouldn’t have put it like that, but she couldn’t exactly say he was wrong in his assumption. The phone fell away from her ear, resting on her shoulder. Vaguely, she could hear Victor calling her name and she almost hung up, but instead took a deep, shuddering breath, put the receiver back by her mouth and, like she was pulling out her own tooth, admitted, “Maybe a little.”

“Mm-hmm.” 

“But if- if I can’t fix things, then… what do I do?”

“You just… you put your trust in others. You have to have enough faith in those that care about you that they’ll come to you when they’re ready. If you-- forgive the crassness-- continue to butt in, you might push them away.” Victor didn’t even sound smug. That was the worst part, Becca thought. He wasn’t proud of the fact that he was right. He sounded… relieved that she hadn’t shut him down at once and even soothed, “It’s not something you can change overnight, that’s not what I want you to think. And it’s not something I expect you to change overnight. It’s just… something to think about, okay?”

Rubbing the pendant on her choker, Becca swallowed thickly, then affirmed, “I will.” After a minute, she added, “Thank you… for saying that. I think I needed to hear it. And if- if I can’t fix this situation with Ed… what do I do now?”

“You have to wait for him,” he advised, a wince audible in his voice since he could most definitely predict how much she didn’t want to do that. “From everything you’ve told me, he cares about you. Give him the space he asked for, but- but maybe let him know you’re there. Whenever he’s ready.”

“Al- alright,” she said, letting out a long breath. “Alright,” she repeated with a stronger voice. “I’ll do that. Thanks, Victor.”

“Anytime. And if you ever want to go on a slightly offensive rant about one of my flaws, if you can find one, shoot me a call.”

She giggled, the first time she had in the entire conversation. “Yeah, I’ll call you to knock some sense into your head about that ego.”

“Oh, you can try, squirt.”

“I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Bye, Becca.”

---

To be honest, Becca was just glad the bedroom door wasn’t locked when she knocked. Ed grunted for her to come in and, when she stepped past the threshold, found him-- or rather, didn’t find him-- behind a drawn curtain around his bed. She took a few steps inside, but didn’t sit down on hers.

“I am sorry, Ed,” she started. “For- for lying, for going along with the colonel, for running away. And- and I’m sorry I pushed you earlier. I won’t do that anymore. But I just… I hope you know that I’ll be waiting for you whenever-- if ever-- you’re ready.”

Ed didn’t say anything. Becca couldn’t deny that that made her heart clench and she had to repress another slew of apologies.

Victor’s right, she kept telling herself. He doesn’t need my apology right now.

“Okay,” she said. “Okay. Dinner’s probably gonna be up soon.”

No response.

“Okay,” she said softer, grabbing a book and heading back out to the living room where one Van Hohenheim was reading a local newspaper on an overstuffed armchair.

He looked up as she came in, shooting her a wry smile that she pointedly did not return. “I wouldn’t take it personally, Rebecca. Edward has always been too stubborn for his own good. I believe that’s why we don’t get along.”

“You think that a toddler was too stubborn for you to get along with?” Becca asked, horrified.

“Well-”
“That is- that’s ridiculous! You-”

Victor’s advice echoed back to her. You can’t fix them. You shouldn’t fix them. Becca took a deep breath in her nose, then out through her mouth, and said, “You know what? This is not my business. It’s not my job to tell you what’s wrong with your relationship with your sons. It’s not my job to try and make it better for you. That’s between you three.” Meeting his eyes, she hardened her gaze as much as she could. “But it is my job to support them-- not you-- in whatever their choices are. If you want my advice, though, understand that they don’t owe you anything and you should be grateful for whatever they give you.”

Like I am, she thought venomously.

“Because those boys are a gift. One that neither of us deserves.”

And then she walked away.

And it felt good.

---

Dinner, somehow, was more awkward than lunch. Even Pinako gave up trying to make conversation and they all sat and ate their stew (probably made by Pinako for Ed’s sake) lost in their own thoughts. Afterwards, though, when they’d dispersed, Becca found her way out to Winry’s balcony. She was in the middle of counting stars when she heard the door creak open behind her and whirled around, opening her mouth to apologize if she wasn’t supposed to be out here.

Once she saw it was Ed, she relaxed. Then she tensed up again.

“Hey,” he said, voice rough and a little high pitched. “Can we talk?”

Becca straightened up, pushing off the railing at once. “Yes- yes! Here?”

“Um…” His eyes flicked down to the rings of smoke from Pinako smoking a pipe on the front porch. “Maybe we could go inside?”

“Sure!” Becca chirped. She winced, trying to tone down the energy level. “I mean, of course. Our room?”

“That’s fine.”

When they got there, however, the awkward air hardly dissipated. Becca was the one to break it.
“Ed, I- I’m so sorry,” she started.

“You already apologized, Bex.”

“I know, but… can I just get everything off my chest?”

Seated on the edge of her bed, shoulders a few centimeters away from brushing hers, Ed smiled tiredly. “Alright, fine. But I get to go next, okay?”

“Okay,” Becca agreed.

She took a moment to gather thoughts, then launched into her explanation. She talked him through the night after he’d left her with Mustang, the day she’d hopped off the train, and the day spent recovering. She told him about how Will had become one of them, how she and Al made up, how Havoc wasn’t doing too hot the last time she’d seen him but they were still hoping for the best when he woke up, and how she managed to reach some sort of understanding with Mustang after all was said and done.

“It felt awful to lie to you,” she confessed. “But I-I can’t afford to get court martialed. I know that’s not an excuse-”

Ed’s arms were around her before she could even finish her sentence. She stiffened.

“I’ll never lie to you again,” she swore. “I promise. It was just- Mustang, he-”

“Bex, it’s okay. I forgive you… and I‘m sorry too,” he was mumbling into her shoulder. “You were just doing your job. And- and today, I’ve been terrible . He’s just- he’s here and it shocked me-”

“No, no, I deserved at least a little bit of that,” she said, chuckling, as she finally managed to pick her arms up and returned the embrace, turning and tucking herself into his neck.

“No, you did not-”

“Don’t worry, I already called Victor and he chewed me out about what I deserve,” she reassured. “I got some things to work on, but… it was important for me to hear. And it helped me a lot.”

“Did you pass some of it on to the old man?” he asked teasingly.

Becca pulled back, staring him in the face, surprise blooming on her face. “You heard that?”

“Yeah? Was I not supposed to?”

Her face burned as she stuttered out, “Well- well, I guess- I don’t- I don’t know!”

Ed, the little shit he was, burst out laughing.

“Shut up! You wanted your turn so badly, you explain where you’ve been!” Becca said, crossing her arms over her chest indignantly.

So he did. And that was… a lot to take in. Ross going to Xing. A slum full of Ishvalans briefly holding him captive. The true fates of Winry’s parents. A huge, stone-carved transmutation circle, broken in the middle of the abandoned city of Xerxes. Most baffling was another apology right at the end.

“And I am sorry for not talking to you earlier,” he said seriously. “Hohenheim being here-- it set me off. I was still upset with you and he added stress-”

“I understand. I forgive you,” she echoed. “Next time though… please don’t shut me out. I hate not being able to be there for the people I love. So you don’t have to talk to me but… just trust me to be there for you, if you can?”

“‘Course I can,” Ed scoffed, slinging an arm over her shoulders and squeezing her tight. “I promise.”

The pair sat, quiet except for the natural nocturnal sounds outside. Becca didn’t know what Ed was thinking, but she was deep in thought. If she had promised not to lie anymore…

“Hey, Ed?”

“Hm?”

“While we’re getting things off our chest, I- um- I have something I need to tell you.”

---

“The Fuhrer said what ?!”

“That my debt is so big that if I don’t pay it, I pay with my life?”
“It was rhetorical!” Wide-eyed, Ed ran an anxious hand through his hair. He was frantic and near vengeful against the country as a whole, and Becca had to calm him down. “That can’t be legal!”

“It’s the Fuhrer,” she said quietly. “He can do whatever he wants.”

“Becca, why on Earth would you take this lying down?!”

“What else could I have done?” she countered.

Ed blinked, seemingly at a loss for words, then, slowly, his shoulders sank. His posture weakened. “Why didn’t you tell us? Me and Al would have helped you.”

“I know you would have,” she said gently, reaching up and smoothing the furrow around his brow with her thumb. “But at the time, it didn’t seem like a problem because, hey, it’s not like I had anything else going on, so I never planned on quitting. And it didn’t seem like your job to care. Eventually, it had just been too long. I couldn’t tell you because I didn’t think you’d understand why I’d kept it from you, and I didn’t want to lose you guys.”

Slowly, he reached up with his flesh hand, taking Becca’s hand from his forehead and clasping it between them as if he was seeing it for the first time. His eyes fixed on their joined hands momentarily, then flicked up to meet hers with that same curious expression, and he asked, “What changed?”

“Victor told me that I needed to start doing things that- that I want,” Becca avowed. “And I don’t know what exactly that is yet, but I know I don’t want to do this forever. I- I want to be free. When you and Al leave, I want to go with you.”

Gold eyes warmed at once and a small smile drifted over his face. “You will. We’ll fight this, all of us. We won’t leave you behind.”

Without her permission, Becca’s face warmed up again as well. At least she smiled along with him before she threw her arms around him again, this time the force taking them both flat onto the mattress. Ed shouted, falsely offended, but laughing nonetheless.

“Thank you,” she said, unable to suppress a grin. “For everything.”

That made Ed blush, unless the red of the setting sun was messing with Becca’s perception, and he turned away. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. No more secrets?”

“No more secrets.”

Chapter 32: wabi-sabi

Notes:

happy thursday my dears!!!

is this coming out so late at night because i thought this chapter was due next week until the reminder on my calendar went off a few minutes ago and therefore thought i was super ahead having a whole chapter done a week early? ...yeah basically. anyways college is great and so far it hasn't been too too busy, so hopefully i'll be able to maintain an updating schedule but in this crazy world who knows? don't worry, i'll do my best to keep y'all updated.

lots of ups and downs in the chapter today, but i think it ends happily enough and finally brings us to a momentary break in constant angst and sadness, so i hope y'all enjoy!

wabi-sabi (noun)- the discovery of beauty in imperfection, the acceptance of the cycle of life and death

Chapter Text

Somehow, they’d fallen asleep, sank down onto the pillows between whispered comforts.

“I missed you… I’m sorry… Don’t leave again?... I’ll come back when I do…”

Becca only registered that they’d slipped out of consciousness, though, when she came back into it and woke up to Ed collapsing to the floor, hand clasped over his mouth as his shoulders heaved.

Becca was wide awake in an instant, on her knees next to him before she could blink. 

“What happened?” she whispered. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“He- he -” He shuddered, squeezing his eyes shut. “That bastard downstairs-”

Apparently so incensed he couldn’t even finish his sentence, Ed trailed off into pained, breathy pants rather than words, leaving Becca to rub his back while he tried to collect himself. She glanced around, ears pricking up to listen for immediate threats of which there were none she could pick up on.

“What did he do?” Becca asked when it appeared Ed was ready to talk.

“That- he said- the-” he stuttered, still breathing off-kilter, but at least able to tilt his head up and meet her eyes. “The… result of our transmutation- it might not have been Mom.”

Becca froze. Then her hand crept up to cover her own mouth before she said something she might regret. Still, she did manage to choke out a muffled, “He just dropped that on you? At what, three am? True or not, he had no right-”

Saying it outloud, though, only seemed to make it worse, since Ed curled in on himself, forcing Becca to adjust her hold in order to keep him in her arms. “No, he was- he asked Granny if she was sure it was- it was her that she b- buried and I overheard,” he gasped quietly. “Dunno why he was asking, but- but he probably wouldn’t have even bothered to tell me and Al-”

The thought of his brother caused tears-- actual tears, Becca was shocked to see-- to flood his gold eyes, which he was quick to hide by shoving his head into her shoulder with mumbles of, “How ‘m I s’posed to tell him that it might- everything our mistake cost him and it might have been an even bigger failure-? And after that bastard said we ran away -”

“He said what ?!” 

Far too often, Becca reflected, she found herself in the uncomfortable position where nothing she could say would make this situation any better. Shifting once more so he was more on top of her than draped over her, Becca ran a hand through his hair, let loose for their interrupted sleep, but kept her mouth shut. No amount of “it’ll be okay”s would make the sentiment true, so she didn’t offer the empty platitude. Ed would only find it insulting come the morning anyway.

When the telltale sound of a creaky floorboard sounded on the staircase, both of them perked up. Ed was quick to flop back down onto Becca, feigning sleep with his back to the door. Over his shoulder, Becca watched the door creak open and a wide, bespectacled face peer through the gap. With her arms still wrapped around him, still stroking his hair, she easily felt him stiffen up. She knew he knew Hohenheim was there.

Becca could feel in her gut that Hohenheim knew they both knew what had just happened.

And she hated him all the more for it.

Because whether or not he thought Ed was sleeping (and Becca was 90% sure he didn’t), he looked her straight in the face and plainly said, “They needed to know.”

His eyes flickered down to Ed, who twitched under his gaze and inhaled deeply against Becca’s collarbone. She suppressed a shiver at the sensation and scolded herself: Not the time!

Sparing one more… almost longing look around the bedroom, Hohenheim gently closed the door behind him. The wooden floors continued to creak as he made his way upstairs to whichever spare room he was staying in. It was only when noise ceased throughout the whole house, signalling that Hohenheim, Pinako, and even Den were all fast asleep, that Ed’s panicked breathing picked back up.

However, she supposed, what goes up must come down and, eventually, after a while where Ed’s shoulders shook and Becca politely pretended she didn’t feel the shoulder of her shirt getting wetter and wetter with every moment, the smothered, shaky breaths, just a hair's breadth away from stifled sobs, gradually evened out ever so slightly and he slipped back into a fitful sleep. Being as careful as she could not to wake him up again but also starting to lose feeling in her hands for holding them up for so long, Becca moved Ed one more time, shifting him closer to the junction of her neck and shoulder rather than the firm bone and swivelling so she could at least rest against the bed since it wasn’t like she was going to leave him alone on the cold floor after the night they’d had.

She tugged a blanket off the bed with one hand, wrapping it around them, then reached for a pillow with the other and tucked it behind her head. With a preemptive sigh for the inevitable mess the sun would bring, Becca tilted her head back to the pillow and, to the tune of Ed’s slightly more regular breathing, allowed herself to drift back to sleep.

---

“Edward! Get up, your father’s about to leave! Come say goodbye!”
Becca groaned. Her legs were buzzing with pins and needles. Her neck was sore from how it had tilted against the bed, and her mouth was dry. But Ed was still asleep, snoring lightly into her skin as she sat up, the arm that wasn’t wrapped around him coming up to rub her eyes, and she aimed to keep it that way. So she picked up where she’d left off, stroking his hair as Pinako’s footsteps faded down the hall, back to the front of the house.

“Mmm… Bex?”

“I’m here,” she mumbled. She turned her head and, in her still sleepy state, pressed her lips to his temple before laying her head back down atop his. “It’s still early. Go back to sleep.”

Exhaling contentedly, Ed burrowed in a little deeper and reached out to tighten the blanket around them, and Becca just followed his lead.

Waking up for good was heralded, again, by Pinako calling for them, this time right outside the door and accompanied by a series of insistent knocks. “Ed! Your father’s long gone, no more excuses! Up you get!”

Ed wheezed himself awake, jolting up and startling Becca. In his panic, his fist clasped on the blanket and effectively trapped both of them underneath it. In the corner of her mind, she noticed how the autumn sun coming through the window combined with their body heats and the thick wool covering them made the room a little stifling, but she was mostly focused on the tightly wound boy in her lap.

“Ed, everything’s fine,” she said quickly, sitting up and grabbing Ed’s metal hand. One by one, she pried each finger off of the comforter, then pushed it off of them, lifting a bit of the uncomfortable heat. He still wasn’t moving except for the slight rise and fall of his chest, where his other hand rested until Becca guided both to a more relaxed position. She rubbed his flesh forearm like one would during winter.

“‘M- ‘m sorry. For last night,” he muttered.

“I didn’t mind. I would never mind.” She moved her thigh and nudged him towards the floor. “But I have lost all feeling in my lower limbs, which I do mind just a little, so do you want to…?”

“Ah,” Ed said, chuckling dryly. “Yeah, of course.” He glanced out the window, tracking the sun in the sky, then stretched both arms up as she stood and offered Becca a hand. “I guess we should-”
“Edward, Rebecca! Last call for breakfast!”

“Get going,” he finished, then shouted, “Alright, Granny, we heard you!”

Becca pulled herself up, smiling exasperatedly. “Yep, let’s go.”

The aforementioned lack of feeling in her legs decided to bite her in the ass then, sending both of them tumbling back to the ground.

---

“Good morning, you two.” Pinako clearly knew something was wrong over breakfast since that was the only remark she made. For one thing, Ed wasn’t shovelling his food into his mouth like normal. For the second thing, the slightly comfortable air from the bedroom has dissipated, leaving a heavy silence but for the clicking of cutlery. So when Ed put his spoon down and cleared his throat, the rest of the table followed suit.

“So, um, Granny,” he said. “I was- I was hoping I could get your help with something.”

“What is it?”

Ed braced himself, then blurted out, “I want to dig up our transmutation.”

A shaky breath floated past Becca’s lips. She’d known something like that was no doubt coming-- when his father had made such a claim, how could it not? This idea of his was hardly reassuring; still, when Pinako gave a solemn nod (knowing her, she’d sensed this was coming just as much as Becca had) and Ed turned to her, she did the same.

“After we eat a good breakfast,” the old woman said, tucking back into her oatmeal. “And keep an eye on the weather. Radio said it’d rain pretty bad today, but it might hold out for us.”

Indeed, when they’d finally made it out the door with shovels in hand, dark gray clouds had totally overtaken the sun. Thunder had started rumbling in the distance by the time they’d reached the Elrics’ old home.

“It’s around here. I didn’t bury it too deep,” Pinako said somberly, gesturing to a large, cleared area among the ash stained stones and overgrown grass. She looked up, forcing Ed to meet her eyes. “You’re sure you want to do this?”

Ed made a sound of affirmation as he looked away. “My ports are starting to ache. We’ve gotta get started if we want to finish before the rain starts.”

---

They couldn’t beat the rain. The first few drops came slowly, but there was hardly enough time for Pinako to take note of it before it got much worse. Ed insisted they push on, even though his muscles had begun to quake, though Becca couldn’t tell if it was from cold, exhaustion, stress, or an amalgamation of all three.

That answer wound up coming on rather strongly a few minutes later when Ed stood up, stumbled away from the shallow hole he’d been digging, leaned heavily onto his shovel, and promptly vomited, lurching forward into the puddle before Becca and Pinako could catch him.

“Ed!” they exclaimed in unison as they each dropped their shovel and rushed to his side.

“Ugh… that didn’t feel good… feels like something’s twisted up in my gut...” he moaned, more to himself than to either of them. He instinctively cringed away from their touch and grabbed his shovel, using it as leverage to get back on his feet. “Keep digging,” he demanded, jaw clenched, as he limped to another spot to start again. “We’re going to find them.”

Becca bit her lip, sharing a look with Pinako. On one hand, she knew firsthand the drive that came from situations like these. She knew what Ed was feeling. How the motivation to solve the problem, answer the question, or fix the issue overrode survival instincts. On the other hand, while she knew what Ed was feeling-- she’d been there, many times-- and in those situations, at least in recent years, someone had been there to pull her out of that dangerous mindset. More often than not, it had been Ed himself.

So their roles had to be reversed today. That was fine. She could do that. “Ed, this can’t be healthy,” she tried to interject. “The past few days have been rough, you need to rest after-”

Pinako was more frank. “You’re mentally drained, boy. Let’s stop until this rain calms down. It’s still going to be there after the storm.”

“I can do it!” he said sharply, then took a deep, bone shuddering breath and muttered, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. I just- I need to do this. I can’t run away anymore. What kind of alchemist would I be if I gave up searching for the truth now?”

Swallowing back her frustration, Becca tried to clear her head as she fought the urge to keep arguing (You never ran away, I understand what you want, but you wouldn’t let me do this if I tried, I know I can’t talk but you’ve taught me to know better, please let me help you) and ultimately kept her mouth shut.
“But-” Pinako protested. Becca laid a hand on her shoulder and shook her head.

Later, she promised herself, picking her shovel back up. He’d need to be pulled away later, but doing so now would probably only make him drive his heels into both the literal and metaphorical dirt more and more if they tried now.

So they started again. The stitches in Becca’s arm pulled at her skin with every rough movement, but she kept on. Every few minutes, Ed would straighten up and heave, although nothing else came out since he’d already thrown up the meal they’d just had. When he hacked and coughed, Becca stood up, only to cringe as she noticed bile rather than food remnants dripping down his chin.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Becca said, grabbing his arm and tugging him to stand up straight.

Well, as straight as he could, given that he pitched sideways onto Becca’s shoulder as soon as the opportunity was available to him. Still, he protested, trying to push himself back up. “No, I gotta- I gotta-”

“No,” she said firmly. “I’m putting my foot down, you need to take a rest. Sit.”

“But-”

“Sit down, Ed.” She glanced down at him and added a small, “Please? Just for a few minutes?”

He grumbled and shot her a reproachful look, but when thunder shook the hill they stood on and he flinched away from the sound, Becca eased him to sit down in the mud with admittedly low regards to how he felt on the subject, and it was rather easy to ignore his downturned mouth when it twisted into pained grimace. He retched again and more bile spattered at the base of the burned tree, Becca rubbing his back.

“It’s alright,” she said over the rain falling around them as he began to shiver. Wincing, she reached over and began to rub up and down his arms in her best attempt to warm him up, despite the wet clothes and quickly dropping temperature. “Just take a breather. You’re alright.”

“Ed!” Pinako called, holding up a fragment of bone in their direction. “I’ve got it!”

At that point, nothing Becca could have done would have stopped Ed. Come hell or high water, he was getting himself over to where Pinako had begun digging further into the earth than they had the entire rest of the storm, so really, what was she to do except for make sure he didn’t break an ankle on the way over? She slung his arm over her shoulder and helped him limp over, easing him onto the ground before he got the opportunity to collapse on his own.

She realized too late that their shovels were still left where they’d fallen by the burned tree, but Ed had already dove into digging, mud squelching into the joints of his automail hand until he grasped a clump of dark hair and scrambled backwards to dunk it in the bucket of clean water they’d toted up the hill. He scrubbed at it viciously, to the point where bits had separated and floated up to the surface.

“Here,” Becca said, manhandling the hair away from him. “Your hands are all muddy, they’ll only make it dirtier.”

Scowling, he at least relented and let her take charge, washing out all the filth she could, though it made little difference. No matter how much she rubbed the hair between the pads of her fingers, it stayed the same shade of muddy brown it had been when it was pulled out of the dark soil. Ed hadn’t moved from over Becca’s shoulder, his chin almost resting on her, eyes burning holes into her hands as they worked to no avail.

“Granny,” he said quietly. He reached over Becca, much more gentle this time, and took the strands back, pulling them out of the now polluted bucket. “Mom had chestnut brown hair. And this… this is almost black.”

“What do you want to do, Ed?” Pinako said in lieu of a response. “You can call it now, or we can keep digging and find everything. We can leave now and come back another time.”

“No- no, I want to keep going. I have to keep going. I have to be sure.”

“Then grab your shovel.”

---

The corpse wasn’t even female, much less Trisha Elric. That much was obvious the more Pinako examined it. Her mind was flooded with fury on the brothers’ behalf-- at who, she wasn’t sure. The universe? God? The Truth? (She supposed those were all apparently the same thing, but she was pissed either way.) It- it wasn’t fair! They’d lost everything and then some, all for an all-encompassing love of the woman they’d tried to resurrect, and for what? 

Equivalent Exchange, her ass.

While she got angry, for some reason, the revelation made Ed laugh. It definitely wasn’t a happy sound, no, but when his shoulders had started to shake, Becca had anticipated sobs, so the disbelieving cackles took her off-guard.

“Ed?” she asked cautiously.

Mumbling into the ground, it was almost impossible to hear what Ed was saying, so Becca knelt down beside him and bent closer, her ear as close to his mouth as she could get, “It was never possible, human transmutation. Those who die can’t be brought back to life. Why did I even try?”

“Calm down, clear your head,” Pinako advised. “It’s not fair, but I’m sure-”

“I am,” he said, taking a long breath and then sitting up, “I am calm. I don’t think I’ve been this calm in a long time.” Twisting a bit, he cast a look at the collection of bones they’d managed to find, all arranged into a vaguely human shape for the sake of Pinako’s physician’s eye. Initially, Becca followed his eyes, but she couldn’t help the near-instinctual flicker back to his golden irises. Where a few hours there had been pain, all of a sudden, was filled with the shine of exhausted happiness. She tilted her head, brow furrowing in confusion, but didn’t say anything. Didn’t push.

“You know, they’ve been a monolith of hopelessness for so long,” he noted, gesturing to the result of the transmutation, “but now… now they’re a symbol of hope.”

“Hope?” Pinako said incredulously. “What exactly are you hoping for with that?”

His eyes glinted. “This is proof, proof that Al can be returned back to normal.”

Okay, Becca wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting him to say, but it certainly wasn’t that. Her mouth opened and closed a few times without sound coming out until she admitted, “You lost me.”

“It’s just a theory and- and I have to confirm it, but first-” He picked up his shovel, stabbing it into the ground and sliding back into the hole they’d dug, “-I want to make a grave. They were- they moved. For a second, they looked at me.”

Becca frowned. He’d never told her that before. The result of her transmutation hadn’t moved, not that she remembered. Of course, she wasn’t fully focused in the moment, but still- was her transmutation-?

“That means they were alive for at least a second,” he continued, oblivious to Becca’s imminent perplexity. “They were human, so- so I’d like to give them that respect.”

Still looking a little miffed herself, Pinako nodded and allowed, “Whatever you want. The rain’s lightening up, so we might as well finish now. No use in going home and cleaning ourselves up just to come out and roll around in the mud again.”

---

After everyone had a warm bath back at the house, Becca perched on the arm of the couch for moral support while Ed called his teacher. He’d been sort of… out of it since they’d returned with a faraway look on his face and taking a few seconds to respond to anyone’s prompts, although that state of mind made a bit more sense when he mentioned needing to talk to Izumi.

The conversation was short, awkward, and came to a quick end; when Ed hesitantly asked if Izumi was sure that what she’d transmuted in her human transmutation attempt was truly her lost child, Becca heard her slam the phone down from her spot a few feet away. Both teens winced and Becca shot Ed a sympathetic look.

“She might just be shocked,” she provided.

“Right.” Dropping down next to her, Ed was quick to pull his legs up, curling up with a pillow. “What about you?” he asked. “Do you think you actually transmuted your stepmom?”

Becca made a face, then slid sideways, off of the arm and onto the cushions, effectively crashing into Ed to make room for herself. He let out a sharp bark of laughter and scooted over accommodatingly, at least loosening up a little bit after the disastrous phone call.

In terms of answering his question, though, Becca paused to think about it for a moment and admitted, “Honestly, I- I think I always knew that whatever I created wouldn't have been Louisa, not really. Not how she was in life.” She’d had doubts about the experiment from the start, but so many factors had made her hold her tongue; her father’s expectations, the escape daydreams of a successful result provided, and a tiny sliver of naive hope. “I think I knew that, but I didn’t know I knew it until the transmutation was already underway.

“Truth sort of confirmed it for me, when I actually… did it,” she continued. “It told me that nothing I could have given would have been equivalent to her. So even if what I did create was alive, it couldn’t have been her. The equation wouldn’t have balanced properly with what I was able to give.”

Ed pressed, “You don’t think they were ever alive?”

“I thought about that when we were walking back,” she said as she leaned into him, tucking her feet up under herself as well. “I believe you when you say yours was alive,” With a listless shrug, she sank a little further into the cushion, “but I guess my father and I really just created a body when it comes down to it.”

“Ah,” he said in a quiet voice. He wrapped an arm around her shoulder and squeezed gently. “Sorry to bring it up, I just-”

“No, no, I understand. And I- I accepted what happened a long time ago. As weird as it is, my Truth was brutal, but it was at least honest. And like I said, mine was never alive, so it could have been easier for me.”

“Yeah… I wonder why yours didn’t come alive, though. If you don’t mind, could you talk me through it? Maybe there was something you did differently.”

She nodded thoughtfully. “‘Course.”

When she got to the components that went into the transmutation, Ed interrupted, “Wait, you didn’t put blood or anything into it?”

“Mm-mm. We thought we might need some of her DNA, so we used her hair. You think that made the difference?”

Biting his lip, Ed considered for a second and suggested, “It sort of makes sense both ways. Mixing mine and Al’s blood could have been why ours resulted in a male that didn’t resemble either of us, but maybe it was also some sort of… like, life ingredient.”

Becca hummed. She could definitely see where he was coming from with the differences between Ed, Al, and their creation, but, “Isn’t it still just DNA? I don’t really see what that has to do with life that hair wouldn’t.”

“Well, I was also thinking about that.” He leaned back a little, though he didn’t remove his arm from around her, and let his eyes wander to the window, where they could barely see the site of the Elrics’ home. “Just by the fact that Al exists as he does now, we know there has to be at least two parts, so to speak, of human consciousness-- a mind and a body, right?”

“That makes sense to me.”

“And acknowledging those as two entities that can exist separately implies that there’s a third piece of the puzzle; something should link between them. I need to talk to Al to confirm it, but there’d have to be. He remembers things from before our transmutation and he’s able to form new memories.”

Thread by thread, the idea he was trying to weave took shape in Becca’s mind as well. She blinked, looking up at him with eyes widening. “So you think-?”

“That’s the soul,” he confirmed. “And it could be that I was only able to transmute Al’s soul because his blood was already involved.” He sighed, running his free hand through his hair. “It’s hardly definitive, but-”

“But that’s a solid theory,” Becca said quickly. “Really solid. Of course, you should still talk to Al and- and Izumi when she returns your call.”

If she returns my call,” Ed pointed out with a frown.

Becca smiled sadly, reaching over and smoothing the lines on his forehead, but said nothing.

---

Not surprisingly, the activities during that day led to an early night for all of them.

More surprisingly, though, was that Becca woke up alone. She sat up slowly, rubbing at her eyes and pushing the curtain aside to find that Ed’s side of the room was already empty. Even his boots were gone from the foot of the bed.

Her heart skipped a beat. Had something gone wrong? Where would he have gone without her? She thought they’d worked things out after the argument, but maybe-

She shook her head, forcing herself to take a deep breath. When she focused, she could hear someone bustling around the house. She wasn’t alone. Everything was fine. Pulling her cardigan tighter around her, she slid out of the bed and, upon coming in contact with the chilly floor, rooted around in her backpack for a clean pair of socks before plodding out to the living room.

Pinako glanced up from the book she was reading as Becca entered, smiling warmly. “Good morning,” she greeted. “How do you feel?”

“Um… fine?”

Raising her eyebrow, Pinako gave her a look like she expected more of a reaction. She stared for a moment, which Becca could only return with one of her own until something clicked and Pinako broke and chortled to herself. 

Becca blinked, then pouted a bit. “What?”

“Ah,” she said through the laughter, “nothing, dear. Are you hungry?”

“I- I suppose. Do you want any help?”

“No, no, sit down. I’ll fix something quickly.”

Still a bit bewildered, Becca obeyed. Then she suddenly remembered why she’d even left her room in the first place, turned over her shoulder, and tried to call, “Wait, Pinako, have you-” as the door swung shut behind the old woman.

“I’ll be back in a moment!” she said through the wood. “Sit right there!”

“I-”

“Do not move!”

Well, what was she supposed to do with that command? 

“...Okay?”

---

She could hear the front door creak open from where she’d migrated to an armchair and stood up at once, peering out the window even though whoever had come in had already shut the door behind them. Crossing the room, she pressed her ear to the door, but their voices were too muffled. Pinako must have already ushered them into the kitchen.

Becca huffed as she plopped back into her chair, arms folded across her chest. Something was happening and Pinako, at least, was hiding it from her. It was more than likely that Ed knew as well, since no one else really had an excuse to be at the house this early.

He could be avoiding her again, she supposed, shifting uncomfortably. She wasn’t sure why, but it was definitely possible with all the ups and downs of the last 72 hours. Was there something she’d forgotten to tell him, to apologize for? Had Al called and changed his mind?

All her worries screeched to an abrupt halt when Ed slammed the door open, face flushed, breaths heavy, and voice indignant. “You were supposed to sleep in!”

“Uh- sorry? Ed, is everything okay? You guys have been acting weird-”

“‘S fine. Everything’s fine. Great, even,” he said hurriedly, bounding over to her and tugging her up by the arm and out into the hallway. “Now, c’mon, Granny made breakfast.”

“Already?” Becca asked, disoriented, turning around to face him. “But she just started-”

Ed swore under his breath and then-

“Ed! What is going on?” she squawked as she was spun around and her vision went dark. She felt the fabric of his glove over her eyes, as well as the comparatively gentler press of his flesh hand rather than his metal one, which was resting on the small of her back, guiding her through an open door.

“Ready?” he said over her left shoulder.
“For what?!”

“Yep, go ahead,” Pinako replied, sounding like she was holding back a laugh.

Slowly, Ed removed his hand from her eyes, though the one splayed on her back didn’t budge. As she blinked and her eyesight cleared, Becca shook her head and opened her mouth to demand answers until the words froze in her throat. Ed had led her to the kitchen, but the usual plain wooden table had been covered with a white tablecloth and loaded with fresh food, from fruits and cheeses to a still hot loaf of sweet bread. The epicenter of the whole display was a bright bouquet in a colored glass vase.

“Oh…” she whispered. “What…?”

“Oh, my God, you did forget. I thought Granny was kidding,” Ed said from next to her. She frowned, turning to him, only to see him grinning up at her and subsequently having any annoyance at him drain away.

Still, she stuck out her lip and, fake exasperated, finally managed to inquire, “What exactly am I forgetting?”

Ed bumped her forward a few steps towards the chair at the head of the table. “Happy birthday, Bex.”

Becca stopped dead, which only made Ed and Pinako burst out into laughter. “It- it is not !” she said disbelievingly. “Stop that- stop laughing, it’s not- my birthday just happened!”

“It’s been an eventful year,” Ed said, laughing harder and forcing her to sit down since she hadn’t moved from the initial point of shock. “But it has indeed been a year. Now sit, the lady selling the flowers went on and on about the meanings, but I gotta be honest, I tuned her out after two or three, so you gotta double check it and make sure I didn’t screw them up.”

“I’m sure you did fine,” she said, smiling as she finally took her seat and examined the arrangement. She listed each one as she identified it.

“Sunflower: admiration and loyalty; yellow alstroemeria: energy or happiness; white chrysanthemums: loyalty again; pink tulips: affection and well-wishes… she added in some baby breath, I assume both for filler and for sincerity and trust because I’m sure you want me to know how much you trust me and how sincerely you adore me,” she teased a bit, picking one of the small white flowers off and tossing it at him (he retaliated with a small, fond smile of his own), “and you’ve got a pretty perfect bouquet, in my opinion.”

“Sounds like it,” he murmured, eyes trained on Becca’s face.

Her cheeks flushed pink as she broke the eye contact between them, watching her fingers trace over one of the sunflower petals absentmindedly. “Thank you, Ed, really,” she said earnestly. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”

“Alright, that’s enough, you two, the food’s gonna get cold,” Pinako said. She set down a kettle and a mug for Becca’s tea. “Tuck in.”

Becca poured herself enough hot water, then paused. “All my tea bags are in my pack,” she said, standing up. “I’ve got to grab one, but I’ll be right back.”

Her trip to retrieve the tea went off without incident. The way back, however, was not. As she passed the open living room door, the phone rang, and Becca figured she’d pick up and field the call to Pinako if necessary.

“Rockbell Prosthetic Limb Outfitters,” she greeted. “How can I help you?”

“Illusion, is that you?”

“Colonel? You have updates?”

“Unfortunately,” Mustang said on the other end of the line. “They put Havoc in a coma for now, but that’s not the news most pertaining to you. Your brother’s been permanently assigned.”

Leaning against the wall, her free hand floated up to massage her temples. “I assume it’s not what we’d hoped for?”

“Far from it. He’s been assigned as one of the Fuhrer’s personal guards.”

“You’re joking.”

“I am not. As much as I hate to say it, the bastard-”

“Okay.”

“- he’s not going anywhere. And yours and Fullmetal’s absences are going to be noticed soon. You’ll have to return and we can all just hope he’ll be kept too busy by Fuhrer Bradley to even think about you for the foreseeable future.”

“A-alright. I’ll pass the message on.”

“And Illusion?”

“Yes, sir?”

“You’re fifteen today, correct?”

“How the hell- how do you know that?”

“Do you not remember having to turn over your birth certificate when you signed on?” Colonel Mustang snarked.

“No, I just meant- well-” She would not admit to him that she’d forgotten her own birthday to him, especially if he’d somehow remembered. She just wouldn’t.

Still, she got the feeling he knew anyway since he gave a low chuckle and simply added, “Well done making it this far, try not to die before sixteen.”

That was probably as close to birthday wishes Mustang would ever give her, but he sure wasn’t getting a thank you for the substitute, so all she said was, “I’ll do my best,” and hung up. Then she sighed, pushed herself off of the wall, and shouted, “Ed? Colonel Mustang says we’ve got to head back to Central!”

“Colonel Smart-Ass can wait until after breakfast!” he shouted back.

Becca grinned. How lucky she was, to exist in the same sphere as one Edward Elric. A few days away had only made his presence even more thrilling, so she pushed her shoulders back, took a few breaths, and hurried back to their tiny celebration.

---

“Winry’s training in Rush Valley is certainly showing,” Pinako said as she put her tools away. “I daresay she’s already improved your automail just during your last maintenance check.”

Pausing in the middle of shrugging his jacket back on, Ed asked, “Did she call to ask you to look at it?”

The old woman scoffed. “Of course not,” she said. “She’s just like you, never calls. I can just tell from examining the limb. Doesn’t it feel different?”

“A little lighter, I guess.” He swivelled back and forth, letting both arms swing along with him. “I don’t know, this isn’t my area of expertise. It feels fine, as long as you say it’s still in working order after the desert.”

“Then don’t worry, it’s still in good shape,” Pinako assured. She pushed herself up from the floor, Becca swooping in to lend an arm. Pinako patted her hand in thanks, then asked, “So that colonel is forcing you back to Central already? Doesn’t he know you’ve all had a rough go of it lately? I think you’ve earned a break. He should be sending Al and Winry out here, in my opinion!”

“You tell ‘em, Granny,” Ed said fondly. “I’ll get him on the line.”

“Mustang’s not so bad,” Becca protested. Ed rolled his eyes, and she defended, “Most of the time. The last few weeks have been an outlier. And now he wants us to actually be involved.”

Ed scoffed. “Like I’d want to help him.”

---

“Just give him a shot when we get back,” Becca requested, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye as they waved to Pinako from the train platform, “please?”

“Who?” Ed asked without returning the gesture.

“Who do you think? The colonel.”

“I thought we were done with that discussion. If he wants my help that badly, he can ask for it himself.”

“That’s not what I’m saying,” she said exasperatedly. She remembered Victor’s advice to, in crude terms, butt out and said, “It’s not my place to get you to forgive him. Or work with him. I’m just saying he’s going to try and explain, and you might be inclined to hear him out.”

Ed glared for a few more seconds before breaking and sighing heavily as their train pulled into the station. “He can talk. I might listen.”

Smiling softly, Becca grabbed his hand and tugged him into a car, then checked their tickets and found their seats. “That’s all I ask. You can think of that as your present to me.”

“Wha- I got you flowers!” He grinned, shoving her playfully. “You said they were perfect!”

Becca burst out laughing, pushed him back, and insisted, “They were! I loved them! They’re in my bag, I’m gonna press them when I have access to all my books! I’m just saying, if you won’t do it for yourself, then that’s a way you can rationalize it-”

While she was babbling, Ed had shifted slightly so he was tilted, gazing at her side profile. Her voice faded out when she noticed he was looking.

“...What?” she asked with a small chuckle.

“I- um- Bex?”

“Hm?”

Face going redder by the second, Ed stuttered a few times until Becca prodded, “You okay? You- you’re making me nervous.”

“I did have another idea.”

“For what?”

“Your birthday, of course.”

“Ah,” she said, relaxing a little, “Ed, you already went out of your way. You don’t have to-”

Before she could finish, he had already swooped forward, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek and making her cheeks flush bright red to match his. She could feel his breath against the wispy hairs falling out of her bun as he hesitated near her and murmured, “Happy birthday, Becca Harper.”

---

A few hours later, Ed had dozed off on her shoulder and she was doing her best not to jostle his precarious sleeping state as she nudged her jacket off and pondered the half-filled carnation. She’d intended to leave the flower as it was-- two-toned carnations were said to mean “I cannot be with you” and, she considered, maybe she had enough melancholy images on her back.

Marigolds: grief.

Zinnias: thoughts of absent friends.

Bluebells: humility.

Rosemary: Remembrance.

She traced the stitches running halfway up the petals, then pulled out her needle and thread in a split second decision to fill in the rest.

Carnations: strength, safety.

Chapter 33: gunnen

Notes:

happy very late thursday, my dears!!!

once again, it's 11:49 pm but still thursday. college has been busy and i had a lil bit of writer's block but i'm not unhappy with this at all, so here you go <3. i have the next few plotted out until the next thing i'm real hyped about, so i promise i'm doing my best to keep up, but i really do sort of just want to skip ahead to the gluttony arc which is still a few chapters away ✌️😔.

gunnen (verb)- to think someone deserves something, to witness or acknowledge someone's success or enjoyment without envy or grudge

Chapter Text

Becca had known about Al’s missing arm. She’d been there when it fell off. But the canvas covering the lower part of his helmet and the grinding sound every time he moved? That was new.

“What the hell happened to you?!”

“How are you worse off than when I left?”

“And what are you doing here?!” Ed shouted, swivelling to point an accusing finger to the corner of the room where Ling and Lan Fan of all people were huddled over the table and had paused momentarily to look up, cheeks stuffed with room service food.

“Enjoying a delicious dinner?” he said plainly.

“Nope! Out!” Ed strode over, grabbing both of them by the collars of their shirts, dragging them towards the door, and shoving them into the hallway. “Shoo!”

“Edward! You can’t do that to a prince!” Winry scolded.
Becca chuckled. “Winry, you know I was just kidding when I called him ‘His Highness’, right?”

“Well, actually- actually he says he is,” Al said. “A prince, that is.”

“Are- are you serious?”

Nodding fervently, Al assured, “Mm-hmm.”

Her lips pursed, but one shared look with Ed broke her facade and they both snickered into their hands, shoulders shaking.

“Quit laughing,” Ed giggled as he tried to get a hold of himself. “We have to tell him-”

“Huh?”

“Oh, that’s rich-”

“What do you have to-”

“Can it, Bex-”

“Brother!” Al cut them off, silencing both of them with the rare appearance of his authoritative tone, “What have you two been doing? Where have you been?”

Ed bit his lip, cringing slightly. “Well, um- that’s actually sort of a long story. How about you go first?”

---

After affirming where Becca had left off with him, Al launched into a long-winded detailing of all that had happened since Becca had last been in Central. Havoc’s prognosis, the dynamic duo Hawkeye and Mustang arguing over the events of the week, Ling and his guards’ abilities to sense the presence of the homunculi, and, to top it off, the realization they’d come to that the Fuhrer had been the one to call medics for them at the laboratory, meaning he’d somehow known they needed it. Not to mention how Al had been left to dwell on the possibility of a rejection of his body to his soul and had come to the conclusion that the situation, while not imminent from all the evidence they’d seen with Barry the Chopper and the Slicer Brothers, might very well be inevitable.

For her part, Becca’s head was spinning, and Ed didn’t look much better. However, he had to nod slowly, give a small, “Okay,” and launch into his own update. Even though she’d already heard about his experiences in Ishval, Becca reached over, grasped Ed’s hand, and squeezed as he recounted it all for Al and Winry. However, she furrowed her brow and opened her mouth to protest when he finished without bringing up the Rockbells, only to have Ed scoot his foot over and firmly step on hers.

Becca yelped, then glared at him.

“Sorry,” he said, looking innocent.

Or at least, he would have looked innocent if not for the pleading shine in his eyes that Becca knew from the angle of his face only she could see. She bit her lip, narrowed her eyes, but ultimately kept her mouth shut.

We’re going to talk about this later, she thought, raising an eyebrow.

Ed gave a small, imperceptible nod before turning back to his brother and Winry on the opposite couch. “Al, remind me later to sketch out the transmutation I saw in Ishval and we can analyze it, but first, there is… one more thing.”

They leaned forward, eagerness clear on their faces.

“While we were in Resembool, we-- me, Becca, and Granny-- we dug up what we transmuted.”

“The result of the accident?” Winry questioned, still confused.

“Why-?” Al reeled back into the couch cushions.

“I needed to confirm something,” Ed said firmly. “And I did. Alphonse, that- that person we transmuted-- they weren’t Mom. We never transmuted her. We failed.”

Al’s body clicked and clacked as he began to shake. “I- Brother, you did that by yourself?”

Her heart shattered for him. All of a sudden, a hint of regret sparked under her skin-- it was hardly fair for Becca to have gotten involved before Al himself, of all people- for her to investigate all this, no matter what Ed had thought, without even consulting him-

Frozen in place, Ed blinked, then his eyes flicked over to Becca, who stared back incredulously and gestured across towards him. He started and reached over the coffee table, grasping Al’s gauntlet.

“Al, I- I’m sorry, I should have called and asked if you were okay with it, but-”

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Becca started. She had half a mind to stomp on Ed’s foot, but the only one near her was his metal one, so that wouldn’t do much. Still, she was about to give him a rather purposeful shove when Al interrupted.

“Stupid Brother!” he snapped, grabbing tight onto Ed’s hand and shaking it vigorously, jerking Ed back and forth by extension as he scrambled to try and free himself. “I should have been there with you! It’s not just your mistake! We both committed the taboo, it’s not fair for you to keep punishing yourself like this!”

“Al! Be careful!” Winry squeaked, grabbing him and trying to leverage her body weight to slow him down. Becca got a hold on Ed’s coat to ground him to their couch as best as she could, though when Al was truly determined, it was hard for anyone to battle his strength. Grunting as she fought to just keep her grip while Al tried to shake some sense into his brother (a worthless pastime most of the time, if Becca was honest), she was suddenly reminded of just how much he held back when they sparred, or even outright battled earnest enemies. Al could pack a serious punch if he wanted to.

“But Al, listen, I confirmed we can get your body back!” Ed blurted out.

He stopped dead, arm dropping to his side and dragging Ed forward a few feet along with it. Becca pictured him opening and closing his mouth a few times in shock before he quietly, dare she say, hopefully, asked “...Really?”

“I think so,” Ed said as he eased his hand out of Al’s limp grip so he could sit fully back down. “I just need you two to answer a few questions.”

Winry tilted her head. “Us… two?”

“Yep. Al, when we fought at the hospital, do you remember the stories of other times we’ve argued that you brought up?”

“Um… it was… candy… toys, the top bunk, and… marrying Winry, wasn’t it? But I don’t see what that has to do with my body.”

“I’m getting there. Winry, do you remember that last one? When we fought over who got to marry you?”

Becca forced herself to take a quiet, centering breath, unnoticed by the other three, and crush down the discontent that came with those words. Not the time nor the place, she scolded herself once again as Winry nodded slowly. “I think so.”

“At the hospital, Al said he won our fight about it, but you still shot him down.”

“Yup,” Winry affirmed.

“Did you happen to tell him why?”

Rolling her eyes, she admitted through gritted teeth, “Yes. I said-”

“-I just don’t like men who are shorter than me,” she and Al said together.

Ed cringed violently and Becca tried to bite back a laugh, though she wasn’t exactly successful. “You can’t judge someone on something they can’t help!” he whined, waving his hands around indignantly.

“Can we please get back to what this has to do with getting Al’s body back?” Winry said, deadpan.

“Basically, the fact that there are events that you two remember that Ed doesn’t proves that the soul in this armor really is Al, with full access to all of his memories from before the age of ten. Obviously, if Ed didn’t remember it happening, he couldn’t have told you about it,” Becca explained whilst Ed was still busy pouting. “Which brings us to what Ed and I came up with after we dug up what you guys created: if your mind doesn’t currently reside in your physical brain, then that means there must be a link between the two, wherever your body may be, thus, your soul.”

Ed, more collected, continued off of her, “And in order for that to be true, your physical body and mind have to also be out there somewhere. Your soul wouldn’t-- no, couldn’t exist anymore if your body didn’t.”

“Ah!” Al said, clicking his fingers. “Like Barry the Chopper! His body was just locked up the whole time, but it wasn’t dead!”

“When I tried my own human transmutation,” Becca added, then realized that Winry was still there, now looking a bit surprised. She smiled guiltily. “‘S a long story. But I tried to revive my Louisa and I used some of her hair, thinking more along the lines of DNA than anything else and she- she never moved. Ed says yours moved. It was alive for a few seconds there.”

“The question is how it was alive. We know it wasn’t Mom, because Mom died and we could never have brought her back. But you-” Ed forced himself to swallow. “You were taken. I remember saying that- knowing that after I first went to the Gate. You didn’t die, but you were taken, and I gave up my arm to pull you out. I wouldn’t have been able to do that with Mom because she didn’t exist anymore, but-”

“But the fact that you were proves that I do,” Al realized.

“Yes, exactly,” Ed said, leaning across the table. He stretched over it, resting his hand against the back of Al’s neck, and pressed their foreheads together. “Think, Al. When I went back to the Gate, I grabbed a hand, but it wasn’t Truth’s. What did you see when you went through the Gate?”

Posture hardening, Al’s shoulders hunched. His red eyes glowed brighter. If he could, he might have even scrunched up his face, furrowed his brow. “I saw… I saw me,” he said slowly as realization dawned. “It was me! My hand that I grabbed!”

Ed’s face broke out in a wild grin. “Right! You’re there! Your body is in the Gate!”

But Al wasn’t done. “And I- I think I remember- I could see you, briefly. During the transmutations. I bounced back and forth between here and there, but- but my body had already been taken.” He thought a bit harder, all of them waiting with baited breath as he weighed his options.

“So,” he pressed on, “do you think it’s possible that… our transmutation was alive because it was me for a few seconds?  That body could have just rejected my soul right away.”

“That’s not… out of the realm of possibility,” Ed admitted slowly, rubbing at his chin. “But it really would be a stroke of luck considering the fact that your soul didn’t stay there.”

“And if it was me, then-” Al said, “then that means we didn’t kill anyone else. We didn’t kill anyone else.”

“Yeah…” Ed said somberly. He took a breath, let it out, then bowed forward at the waist. “Alphonse,” he began. “I can’t ask you to forgive me. We transmuted someone totally different than who we wanted to and- and I dragged you into it and stuck you in that time bomb of a body, but still, I’m-”

A knock on the door cut him off and a voice Becca recognized as one of the front desk workers called out, “Mr. Elric? You have a phone call from a… Mrs. Curtis?”

His eyes widened and Becca knew they were both thinking the same thing: Izumi was furious when she’d last spoken with him. She wouldn’t just call to make sure they’d made it back to Central safely. Either something had gone very, very wrong and she was very, very out of shape or… she’d looked further into what Ed had posited. Becca wasn’t sure which she was hoping for.

Still, she tried for an encouraging smile and shooed him off. “Go on.”

Ed pulled a face.

Becca winced in sympathy, then suggested, “Maybe- maybe take Al with you.”

The boys, however reluctantly, shuffled out to the lobby phone. Back in the room, Winry sighed pensively and tucked her arms behind her head, leaning back onto the couch with a quiet, disbelieving, “Wow,” and Becca couldn’t hold back a chuckle.

“Yeah,” she said. “Sorry. That conversation would be too heavy for most alchemists, and you have to factor in all the bullshit information we’ve already memorized.”

“I- yeah, I’m a little confused. Do you mind if I- I guess- would it be too personal if-”

“Ask away,” Becca said gently. “It’s fine.” She cracked a self-deprecating smile. “No offense, but I doubt you could come up with something I’ve never been asked.”

“Obviously, but I don’t want to make you feel like you have to answer if it makes you uncomfortable!”

Becca opened her mouth, then closed it, then frowned. 

“I-” she started, then forewent whatever she was going to say. 

“No one has- no one’s ever-” she stuttered, then settled on, “Okay. I- I appreciate that. Thank you for considering that- I mean, me. My feelings. But I promise, any questions you have are fine. I’m not- I don’t mind talking about it.”

“Okay, so, you did the same thing as the Elrics, right? The transmutation?”

“Well, in essence. I attempted to resurrect someone-- my stepmother, Louisa-- from the dead, but we went about it in slightly different ways. The same goal, but different theories.” Becca shrugged, spreading her hands to gesture to the- well, everything about their lives. “Evidently, both failures.”

“And when you attempt to transmute people, you go to a… gate?” she pressed.

“The Gate,” Becca corrected. “That’s what the three of us have taken to calling it, because there’s not really much else there. It’s just a big expanse of white and then a set of doors. I think they’re a little different for everyone, both physically in appearance, but also in a more mental aspect. Like I couldn’t interact with Ed in my Gate and he can’t come into mine.”

Nodding slowly, Winry asked, “And the Gate and the Truth-- those are one in the same?”

“Um… yes and no. Sort of, we think.”
Upon seeing Winry’s face shift to slightly annoyed at that nonanswer, Becca tried to extend, “That’s the stickiness about alchemy, especially this subject in particular because- well, frankly, there’s not much research we’ve been able to find about it aside from our experiences. The thing about human transmutation is that very few people have committed the taboo and lived to tell the tale. But to answer your question, basically, Truth sort of… inhabits the Gate. And also is the Gate. From what I can gather, Truth would be like the gatekeeper to all alchemical knowledge, the overseer of the universe, and- and the enforcer of its rules, all tied up in one. Therefore, it’s the one who extracts payment when those rules are broken.”

“So it was the one who took Ed’s arm and leg, and Al’s body,” Winry pondered aloud, more to herself than Becca. “But if you went there as well, then how come you didn’t… lose anything? Like Ed and Al lost parts of themselves, but- well as far as I’ve seen, you seem to be all in one piece.”

Becca sighed. “That’s- um- that’s where the differing theories comes into play,” she admitted, rubbing the back of her neck. “When I attempted, I wasn’t alone. My father was the one who- who sort of pushed me into it. Not to try and dodge any guilt because I know it was my choice, but he- he put the idea in my head for a reason. He was a State Alchemist years ago, before and during the Ishvalan war, but he was… dismissed after the conflict was resolved. And he heard about this up-and-comer, the Fullmetal Alchemist who didn’t even need a transmutation circle and it got him thinking. You see, just because we don’t have tons of evidence about the Gate doesn’t mean small bits and pieces don’t exist. My father studied any lead he could to try and regain the power he’d lost and he must have come across some of those scraps of information we do have. The world of alchemical practitioners is small and gossip-prone, so rumors were already flying about Ed and Al, and I guess- I guess he’d come up with his own practical theory about it.

“The biggest difference between what I did and what the Elrics did is that both of them performed the transmutation and,” Becca said through a throat like sandpaper. Something, somewhere in her was dinging that this might be the first time she’d intentionally thought about what had led up to the act since she’d told the boys about it. Otherwise, she’d- she’d ignored it. Ignored what she’d done, what had happened to- “my father didn’t actually transmute anything. He told me we’d do it together, but… I was the only one who put my hands down. He jumped into the circle.”

“Oh, my God,” Winry whispered, horrified.

Becca nodded as she forced herself to swallow, fixing her gaze on her lap before continuing, “When I decoded some of his notes later, I found out that he had thought- he thought whoever had performed the transmutation would have to pay the price, but if he didn’t, he could- he could reap the benefits. He- he miscalculated and I-” She pressed a hand over her mouth, suppressing a choked out sob that had apparently decided to bubble up. “‘M sorry,” she mumbled. “I just- I don’t really talk- or really think about it- but-”

“Becca, you don’t have to-”

“No, no, you asked, I just- I’m sorry,” she said again, scrubbing at her eyes. “I was taken to the Gate and I saw… my father. But it wasn’t really him, it was Truth. And they said- they told me that I knew I’d failed. That I knew I was going to fail. Because nothing could equal her . It thought that I had intentionally sacrificed him, but I- I didn’t, I swear-”

“I know,” Winry soothed. She’d gotten up at some point, and, while Becca was still staring holes in her own pants, sat down on the couch next to her and wrapped her arms around her, squeezing tightly. Those two little words and that simple act, though, made Becca break down. Her shoulders began to shake as quiet sobs broke past her lips. The whole time, Winry was hushing her, soothing, “I know. I know you didn’t. It’s alright.”

After a few minutes, though, she pulled herself together. She wiped her eyes, then her nose, and, still a little wet-sounding but at least a bit steadier voice, went on, “When I woke up, he was gone and- and there was just another body. I don’t-” She paused, considering.

“I didn’t check who’s body it was,” she said slowly. “I didn’t bury it. I just… left it in the shed we’d experimented in and… ignored it.”

That was becoming a rather common occurrence, her morality chimed in, avoidance. At least she didn’t need a rant from Victor to figure this one out.

“Whoever the Elrics created, it wasn’t their mother, but- well, I’d have to go back and do some actual tests to figure it out, but I very well might have just created a replica of Louisa’s c- corpse. I don’t know for sure, but, like I said, I used her DNA, but nothing to call any kind of soul component like blood. It doesn’t particularly matter, but that was another difference between our theories.”

“But you said yours never moved?”

She nodded.

Winry let out a long breath. “Huh.”

Becca laughed wetly. “Yeah. It’s a lot.”

“That all sounds… awful,” she said, “and cruel.”

“The Truth hurts,” Becca replied earnestly. “But we learned from it. We learned that the circle of life truly is irreversible, at least if you want to retain humanity. And we learned to keep fighting. Ed and Al have a lot of work to do to get back to Truth for Al’s body, but I- I think they can do it.”

“And what about you?” Winry asked. “We’ve been talking a lot about the boys and Al’s body, but if you haven’t really… faced this yet, it had to have been hard having everything all dragged up again.”

Humming thoughtfully, Becca said, “I think… I think I still need to work through a lot. And acknowledge a lot. But honestly? A lot of that is probably more about situations that led up to the incident-- like, stuff with my parents outside of the transmutation. I’ve been told I like to fix other people’s problems instead of confronting my own. But I don’t- Truth was right, in a way. I would never be able to bring her back and I know that now. I probably knew that then.”

“Oh, Becca,” Winry said, hugging her tight again and burying her face in Becca’s shoulder. Becca laughed earnestly as she embraced her in return.

“Oh, God, what are you crying for?” came Ed’s voice from the doorway.

The two girls both levelled unimpressed looks at him as he grinned, plopping back onto his former spot on the couch (and into their laps).

“A productive conversation, I hope?” Becca prompted while she and Winry tried to shove him off.

“Yeah,” Ed said proudly. “More than one productive conversation, right, Al?”

“Right, Brother,” Al said, dragging Ed onto the floor by the collar of his jacket and amid his indignant squawking.

---

Ed filled them in on what Izumi had passed on, further confirming their theories, but then, all of them emotionally exhausting, they opted to take a short breather and allow Ed and Becca to unpack any meager belongings they’d managed to bring back with them, at least until Al suddenly asked, “What if I’m decomposing?”

The rest of the quartet stopped whatever they were doing and twisted to stare at him.

“...What?” Ed asked.

“I’m just saying!” Al said insistently. “Becca, you saw Barry’s body! It hasn’t slept, or- or absorbed any nutrients! And what if we get it back and I’m ten again? Or-”

“Whoa, okay, calm down,” Ed interrupted. “I’m sure your body is fine.” His eyes flicked up to the ceiling, wavering back and forth a few times, then amended, “Okay, maybe not fine, but I’m sure it’s not too bad.”

Joints creaking, Al turned to where Ed was sitting on the floor among some of the notes he’d started to take on what he’d seen in Ishval. “How do you know?”

“Well, Bex got me thinking about it in Resembool, actually.”

Becca tilted her head, raising an eyebrow.

“When we performed the transmutation and were separated from our bodies, we added our blood to the other components. Becca, you described it as a… life ingredient, of sorts, and that made me remember why we’d even really done it in the first place. We had thought that the blood was a kind of anchor between the body, soul, and mind,” Ed explained. “And I was thinking, maybe, when we put the blood in with the ingredients, it mixed and, because of that, our souls got all tangled up as well. I’ve been eating for you, sleeping for you, living for you, and that might be why I’m so-” His chest seized. “So-” His eyes screwed shut, and Becca slid closer to him, a little worried that some kind of attack might be happening from all the rushing and excitement lately.

“So… short,” he mumbled.

Becca sat back onto her haunches, blinking in awe. “You… actually said it.”

“He’s starting to face reality?” Al whispered to Winry.

“Are you sure you’re not just short because you don’t drink milk?” Winry asked sarcastically.

“Shut up! I’ve actually gotten taller lately-”

“Oh, please, I’d like to see some proof of that-!”

“Brother, does that mean we’ll both grow into adults?”
“Hell yeah it does,” Ed chirped, “and it means that when you do, I’m finally gonna get taller!”

“And you’ve got to eat good food, get enough sleep, and drink your milk for both of us,” Al listed, counting the items off on his fingers as his brother’s victorious grin fell into a scowl. “And now that I think about it,” he said cheekily, “a quick temper might be a sign of mineral deficiencies.”

Banging on Al’s chestplate to drown out his voice, Ed insisted, “I’m not gonna be a kid forever! And I am growing, just slowly!”

“Sure, Ed,” Winry said. She stood up, stretched her arms over her head, and shrugged on her jacket. “Unless there are any more Earth shattering revelations, I’m gonna go get some sleep so I can head back to Rush Valley.”

Becca gave Ed a pointed look, but he shook his head and mouthed Later , so, with a reluctant nod, she kept her mouth shut except to say, “We’ll catch up for dinner?”

“Definitely. I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t spend the whole time I’m gone talking about boring alchemy stuff. Go get some sunlight.”

---

Of course, they spent the whole time talking about alchemy.

“So we need to get back into the Gate to pull me out, but how are we supposed to do that without committing the taboo again?” Al pondered.

“And something was taken every time we got in,” Ed added. “So we might need some sort of sacrifice.”

Becca thumbed the fabric of her shirt as she thought. Ed had already given up for his brother so much but Becca- she was still whole. And in her transmutation, it’d been proven that one could use someone else as a sacrifice. Obviously, she didn’t want to give up everything like her father had been forced to, but maybe with more brains on the matter. Or, in the worst case scenario, would it really be so bad to bargain herself with the knowledge that Al would be returned? Perhaps-

“You will not be giving up anything,” Al said sternly. “Arms, legs, or otherwise. That means you too, Becca.”

“But-” Ed argued.

“ I didn’t even say anything!”

“You think I don’t know what you’re both thinking?” he said. His voice dropped brokenly and he insisted, “I always wanted to get my body back, but only if you get yours back too, Brother. I don’t want you or Becca to hurt yourselves for me.”

“Alphonse…” Becca said quietly.

“So- so just promise me we’ll restore both of our bodies without letting any of us get more hurt, okay?” he said. “Promise we’ll do it together.”

Ed blinked, then sighed in defeat. “Fine. I promise.”

Al nodded and turned expectantly to Becca, who turned pink and agreed under her breath, and he brightened at once.

“But if we don’t give anything up… and we don’t want to use human sacrifices or Philosopher’s Stones… then what’s the plan?” Becca asked.

“Well, we know a toll is required to open the Gate,” Al said, “and whatever is gained varies based on how much you give up. No matter what, we seem to become some sort of, like, vessel for Truth, and that’s why we can transmute without a circle. Some part of it replaces what we’ve lost. So we just need to figure out how to give it back. Not to mention, I’m really curious as to how the homunculi fit into all of this.”

Ed rubbed his temples. “Yeah… the way they talk about us… it sounds like they can’t do whatever their goal is themselves. They need human vessels as well to carry it out.”

Running a hand through her bangs (that desperately needed a trim, Good God), Becca posited, “And they have access to military property-- at least two government laboratories-- so is it possible the military has something to do with it?”

“If they’re involved, then there’s no way the Fuhrer doesn’t know, right? And that might be why he killed Greed,” Ed said thoughtfully. He groaned and flopped face first into a throw pillow. “Dammit, if I would have known how much I wanted all this information, I wouldn’t have rejected that deal he offered us!”

Alphonse winced. “Brother, it’s probably for the best that you did.”

“Fuhrer Bradley would have killed us,” Becca pointed out. “And who knows what Greed’s gang might have done with that knowledge.”

“I guess you’re right. I wonder...” He hummed as he resituated himself and leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “Do you think Fuhrer Bradley could be a homunculus?”

They all made eye contact across the table, tense silence stretching thinner and thinner until they burst into laughter.

“Yeah, right!”
“As if!”
“That’s impossible!”

Once they’d calmed down slightly, Ed decided, “Still, we should try and figure out how to talk to the homunculi. Maybe they’ll slip up and tell us something important.” He rifled through his pocket and drew out his pocket watch, unclipping it from his belt and dangling it in front of them. “I guess this thing comes in handy sometimes.”

---

After one of the hotel attendants made a quick run to a local library for a map of the Third Lab so they could figure out where exactly they’d gone to find that huge replica of the Gate, they spread it out on the table, weighed down by a few books, and traced back what Becca and Al could remember from the day of the most recent conflict.

“Huh,” Becca said after a few minutes.

“Yeah,” Al agreed.

Ed ran his finger over the path they’d managed to identify so far. “You’re sure it’s not there?”

“It is… not,” she mumbled. “That’s not encouraging.”
“But you’re sure this is where it should be?”

“We went in this entrance,” Al said definitively, bringing his own hand down to gesture at the paper. “And it was on this wall, but there’s nothing there.”

“A coverup of some kind,” Becca said to herself. “It has to be, right? Like, we know it was there.”

“They seem like the type to cover their tracks,” Ed added. “Or to not leave tracks in the first place.”

Al huffed, pushing the map aside in a rare display of attitude, and smarted, “Then how are we supposed to talk to the homunculi if we don’t even know where they are?”

“Well, we could-” she started, only to be interrupted by a loud banging on the door. An employee’s disgruntled voice chastising someone in the hall was drowned out by Denny Brosh insisting he needed to talk to them. Becca started upon recognizing him, then called, “Sergeant? Is that you?”
“Miss Harper, I’m sorry for the disturbance, he was very insistent and refused to check in-”

“No, no, it’s alright, thank you! Brosh, come on in. Is everything okay?” she asked as the door slammed open and the blonde man stumbled over the threshold.

“Thank goodness you’re here,” he panted, bending over to catch his breath. “Armstrong wanted to make sure you were aware right away-- Scar. Scar’s back.”

Chapter 34: caim

Notes:

helloooo, my dears!

i had the hardest freaking time with this chapter for like the first week and then last night i accidentally took 800 mg of ibuprofen and went into some sort of frenzy and... here's the result <3

in all seriousness, i ended up liking this a lot more than i thought i would, so i'm actually pretty happy with it. and even tho it's sort of late at night once again, it is still thursday here in the midwest, so i'm not late yet.

(also happy spooky season!!!)

caim (noun)- lit. “sanctuary”; an invisible circle of protection, drawn around the body with the hand, that reminds you that you are safe and protected, even in the darkest times

Chapter Text

“What?!” Ed said, grabbing the slip of paper clutched in Brosh’s hand and scanning the message. Becca and Al were up at once to peer over his shoulder.

BOLO: DANGEROUS , it read in the uppermost, middle portion of the page. Becca’s stomach flipped.

 

BOLO: DANGEROUS

Location: Train Depot, Central City

Time: 6 pm

Date: October 21, 1914

Description: Male, X-shaped scar on forehead, red eyes, brown skin, white hair. Approx. 180 cm and stocky. Tattoos covering right arm.

 

“‘Just before six p.m. on October 21st, 1914, a civilian reported an individual of the above description leaving a cargo car on foot before going west. The individual matches the description of the criminal known as ‘Scar’, wanted before his presumed death for the murders and attempted murders of up to thirteen State Alchemists, as well as escaping custody in East City’,” Becca read aloud. “‘Anyone who sees this man is encouraged to stay away and report their tip to the local military office at-’ Oh, good God.” She scoffed in disgust, turning her nose up at the bulletin. “I liked how they didn’t mention that Scar escaped from here first. Do the Central troops really think they’re any more equipped to handle him this time around?”

Ed, on the other hand, pushed the note back into Brosh’s hand pensievely, frowning. “Thanks for the info. We’ll hunker down here until we hear more.”

Well, that’s… tame, Becca thought. She suppressed the annoyance at the military’s boldness in order to study Ed more closely and then she remembered-- Scar. The Rockbells -- and a pit formed in her stomach.

“Al,” Ed said. “There is… one more thing.” 

---

“We need to tell Winry, right?” Becca urged after they’d told Al everything.

“No,” Ed said firmly. “She can’t know about this.”

“What do you mean?”

“She just can’t!”

“Be realistic, if it was your parents, you would be furious if someone kept it from you!”

“Winry’s just- she’s different!”

Rubbing her temples, Becca pushed further. “Why? What’s so different? They were her parents, she deserves-”

“I can’t make her cry again!” Ed snapped.

Becca frowned. “But still-”

“Bex, please, I’ll- I’ll do it later. But not… not now.”

She looked to Al for support, only finding him turned away to avoid her gaze, and heaved a long suffering sigh. Finally, though her teeth were grit, she nodded in agreement. “Fine. Tell her when you want.”

Ed’s face relaxed and he opened his mouth before Becca raised a hand to stop him. “But- and I mean this in  the nicest way possible- I think you guys need to accept that you’re not the only ones who have grown up since you left Resembool. Winry’s not a little girl you need to protect anymore, and she’s tougher than you’re giving her credit for.”

His expression hardened, a stony facade Becca recognized from many, many appointments in Colonel Mustang’s office, and he crossed his arms, glaring down at the floor.

“And- and besides,” Al said feebly. “It’s not one hundred percent certain it was Scar, right? It could have been someone else.”

“Somehow I doubt that,” Ed said. “But I suppose we should confirm it straight from the source and… we could go ahead and take down two birds with one stone if you’re up for it.”

Becca raised an eyebrow. “How so?”

“Well, the homunculi have said they need us alive, right? So say we were involved in a massive, life threatening fight-”

“-Then they’ll appear,” Al finished. He hesitated, then added, “Maybe.”

Fingers reaching up to rub the quicksilver symbol charm on her neck, Becca mumbled, “I don’t know about that, Ed. It seems really risky and, you know, Scar sort of… kicked our asses the last time we saw him. He quite literally tore you two apart.”

“Well… we’re a lot stronger now than we were then.”

“Are we?”

Alphonse fiddled with his own hands, red eyes glowing a little dimmer in the shadows formed by his back against the setting sun outside the window. “And even if a homunculus does show up to ‘save us’,” he said with finger quotes, “how do we even catch them? They seem so strong, and they basically can’t die, and we couldn’t hope to catch them, or keep them captive, or find a way to interrogate them, or anything really.”

“Maybe not by yourselves!”

“Gah!”

The force of their surprised jumps nearly knocked them off of their seats, and Ed sat back up and snapped, “What the hell are you doing here?!”

Ling, perched on the windowsill with the tips of Lan Fan’s gloves and mask peeking over the ledge behind him, grinned his megawatt grin at them. They clambered inside, landing on Ed’s bed, much to his chagrin. “I’ve been trying to get back in since you kicked us out!” he explained like it was the simplest thing in the world. Becca made a note to suggest the hotel consider upping their security measures, and even more so to start locking the damn windows, but the more interactions she had with the Xingese, the less she was convinced any normal mortals could do much against them. She stifled a smile-- if they were entertaining the possibility of Fuhrer Bradley being a homunculus, they’d need to examine the foreigners as well.

“But it sounds like you need our help with this battle,” Ling continued, oblivious to Becca’s bitten lip and suppressed giggles.

Ed narrowed his eyes, the scowl that always seemed to appear with Ling’s presence (or, if Becca was honest, even only his name). “What are you scheming about now?”

“No schemes! I’m just eager to help my friends!” He shot Becca a wink, to which she responded with a roll of her eyes. Then his grin turned a little darker. “Fine. Truthfully, you guys aren’t the only ones interested in these homunculi-- I want to figure out how exactly they’re basically indestructible. If they can’t die, then they must be-”

“Immortality again, huh?” Becca said in a low voice.

“Always,” Ling agreed cheekily. 

“Full disclosure,” she continued on, “but they’re not totally immortal. They can die, it just… takes a little longer.”

“Still sounds pretty close to me!” If he saw their doubt, it didn’t discourage him, since he kept on, insisting, “Come on, think about it. All we need to do is be in the area and we’ll be able to sense them, and you’ve seen us fight. You admit you can’t fight them alone and they even gave Lan Fan and I trouble before when we fought them, but lure them out and set us on them alongside you. Imagine what we could do with our forces combined!”

“Don’t get me wrong, I am grateful for everything you’ve done already,” Ed said. “But this is a whole different ball game-”

“You think I don’t know that?” Ling countered, suddenly much less chipper than he had been. “You’re not the only ones who have something to lose in this game. My clan’s lives are at stake. I’m being serious here.” He stuck his hand out, as much of an olive branch they’d probably ever get from the prince, and Ed slowly reached out and took it. “Cooperation, huh? You won’t take the prize and run? You swear on that?”

“Swear on my throne,” Ling said. “You can consider it repayment for the meals you’ve bought for me.”

“Oh, is that what this is?” Al asked, holding up a receipt he’d picked up from the table.

Becca recalled the huge platters left empty by Ling when she and Ed had arrived and winced. Hell, she could even feel her bank account, already usually teetering on the edge of a cliff, take a dangerous swoop towards the chasm of financial ruin in sympathy, so when Al passed it over to her, she didn’t even look at it before handing it over to Ed, whose eyes widened. It would be comical if it wasn’t so concerning, both for Ling’s health and for their finances, Becca decided.

“This is not one meal!” Ed screeched, crushing the thin paper in his metal hand.

Alphonse and Becca hardly flinched. Ling covered his ears, but stayed smiling benignly. Lan Fan crossed her arms across her chest, otherwise unphased.

“Hey, you brats!” Winry shouted just before she slammed their door open. “I know you’re all allowed to work on your own hours, but some of us have a schedule to think about!”

“Oh, sorry, Winry,” Becca, Ed, and Al all mumbled, properly cowed and shamefaced.

Pressing her fingers into the center of her forehead, Winry sighed and let them off with, “Just keep it down, okay? I have to get up really early to make my train if I want to get back to Rush Valley in good time.”

“So you’re leaving then?” Ed asked. 

Winry nodded. “I was on the phone with Mr. Garfiel earlier, and he really needs me back.” She chuckled, rubbing the back of her neck. “I was starting to take on my own clients right before I left and- well, they were very insistent I start making my way back.”

“Winry! That’s great, I knew you were doing well, but you must be advancing fast,” Becca praised. 

The other girl blushed and waved off the compliments, at least until Ed, who had gone stock still while the girls talked, forced a laugh and said, “Yeah, that- that sounds pretty great, but… say, do they really need you back urgently?”

Winry paused, blinking innocently, though Becca was close enough to see the itch to reach for a wrench she was sure was stowed in a pocket of her pajamas reflecting in her eyes. “Oh? Yes, they do, unless there’s something bigger I’m needed here for. There wouldn’t happen to be anything like that, would there?”

“Ah- no- well, you see- maybe it wouldn’t hurt,” Ed said weakly, “to stick around. You know, just in case my automail gets broken. Or… destroyed…”

Winry did reach into her pocket then and drew out the wrench Becca knew she had in there, whacking Ed with it without preamble. “Are you planning on destroying it?”

“No, ma’am…” Ed croaked from the floor.

“I’m leaving tomorrow,” Winry said with finality. “I’m going to get up early and have lunch with the Hughes’, then go visit Mr. Hughes’ grave, then be on the first train out.”

Oh, Becca thought. That’d be nice.

---

“Bex?” Ed mumbled as they laid in bed that night.

She’d been trying to sleep, of course, but with the events of the day still running laps in her mind with the plan they’d organized for tomorrow quickly following in their tracks, it was hardly an easy task. As was common while one tried to doze, she’d become hyper aware of every little sensation-- every creak of the building, every shift in the light above her bed as the clouds drifted in front of the moon, every rush of wind outside the window-- but she still jumped when Ed spoke.

“Hm?”

“‘M sorry about earlier. ‘Bout Winry.”

Becca sighed, rolling over onto her side to face him. “I understand where you’re coming from. Just because I don’t agree doesn’t mean I don’t get it.”

“Still,” Ed hummed as he stretched, back arched against the window, joints popping, until he relaxed with a satisfied huff. “I’m sorry we argued. Winry’s your friend too, you just want to look out for her.” He curled into himself a bit. “And I think you were right. You’ve only known Winry like this, but- but after we got the news that her parents died, she was inconsolable and it was awful. Sometimes I can’t help but remember her like that and I just… I can’t put her through that again without being totally sure it was him.”

“I know, Ed. ‘M not gonna say anything.”

“I didn’t think you would,” Ed clarified. “I trust you when you give your word on something. You still deserve a better explanation than I was able to give you.”

“Then I’m sorry too,” Becca said quietly. “Not for objecting, or giving my opinion. But I’m sorry for getting snippy. I know you don’t do things recklessly, or without thinking about them. And I get what you’re saying, I do, and I guess I don’t even have anything I could compare this to. I can say I’d do this or that all I want, but I don’t know for sure, so I can hardly judge you for your reaction.”

“So we’re good?”

“Yeah,” Becca said. She flopped onto her stomach, hugging her pillow to her chest. “We’re good.”

“That’s good.” Face down in her mattress, she couldn’t see him, but she heard Ed readjusting as well and figured he must be facing the window, since he sounded a little further away when he said, “G’night, Bex.”

“Night, Ed.”

---

They spent the next morning causing a ruckus.

In a new way, though.

Becca trailed slightly behind Ed, making adjustments to his work that some of the citizens weren’t as partial to. A reconstruction of a shovel handle here, a removal of an unasked for horn on the end of a stroller there, and all of Central was abuzz with the knowledge that the Fullmetal  and Illusion Alchemists were out and about; that was exactly what they’d been banking on.

“Well, I think we’ve successfully become some of the most popular people in town,” Ed said proudly, getting up on his tiptoes to read the menu posted on the outer window of a cafe. He considered the options, no doubt actually considering what he was eating for once since it now affected Al. That suspicion was confirmed when he gestured Al forward and asked, “What do you think about this?”

“Brother, you’re the one eating it.”

“But still, it’s your body too-”

The boys bickered back and forth while Becca scanned both the menu and the inside of the restaurant. Her eyes fell on the back of a familiar shaggy blonde head and she blanched, squinting and leaning closer to the glass to try and get a better look through the crowd of patrons.

“Anything look good to you, Becca?” Al asked, interrupting the speeding up of her heartbeat.

“Um- well- I actually think we should maybe… go somewhere else?” she squeaked, unable to take her eyes off of Will.

Ed followed her eyes, frowning tightly when he spotted the military-issued blue coat. “Is that-?’

“Mm-hmm.”

“Yep, okay, let’s go then.” He grabbed her by the hand and started pulling, which Becca allowed by letting her feet carry her without looking away in case he turned- in case he saw-

Her stomach dropped when he did. Gray eyes met blue and the blue widened. Becca’s breath caught as Will started, then glanced around and began pushing through the other customers towards the door.

“Uh oh,” Al said, moving to shield both Becca and Ed from his view.

All three of them jerked when a car beeped at their trio as they crossed the street. However, Becca, at least, let out a breath once a familiar glove, embossed with a now unnecessary transmutation circle, hung out the window and gestured them closer. With a furtive glance over her shoulder, Becca drew closer to the vehicle and tapped on the glass. Al would use his vantage point to keep an eye out for any approaching danger, keeping his body between them and the direction Will had been coming from.

“You three need to quit messing around,” Colonel Mustang said pointedly.

“And somehow, I feel like you need to still be in the hospital,” Ed shot back, leaning closer. “I heard about everything, no thanks to you. How’s Havoc?”

“I’ll be sure my handwritten apology gets to your hotel ASAP. For now, get in the car. We don’t want to be overheard.”

That didn’t last very long, but at least Hawkeye managed to drive them a good enough distance away from the cafe before Mustang gave up on the possibility of total privacy in favor of not being crammed against the door by Al’s large form whilst Becca and Ed shared the front seat nearly on top of each other.

“You know what? Let’s get out.”

---

Becca scrubbed at her eyes after hearing about Havoc. It wasn’t fair . Havoc was a good man who’d always looked out for her and the boys. He didn’t ask to get dragged into this whole mess and now he was paying the price for them. But, Mustang said, he’d insisted the rest of them keep moving. Said he’d catch up. Said Mustang expected him to catch up, and Havoc had never let him down before, so they had to trust him and obey his wishes.

“And Breda just called back and said he only found an empty house,” Mustang finished, “meaning Dr. Marcoh and his Philosopher’s Stone are effectively missing. We’re working under the assumption that they got to him first.”

“Marcoh worked with the Stones in Ishval,” Ed said with a disappointed growl from low in his throat. “But why are the homunculi after Philosopher’s Stones in the first place?”

“There has to be some sort of connection between it all; Ishval, the Philosopher’s Stone, the homunculi, the military… we’re just missing one crucial piece. We have to be,” Becca said.

“Speaking of Ishval, I know the Sergeant informed you three that Scar was in town. Not that I don’t think you should be doing good and fixing things rather than breaking them,” Mustang steered the conversation into a new direction. “But is all the showboating really a good idea right now?”

Ed shrugged. “I’m ready for a rematch.”

“Edward,” Becca said exasperatedly, crossing her arms over her chest in discomfort. The back of her neck had started to prickle, but the quick look she’d taken as they’d stepped into the shadows yielded nothing, and it wasn’t like she could just start inspecting the alley behind her during the conversation.

The colonel scoffed. “A rematch, really? Are you actually trying to get yourselves killed, then? You remember how he kicked your ass in East City?”

“Ooh, is Colonel Mustang scared of big, bad Scar?” Ed taunted, trying to get Mustang to leave them alone. 

“Watch your tone, Fullmetal,” Mustang said through gritted teeth.

“Um… Brother?” Al said uneasily. “Colonel Mustang?”

“Not surprising with how useless you were in East City-”

“Brother?”

“It was raining that day!”

“It wasn’t when you got beat up a few days ago, was it? Nope, you’re still-”

“Brother!” Al cried out, right as Hawkeye cocked her gun and fired right over Becca’s shoulder-- the bullet close enough that the wind rustled her hair.

She whirled around, touching her hands together as she did. Alchemical energy crackled from around her as Mustang, Ed, and Al all readied attacks as well against the dark skinned, hooded man stalking down the alleyway towards them.

“Well, here’s your man,” Mustang said under his breath. “Right where you wanted him. Still want to take him?”

“You sound nervous, sir. Do you want to get out of here while you can?” Becca retorted.

Hawkeye, characteristically, hardly waited for Becca to totter out of the way before shooting again before any of them could move to impede her.

“Stop!” Ed shouted. “Don’t shoot him!”

“What?!”

Ignoring her surprise, Ed jumped between them and towards Scar, clapping one hand to the wall. A large hand exploded from the brick, which the Ishvalan dodged, but it gave them an opening at the very least. Becca herself moved aside, leaving room for Al to burst forward with his brother, while she blocked Mustang and Hawkeye from getting involved as the others started crashing deeper into the backstreet.

“What the hell are you idiots thinking?!” Mustang barked, struggling against Becca’s firmly planted feet, which he looked a bit surprised to even have to worry about. Becca supposed he’d never really had to fight against her at her most stubborn. Maybe Ed was rubbing off on her.

“The homunculi need us alive,” Becca explained under her breath. “There’s no way they’ll just sit idly by and let him kill us, but that’s not to say they’d save anyone else either. It’s unfortunate, but using ourselves as bait is the best way to make sure no one else gets hurt.”

“You three are being ridiculous, let us-!” Hawkeye protested, only to be silenced by Mustang raising a hand.

The man’s dark eyes glinted with something resembling… fear? Regret? Either way, he still pushed Hawkeye’s gun down and waved her away. “Fine. What do you need us to do?”

Becca blinked, then smiled. “Just keep the other soldiers out of our way. Make sure no one saves us before they can.”

“Will do. When you catch one, leave some for me, yes?”

Nodding, she saluted and took the first few backward steps towards the sounds of the fight. “Thanks, sir!”

“Becca!”

And then she froze. She was the only one though, since both Mustang and Hawkeye took to their new jobs like ducks to water and turned on Will in a heartbeat.

“Harper, go,” Mustang ordered. “We’ve got this.”

She stumbled back. “Yes- yessir.”

Will lurched forward, reaching out with a shouted, “Wait, Rebecca-!”, only to be swiftly intercepted by Mustang crashing into him, wrenching his arms behind him. He growled, thrashing about, but wasn’t able to break free from the older man’s hold. “You don’t-”

Becca blocked him out. She blocked him out, honing in on the crackling she could pick up on in the next street over. Once they were within eyesight, she picked up the pace and sprinted to help.

The conflict was already in full force, stone flying, Ed and Al hopping around Scar like spirits while the man himself was stuck in the center, shooting up wave after wave of ground, but never quite able to get his balance enough to reach out for either Elric. Of course, Mustang couldn’t order a ceasefire right away, especially not whilst keeping with Becca’s errant older brother under control. They had to buy time for him to give the orders or otherwise mess with the masses. So when two MPs rounded on them, guns drawn, and shouted for them to get out of the way, Al split off from the fight right as Becca hurdled in.

“Don’t shoot! You might hurt my brother or Becca!” he said, voice even higher than usual for effect.

“Get them out of the way then!” one demanded.

Narrowly flipping out of the way of Scar’s transmutation once, twice, three times, Ed threw himself into frontal combat. Becca took the cue and went for the back, latching her arms around his neck and pulling. Scar’s head jerked back and collided with Becca’s, sending her reeling.

“Bex!” Ed called.

“‘M fine!” she replied, clutching the bridge of her nose.

Scar, however, sensed the weak moment and turned on her instead, energy crackling around his arm as he lunged toward her. She flinched, going to roll out of the way, until suddenly Ed was in front of her, metal arm outstretched before she could stop him.

On instinct from the last time Scar touched that arm, Becca grabbed at his other arm, a scream of panic building in her throat, but there was no clattering of metal, no cry of pain. Just a sharp crack as two transmutations collided and a faint ripping sound as the sleeves of both combatants were destroyed.

“You okay?” he panted as Scar backed off, clutching his now uncovered arm.

“Are you ?” Becca asked frantically. “Cancelling out his alchemy like that’s too reckless, Ed, don’t do that again or you’ll give me a heart attack!”

“I’m fine,” he confirmed. “I guessed he was going for the automail instead of my body… I got lucky-”

“Do you think that’s helping?” 

“-But that’s not important. Look.”

Sure enough, as Scar straightened back up and prepared to fight once more, he revealed his arm. His heavily tattooed right arm. Becca’s heart sank. Something in her had still so desperately wanted to be wrong.

“So it was him, for sure then,” Ed said, hauling Becca back to her feet. He raised his voice and opened his arms, inviting the Ishvalan closer as Becca clenched her jaw, lowered herself defensively, and prepared to fight. “Alright, Scar! Let’s dance!”

He clapped, creating a veritable maze for Scar to deal with as Becca blinked away the last of the pain from her rapidly bruising face. Then she grabbed his hand and they ran, forcing Scar to give chase.

“What are you doing?” Ed shouted.

“Minimizing any collateral damage!” she shot back, then swore. “A dead end!”

“Bex-”

“Here!” Using the momentum from their short sprint, Becca threw Ed ahead of her, then quickly touched her hands together and transmuted a platform, boosting him up onto a second floor balcony-- at the cost of shaking the building’s foundation. A woman inside screamed. 

“Sorry!” Becca called, then, “Keep climbing! I’ll follow!”

One more transmutation to make sure the building, which seemed to be apartments, wouldn’t collapse on the people inside, Becca created a similar pillar for herself just a few seconds too late. Scar swiped at the stone and it imploded, sending her clawing at the brick and only managing to pull herself up when Ed grabbed her forearms and yanked. Both of them tumbled onto the roof, where the flat part in the center of the peak was barely big enough for them to stand, but didn’t even have time to catch their breaths before Scar vaulted up with them. One look towards Ed to see his labored breaths and a hand pressed against her own racing heart confirmed it: they couldn’t keep this up for much longer. They needed to buy time.

“Scar! How can you say you hate alchemists,” Becca called, breathing heavily through every syllable, “for going against God when you yourself practice it? Doesn’t that make you a hypocrite by your own standards?”

“When there are creators, there must be destroyers,” Scar said, stone faced. “It’s that simple.”

Becca forced herself to inhale deeply before responding, “I don’t love the nonanswer. You don’t gain anything from all this destruction! All you do is use ‘God’ as an excuse to kill people you think have wronged you! You call yourself an agent of God, but all you ever exact is revenge! All those alchemists from before, Shou Tucker, his daughter, Nina? She did nothing, she was innocent, and you-”
“The girl,” Scar said, his monotonous baritone inflection shifting, if only a little, with emotion, “was an act of mercy.”

“Mercy?” Ed said harshly. “You killed her! You stole any life she had left to live!”

“Yes, mercy,” Scar snapped. “‘The art’ of alchemy, the so called ‘creators’ destroyed that child’s life. They made her into that chimera, didn’t they? Is that really the science you want to devote your life to? If I hadn’t done what I did, do you think that child would have been saved?”

Becca paused, her stomach churning. “We thought-”

“No! She would have been locked in laboratory for the rest of her life, tormented and experimented on for the sake of scientific curiosity! That chimera was only created because a foolish man wanted to delve into God’s realm, the realm of creation, and I made sure he faced the consequences for his actions!” Scar barked.

We didn’t think about the aftermath, Becca thought numbly. There- there wasn’t any time. She was there and then she was gone, but he’s- he’s right. Who’s to say anyone would have even bothered to try to get her back to normal? We should have known, we should have considered- we should have done something but we did-

Nothing.

“Fine, so you can justify that in your own mind,” Ed shouted in fury. “Alchemists have made mistakes and-  and horrible choices, but that doesn’t make what you do right either! Especially when you make horrible choices too, both today and in the past! And it doesn’t mean we’re gonna let you continue!”

Scar scowled, creeping closer. Becca, her back to Ed, stepped away, farther from whence they’d come. One misstep to the side almost made her slip and she had to look away from the Ishvalan to catch her balance. That was the only reason she saw Al and Winry round the corner and freeze, staring up at them, eyes full of horror at the precarious positioning.

“You act self-righteous, but do you remember a pair of doctors in Ishval?” Ed challenged.

Becca’s eyes widened. “Ed, don’t,” she said, glancing back at the two on the ground as if she could telepathically tell Al to get Winry out of here.

Grunting in recognition, Scar straightened up slightly, but didn’t confirm or deny the affiliation.

“Even after the orders came to exterminate all the Ishvalans, they kept saving your people at great risk to themselves,” Ed continued heedlessly. “They kept helping!”

“Edward, not now!” Becca said roughly. Al had heard at this point and she could see him out of the corner of her eye, trying to shepherd Winry away. Becca didn’t stop him, didn’t want to stop him, because she’d wanted Winry to know, but not like this-

She’d already heard her parents’ names, though, and her chin tilted up, eyes straining against the sun to watch them with all her focus. It’d be impossible for Al to move her.

“Don’t you remember them? How they saved you?” Ed shouted. 

“Stop it, Ed!”

“And how you repaid them by killing them?”

“Ed!” Becca said urgently, pointing at the pair in the street below where Winry’s mouth had dropped open and Al had stopped dead with a metal gauntlet around her arm. She said something they couldn’t hear from their place on the roof, but Al stepped closer, trying to reassure her.

Still, Winry stepped forward, shaking so badly even Becca could see it and, in the unearthly silence that followed the revelation, brokenly asked,  “It was you? You killed my parents?”

The Ishvalan was silent.

“Why aren’t you denying it?” Winry asked, stepping backwards. “Say something!”

Nothing.

Something in Becca’s chest tightened up as a weak sob slipped past Winry’s lips and she sank to her knees in the street next to an unconscious soldier, knocked on the head by one of the many projectiles that had been flying around as he’d chased Winry and Al.

“Winry…” she whispered.

“What did they do to you? They saved you, so why would you- why did you kill them?” Winry said, tears starting to roll down her cheeks. Her head fell, shoulders heaving and crying out, “How could you take them from me?! You took my mom and dad! Give them back to me!”

The girl took a heavy breath, her whole body trembling. It seemed like she was the only one, like the entire rest of the world was holding its breath. No one moved. Becca didn’t even dare to blink. However, they could all see it when Winry’s shaking hand reached out in front of her where a soldier had dropped his gun.

“Wait, Winry!” Ed shouted, shocking them all out of their stupor. “Don’t do that!”

“So you, girl, you’re the doctor’s daughter?” Scar was off the roof in an instant, sliding down the side and dropping into a crouch, seemingly unphased as Winry raised the gun against Ed and Al’s protests. “You have the right to kill me. It would be justified, even, considering what I’ve done.”

“Don’t, Winry,” Al urged. 

“But know that once that bullet is fired,” Scar said, “you can’t take it back.”

Winry let out another wet, heaving sob and her hand flexed around the trigger; a dangerous game. Becca called down, “Just put the gun down! We won’t let anything happen to you, but trust me, if you fire, you’ll regret-”

“So shoot me, but know,” Scar plowed on, “the moment you pull that trigger, we will be enemies.”

“You leave her out of this!” Al said in an uncharacteristic moment of outrage.

“Don’t get a step closer to her!” Ed ordered. “Winry, put it down! Please!”

Becca stared hatefully down at him and threatened, “If you touch her-”

“What? You’ll kill me?” Scar shot back, laughing derisively. “Good! This conflict- this hatred between our peoples will never be over until one side is destroyed! But it wasn’t mine that fired the first shot, it was yours! Remember that!”

Ed glared down at him, lowering himself ever so slowly and beginning to slide down the tiles. “Winry, toss that gun away and run. Get out of here.”

“I agree,” Scar said as he stared poor Winry down. “If you’re not going to partake, then leave the battle. You’re in my way.”

“No!” the three other teens screamed in unison.

He struck the ground, shaking the street beneath them. Winry shrieked and there was a loud crack as the gun went off, but Ed was already in the air, jumping from the roof, grabbing Scar by the shoulders and flying over him, landing right in front of Winry, throwing himself in between the girl and the Ishvalan. The gun pointed down at the ground, smoke still rising from both the barrel and the spot a few meters away where the bullet had lodged in the thick stone wall.

“I- I didn’t mean to- I didn’t-” Winry stuttered.

“You didn’t hit anyone,” Ed reassured at once, muscles tight. “It’s alright. Put the gun away. You’re alright.”

An ugly, uncomfortable wave of jealousy curled in Becca’s stomach at the sight of him sprawling across her, rapidly followed by disgust. 

So she shoved it down, took a running start, and flew weightlessly through the air before landing on Scar’s back and leaning back, tipping them both backwards and propelling them towards the ground. Scar rolled over her, not kept down for long, but at least further away from Ed and Winry. Al attacked as well from the side, tackling Scar and clanging to the ground.

“We’ve got him,” Becca panted. “You take Winry, okay?”

“Right,” Ed affirmed, somehow sounding similarly breathless. A quick glance over her shoulder only revealed wide golden eyes staring up at her as she pushed her bangs out of her face.

“Take care of her,” she said, smiling sadly.

“I will. And then I’ll find you.”

Chapter 35: nebulochaotic

Notes:

helloooo, happy friday, my dears!

so so sorry this is a lil late. college is busy (and i'm in the pledge process for a sorority which is an experience that takes up a very large portion of time that will soon be coming to a close so it'll free up my time slightly) but i'm powering through. not too much business. the only thing to maybe look forward to is that i've been considering a sort of halloween special, so lmk if y'all are interested in that bc it may or may not end up replacing the next update for time purposes.

ugh i realized i sound very down rn for no reason, i promise i'm having a good time lol

enjoy the chapter!

nebulochaotic (adjective)- a state of being hazy and confused

Chapter Text

“I told you,” Scar growled as she and Al led him further towards the outskirts of town, “You are not the one I’m here to judge, so stay out of my way before I have to break you apart!”

“Why not?” Al challenged. “I’m an alchemist too, just like my brother and Becca! You either have to admit that you’re a hypocrite and only care about revenge or kill me too!”

Becca kicked a stray stack of wooden crates, knocking Scar off his feet, though really only serving to infuriate him more. “Maybe don’t taunt the guy already willing to murder at least one of us,” she huffed, then rounded a corner and barrelled into the significantly less crowded train depot. However, “significantly less” doesn’t mean “no”, and there were still employees milling around, who screamed as they saw Scar, who Becca had to protect . “Alphonse!” She pointed upwards, towards a water tower. “Up there!”

“Right!”

“Hey!” she shouted down to the workers, most standing stock still in fear, as both she and the suit of armor started scaling the ladder. “Get out of here!”

“Imprudent boy,” Scar snarled once he reached the top of the tower. Becca and Al had spread out from the singular ladder onto either side of the large tank, energy crackling between their hands, ready to fight. “You lost your body! Your armor is empty! Isn’t that because of alchemy?”

“It was an alchemical accident, if that’s what you’re asking,” Al said frankly.

Scar snarled, baring his teeth. “How can you still keep putting your faith in the art that put you in that miserable excuse for existence?”

“Yes, it was alchemy that caused this to happen,” Al said with a gesture down his metal chestplate. “And it’s true that my body isn’t ideal. But I don’t want your pity. My existence like this isn’t miserable.” He knocked on his chest, the sound ringing through the clear air around them. “It was also alchemy- my big brother’s alchemy- that saved me! That put me in this body so I could continue to live, and fight! To reject alchemy would mean rejecting my brother’s sacrifice and I refuse to do that, not after all the work we’ve gone through since the accident!”

“Alchemy isn’t inherently good or bad. It’s only a tool,” Becca added. “One that can be used for both good and evil, depending on whose hands it’s in. You’ve had bad experiences with it, we understand. You have a right to be wary of it. But then you turn around and expose your own duplicity-”

Blue lightning cracked up and down Scar’s arm and he roared. Becca snapped into action, counteracting his transmutation destroying the platform they stood on with one of her own. A large hole bloomed in the side of the water tank, then extended out into a pipe, allowing a flood of water out that pushed the Ishvalan back down the ladder, and she and Al both jumped down after him into the cleared train yard.

“Alchemy tore my family apart!” she pushed on as she got her feet under her. “It dragged me into this whole mess! There are times I wish I’d never even heard of the thing! But it brought me to my friends and- and it gave me an escape route! Dammit, I may be damned for it, but I needed everything it gave me!”

“I want to believe in the potential alchemy has to make the world better!” Al said. “I choose to believe that people can do good with it! That they can create, not just destroy!”

“Do you now?” Scar growled from the ground then reached down into the now dirtied water forming puddles in the dust.

Becca had time to remember the Freezer in the back alleys of this very city and think Oh, not again before steam billowed up around them, mostly obscuring their vision and fully throwing off their perceptions.

A tattooed arm launched out of the white fog, fingers extended towards Al’s helmet. Becca screamed his name, but it wasn’t just her who screamed. The blur of Ed’s red coat was only just preceded by both the pounding of his footsteps and his shriek of rage as his boot slammed into the mass of Scar’s torso.

“Brother!”

“Ed!”

“How’s Winry?” Al asked anxiously whilst Scar wheezed and tried to catch his breath.

“She’ll be okay. I left her with the MPs,” Ed said, scowling. “It’s pathetic. I made her cry. Again.”

Becca rolled her eyes. “You know she cries because she worries. How else was she supposed to react to seeing you two- hell, any of us like that? It’s not like it’s a regular thing for her.”

“I know, but still, I told her we’d be back soon,” Ed said as he took up a fighting position, “so let’s end this!”

“I found you!” a new voice crowed from above them,  only seconds prior to a huge mass crashing down onto the pavement and dissipating all of the remaining steam. A fat, bald man stood up to his full, admittedly small, height, grinning brightly and licking his lips, revealing a thick tongue embossed with an ouroboros marking on the surface. “I found the Ishvalan,” he cooed proudly.

“A homunculus!” Al realized aloud as he leapt forward.

However, Scar didn’t exactly need the clarification, since it didn’t really matter the way he did things. He caught the homunculus’ arm, twisted, and jammed his hand into his back, making blood explode from his mouth.

When the homunculus laughed, though, Becca thought maybe some clarification would have been nice, since Scar was then subsequently grabbed right back and practically thrown into a nearby wooden fence by the homunculus.

“Dammit! Ling was supposed to catch this thing already!” Ed shouted. He groaned in annoyance, slapped his hand onto his forehead, then beckoned Becca and Al forward. “We always get stuck picking up other people’s slack, don’t we? Come on!”

Becca and Ed each went in from the side, immobilizing his arms as Al reached around his distended belly and hoisted the thrashing homunculus just barely off the ground. The fat man continued to flail, screeching unhappily and yanking the teenagers clinging to his thick arms back and forth along with him.

“Where- is- that- damn- prince?!” Ed howled. Becca, for her part, was too busy trying to dig her dangling heels into either the ground or the main mass of the homunculus to stop the movement that made her swear that her brain was bouncing around inside her skull to protest.

The question wouldn’t remain unanswered for long, though, when the manhole cover they were standing behind blew open with the force of a small bomb (and, of course, the proper amount of accompanying smoke swelled along with it) and out erupted a lanky, dark haired figure with a sword clasped between his teeth.

“Ling?!” Becca called out, squinting against the sun.

“Get out of the way!” he barked.

At once, the other three obeyed, then froze, blinking confusedly at each other.

“Did we just-?”

“Okay, maybe I believe he might have some power over in Xing,” Becca said quietly as they watched the prince gracefully twist midair, pull the pin of another bomb, and shove it as deep as he could into the homunculus’ throat before backflipping out of the way of the ensuing blast.

The blast that proceeded to destroy the homunculus from the inside out, splattering blood and sinews all over their surroundings, skin, and clothes. Becca cringed, wiping it off of her face with a curt “Ew” before the mess began to disintegrate, dust crawling back towards one central mass.

“Give me something strong!” Ling barked. “Something to hold him with!”

“Right!” Ed shouted, darting towards the train tracks. Becca exchanged a look with Al, then followed in his footsteps. One clap later, transmutation energy flowed through the metal, transforming it into a slightly more pliable, thick wire that took both Al and Becca’s full strength to hoist towards Ling, though with his momentum and apparently superhuman strength-- God, Becca thought, Maybe that food does go somewhere -- handled it with ease, darting around the homunculus as it slowly healed.

“There,” he huffed as he twisted the wire into a rudimentary knot on the top of the homunculus’ head and the others looked on in awe. “He’s trapped himself with his own regenerative capabilities!”

“You… got him,” Becca breathed.

“That was amazing,” Al said reverently.

Ed hummed, then visibly wilted and mumbled, “But what are we supposed to do with him now?”

“You- what have you created?” Scar said, breaths coming heavy and panicked. All four teenagers turned, and she didn’t know about the others, but Becca went pale.

“Oh, I forgot about him,” she breathed.

“I didn’t,” Ed growled, pushing his sleeves up. “And now’s our chance to avenge the Rockbells and all those other people he killed. Hey, Scar!”

When the Ishvalan started and turned towards them, eyes wild with… fear, Becca dared to decide, Ed readied himself to charge and she was about to shout at him to wait, that Scar was unpredictable right now after what he’d just seen happen to the homunculus, that they’d accomplished their goal, at least until gunshots rang through the trainyard and she instead shrieked wordlessly, then grabbed both boys and shoved them down to the ground.

“Ling! Get down!” she called over her shoulder, only to see that he’d already ducked behind the captive homunculus to use it as a shield.

Scar, hit in one leg, went down, and a car screeched to a stop a few meters away from the homunculus.

“Put him here and let’s go!” the blonde woman in the front seat ordered. Upon hearing her voice, Becca blinked away the disorientation from the gunfire (which, when she realized who exactly was driving, made perfect sense) and quickly recognized Lieutenant Hawkeye wearing a pair of glasses with her hair down. Ling looked to their group for approval. Becca nodded, and he wasted no time hoisting the homunculus, still wailing and flexing against its bonds, into the open back of the car and hopped right in after it.

“Who is-?” Ed mumbled before Becca elbowed him in the stomach. He yelped, then frowned at her incredulous look, then peered closer and mouthed a small Oh.

“The MPs could show up at any minute. Pretend we don’t know her,” Becca advised under her breath, “both of you. Keep looking at Scar. Plausible deniability is the name of the game, people.”

Sure enough, as the car peeled away, military officers rounded the corner and had to leap out of the way of the speeding vehicle.

“I hope they’re okay,” Al said quietly as they watched Ling, Hawkeye, and the homunculus disappear.

“Mustang’s a bastard, but we can trust him and his team, and Hawkeye’s capable. She’ll keep Ling and the homunculus in line,” Ed assured. “Let’s worry about them for now.” He pointed to the officers regrouping themselves and Becca nearly choked to see Will among them, blue eyes flicking around and easily settling on her.

“Uh- do you think they saw us looking at them?” she asked, voice going up an octave.

Ed’s eyes scanned the crowd and widened at the sight. “Illusion, go follow that car!” he shouted, shooing her away, noticeably enough that the MPs should notice. “Officers, we need backup with Scar!”

“Yes, sir!”

Despite herself, Becca almost laughed at the commanding tone coming out of Ed’s mouth-- more specifically, how out of place it was. Still, with one more glance towards her increasingly conflicted looking brother, she nodded curtly and took off, following the sounds of squealing wheels and surprised shouting. She sprinted past a dark sidestreet, then had to backtrack when she heard the homunculus’ whiny voice.

“Why did you stop?” she hissed, jogging up to Hawkeye’s side door.

The lieutenant jerked her head to the sidewalk. Ling had crouched down by a crooked manhole cover, pulling at the stained, heavy metal. When he finally wedged it off enough that someone could get in or out of it, he screamed through the hole, “Lan Fan! Come on, we’re getting out of here!”

Lan Fan’s down there?” Becca said incredulously, bolting toward the hole.

“You know his friend?” Hawkeye asked, but Becca ignored her confusion. There clearly wasn’t the time for it right now.

God, she should have realized Ling’s guard was missing earlier. There was no way Lan Fan would ever let him go into battle alone, much less allow him to leave her behind without having some way to keep an eye on him. Ling was still calling out for her when Becca hit her knees beside him.

“Go get her,” she said quickly. “If she could, she’d come when you called the first time.”

Ling faltered, then forced himself to take a deep breath and nodded resolutely, slipping through the hole and into the darkness below. The few minutes she and Hawkeye sat in silence, the lieutenant keeping watch in the idling car and Becca keeping watch on the entrance to the sewer, was only broken by the homunculus’ continued whimpering. Becca prayed Ling would return with Lan Fan, maybe a little worse for wear, but ultimately fine against all the odds. When those minutes were up and the first sounds up wasn’t Lan Fan scolding the prince for however he managed to wriggle out of her line of sight, she knew that hope was dashed. Instead, she heard pained gasps and Ling’s grunts as he climbed back up the ladder, then let out a gasp of her own when the pair appeared in the low light.

“What happened?!” she demanded upon seeing the bloody stump where the girl’s left arm used to be. Compounded with her pale pallor, shallow breaths, and heavily lidded eyes, it was clear she’d been through an ordeal. Ling opened his mouth, but Becca waved him quiet and said, “Never mind, it doesn’t matter. We’ve got to go- Oh, my God, did you leave her in the sewer like this?”

“Where else was I supposed to leave her?” Ling snapped.

Becca… didn’t have an answer for that, so she huffed and bodied the rest of the cover off of the hole so they could both fit, then steadied Ling as he pulled himself out, offering support by boosting Lan Fan’s back until they got to the car.

“Please tell me you have a first aid kit,” Becca said, clambering into the car and preparing a large place for Lan Fan to lay.

“You think first aid can fix that?” Ling said.

“I think I can at least start cleaning the wound so it doesn’t get infected before we can get actual help,” she fired back.

“Kit is under your seat,” Hawkeye said as she revved the engine.

“Thank you.”

When Ling set her down in front of the homunculus strapped to the back panel, effectively splaying her out across the back seat of the car, Lan Fan’s eyes burst open and she flinched in pain.

“Drive!” Becca barked, popping open the metal first aid box and going straight for the bottle of antiseptic and small rags. Lowering her voice significantly, she began talking to Lan Fan, if only to calm her down. “It’s alright. You’re gonna be just fine.”

“The young master- where’s the prince-”

“He’s alright too. He’s-”

She squirmed, jostling her shoulder and causing more shivers of pain to wrack up and down her body, though that didn't stop her from protesting, “No, no, he went off by himself to hunt that thing-”

Ling swivelled in the front seat and reassured, “I’m right here, Lan Fan. You did well. We did it. Let Becca take care of you.” Before he turned back around, Becca noted the tightness in his form, the tears in his eyes. This was killing him.

Immediately feeling a little bad for snapping at him earlier, and touched that he still entrusted his disciple to her instead of insisting to care for her himself, Becca nodded resolutely. “Relax, Lan Fan. It’s going to be okay.”

---

“How much longer?” Ling ordered.

“Just a few more miles,” Hawkeye said, annoyed.

It was a good thing Hawkeye knew where she was going, because Becca certainly didn’t, nor did she particularly care as Lan Fan kept bleeding all over the leather seats. She babbled for hours to keep her awake while sterilizing the wound, during which the other girl winced, pressing any spare fabric to it to stop the bleed, during which she cried out at the pressure, and tipping cool water into her mouth whenever she could, during which she finally relaxed marginally.

“Tell me about the journey across the desert,” Becca said when Lan Fan kept dozing off while Becca spoke. “What was it like?”
“Hot,” Lan Fan croaked. “Took longer than we thought it would.”

“Yeah?” Becca asked, mopping up more blood leaking through the hastily packed on rags. “Why?”

“We ran out of food. Harder- harder to go for long distances without it.”
“Mm-hmm. Whose fault was it that you ran out? Ling’s?”

Her brow furrowed. “‘T wasn’t the young lord’s fault. I should have packed more.”
Even Becca couldn’t hold back a laugh, especially not when Ling let out a wet chuckle of his own.

“No, Lan Fan, that wasn’t your fault. We took as much as we could carry between the three of us.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask. Why did you guys cross the desert anyway?” Becca asked, genuine curiosity pairing up with a focus on keeping Lan Fan’s mind occupied. “Why do you need this immortality so badly?”

The Xingese exchanged a secretive look. Ling inclined his chin and Lan Fan frowned, but sighed and leaned back, allowing her head to rest on the armrest of the seat. “Xing’s government is… different from yours.”

“Yeah, you guys have a monarchy, right?”

“Yes, the emperor. My father. He has advisors, but ultimately, he is the final say on all things in our country” Ling narrowed his eyes and noted, “Though after some consideration, our countries may not be so different after all in that respect-”

“Young lord,” Lan Fan interrupted.

“Right. Sorry. Either way, our line of succession is different as well. You see, Xing is actually a very fractured nation, made up of fifty clans.”

“Our ancestors bonded together to be allies and create the country as it is now, but we’re hardly unified. The only thing that really keeps us together is the emperor,” Lan Fan admitted.

“My father,” Ling said. “And the father of my 42 siblings.”

“42?!”

“The emperor takes a concubine from each of the tribes and fathers one child with each. I am twelfth in line for the throne,” the prince said, averting his face. He already naturally looked older than he was, but that was just his appearance. At that moment, it seemed like Ling had the weight of the world on his shoulders. It was more than seeming older… it was a deep exhaustion that aged him decades in a single moment. “The throne doesn’t go just to the oldest child in Xing, it goes to whichever sibling the emperor decrees to give it to, which doesn’t exactly foster a friendly family spirit.

“Fu has been guarding me against assasination attempts since I was a child, and Lan Fan joined him as soon as she could,” he confessed.

“I had to protect you,” Lan Fan countered, voice weak. “You are the key to the survival of our clan.”

Swallowing thickly, Ling reached over and brushed a few strands of hair out of his guardian’s face. His eyes were misty, but he clearly tried to sound normal as he explained, “We need the Philosopher’s Stone so we can guarantee I will inherit the throne. I believe my country can be great, and I want to lead it to what I know it can be.”

“Ling, I-”

Hawkeye slammed on the brakes, sending all three of them, as well as the homunculus, hurtling forward. Lan Fan cried out in pain.

“We’re here,” she said curtly. “Let’s hurry inside.”

Ling hopped out at once, ready to scoop Lan Fan right up, until Becca held her hand up. “I’ve got her,” she said gently. “Take care of the homunculus.”

His face shifted into a scowl, but Becca held her ground.

“This all would have been for nothing if he escapes,” she pushed, jutting out her chin in the homunculus’ direction. “I will take care of her.”

“Keep track of that thing, my lord,” Lan Fan requested. “Go.”

---

Becca rubbed at her temples, taking intentional breaths through her mouth to fight against both the barrage of antiseptic that permeated the entire tiny room as she doused the wound again and again as well as another growing headache-- hopefully just stemming from the aforementioned smell and not anything else. Still, she made a note to make herself some tea once she had a moment.

“She got left in the sewer after cutting her own arm off?” a man exclaimed as he slammed the door to the rickety old bedroom open. Becca winced, her head throbbing dangerously, and Mustang followed close behind, shutting the door a little softer.

“This is Dr. Knox,” he introduced tiredly. “One of our old war buddies.”

“You left her in the sewer?” Knox said again, glaring over at Ling, huddled in the corner. “She’ll get tetanus at the least-”

“Do not blame the young lord,” Lan Fan said defensively. “It was my choice, and I will live with it, no matter what.”

“I didn’t-” Ling started.

“Don’t be stupid,” the doctor snapped.

Becca stood up from her chair by the bedside, gesturing for the doctor to take her spot across from Hawkeye while she slid over to Ling’s space on the floor. She bent down, grasping his chin and tilting his face up so their eyes met. It seemed all the adrenaline from the day had finally died, leaving the boy slumped and weary, and any energy in his gaze entirely sapped.

“Ling?”

“Hm?”

“Why don’t you come sit in the hallway? We’ll find some water, something to eat-”

“No.”

“Come on-”

Ling shook his head violently.

“Ling, please.”

“This is my fault, I can’t just leave now-”

“She needs you to go,” Becca whispered. “I know it hurts. I know. But look at her.”

She pointed up to the bed where Lan Fan was using what little strength remained in her body to keep arguing with Dr. Knox, insisting she was fine, that she didn’t need his help.

“She’s trying to stay strong for you,” she explained, tugging him towards the door. “She and I are similar like that. I tried to hide things like this from the boys once and it almost cost us our lives. She can’t be honest about what she’s going through with you here. She won’t. You need to go. For her sake.”

Looking desperately over her shoulder one more time and with one more pained whimper the Lan Fan audibly tried to bite back, he finally grunted in affirmation and allowed Becca to steer him out of the room, letting the door bang shut behind them.

“Bex?”

She blinked, noticing Ed and Al standing by themselves in the hallway, but tried to force a smile either way. “Hey, you two. Everything turn out okay back at the trainyard? Where’s Winry?”

“We took care of her. She’s alright,” Al assured, “but she wanted to go back to Rush Valley. People there needed her, and… I think she needed them right now as well. We said goodbye at the station.”

“Good, good,” she said approvingly, surveying both Elrics without a word to assess their injuries. As her eyes traced up Al’s body, noting all the new scratches and scuffs, she had to do a double take. “And, uh… who’s this?” she asked upon seeing the little black and white bear perched on behind one of the spikes on his shoulder.

The animal proceeded to notice her staring and promptly bare its teeth and growl in her direction.

Fun.

“She was scared and alone! I couldn’t just leave her there!” Al said exasperatedly. Becca smiled tiredly. She had to assume he’d already had to explain this to Ed, presumably a very long bickering session on the way to the safe house.

“Ah,” Becca mumbled, any more eloquence pertaining to the subject quelled as another wave of pain swelled. She pressed her fingers to her forehead and tried to massage some out to little avail.

Ed was at her side before she could say another word, hands coming to rest on her upper arms and rubbing little circles into the fabric of her sleeves. “You okay?”

“Fine.”

“Illusion, we need an extra pair of hands!” the doctor’s rough voice shouted through the door. “Get back in here!”

Taking a long, deliberate breath, Becca nodded, then realized those with Lan Fan couldn’t exactly see her. “Be right there,” she croaked, pushing any pain to the back of her mind.

“Maybe you shouldn’t-” Ed said as she shrugged his touch off, steeling herself to return to the bloodbath.

“I can help. I have to help,” she insisted. “I’ve got it.”

Pointedly, to Ling, she added, “I promise,” and ducked back into the bedroom. She bumped into Mustang on the way out, the reason for which was clear once she saw Lan Fan shirtless but for the binding wrapped around her chest, exposing the full extent of the wound. Then she almost gagged.

“Here, come here,” the doctor said sternly. “Pull yourself together. You hold her shoulder down while I finish the amputation. Lieutenant, keep this cloth in her mouth. You,” he said to Lan Fan, teary eyed and breathing shallowly, “bite down and try not to thrash too much.”

The girl nodded, and the screaming began.

---

Lan Fan came back into full consciousness impressively quickly after the surgery finally ended. Hawkeye and Knox were still occupied cleaning up, but Becca hadn’t left her post by the bedside, bent over and trying to breathe through the continued headache pains. She’d determined it was not, in fact, from the smell of disinfectant. Outside the room, she could hear Ed, Al, Ling, and Mustang shuffling down the hall when Lan Fan spoke.

“Edward has mechanical limbs, doesn’t he?”

Gasping sharply, Becca pulled herself back into a sitting position, leaning closer to Lan Fan“You’re awake! How do you feel?”

“Fine. He does have that- that automail, right?”

“I- yeah, he does. How- um- how did you know?”

“I borrowed his technique to throw off our pursuer,” Lan Fan said with a quiet smirk. When Becca raised an eyebrow, she clarified, “That’s why he lost his arm, back when we first met… he used it as bait to trap me.”

Despite her aching head, Becca giggled. “Oh. Yeah, okay, that would make sense why he wouldn’t have told me. He gets embarrassed.”

“I can see why,” Lan Fan said.

Hm. Becca chose to ignore that. Lan Fan was delirious. “Why do you ask about the automail?”

“Well, I’ll need another one,” she said plainly. “To continue protecting my prince.”

Becca hesitated. She bit her lip, respect welling in her chest. Even after everything she’d been through, Lan Fan still wanted to put Ling above all. Her own health, duty to her country- it was admirable. And given how he’d looked at her earlier, the exact same thoughts were running through Ling’s head.

It was a little bittersweet, she thought. She could only hope to have someone that devoted to her someday.

Not today, though.

Today, it was more important to care for Lan Fan as best she could. And that included providing comfort and hope.

“I’m sure Ed’s mechanic would be thrilled to take you on,” she said. “And you’ll even get to meet her before she’s known as the best of the best. Do you- do you want to see Ling?”

Lan Fan considered it for a moment, then nodded.

“Then rest,” Becca said, “and I’ll go find him. I’m sure he’d love to see you.”

---

When she found the others, however, Lan Fan was hardly the main topic of conversation. They’d indeed been shuffling around earlier, and had congregated in front of the spare room where Ling had stored the homunculus.

“The corruption in your government goes much deeper than just ‘higher ups’,” Ling was saying. “Your president, King Bradley, might be a homunculus as well.”

“What?!”

“Huh?!”

“Hold on-”

“How the hell did we get here?” Becca interrupted.

“I saw the mark on his eye, under the patch, while I was fighting him and Gluttony,” Ling said earnestly, gesturing into the darkened room with their captive. “They had us cornered and-”

“But how could he be?” Ed asked. “He has aides and- and a family! They’d have to know, right?”
Ling held up a hand. “Well, that’s where the ‘might’ comes in. Gluttony felt- feels… inhuman. Bradley’s similar, but under all of that, he still feels human.”

“And doesn’t the Fuhrer have a son?” Becca asked. “According to all of our research, homunculi don’t have the capability to reproduce.”

Across the hallway, Mustang went pale. Becca blinked.

“What?”

“Well, that’s the thing about working in Central,” he said quietly. “You hear everything. Including the fact that the president’s son, Selim, is adopted. There’s no relation between him and his father.”

Becca’s mind ran through every interaction with Bradley she’d ever had. He’d always given her the creeps, made her skin crawl, she knew that, but she’d initially figured that was because of the power he held over her due to his status. After their conversation about her debt, she’d thought it was because of how he quite literally held her life in his hands. She’d never imagined it would be because he was… a homunculus.

But the more she thought, the more it made sense. His heavy, uncompromising air. His inhuman speed. His ability to constantly be wherever he needed to in order to simultaneously keep them in line and keep them safe.

When it came to speaking, though, the only thing that came out was, “We need to stop joking about this stuff.”

Chapter 36: truculent

Notes:

helloooooo my dears!!!

i'm so, so sorry this is a tad late. college has been busy but we vibin'. as of the end of this chapter, we have once again entered an arc i'm hyped about because i planned it in detail several months ago, so i've had a lot of time to think about it. (also we're getting closer to the north which will have many things happening very quickly so get hyped for that but shh...)

i hope everyone who read the halloween special (part... 4? in the series i think?) enjoyed it, and if you haven't go check it out if you're just looking for the kids having fun before we get a lil more serious here in the next few updates.

in other business, i think i'm going to move updating days to fridays for at least the next few weeks. i don't have any classes then so i can use that entire day to catch up on this instead :)

truculent (adjective)- overly aggressive; eager to fight

Chapter Text

Mustang got over his shock the quickest, breathing out a short huff of laughter, then drew himself up to his full height, a smirk spread across his face. “Homunculus or human being, what does it matter?” he said. “Either way, his involvement in all this will make it so much easier to topple him off the throne. First, I get all the information I can out of Gluttony. Then, I can bring it to the Fuhrer as blackmail so he’ll step down. Might as well take the Philosopher’s Stone while I’m at it to heal Havoc-”

“Um, sir?” Becca tried.

“Hey!” Ling cut in. “Lan Fan lost an arm for the sake of that Stone and we need to return it to Xing! It’s our best lead to immortality!”

“Hey, all, maybe we should-”

Waving his hands frantically, Ed added his own voice to the din. “Hold on just one second, Al and I have been looking for a way to get our bodies back for years! This is our lead too, I’m not letting either of you just walk away with it!”

“Ed, you guys didn’t even want the Stone-”

“You two are here illegally anyway,” Mustang said flippantly towards the prince. “Do you really think you could take this thing out of the country without our help? You’ll get to take it back to your emperor when we’ve done everything we need to with the Stone here.”

“Let’s all calm down,” Becca said, stepping into the middle of the rough circle that had formed. “If we argue, we’ll just implode on ourselves and nothing productive will get done. Now let’s try and logically think this through-”

Three animosity-filled shouts of dissent firmly shut down that suggestion, but as Becca tried to protest again, the door to Lan Fan’s room opened noisily and Dr. Knox stomped out, his meager medical bag in hand and seemingly typical grumpy expression firmly fixing his mouth in a frown. “That’s it from me, Mustang,” he said, pulling on his coat. “The girl will survive, but I’m getting too old for this. I’m going home.”

“You can’t leave yet! What if we need a tiebreaker?”

“That’s not fair, Colonel,” Ed snapped.

Ling crossed his arms, pushing his chest out in an attempt to look bigger. “The emperor is on his deathbed, we’re on a time limit! We need to take Gluttony now!”

Among all the bickering, Becca’s headache was only spiking. She took a few steps back, closer to Ed’s side, whilst rubbing at her forehead again, then paused when she heard the floorboards creaking through the doorway to the spare room next to her. Gluttony the homunculus had yet to stop expanding, straining against the metal cord binding him. However, he’d started to growl, rocking back and forth with his jaw snapping as he mumbled something over and over.

“Um… guys?” she said carefully.

“What, Becca?!” Ed, Mustang, and Ling said.

Hand shaking, she pointed towards the homunculus and opened her mouth, but no one could even react to the sight of the fat man foaming at the mouth before he shrieked “Roy Mustang!” so loudly they all clapped their hands over their ears in an attempt to block him out. As they watched in varying degrees of horror, a ripping sound rang through the clearing, Becca caught a flash of white and red in Gluttony’s gut, and the hallway exploded around them.

---

Lan Fan’s face flashed through Becca’s head as she blinked quickly, trying to clear her head after having been blown into a pile of wood that had formerly made up the outermost wall of the safehouse. She coughed, then pushed herself up from the splinters and felt around to where Ling should have landed next to her. Luckily, it took only a few swipes for her to close her fist around a handful of silk and tug, which only prompted a thin, calloused hand to grasp tightly at her wrist, almost to the point of pain until Ling seemed to recognize her and quickly loosened his grip.

“What the hell just happened?” Ed rasped from a few feet to her left. Becca looked over, seeing Al crouched over Ed, who had the little panda clinging to the end of his braid, protecting both of them from above as Ling clambered to his feet and immediately offered her a hand, which she accepted. “What did he do?”

“Colonel! Colonel Mustang!”

“Lieutenant, keep your distance!” Mustang barked, already dragging himself and Dr. Knox out of the debris. “Don’t provoke it! I’m the one it wants!”

“Mustang!” Gluttony howled again like he was proving his point, drawing himself up to his full height that was somehow fuller than before. The white and red Becca had glimpsed prior to the destruction made itself apparent as his mouth extended downwards, engulfing his chest so the monster was more mouth than body, with sharp teeth in place of ribs and a deep, dark hole instead of a throat. He lunged at the colonel, though that forced most of the group to scramble out of the way to avoid them.

Lan Fan emerged through her foggy thoughts once more and Becca started. “We’ve gotta get-”

“Lan Fan,” Ling finished her train of thought. “Come on!”

They vaulted over the wooden planks as Gluttony took another shot at Mustang. Becca shouted at the boys to keep him busy.

Ed, however, turned over his shoulder at once when he realized she’d moved. “Becca, be careful! The house is gonna come down and you’re-!”

“I’ll be right back!”

“Bex!”

Ling had already dashed to Lan Fan’s room and was filling her in on the situation as fast as he could while helping her out of bed. He took her injured side, cautious around the wound but firm enough to lead her to safety, so Becca threw her remaining arm over her shoulder and supported her weight, trusting the prince to get them out while keeping his attendant calm. Answering her questions but at least keeping her moving, they managed to hobble out the back door, where Al beckoned them frantically behind a mound of rubble where he, Ed, Mustang, Knox, and Hawkeye had all gathered.

“Is this what your alchemy creates?” Ling said frustratedly when they were in earshot. He and Becca deposited Lan Fan gently to the ground so she could lean against the makeshift protective wall, and then Becca promptly sank to her knees as well, rather than crouching on her feet like the others. Ed wrapped a protective arm around her and glared across their makeshift circle at Ling, but didn’t offer any rebuttal to the accusation in his tone.

“It doesn’t matter who or what created it,” Mustang said, voice slightly muffled as he tugged off his regular duty gloves with his teeth. Next to him, Hawkeye produced a set of ignition gloves-- a sure sign that the colonel was preparing for a serious battle, wanting to make sure any flame he tried to strike would set, since the gloves became largely null and void after the scars on his hands from the Third Lab. “We’re going to kill it.”

Becca’s face fell and she scrunched up her nose, both in pain and disappointment, letting it fall into the fabric of Ed’s shoulder before anyone could see it. It made sense, she supposed, but it was hardly fair-!

“No!” Al and Ling protested as one.

“After everything we did to get a live homunculus, we can’t just give up on him this easily!” Al said.

Ling nodded fervently. “Not to mention how much it takes to destroy-”

“I know what it takes to kill a homunculus!” Mustang snapped. “Our survival is the top priority, and it already knows our names and faces. We can’t risk letting it escape alive, understood?”

No one spoke, neither for nor against the idea, and all of them averted their eyes, so Mustang decided to either demonstrate or affirm what he’d already said by snapping his fingers so a wave of fire rolled out from over their shelter and towards the homunculus, surely the first of many fatal blows, except for the fact that-

Wind rushed around them, whipping their hair and loose clothes towards where Gluttony still stood in the middle of the wrecked house, and then it went quiet. They peered over the top of their pile to see the homunculus looking rather confusedly down at his own stomach, but not a lick of flames. As he perked back up in their direction, they ducked, all sharing panicked glances.

“It swallowed the fire?” Becca said, blinking.

Mustang bolted out from the cover of their makeshift shelter first, but Ed, Al, and even Hawkeye were hot on his tail. Gluttony chased them and they could hear the sounds of destruction as he crashed into the forest after them. Becca started to get up, but then shared a guilty look with Ling over Lan Fan’s head. Like he could sense her indecision, Ed turned over his shoulder and shouted, “Bex, stay here!”

“We can't just sit here,” Lan Fan wheezed. “He’ll find us.”

“That thing swallowed the Lieutenant’s car,” Knox said abruptly. Becca jumped. Honestly, she’d forgotten the doctor was still there. He wasn’t able to fight Gluttony, so hadn’t contributed much to the conversation, but his stern expression brought a much needed stability to their group. “But the colonel drove me here and we parked over there.” He pointed to the opposite, mostly undamaged part of the safehouse.

“You want us to run?” Ling asked.

“The girl is right, we’re sitting ducks right now,” Knox said irritatedly, “and I just put a whole lot of work into saving her life, nor do I have a death wish. I don’t care what you two do, but I’m getting the car and getting her and I out of here.”

The doctor got to his feet and made a break for the other side of the house.

Biting his lip, Ling looked to Becca, searching for backup in what he knew he’d have to do. Becca gestured toward Lan Fan and he sighed.

“Lan Fan, he’s-”

“No, young lord, I won’t abandon you again-”

“He’s right-”

“You’ll die if you stay-”

“Then I’ll die doing my duty to you and our people-”

“I can’t- I won’t let you-”

Their bickering was only disrupted by another one of Gluttony’s distinctive howls from the forest, followed by a chorus of human yells.

“You stay with her,” she said to Ling, forcing herself to her feet. “I’m going to help.”

“Becca, wait-!”

---

The woods were hardly silent, but the shouting had at least stopped by the time Becca made her way in. It was obvious, however, that none of the combatants had stayed on the beaten path for very long. To her left, she heard the signature metal banging of Al’s elbows knocking on his chest plate when he ran, but to the right, Gluttony’s monstrous moans sounded like a much more pressing matter. So, swallowing thickly against a wave of pain throbbing in what felt like her entire body, Becca charged in that direction, though she hardly got far before she was bumping into someone and startled both of them. At least they were both firm, meaning that neither had to see the other to know they’d run into an ally, otherwise Hawkeye might have opened fire. As it was, when Becca looked up at the lieutenant and checked in, “Have you seen anyone else?”, she still took a moment to register her face and relax.

“Not since we split up to try and confuse it,” she said. “But I’m looking for Colonel Mustang. That thing might be able to track him so-”

Becca sighed. “So he’s probably in the most danger, great. Guess we should go find him then.”

They didn’t have to look hard since they’d only been sneaking from shadow to shadow for a few minutes before the colonel stumbled, collapsing to his knees right into their path. Still, his hands flew up, prepared to snap on instinct until he recognized them and slowly relaxed.

“Lieutenant,” he huffed, crossing his arms around his middle, “Illusion. I thought-”

Heart clenching, Becca remembered Mustang was definitely still injured from the fight at the Third Lab. With Hawkeye watching over them, she felt comfortable enough kneeling beside him and trying to get him to uncurl from around himself. “You thought you might have reopened your wound?” she suggested, only barely joking.

He seemed to take it well and wheezed out a sarcastic laugh as he allowed her to help him up, if only into a crouch rather than a ball on the ground. “You can’t stay here. You two should get out of here. I- I look pathetic right now, but I’ll be fine-”

“With all due respect, sir,” Hawkeye said as she checked the safety on her gun, “like hell we’ll be leaving you.” She nudged him with the thick soles of her boot. “Now get up.”

Becca made a sound of agreement, pushing herself up and offering him a hand.

“Tell me why I figured you’d say that,” Mustang sighed, then took her hand and staggered up after her. He glared over his shoulder and flinched when they all heard branches snapping as a huge mass smashed through them. He and Hawkeye shared a look she wasn’t exactly privvy over Becca’s head. The lieutenant stepped in front of her and even Mustang shifted slightly, still leaning on Becca heavily but putting himself between her and the approaching homunculus. For her part, Becca frowned, whispered, “I’m not a baby”, only for the adults to roll their eyes at her, and tapped her hands together to prepare for an attack she was sure was coming, at least until a ripped portion of Mustang’s jacket brushed against her cheek and an idea started to form.

“Colonel, give me your coat,” she requested as she bent back down.

“My coat- why do you-?”

Gluttony howled in anticipation from nearby, the sound making Becca’s headache spike and she snapped, “Are you seriously questioning me right now?”

She didn’t look up because any unnecessary movement frankly sounded like torture at the moment, but Mustang’s blue coat fluttered onto her shoulders anyway. Taking a deep breath, she directed all her focus entirely to her fingertips pressed against the ground and the environment that extended around her, sensing the elements making up the earth that she could manipulate without expending too much energy, and, in a single movement, created a small, humanoid statuette She reached out a few feet to a patch of dark colored flowers and pulled up a handful, quickly identifying them as mountain alder and grinning widely, then adjusted her transmuted trick with some spiky, flower-dyed black hair and draped the military blues around it.

Sitting back on her heels, she looked to the colonel for approval. “You think that’ll fool him?”

“Smart idea, but it won’t work if there are two of me when he gets here,” Mustang said. “Come on.”

And they ran.

Just in the nick of time, it seems, since only a few moments after they vacated the area, there was a loud crack, the gnashing of enormous teeth, and a screamed, “Roy Mustang!”

“I think it fooled him,” Becca said.

---

“How the hell did you piss him off that bad?” Ed asked as they ran out of the forest on a dead sprint towards the remnants of the safehouse. “We heard it from here!”

“Don’t worry about it. How many people can we safely transport?” Becca said, peering into the cab of the car. Dr. Knox was in the driver’s seat and Lan Fan had been sprawled across the back seat, leaving only two spots left. All at once, the teenagers turned towards Mustang and Hawkeye.

Mustang looked between them, making eye contact with each. When he looked at her, Becca averted her eyes.

“Seriously?” he said indignantly. 

“Get in the car!” Ed ordered. 

 

“You’ll only get in the way!” Al said.

“Sorry, Colonel,” Hawkeye said. “You won’t be any help in your condition.”

Ed turned away, scowling, and even Al had stubbornly wrapped himself up with arms across his chest. Becca, however, dared a peek up and recognized the slightest hints of guilt staggered behind the ever-present pride and self-assurance in his eyes. She took a deep breath and tried to reassure him as best she could. “Everything will be fine here, sir. And besides,” she said, gesturing expectantly and trying to keep a casual tone, “if Ling is right about Fuhrer Bradley-”

“I am,” the prince interjected.

“-then that means the leader of our country is a homunculus with an agenda we’ve hardly started to understand. Don’t you think you should do something about that since you’re the only one who’s even slightly privileged enough to get close to him? We sure as hell aren’t.”

Mustang paused, then a slow smile spread across his face. “You three really couldn’t do this without me, can you?”

“Oh, shut up,” Ed said, rolling his eyes.

“There’s no time for this bantering shit, get in the car!” Dr. Knox demanded through the rolled down passenger side window.

Hawkeye and Mustang obeyed, Hawkeye in the front seat and Mustang in the back, but Ling, Ed, Al, and Becca didn’t move. Mustang held his door open, waving them forward. “Hurry up!”

After a confirming nod with the other teenagers and smiling tightly, Becca said, “It looks like you’re out of seats.”

The adults only just seemed to realize that and, subsequently, let out a series of objections.

“You expect us to run and leave a couple of kids to deal with this mess?”

“Don’t be foolish!”

“Don’t make me order you-”

“It doesn’t matter that we’re kids,” Ed said, suddenly sounding much more mature than usual, though he still thumbed his chest proudly as he continued. “We’re the ones who came up with this plan and we need to see it through. We haven’t gotten all of our answers!”

Al patted the top of the car reassuringly. “Thanks for all the help, but it’s time for us to clean up our own mess.”

“Although…” Ed said hesitantly, “maybe… maybe you should go with them, Bex.”

“What?” Ling asked.

“Brother-” Al interrupted.

“Excuse me?” Becca said, raising an eyebrow.

Ed put his hands up at once, wincing, and pushed, “Look, I’m just saying, you’re having one of your headaches and you know how it can get-”

“‘One of’?” Mustang asked. At least Ed went a little pink when Becca frowned at him for that particular revelation, but Mustang still only heaved a long suffering sigh and said, “Okay. Another thing we’re talking about later.”

“Once again, I’m not a child-”

“I know, I just-”

“You don’t have to do this alone-”

“That’s not what I’m saying-”

“Shut up!” Dr. Knox snapped. “If neither of you are getting in, then shut the damn door! We’re getting out of here.”

“Bex-”

Becca crossed her arms tightly, tense enough to keep her hands from trembling and giving away just how much worse drawing attention to the problem was making it. “I’m staying. You take the ones in the car and go ahead.”

What have I done to make him worry about me right now? With all this going on? she thought. He shouldn’t feel like that. He already has people to worry about. I should have… hidden it better, I should have-

Knox growled, interrupting her contemplation.“Sounds perfect.”

“One more thing,” Hawkeye said. There was a click of ammo loading into the barrel of a gun and all too suddenly, the lieutenant’s handgun was sticking out the window handle first. “Take this.”

Becca’s stomach sank. 

“That’s… that’s for killing people,” Al said softly.

“It’s for keeping yourselves safe,” Hawkeye corrected as gently as was appropriate. “You two know how to use it from basic training, right?”

Logically, she knew Hawkeye was right. They were going into a situation against a nearly unkillable monster but-

Ed stared down at the offered weapon, stuttering, “I- I don’t know if I can-”

She swallowed, catching a glimpse of Ed’s face. The conflict, the fear of what he was being asked to do, trailed by a hesitant acceptance, and that made her decision for her. Ed and Al refused to kill. They’d told themselves that was their line they wouldn’t cross. Becca had never made that promise. Even if she was annoyed at him for treating her like glass, she wasn’t just going to let him give up his principles like that. As if he could feel her gaze on him, he looked up and their eyes met for just a second before they flickered back to the gun.

“I’ll take it,” she and Ed said at the same time.

“Becca, you don’t have to-”

“It makes sense,” she defended. “You have your arm. I need a weapon.”

His expression screwed up, but he relented with a soft breath and Hawkeye pressed the gun into Becca’s hand. She made sure the safety was on, then tucked it into the waistband of her pants.

“Take care of Lan Fan, please,” Ling said, tucking Lan Fan’s bandages in one final time.

“My lord?” Lan Fan said weakly, barely conscious.

“I’m gonna make sure your sacrifice isn’t in vain,” Ling muttered, pain etched on his face, as he turned away from the car and took off. Ed cast one more… confusing look at her, then relented and gestured her along with them back into the woods.

---

“How are we going to catch him?” Al asked as they slinked behind a few trees. They could hear Gluttony in a nearby clearing, but no one had gathered the courage to go and attack him yet. Somehow, taking him on was scarier now that they knew no more back up was coming. Al had said it was time for them to clean up their mess and he had been right. Now the problem was just how they should do it.

“It’s unfortunate that the colonel left,” Ling said solemnly.

“How come?” Becca asked.

They cringed upon hearing another angry scream of the colonel’s name from the gap in the trees up ahead. Deadpan, Ling said, “We could have fed him to Gluttony. Maybe that would calm him down.”

Unable to stop herself, a sharp laugh tore itself out of Becca’s throat, evidently a mistake since there was a few seconds of quiet before a quick round of cracking as the homunculus barrelled towards them. She heard the others shriek, or maybe it was all her, she wasn’t sure, as fear gripped her heart and she scrambled to get out of the way. Gluttony swallowed everything in his path, but luckily, he couldn’t exactly stop quickly, so Becca safely leapt to the side, colliding with Ed before hitting the ground, and Gluttony kept going.

“You okay?” she breathed against Ed’s shoulder, blinking away dizziness before trying to push herself up.

“Yeah, you?” Ed said. He moved her off and scrambled off, then stuck out his hand for her to take.

Becca nodded shakily, accepting the offer. “Are Ling and Al-”

“We’re over here!” Al called from the other side of Gluttony’s path of destruction. “And- hey! Where are you going?”

That spooked them enough that Becca and Ed jogged over to their compatriots. However, Al’s distress was just due to the little panda hopping out of the shelter of his armor and began padding down a darkened trail, growling. Becca scooped her up, patting her head, and cooed, “No, no, please don’t wander.”

The panda gave her a baleful look, but otherwise at least allowed herself to be placed back on Al’s shoulder, still glaring at the trees.

“Oh, come on, you too?” Ed whined.

Becca gave him a strange look and was about to question him until she caught sight of a pair of glowing eyes just beyond the treeline. “Um… guys?”

A large Doberman-esque dog strode towards them. Something about it seemed off-- maybe it was the oddly human swagger in the dog’s walk or its frankly gargantuan size. Or maybe it was the fact that it opened its mouth and a voice that had just barely danced on the edge of Becca’s nightmares for the last few weeks.

“Quit it, Gluttony!”

“It spoke?” Ling said loudly, then clapped a hand over his mouth.

“Oh!” The dog- Envy , if Becca remembered it correctly- grinned, then snarled, “You’re that kid from earlier!” Their body twisted, joints cracking as the dog reared onto its hind legs, morphing into the long-haired person she remembered from the Fifth Laboratory. Becca stepped forward, shouldering Ed slightly behind her. Envy relaxed, rolling his shoulders. “Hello again, Magician. And who could forget the Fullmetal Pipsqueak?”

“Don’t call me little!”

And there went any effort Becca put into keeping Ed away from another fight since he charged under her arm as soon as he was provoked, aiming a punch at Envy.

“Hey, hey, wait!” they yelped, dodging. “I’m not here to fight you, Pipsqueak, I just want to get Gluttony-”

“Five!”

Envy scowled, apparently unable to stop himself from taunting, “What’s this, are you counting down?”

“You’ve called me ‘pipsqueak’ five times now! Twice today,” Ed took another swing that Envy only just avoided by hopping backwards, “and three times at the Fifth Lab!”

“Oh, God,” Becca sighed.

“Well, for all your faults, at least I can’t say you’ve got a short memory.” Envy rolled their eyes.

Ed shouted wordlessly again and transmuted a nearby tree, wood shooting out of the trunk towards them.

“Don’t provoke him!” Al said loudly, grabbing Ed’s wrist as he passed.

Gluttony, still more tooth than body but not screaming anymore and looking rather… sad, toddled back into the clearing. “Mustang killed Lust,” he said. It was strange to hear such a growly, gravelly voice coming out of the usually babyish homunculus. Despite herself, Becca couldn’t help but feel a bit of her pang in her chest when he repeated, “He killed Lust… where’d he go?”

“I haven’t seen him,” Envy said exasperatedly, “and you can’t kill the colonel anyway, you know that.”

Gluttony whined, a little pitiful. Their group watched the interaction, shrunken together, but all equally bewildered by the homunculi’s conversation. Even Envy seemed slightly moved. They looked up, surveying around, and then their gaze settled to Becca’s left. She looked over and saw Ling, but nothing else.

Waving their hand flippantly, Envy said, “You know what, Gluttony? You can eat the Xingese brat. He’s already caused us enough trouble, so we can kill him now while we have the chance. Just keep away from the brothers and their little partner, okay?” They slapped Gluttony, teeth gnashing and mouth frothing, on the back as they encouraged, “Just start with the head!”

Becca jolted, but Ed didn’t seem phased. In fact, he actually smiled. “So they do need us alive then. That sure makes things easier.”

He clapped, slammed his hands into the ground, and a thick wall sprung up, splitting both parties in two. “They’re all yours!” Becca heard him call to her and Ling.

Pulling her eyes away from the newly constructed wall, Becca found herself face to face with Envy and side by side with Ling, and things became rather clear. Ling charged forward at once and blood spattered around them as he stabbed Envy through the stomach, tossing the homunculus back, though that didn’t stop them for long. Becca pulled out the handgun Hawkeye had given her and clicked the safety off, firing a few rounds to buy them a few more seconds. They sneered and barked, “Your skills are impressive, kid, I’ll admit that. You have to be to cross swords with Wrath-”

Fuhrer Bradley, Becca realized.

“-and live to tell the tale!”

“He’s talented,” Ling grunted, swinging around and swiping his blade in a wide arc. “Unlike you!” The prince lunged, but Becca noticed Envy shift ever so slightly and shouted a warning right right when Envy opened their mouth to snark.

“Get out of the way!”

“You fell for it!”

Becca jumped forward without thinking, shoving Ling out of the way at the same time that Envy’s arm morphed into some strange material Becca couldn’t identify except for the fact that it was uncomfortably cold, unusually hefty for Envy’s general slightness, and strong , wrapping tightly around her torso no matter how hard she thrashed against it.

“Becca!” Ling shouted, raising his weapon again.

“Don’t, Ling, they can’t-” Envy squeezed tighter and her heart and head throbbed in pain. Already in the middle of the sentence, though, she still wheezed, “-kill me!”

“That’s a good strategy,” Envy mused, dragging her closer, “taking the hit thinking I can’t touch you. Especially since I couldn’t beat any of you head to head, fighting like a regular human.” As they spoke, the end of the appendage holding Becca twisted and altered itself once more, becoming a hissing head of a snake that snapped its jaws near her neck, making her gulp. “But there’s a lot I can do that won’t kill you, right? And I don’t have to fight like a regular human. So would you rather be… bitten?”  they asked mockingly. “Crushed to unconsciousness?” They squeezed even harder and Becca’s vision blacked out for a second, then she sagged when the pressure let up. When she came back to herself, there was a blade in her face, protruding from the end of Envy’s arm. She winced. “Or perhaps you could stand to lose an arm? You think you’d pass out from that?”

“Becca-!”

Ling’s still here, Becca realized through the fog clouding her mind. She wiggled around in her bindings, only just managing to get her fingertips to brush against one another, but that was all she really needed.

“None of the above,” she croaked, pulling a trick out of Scar’s playbook and deconstructing Envy’s arm around her, blowing them off of her and herself back all in one motion. She dropped to the ground to her knees and Ling took her signal, darting past and slicing the homunculus open on the torso from bottom to top. Their combined attack made Envy howl in pain as well as bought them a few seconds to regroup, during which Ling helped her up at once. Wordlessly, they stood back to back, weapons at the ready, prepared for another barrage of attacks.

“That was a dirty trick! Distracting me-”

“No such thing as dirty in a fight,” Becca said pointedly as if Envy hadn’t had the perfect opportunity to hear Ed say exactly that in their first encounter. “You’d think you’d know that.”

“Especially not one for your life,” Ling added. “I’ve known that since I was a child. All I want is information on the Philosopher’s Stone. I won’t kill you if you give that up.”

The out, however, only made Envy angrier. They bared their teeth, drawing themself up to their full height, and raged, “You insolent twerp! You think you have the ability to bargain with me?”

“You think you can underestimate pure human stubbornness?” Ling countered, grinning ferally.

The wall next to them shuddered, once, twice, and shattered on the third, bits of rock flying towards them along with one suit of armor.

“Alphonse!”

“Come on, guys! You were supposed to keep him busy!” Ling complained, then turned over his shoulder and sliced off Envy’s leg when they tried to charge them during the moment of distraction.

“Sorry!” Al said, rolling onto his stomach and readying to fight once more.

Ling rolled his eyes, but ignored him and jumped on top of Envy, sword above his head. He brought it down to strike but-

“My Lord?” Lan Fan’s voice asked.

Ling froze.

“Ling!” Becca shouted, staggering towards him in an instant. Her thoughts were no doubt sluggish and her bout with Envy  had tired her, made her headache worse than she’d had one in months, but she could handle it. She had to handle it, get Ling off of them- Envy could shapeshift- Envy knew Lan Fan if they’d run into Ling after he’d fought Fuhrer Bradley- “That’s not-”

Lan Fan’s mask dissolved, revealing Envy sneering triumphantly. “Now, Gluttony!”

“Bex! Ling!” Ed screamed.

Becca only had time to reach out for Ling at the same time Ed slammed into her from the side, barely registering Gluttony’s gaping mouth swelling above them before it clamped shut and they were all plunged into darkness.

Then any ground that had been beneath them gave way. Any grip she’d had on the others gave out. And she was falling, falling, falling, and a scream tore itself out of her throat before she could stop it.

Chapter 37: druxy

Notes:

hellooooo, my dears!

um, hi, ignore me rolling up two weeks late with a starbucks. i thought i'd be able to get this and all my shit done, but alas, finals week and all the studying and papers and tests that come along with it did me in ✌️😔. so in apology, have an extra long chapter!

luckily, i am on winter break, so hopefully i'll be able to get a little ahead and stay on schedule for a bit, at least until the next finals week hits lol. i've missed writing and hanging out with becca (and y'all, ofc) and i hope this chapter is a nice boost to your holiday spirits, which i'm realizing right now is sort of a weird thing to say about this chapter in particular, but have fun with the angst anyway :).

we're getting closer and closer to the north so catch me getting more and more hyped. fun fact, if you go back and look, there's one author's note where i mentioned that i was getting excited for the north way too early, so safe to say that there'll be a lot going on there, but we ain't there yet, so enjoy the ride and i'll hopefully see you guys in two weeks (maybe earlier depending on how much time i've got on my hands).

druxy (adjective)- something whole on the outside, but rotten on the inside

Chapter Text

Becca felt like she fell for hours. In reality, it was probably only a few seconds, maybe a minute at most, but when she was clawing at the air, desperately searching for someone, anyone else to grab onto, it understandably became a little harder to keep track of time.

What didn’t take long was pain to bloom as she hit the ground-- or rather, hit and sank into the few feet of some thick liquid that thankfully slowed her down enough that she didn’t die on impact, but still hurt like a bitch to land on. Or in.
Not important.

She sat up, wiping the liquid off her face before all her senses fully returned. When they did, though, and the tangy, metallic smell of blood registered, her eyes widened and she gagged, standing up quickly and trying to swipe as much of it off of her as possible. There was only so much she could do against it when it was apparently the only thing surrounding her. Hell, it was the only sensation she could even comprehend, completely overwhelming her sense of smell, dripping over her skin and saturating her clothes, making small, far too happy sounding plinks! whenever it fell from her body to the larger pool below, and even just barely permeating her mouth through the air, through the deep breaths she was forcing herself to take to stay calm.

“Oh, God,” she couldn’t stop herself from choking out, hand coming up to cover her mouth.

With dawning horror, she moved her hand away from her mouth, waving it in front of her face. She could feel the slight movement in the thick air, feel her muscles flexing as she moved it, but the space around her was so dark she couldn’t see the limb moving.

That certainly didn’t help soothe her panicking mind. Her breathing picked up no matter how she tried to slow them, and her ears perked up whilst she prayed desperately that she’d hear someone splashing around or calling her name, anything to prove she wasn’t totally alone.

She pushed herself to her feet, staggering a few steps. Bizarrely, she found herself thanking her lucky stars when she tripped and slammed into a huge piece of metal, if only because she now knew there was something other than her in this void.

Oh, that’s gonna bruise, she winced, standing back up, but kept her hands on the cool… steel, she thought she sensed? Brushing up, up, up, it didn’t take long for metal to leather. Soaked leather. Frowning, she leaned over the ledge, almost falling into the metal box as she felt around for the bottom, the faintest hint of hope starting to take root in her chest as she groped blindly until a sharp clang sounded, signalling that she’d knocked into something.

Her fist curled around a roll of bandages and she laughed breathlessly. Tipping over even further so she did tumble into the cab of what she now recognized was Hawkeye’s car, the one Gluttony had swallowed, and she grabbed at the bottle of antiseptic she’d left out when rushing Lan Fan into the safehouse earlier. And because the first aid kit on the floor was Hawkeye’s and Hawkeye was a brilliant, strategic genius who was prepared for any and all situations, especially where Mustang was involved, there had to be-

“Yes!” she whispered, flicking on a lighter. The light it provided wasn’t much, but it was enough to soothe her racing heart. A tiny ring of her sight was quickly restored and a little tension sunk out of her shoulders. However, common sense kicked in a second later and she turned to examining her surroundings. She mentally plotted as much of the visible area-- mostly a sea of blood as far as she could tell (which was, admittedly, not very far, but still stomach turning), but occasionally interrupted by a stray tree or large piece of stone-- as she could, then, holding her breath like that would help at all, let the flame flicker out so the butane gas wouldn’t run out.

Blind once more but at least slightly more aware of the environment around her, Becca debated on her options.

  1. A) Wander. Her memories of the moments before the fall were hazy, but she was sure that Ed and Ling, at least, had been swallowed as well. Logically, they should have ended up here, wherever “here” was. If she started moving, eventually, they should run into each other, right? It wasn’t like the space was infinite-- that would be impossible.
  2. B) Stay put. Louisa had drilled that into her when they used to go to the market together. If you get lost, you are to stay where you are and wait for me to find you. If Ling and Ed were in the vicinity, there was always the possibility that moving would only spread them out more. But this wasn’t the friendly town market when she was six years old. This was a hostile, unknown environment, and if her friends were thinking along the same lines-

Before she could start to overthink and spiral, Becca heard two people splashing through the blood behind her, swearing up a storm. She didn’t consider herself a lucky person by and by, but when she whirled around and spotted a larger light source illuminating two figures in the distance, she couldn’t stop a thrill from leaping in her chest, nor her feet from moving on their own towards the torch, though she didn’t call out yet and she was sure to grab the gun that had fallen from her hand to the floor of the car before stepping away from it.

She couldn’t imagine she cut a very imposing figure, stumbling and tripping over herself as she tried to wade through the thick blood and the dull pain reemerging as the adrenaline and fear that had temporarily banished her headache wore off, but she kept on, raising the gun as she got within range. She felt a little guilty at first and almost lowered it once she could see their faces; less so when Ed did the same with the blade on his arm, a similar pained expression on his face.

“What time did you show up at my hotel room the first time we actually talked, after you got out of the hospital?” Ed demanded, voice raspy.

“Six,” Becca replied, “am. What did I tell you baby’s breath meant when you got it for my birthday?”

Even as she spoke, she cringed. It felt wrong, bringing up these personal, pivotal moments of their friendship just for their own safety, but when they were dealing with a being like Envy who they now knew could change their appearance at will, they had to take every precaution. If she wanted to be extra pessimistic, for all she knew, Envy could multiply themself at will. Maybe neither of the people coming towards her were who they seemed. If using information only the two of them would know was the only way to prove their identities, then so be it.

At least Ed cracked a weak smile at her question, then answered, “Sincerity and trust, because I sincerely adore you and trust you deeply or something like that.”

Becca chuckled, but kept her weapon pointed up even as Ed dropped his, jutting her chin towards Ling.

Ed waved her concern off. “He’s good. Threatened to recite the entire hotel room service menu.”

“Good,” Becca said. As soon as she relaxed, her knees buckled and she was on all fours, face to face with the blood on the ground before she could blink.

“Bex!” Ed yelped, by her side at once. 

Mismatched hands came under her arms and hoisted her back to her feet, and she twisted slightly, fighting against his hold and muttering, “No, ‘m fine, ‘m sorry-” as Ed’s face floated in and out of her vision. As his manner shifted from alarm to concern, though, and his grip didn’t let up, she slowly sagged back down, resting her head on his shoulder and letting out a shaky breath.

“You’re not fine, Becca,” Ed mumbled against her hair, wrapping her in his arms, one around her waist and the other around one shoulder. Cool fingers brushed the hairs that had escaped her bun away from the nape of her neck and pressed against the knot that had formed there. “God, why didn’t you leave? You’re sick . I shouldn’t have let you-”

Becca didn’t say anything. There wasn’t much she could say. Ed was probably right and she shouldn’t have stayed. But what was she supposed to do? Just run away with Mustang because of a little migraine? He couldn’t have possibly expected that of her!

She only allowed a few more moments of coddling before she heaved herself up, rubbing at her eyes.

“It’s too late for what you should or shouldn’t have done,” Ling said somberly. “We need to figure out where we are, and how we can get back.”

“Ling’s right,” Becca said. “I don’t suppose you guys have found anything substantial while you’ve been wandering?”

“Other than this,” Ling said, brandishing the torch, “there’s been some of Mustang’s flames here and there, and we saw the part of the house that Gluttony ate a little while back.”

“More importantly,” Ed confessed, guilt lacing his tone. “We haven’t found any sort of door. Or wall. Or any end to this darkness whatsoever.”

“We really did get… swallowed?” Becca asked, making a face. “So what is all this? It couldn’t be-”

Cringing in sympathy, Ed confirmed, “It’s Gluttony’s stomach. It’s the only option that makes sense. Everything he swallowed is here… and everyone.” He raised his arm, pointing to a spot just beyond the range of the torch where a horribly human-looking rib cage had gotten stuck on a stray rock Becca hadn’t noticed in her panic. 

When it was pointed out to her, though, she only had the capacity to wince, shake her head, and turn away, misery painted all over her face. 

“Maybe we just haven’t found the edge,” Ed suggested hopefully. “We should keep walking-” He cut himself off and surveyed Becca up and down, face falling a little.

Some of the frustration from earlier reared its ugly head and Becca rolled her eyes, remarking, “Quit it. I hate it when you do that.”

“I was just going to say that we could give you a few more minutes to recover!” he fired back.

“Let’s just keep moving,” Becca said, huffing and setting off in a new direction. “None of us have seen Envy anywhere, right? That means they’re still out there. They’re Gluttony’s ally, what if they know how to get out of here?”

“Yeah, they seem like exactly who I want to ask for help right now,” Ling muttered.

“No one said we’d be asking.”

She could practically sense Ed and Ling exchanging uneasy glances behind her, the tail end of which she caught when she turned around with the intent to voice her impatience, though the words died in her throat when they both turned to her, apprehensive. Instead of snapping, she softly said, “Come on, it’s not helping anything to just sit here.”

“Ah! Look!” Ed shouted. The noise cut through Becca’s headache to rattle her brain and she winced, but still stomped it down and looked over to where he was pointing, a large stone outcropping, much like the many other stone outcroppings they’d passed in the last half hour or so of walking. 

Still, as she called for him to “Please, be careful, we don’t have any medical supplies in here!”, he scrabbled up the roughened marble, onto a pillar, and teetered over the edge, reaching for something glinting and hanging a few feet out on a long-dead branch. When he drew back, though, he was clutching a familiar metal gauntlet.

“Look!” he said again, shaking it insistently.

“Is that…?” Becca started.
“Al’s hand?” Ling finished.

“It’s cut clean off,” Ed said. “Which means the rest of his body isn’t here.” He looked up with a small smile, relief clear in his features. “He’s safe for now.”

“So it’s just us three and Envy in here,” Ling said.

“And Al must be freaking out,” Ed said, his brow furrowing.

“If only we had a way to contact him,” Becca mused. “Tell him we’re alive and he needs to focus on opening the door to this place from the other side instead of worrying himself sick.”

Ed hummed thoughtfully, staring down at the gauntlet in his hand. “Maybe…” He raised the metal up above his head and Becca wondered if he was going to look inside it on the off chance there would be something that could help them in there.

Instead, he started waving the hand around, shrieking. “Conveniently awaken, Elric brother telepathy! Telepathic powers activate within me!”

Becca’s hands flew up to cover her ears against the racket. Despite having very little to bounce off of, the sound still echoed, and it felt like every stimulus around her was amplified to the max, be that from the uncomfortable emptiness of surroundings or her current condition.

“Yeah, I’m going to keep looking for a way out,” she heard Ling say before trudging on.

“Ed, can we maybe keep the volume to a minimum?” Becca asked, her own voice slightly raised, when he took a breath.

At her request, he ceased at once, hopping off the stone ledge and hurrying towards her. “Sorry, Bex,” he said guiltily. “How are you feeling? Should we rest for a few minutes?”

A voice that sounded suspiciously like her father’s rang through her mind. Weak. You’ll drag your partners down if you keep acting like that. You think your team will accept this behavior? These excuses?

She shook her head, trying to clear it. “I’ll live. We should keep going. Ling might leave us behind.”

They caught up to the prince, who had actually paused to wait for them, then their trio continued to walk in silence until Becca herself broke it.

“I keep trying to tell myself that it’s like walking at night,” she observed quietly, “but I can’t. There’s no stars.”

“And down here, all these buildings seem to be from different time periods,” Ling noted. “Gluttony must have been doing this for a long time…”

“Time and space might not have a meaning, but we’re still going to get out of here,” Ed said determinedly, veering away from them and towards a broken tree. “Come on. If we can’t find an exit, then we’ll make one.”

“If nothing else, we know there’s a floor,” Ed said, handing Al’s hand over to Becca and getting down on his hands and knees,  clapping once, thrusting up to his elbows into the sea of blood, and closing his eyes against a flash of bright, alchemical light as a circular wall slowly molded out of the depths. He stood back up, the front and sleeves of his dark shirt were stained with gore and Becca resisted the urge to try and cover it up. Still, she had to force herself not to look away from the darkness marring the fabric. This situation was already awful, but she knew ignoring it now would only make it worse when it inevitably got more disgusting.

Ed stepped over the low wall, stomping on the muddy red ground, which began to crumble beneath his feet. “It’s not even dirt,” he observed, crouching to pinch some of the ruddy dust between his fingers. “It’s like clotted blood.”

“That’s really interesting, but maybe come back over here,” Becca said quietly, gaze stuck to the cracks spreading over the one piece of solid ground within eyesight. “Please.”

He met her eyes once more, then smiled guiltily, clambered back into the larger sea, and took her hand within his flesh one, tracing circles into the base of her thumb. “Let’s try and get out of here. You trust me?”

Becca nodded, squeezing in return.

Retracting his hand and clapping once more, Ed transmuted the blood again. Becca felt the mass shift from filling the carved out space to packed to its side, exposing a deep hole.

“Here.” He snapped another tree branch off, lit the end from the torch they’d been using, and tossed it into the newly formed hole.

“Oh, I see,” Ling said, leaning over the ledge and watching the flame fade as it fell. Becca, for her part, kept a little further back, but she could hear the telltale thudding of the stick hitting the wall quieting down, though there was never any clatter of the makeshift torch hitting the ground.

Her stomach dropped.

Ling and Ed’s wide-eyed faces turning over their shoulders to her weren’t reassuring.

“You didn’t hear it hit the ground either, did you?” Ling said to the air around them.

Both of the other teens shook their heads.

Ed leapt away from the hole like the wall he’d created like it had burned him. “Come on!” he said loudly, waving them away from the ledge frantically. “There’s a wall somewhere! There has to be a wall!”

---

“How long have we been walking for?” Ling whined as they dragged their feet through every step.

“How would I know?” Ed replied, rolling his eyes.

“Don’t both of you have to have watches, like, all the time?”

“Oh, you think we haven’t thought of that? They aren’t working-”

All of a sudden, Ling stopped in his tracks. Frankly, it took a few moments for Ed and Becca, each lost in their own thoughts, to even notice. By the time they had, however, the prince had crossed his arms over his stomach and sank to his knees, reminiscent of a toddler in a grocery store.

“Don’t do this, Ling,” Becca groaned.

“I’m starving...” he complained. “I can’t go on any more…”

“You’re giving up?” Ed demanded, stomping back towards him. “That’s pathetic! Bex is still good to go and she’s-”

“Edward, if you say sick-”
“I’m too hungry…!”

“Get a hold of yourself and don’t give in to your damn stomach!”

“Just… keep going,” Ling whispered weakly, gesturing them forward with a flippant wave of one hand.

“What?”

“Go on without me,” he mumbled. “Don’t worry… save yourselves…”

“Seriously?” Ed said harshly. “You know what, fine!”

He turned on his heel, grabbed Becca as he passed her, and continued on the same path they’d been going on, shouting over his shoulder, “ Bex and I are not gonna die like this!”

“Are you really gonna leave him?” Becca asked under her breath as he tugged her away.

“Come on, he’s not actually going to let us go. All this work for his country and he’s going to give up because he’s a little hungry? No way,” he replied, then called, “We’re really leaving!”

No response from the prince.

“I’m serious, Ling!”

Another silence.

“We’re gonna leave you in here!”

“Ed, I don’t think-”

“Yeah, he’s not gonna come by himself,” Ed huffed, whirling back around. He splashed through the blood, got a good grip on Ling’s jacket, and, before Becca could react, hoisted the prince fully up onto his shoulder in a fireman’s carry.

“God, Ed!” she yelped, stumbling backwards and taking the torch from him before it scorched Ling’s leg. “Be careful! You could hurt yourself, you’re not in the best shape either-”

“I’m fine,” Ed ground out. “All of us have people waiting for us,” Ed said through grit teeth, “all of us! And I’m done letting people down! So none of us are dying in here, you hear me, you lousy prince? Huh? Is this how you want to represent your people? How you would want them to see you?”

“Listen, the enthusiasm is great, but how about you put Ling down and let me help you with him,” Becca suggested gently, flitting around the two boys. Arms reached forward, trying to take some of Ling’s weight, though Ed kept dodging out of the way.

As for Ling, speaking mostly into Ed’s back, he asked, “I thought you were leaving without me?”

“If you have the strength to talk, then you have the strength to walk, asshole, so hop to it!”

Then Ed himself promptly fell face first into the blood.

“Dammit, you two,” Becca sighed as both boys sputtered and spat the liquid out. She grabbed Ling first, since Ed had mostly been able to sit back up by himself, under his arms and pulled, dragging him over to a slab of marble rutting out of the depths, then went back and hauled him up too, though she got him to his feet and helped him to the resting point despite his insistence that he didn’t need help. Then she flopped onto the surface, finally letting herself relax, if only for a minute, and pressed her head into the stone. The fact that it was slightly cooler than most of the air around it was a minor comfort, but a comfort nonetheless.

“Slogging through shit is making this even more tiring,” Ed panted.

“If we can’t find food, then this death march is just going to be over quicker,” Ling added solemnly. “And I’m practically starving already…”

“So you’ve said,” Ed said, audibly annoyed again. He groaned, sitting up and casting his gaze over their group, all splayed limbs and weakened bodies. “We do need to find food and water, though. Soon.”

“We can probably deconstruct some of this,” Becca said, face still smushed into the ground but waving indefinitely at their surroundings, “for some water, but what are we supposed to eat?”

Ed went quiet but for some considerate humming, and Becca could practically see the gears in his head turning, but she still had to do a double take when he held up his boot and asked, “Leather goods are edible, aren’t they?”

“What?” Ling said, perking up.

Becca, on the other hand, only sighed heavily. “Ed, I’m not eating your shoe.” She rolled over onto her back, flexing her neck in an attempt to stretch it and relieve some tension. “I’m not that hungry.”

Concern written all over his expression, Ed leaned over her. Vaguely, Becca appraised how his golden hair hovered around his face formed a sort of halo, the entire image softened by the low light of the flames flickering around them. She let out a long, slow breath, gave a long, slow blink, and rubbed uncomfortably at her head.

“Please, Bex?” Ed said quietly. “You know you need to eat something.”

And there it was.

God, why was he coddling her? She had brought this all on herself in the first place, and she could- no, she had to handle the consequences, just like every other damn thing in her life!

Becca scowled, covering her eyes. “Listen, I know I’m pretty useless right now, but you don’t need to baby me.”

“Becca, that is not what I’m trying to say and you know it,” Ed said. 

She could hear the exasperation in his voice, but she couldn’t stop herself. The compounding pain, the continuous stress, and the constant frustration- not even at him, just at the situation they’d gotten themselves into once again- all exacerbated the annoyance that she normally would have been able to push down and ignore, and she lashed out. “I don’t need you to protect me! I’ve been taking care of this problem just fine on my own, thank you!”

However, it seemed she wasn’t the only one who was more irritated than usual. Rather than shirking away from her, Ed exasperatedly said, “No, you haven’t! You haven’t been taking care of it! You haven’t been taking care of yourself in the slightest! I don’t know if you’re lying to me on purpose or just lying to yourself, but whatever it is, you need to knock it off, loosen up on your reputation a little, and accept some damn help before you end up seriously hurt!”

Taken a bit aback, Becca blinked. She opened her mouth, then closed it. Ed’s mouth shut as well, and a hint of regret bloomed on his face and he seemed like he might apologize before Becca squeaked out, “But I- I can’t just… sit around whenever this happens. Then I’d be-”

“-Useless,” Ed finished, his tone a little gentler. “I know. That’s what you said last time too. In Central Library. And what did I say?”

“That resting when you’re sick isn’t useless,” Becca responded, looking down at her lap. “And I did.”

“And you need to do it again,” he said. Heaving a sigh, he ran a hand through his hair. “I just- I don’t understand why you do this to yourself. I get that you can’t exactly sleep it off right now, but you could have stayed with Lan Fan, or gone with the Colonel or- or even just admitted to me that you’re in pain and you need some help while we’re in here! And it worries me that you still feel like you can’t talk to me after everything we’ve been through, even though I’ve only ever tried to help you!”

Somewhere during his speech, Becca’s hand had drifted up to fiddle with with charm of her necklace, and when he finished, her fingers clenched around it. Voice tinged with desperation, he went to grab her hand, only to freeze when he saw where it had come to rest over her chest.

His eyes flickered to her father’s symbol, then back up to her face. “Oh.”

“I’m sorry,” she said weakly. “I- I want to be better- I’m trying to be better. I thought I was getting better in Central-”

“You were,” Ed said. “I had to trick you a little, but you did take a nap and you said it helped.”

Becca pressed her thumbs into her temples and closed her eyes against a throb of pain. “But today, I- I swear I heard him. I don’t know if it was the stress or what, but I just remembered, or- or I don’t even know if it was a memory or what- but I could hear him, calling me weak and saying I was making excuses and it just… got to me.” She rubbed circles into her head, exhaustion suddenly rearing its ugly head. “I am sorry for everything today, Ed. I should have stayed behind.”

“I don’t know about that,” Ed said, scooting a little closer. He knocked their shoulders together like this was a normal conversation for them to be having. “The bastard probably would have just made you feel worse.”

“You two,” she chuckled, leaning over to rest her head on him, then hummed, “I really am-”

“If you say ‘sorry’ again, I’m gonna shove this boot down your throat before I cook it.”

“-glad, then,” Becca switched tactics in the middle of her sentence. “I am glad that you’ve got my back and you try to take care of me, even when I make it difficult.”

“You’re alright,” Ed said. “Next time this happens, though… please let us help you before you get to this-” He gestured at her up and down and continued, “-headspace. It makes you act all ruthless and that’s not you.”

Isn’t it? she found herself wondering as she half-heartedly nodded into Ed’s neck. She’d caused all this trouble, not to mention how she’d repeatedly shut down any attempts to help her-

And ruthless? Well, she supposed-

“Bex, I can hear you thinking from here,” he noted.

“And not to say that this hasn’t been heartwarming,” Ling said, speaking for the first time in a while. Becca and Ed both started and turned to stare at him, then down at the fire he’d apparently constructed while they’d talked. Heedless of their surprise, he went on, deadpan. “Because it has, believe me, but, as I feel like I’ve said far too many times, I’m starved. Come on, Ed, hand it over.”

“Alright, alright, but we don’t have a pot or anything-”

“Are you an alchemist or aren’t you? Make one!” Ling barked. “Or don’t, for all I care! I’ll eat it raw at this point!”

---

Luckily, Ling did let them-- or Ed, rather-- transmute a pot, as well as some more water, both from the blood around them in order to soften the leather. Becca finally let herself doze against a protruding bit of the rock, feeling like any more expended energy might be the end of it for her while Ling continued to complain until there was food in his mouth, and then complained some more.

“You don’t have athlete’s foot, do you?” he asked as the boot cooked.

“My foot is made of metal, moron,” Ed snarked.

“I can’t believe I’ll have to mark you down in the history of Xing as ‘the man who fed a shoe to the emperor’,” he grouched while Ed used the blade on his arm to cut the soft leather and handed it out to them.

“Oh, wow, I’ll be in the Xingese history books?” Ed shot back, exaggerating eagerness. “Thank you, your Imperial Highness! Make sure to add in that I saved your life while you’re at it.”

That gave Ling a moment of pause. He hesitated, then let out a breath and said, “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Becca asked, picking up the piece of tender leather she’d been slowly gnawing her way through and scooting over to the boys.

“You two are trapped in here because you tried to save me,” Ling explained. If Becca wasn’t mistaken, she thought she could sense a little bit of guilt dripping into his tone. It seemed she wasn’t the only one feeling particularly down on herself today.

Well, that simply wouldn’t do.

“Hey, it’s not a big deal,” Becca said, shrugging. “We made the choice ourselves, and we’re all healthy-”

Both of them gave her disapproving looks and she appealed, “Healthy enough to keep looking for a way out. Basically, it sucks that we don’t know where we are, but we could be a lot worse off right now.”

“That’s a change,” Ling said lightly as he ripped another chunk of boot off with his teeth. “You seem optimistic now.”

“Optimistic, stubborn,” Ed said. “One in the same, really. Plus, I can’t help but think of what Al would say if we even thought about giving up, so I’m not going to be pessimistic.” He took one final bite, got to his feet, and offered Becca a hand. “Alright, are we ready to keep going?”

“Are we just going to keep walking?” Ling asked.

Ed rolled his eyes. “Unless you have a better plan.”

Ling opened his mouth, about to retort, but froze, then haltingly twisted in place, back and forth, casting his disturbingly perceptive gaze all over their surroundings. “Um… guys?”

“Hm?” Becca prompted, raising an eyebrow.

“Something’s coming. It’s- it feels-”

Becca’s eyes widened. “And we haven’t seen-”

“Ah, I thought I saw a light,” a familiar cocky voice said. “I should have assumed it was you brats.”

Envy stepped into the light of their fire, making all three of them straighten up and looking infuriatingly no worse for wear from whatever their ordeal inside of Gluttony had entailed.

“Hey, you! Help us find the exit!” Ed shouted at once.

Whacking him across the back of the head, Ling barked, “You’d sell out that quickly?!”

“It’s not selling out if it gets us out of here alive!”

“The drive is admirable, but maybe you should amend your methods a little when we’re working with them !”

“Being human is all about survival, Ling-”

“Guys, seriously, can we quit the bickering until we figure a way out of here?” Becca said, rubbing her forehead. She lowered her voice while her mouth was hidden by the raised hand. “Envy would benefit just as much, if not more than, us by getting out of here. We might need to team up with them.”

Envy’s face, surprisingly, had fallen when they saw just how little progress they’d made. Before anyone got the chance to argue with Becca, they’d sat back onto a broken pillar, crossed their arms, and announced, “There is no way out.”

“What?!” all three teens said in unison, heads whipping around to gape at the homunculus, though Becca’s mind was sent reeling at the action and she quickly regretted it.

“What a mess,” Envy lamented. “Gluttony was only supposed to swallow you,” they pointed at Ling, then Becca and Ed, “not you two, and certainly not me. I don’t suppose you have guessed where we are already.”

“Gluttony’s stomach?” Ed asked, confused. “Yeah, we all figured that out pretty quickly since we got eaten .”

Becca, however, was quiet, observing everything around them with a more skeptical eye. “This place- it reminds me of something. It feels like I’ve been here before.”

Edward blinked and Becca could practically see him reaching out with the natural sense that all alchemists had honed, not just seeing but truly dissecting the world around them down to the molecules. All at once, his demeanor shifted, obvious enough that Envy recognized it.

“You remember that feeling, don’t you?” they pushed. “How it felt when you came here? Because it’s happened to you before, right?”

“The Gate of Truth,” Ed said slowly. “But that- that can’t be right. The Gate is a whole bunch of nothingness. It’s horrible, but not blood and darkness. Right, Becca?”

She nodded in agreement. Her memories of the transmutation might be a bit hazy, but this was certainly not what she’d experienced that day.

“Huh, so that’s what the real thing looks like,” Envy pondered.

“‘The real thing’?” Becca asked. “If this isn’t real, then what is it?”

“And what is a Gate?” Ling added, looking rather lost in the discussion.

Envy huffed petulantly, like they loathed having to lower themselves to explain the situation to them. “This,” they said, spreading their hands, “is one of Father’s failed experiments. An artificial Gate of Truth, if you will. Even with his considerable power, he couldn’t quite replicate the Gate itself. As a result, he created this inside of Gluttony. A space between reality and Truth. So in other words-”

They turned their cold gaze on Ed. “There’s no exit.”

Onto Ling. “No way to leave.”

Onto Becca, who’s own blood felt like it was slowly freezing in her veins. “No way for any of us to escape.”

Fighting through a suddenly very dry throat to speak, Becca croaked, “So there’s-”

“Nothing to do except wait until our strength gives out and our lives end, just like every other person who Gluttony’s ever swallowed. Just sit around and wait to die,” Envy finished, horribly nonchalant.

For a few seconds, everything was silent but for the crackling of the fire behind them.

“You’re lying! Please, tell me you’re lying!” Ling burst out, voice cracking in an awful, desperate reminder that he was fifteen. Hell, all of them were fifteen goddamn years old! Normal fifteen year olds worried about dating and dances and the next opportunity to dress up and show off to their friends, not this. For a second, Becca wanted to scream, scream to whoever was listening that it wasn’t fair! It wasn’t fair that they were teenagers- no, kids, really, and they had to deal with monsters and murderers and who knows what else, lurking in that darkness beyond the comforting glow of their fire.

When they didn’t, Ed jumped off the slab of rock they’d been standing on and all but ordered, “Say something, Envy!”

Once more, the homunculus stayed silent. And since they didn’t gloat, didn’t crow about having pulled one over on them, hell, didn’t attack them once they’d successfully weakened their morale, the truth-- the one Envy was telling them-- began to sink in.

“There’s no way out,” Ling repeated despairingly. “We really are going to die in here.”

Ed stumbled backwards, collapsing against the rock, and Becca was partway worried he might have slipped into the blood entirely if it wasn’t holding him up. “What about Al?” she heard him whisper to himself as she trampled over to put a hand on his shoulder as he’d done for her earlier, if only to give him something to ground himself with. “If I die, what happens to him? We- we made a promise, I can’t go back on that-”

“Wait a second,” Becca said suddenly, squeezing Ed’s shoulder. “Your whole group, this whole time, you’ve been talking about sacrifices. You need us. Your father, or leader, or whatever he is to you won’t let us go to waste in here, will he? Fuhrer Bradley has the best research alchemists in the country working under him-”

“Bradley?” Envy fired back with an incredulous laugh. “Are you serious? You think that asshole’s our leader?”

“That doesn’t matter!” she exclaimed. “Partner-in-crime, fellow homunculus, frankly, I don’t give a damn what he is to you! But he’s involved in this and he’ll try to get us out once he finds out what’s happened.”

“It’s bad either way,” Ed said, covering his mouth as puzzle pieces slotted into place behind his eyes. “The Fifth Lab, Philosopher’s Stones made out of human lives… if the fuhrer’s involved, it’s likely that everything is. Who’s to say incidents like Liore or Ishval aren’t somehow a part of whatever plan they’ve concocted. Maybe it’s better-”

“Ishval?” 

Envy looked up. A sharp toothed smile slowly spread across their face. “Oh, I loved Ishval! You’d never seen such a perfect civil war! Do you know what started that whole debacle?”

Becca wrinkled her nose. She didn’t expect a history quiz from a psychopath today, but clearly this day was just a whole lot of surprises, so she only nodded  and said, “An Amestrian military officer accidentally shot an Ishvalan child.”

Envy cackled, leaning back on their makeshift chair, their grin going from sharp to uncomfortable. “Almost!” they said gleefully. “But it was no accident! It was actually yours truly who shot that child!”

Becca’s heart dropped to her stomach. She felt like she was going to be sick, and not from the shoe. Or her headache. A look around showed similar horror dawning on her companions’ faces, and it was clear that their reactions only encouraged Envy, who giggled even more and proudly declared, “It only took one bullet to spark years of carnage and destruction! How beautiful is that? You humans are so easy to manipulate, I felt like I was playing with dolls!”

However, as they went on, horror turned to revulsion and disgust. Hatred towards the homunculus roiled in Becca’s gut, increasing with every word out of their mouth.

“And- and! I didn’t just disguise myself as some Joe-schmoe off the streets!” they revealed, pride dripping from each syllable. “I took the form of a real soldier, a moderate who was opposed to the occupation but still stationed in Ishval! That guy faced court-martialing for what I did, and he couldn’t even come up with an alibi, so he was dishonorably discharged! I was able to do as Father asked of me and cause some additional chaos, all in one fell swoop! What is it you humans say?”

They leered mockingly at Becca, the only one who was still looking them in the eye, too paralyzed to do anything else. “Killing two birds with one stone!”

Bursting into delirious laughter once more, the homunculus was too busy reliving what was apparently their greatest fantasy fulfilled to notice when Ed got back up. Becca wasn’t though, and decided to back off a few steps, closer to Ling, who rested his hand in between her shoulder blades as a reassurance.

“So it was you,” Ed said, drawing Envy’s attention to him as he stepped forward. Each step was accentuated by a pointed statement. “You killed an innocent child, and so many innocent people, on both sides. You caused a civil war. You destroyed the East, my home. You turned the Ishvalans into refugees and criminals. You caused Scar to start killing people. You started the entire war that killed my friends’ parents-- it was all you!”

Envy was still smiling far too sweetly when he drew close to them and pulled back his fist. Becca almost called out for him to stop when Envy didn’t react, but before she could, he shouted, “You’re to blame!” and lashed out, aiming a punch with his automail hand right towards Envy’s head.

The material of the skin shifted, almost like Greed’s had, and Envy didn’t flinch.

“So you want to fight, pipsqueak?” they said, standing up to their full height. Red lightning crackled around them as they grabbed Ed’s arm and twisted, making him cry out in pain. They tossed him aside, then strode towards him. “Well,” they said, their voice becoming even more grating and inhuman as they walked. Becca winced against it. “We’re going to die in here anyways.”

Were they growing?

“So I might as well give you a parting gift before we go.”

Oh, they were definitely growing. Their skin morphed and stretched grotesquely and their height only increased, though Becca couldn’t see their face. “Ed…” she called out, eyes widening. “Get back, please!”

Ed tried to obey, struggling to his feet, but she knew he was still injured from all the fighting in the last twenty-four hours, and tired, and most likely still fighting back hunger. She tried to step forward, to give aid, but Ling cast an arm across her chest before she could, stopping her in her tracks. “Hey!”

“When we were fighting in the forest,” he said out of the corner of his mouth, “did you happen to look down at their feet?”

“Mm-mm,” she said, fear rising once again in her chest.

“It was all sunken in,” Ling informed her. “And when I fought them in the city, they broke an iron fence just by landing on it.”

“So they’re way heavier than they look,” Becca said as the homunculus’ form continued to expand, stretching above them and forcing her to crane her neck to spot them against the inky blackness above them.

“Pretty much.”

As it turned out, ‘heavy’ would be an understatement. As they watched, Envy kept getting taller and wider, their terror only increasing with them. Watching Envy transform had always been unsightly, to say the least, but this time, when they were finally, apparently, at their full form, the shape displayed against the darkness didn’t resemble anything remotely human.

And from the gigantic smirk displayed prominently on their shiny teeth, it seemed as though they liked it that way.

“How is that thing an artificial human?” Ling said into the air. “There’s nothing ‘human’ about it!”

That was the wrong move, though, since it drew Envy’s attention right back to the two of them. They laughed, the sound eerily similar to Truth’s, as if with multiple voices, and they lunged threateningly in their direction. 

“Get back!” Ed ordered. “They’re gonna pack a punch!”

Becca shrieked and Ling let out a shocked gasp, but it seemed that Envy was just aiming to scare them since they didn’t even come close to them. Instead, they just shook the rock beneath them, which flung the makeshift campfire several meters away and by the wayside of a stray, uprooted tree, sending it up into flames and illuminating the entirety of Envy’s new body.

Becca gagged upon seeing them for what they were.

Their back was covered in greasy black hair, scales, and two rows of sharp spikes, all running down the length of their spine. Their face had lengthened to more of a snout, but the teeth were still terribly humanoid. A prehensile tail and far too many legs were half-hidden in the blood. Worst of all, though, was their chest and main trunk of their body, which were covered in ever-changing, empty eyed faces. Occasionally, one would stretch away from the main body and a ribcage, or an arm, or a leg would emerge with them before they were overtaken by another one making an appearance. In the relative quiet, she could hear them-- pained pleas for freedom, each swallowed by the next.

“Let me out… please…”

“Mother… I want my mother…”

“Please, help us…”

“This… is my true form,” Envy themselves panted, their massive shoulders rising and falling with each word. They sneered at them, the expression going from threatening in their normal form to nearly petrifying in this one. “My true power!”

Their tail swung out from behind them before anyone else could react and slammed into Becca and Ling, scattering them with ease. They didn’t even have time to scream until the limb had already hit them. Becca flew through the air, then hit a pillar, the back of her head banging against it, and slid down, forcing herself to exhale rather than cry out as she went. She didn’t see where Ling had fallen, but she’d be willing to bet he got up faster than she did. While she was still collecting herself, she heard Ling shout, “Ed, run!”, a sword unsheath, and Envy- the real Envy, not one of their many voices- groan in pain.

“Damn you, little prick!” Envy hissed moments before Ling clamored for them to give him their all.

All of a sudden, there were hands on her, a well-known mismatched touch on both her arms, hustling her up. “C’mon, Bex,” Ed said in her ear. “C’mon, let’s get you somewhere safe. Can you make yourself a weapon?”

“I- I don’t think so,” she confided, rubbing her head. “If I try to transmute anything, I think I’ll pass out.”

Ed winced, glancing around them. “Okay. That’s okay, we’ve got lots of iron around us, I can make you something-”

However, Becca reached around him to her pockets, hoping she’d remembered to put it there rather than losing it. When her hand closed around the grip of Hawkeye’s gun, she smirked faintly. “That’s not necessary,” she said, pulling it out and showing it to Ed. “Ling, where’s Ling?”

“He’s fine, he’s going to hold Envy off-”

In the same moment, she glanced over Ed’s shoulder and Ling trapped in Envy’s clutches being swung about like a ragdoll until the homunculus giggled and let go, flinging him towards her and Ed.

“Ed-” she started, trying to warn him, but obviously not fast enough. Ling slammed into them, sending all three of them crashing back into the blood beneath them.

“Ling!” Ed said, lowering Becca down to the ground so he could jump back into the fight. She knew he’d tried to be gentle, but she’d gotten jostled on the landing nonetheless in his hurry. Slipping onto her side, she found herself submerged in seconds.

Oh, she thought vaguely. Submerged. That’s not good.

On instinct, she gasped, blood filling her mouth, but shocking her system enough that she forced herself to sit up. The action, while life saving, shocked her system enough that her senses clocked out.

Her vision blacked out.

Her hearing was muddled.

Even her tastebuds felt like they’d gone numb in favor of the agony screaming through her body.

She wasn’t sure if she made any noise, but when she came to, it didn’t seem like anyone had noticed the temporary lapse. Ed and Ling were crouched mere steps away. However, they were bent together in quiet conversation.

Or maybe they were loud and Becca’s pounding head was just drowning them out. That was hardly out of the realm of possibility.

Ed was frozen and Ling was shaking him as Envy closed in, the faces pushing out of their skin seeming to come at an even faster rate. The main mouth said something that Becca couldn’t make it out through the fog in her head, then one huge hand… paw… thing came down, knocking Ed’s listless form onto another crag of rock.

They opened their mouth, a tongue, made up of more faces, more bodies with arms reaching out, lolling towards his limp body.

That’s really not good, she thought through cotton.

It felt like someone else raised the gun as the smaller arms started grasping at Ed’s clothes. It felt like someone else clicked off the safety as he began to be raised off the ground.

But Becca only felt like herself when she was suddenly thrown back into her body, registering Ed’s figure silhouetted against the roaring fire in the tree behind him coming closer to Envy’s mouth.

It only felt like her when Envy’s jaw snapped shut and she screamed.

It only felt like her when she pulled the trigger.

“Becca!” Ling called, his voice suddenly clear. He’d turned to her, wide-eyed, but Becca’s gaze barely lingered on him. Instead, she tracked the bullet she’d fired towards Envy.

With what could only be described as beginners’ luck and seemingly in slow motion, the bullet lodged in their eye, one of the only places left on their body that seemed to be still entirely theirs. That is, one of the few spots that could hurt them rather than one of the dummy heads. The homunculus yowled, head snapping downwards and mouth opening just wide enough that a blond boy was tossed out.

A blond who was not limp anymore, who, in fact, flipped over himself in order to land on his feet, and barked, “Your breath damn near killed me! You’re lucky I’m still willing to help you after that shit!”

“You help me?” Envy said, too incredulous to attempt eating him again. “What could you possibly do to help me?”

“I think,” Ed said, peering around at all of them. If she didn’t know any better, Becca might have thought a hint of concern and relief overtook his face for the briefest moment when he saw her despite the fact that her arm was still outstretched in a shooting position.

“I think I have a way out of here. But we’ll all need to work together.”

Chapter 38: razbliuto

Notes:

helloooo, my dears!

so hi it's me the bitch who doesn't know how to stick to a schedule.

in my defense... xmas happened (happy late holidays everyone!).

but n e waysssss, we're here now so it's fine, everything's fine, we are all fine. i'm serious this time, i'm going to try and get another one up by next friday to get my damn self back on schedule. plus my school just announced that we're going online for the first two weeks so guess who's probably staying home for a little while longer B). wish me luck with my family lol

razbliuto- the sentimental feeling you have about someone you loved but no longer do

Chapter Text

Becca blinked and Ed was in front of her, warm left hand clasping around hers, peeling each of her fingers off of the handgun until he was gently taking the gun away and pushing her arm down to her side. He moved around to her side so he could place a hand on the small of her back and usher her back towards the slab of rock. He eased her down, hand sliding up until both could rest on her shoulders, and Becca couldn’t even put up the energy to resist, not for lack of trying. Still, she reached up, wordlessly grabbing his hand when he tried to walk away. “Come on, Bex, just sit down,” he urged. “I’m okay.”

“You got eaten,” Becca muttered faintly, “ again . That’s twice in one day!”

Firm fingers pressed into the knots that had formed in Becca’s shoulders and she leaned her head onto Ed’s hand as he pointed out,  “It gave me an idea to get us out of here, though.”

Laughing dryly, Becca closed her eyes and tried to relax as a miniscule amount of tension bled out of her body. “That better not be your new back up plan for the next time we get stuck somewhere.”

“Well, actually…” Ed said, sounding a bit guilty. 

Becca twisted to look up at him. “It isn’t, right?”

“I-” he started, then brushed a strand of hair that had straggled out of her bun from in front of her eyes and behind her ear. “Never mind.”

“What?”

“Never mind,” he repeated. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It kinda seems like it does,” Becca said, furrowing her brow.

Ed sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s not important right now. I’ll tell you later. I promise. But for now, I know I’m going to need your help later, so please, sit down. Relax. If not for you, then for all of us so you can help me get us out of here.”

He was distracting her, she knew that. However, they couldn’t afford to argue again while they were trapped in here, so she bit her tongue, made a note to broach that issue when they escaped, and crossed her arms.

“Do we have time for that?” she asked rather than protesting outright.

Ed rolled his eyes, though when he replied, his tone was unmistakably fond. “Somehow, I don’t think taking a quick power nap is going to affect us too much while we’re in here. Plus, there’s a few things that need to be done before we can even attempt a transmutation.Take a break. Knowing you, you’ll be back and running in fifteen minutes.”

“But-”

“Becca,” Ed said firmly, laughing and guiding her interlaced arms to where she could rest her head on them, then pushing her onto her side. “I’m serious. Go to sleep.”

Glaring half-heartedly, Becca turned over, burying her head in her arms until she slowly dozed off.

---

Slowly, Becca drifted back to consciousness. The first thing that registered was how her headache had died down-- not disappeared, but minimized, at the very least. She was still a little fuzzy and her limbs still felt much too heavy to move aside from shifting around to get her blood pumping again.

The second thing was the sound of stone grinding against stone and Envy’s rumbling voice. “That should be the last of the fragments,” they said. “Now are you going to tell us what your plan is?”

“Not yet,” Ed said roughly. “Bex isn’t ready yet.”

“Ugh,” they scoffed. “Just because your little girlfriend needs to feel validated-”

Becca scrunched her face up, still hidden away in her folded arms.

“I wasn’t just trying to make her feel better when I said I needed her help,” Ed said, irritated. “Shockingly, with everything we’ve been doing in the last two days, I’m a little drained. If this plan works, I’ll be expending a lot of energy and if you want me to be able to keep a handle on it, I’ll need an extra set of hands on the reins.”

Finally, Becca was able to stretch, sitting up and rubbing her eyes. “‘M awake,” she muttered. “What did I miss?”

“How are you feeling?” Ed fired back.

“Good enough,” she said, surveying her surroundings. Sure enough, Envy was still in their large form, Ling had made a new torch since they’d lost the original, and Ed’s arm was in a splint.

Wait.

“Oh, my God, are you okay?” she said, standing up quickly. Dizziness sent her stumbling a bit, but once the head rush died down, she shook away the disorientation and staggered towards him. Ed, however, was quick to catch her with his good arm and tug her closer. Still, Becca traced the splintering wood and rough cloth and lamented, “You’re hurt and I’m sleeping-”

“I’m fine,” he assured. “It’s nothing. Just a precaution.”

“Can we hurry this up now? I’ve been dragging this shit around for hours and it’s starting to seem like you were just bluffing about having a plan, Pipsqueak,” Envy said irritatedly.

“Hours?!” Becca squawked, turning back to Ed. “You said you’d wake me up in fifteen minutes!”

“I did not ,” he shot back as he raised his hands in surrender. “I said you’d probably wake up in fifteen minutes-- it’s not my fault you were dead to the world. And, like I said, it’s fine. You wouldn’t have been able to do much anyway. Ling and I have pretty much been sitting around.” 

“Speak for yourself!” Envy snapped.

“I was!”

“Ed!” Ling interrupted the budding argument. “You’ve been muttering to yourself this whole time, do you finally want to share with the group? Where is all this stuff from? Xerxes?”

Taking a deep breath and rolling his shoulders back, Ed nodded, then started to explain. “When I went there to see Lieutenant Ross,” he began, “there was this huge transmutation circle carved into a stone. I told you about it, remember?” he asked Becca, who nodded.

“Well, this is the rest of it,” he said, spreading his arms towards the pile of rocks. 

Originally, she’d assumed they were just scratches and scuffs, but now that she looked closer, Becca could make out clean, curved lines that looked like they’d been inked or possibly even burned into the stone. Squinting, she noticed particular, recognizable symbols, though most of them had been long cracked in half.

“It looks like… Lab 5,” she said slowly, tilting her head to try and force the pieces to align a little better. “But it’s not, is it?”

“No,” Ed confirmed, “it’s not. Envy, the Philosopher’s Stone is made of living human beings, right?”

“The Stone is a high-energy substance created by condensing human souls. Minds and bodies are simply byproducts of the process,” Envy said, large shoulders shrugging.

“I went to Xerxes. I saw the ruins-- the remnants of that,” he said, gesturing to the pile up nearby. “I couldn’t understand how a country with so many technological advances for the time was destroyed in one night, like the legend said it was, especially since there was never anything said about the people themselves emigrating after some massive crisis. So, that doesn’t leave too many options for what could have happened to them.”

The homunculus smirked. “One could assume.”

“Your father turned the entire population of Xerxes into a massive Philosopher’s Stone,” Ed accused lowly. “Didn’t he? He wanted to surpass even God! And he’s using you guys-- you homunculi, all of you-- to do the same to this country!”

Becca’s eyes widened. That couldn’t be- but it all lined up when she pondered more. Their status as “sacrifices”, the blatant disregard for someone like Ling, who would no doubt be leaving Amestris as soon as possible, thus becoming inconsequential at best, a hindrance at worst, the government’s secrecy… She shuddered as one of Envy’s many gazes landed on her, made worse by the fact that it was one of the souls trapped inside of them with empty eye sockets and a gasping mouth reaching straight for her until she backed away a few steps.

Envy, however, merely grinned sweetly, the expression utterly out of place on their animalistic face. “Maybe. But stop beating around the bush. Get on with your plan.”

Albeit with a glare up at them, Ed obeyed. “This circle, however,” he said, “isn’t meant for that. For one, it’s not big enough. Plus, it’s not… formatted correctly for it.”

He crossed the slab of concrete and used his side to shove two cracked pieces together. They didn’t fit perfectly, Becca doubted they even could after who knows how long, but it was clear they’d been one at some point. And the picture they created-

“A lion swallowing the sun,” Becca said, forcing herself out of her shock from their newest revelation. “That’s a symbol for the Philosopher’s Stone… but its presence here would imply that it already existed.”

“Exactly.” Weaving around the pieces, he started pointing out different carvings that would be all over the real circle if it were recreated. “We’ve got the sun for the mind, the moon for the soul, and it’s carved into stone, representing the physical body. That’s a given.”

Becca followed him over, crouching to examine a few stray bits. “And over here, we have earth and air-- physical movement and the life force itself,” she observed. She looked up at Ed expectantly. “I don’t know about you, but the circle I made didn’t have those. This seems more like some sort of circle for transportation.”

“Exactly. You’re brilliant,” Ed said, determination burning in his eyes. “That’s what I was thinking.”

Sitting back on the heels of her hands, Becca prompted, “I’ve never even heard of anything like that. You think it’s possible?”

“Well, that’s the thing. We know human transmutation is taboo, but not impossible .”

Privately, Becca doubted that statement, given that every instance she’d happened across had been a complete and utter failure, even if Ed preferred to look on the bright side and find revelations in said failures like he had in Resembool. Still, Ed was smart, she knew that. He wouldn’t say something blatantly untrue, especially if he had some way to back it up, so she had to at least hear him out. “It’s not?”

“We’ve seen it be successful,” Ed said. “Think. We’ve got an example right here with us.”

An example… Becca thought, frowning and tracing over their companions until she landed on Envy. “You can’t transmute dead humans, but what if-”

“You transmuted a living one?” she and Ed finished together.

Ed’s eyes, steeled with determination, met Becca’s in that intense way he tended to be able to do; the one where it made her feel like he was speaking to her, no matter who else was around; that his focus was on her, and her alone. “What if I transmute all of us, using this transportation circle and my own Gate, and get us out of here?”

“It- it could work,” she said as calculations flew through her mind. “I mean, theoretically? Of course, it would work, but realistically… well, I suppose if you go by the ‘water for water, iron for iron’ logic…”

“Since Gluttony is a fake Gate of Truth, the only way to get out of here might be to open the real one to hop through,” Ed added onto his plan.

“But do you have enough power to transport all of us?” Ling asked, scowling. “I might not be an alchemist, but even I know that big of a transmutation would take energy that you don’t have.”

Ed averted his eyes guiltily. Envy, on the other hand, chuckled in their many voices and growled, “Oh, I see.”

“What?” Becca said, head swivelling between them. “What is it?”

Unhinging their jaw, Envy’s long tongue lolled out uncomfortably far, exposing their mouth as souls crawled over each other to escape the bright red light emanating from the back of their throat. “This is what you want, isn’t it?”

The Philosopher’s Stone, Becca realized.

It was right there. After everything they’d done to get it, it was right there . The sheer power radiating from the red stone smaller than her fist sent a shiver down her spine and she fought the urge to step away. A solution to almost all of their problems was just a reach of a hand away. And yet, she knew Ed didn’t want it. He wouldn’t take it because of what they knew was encased within.

She didn’t blame him. How could she?

But that didn’t mean it didn’t make her heart clench seeing it.

“Go on, use it. You need to pay a toll to use the Gate, so use them to take us home,” Envy insisted, stalking towards Ed, who backed up a few paces with wide eyes.

The other souls were moaning and groaning again as the homunculus became more agitated, frail voices calling out for help, mercy, comfort, or relief from the pain.

“Kill me…”

“Someone… anyone…”

“My body…”

As the cries grew louder, Becca was forced to squeeze her eyes shut and cover her ears, shame welling up in her chest, lest she became too overwhelmed once again. Ed’s voice cut through the chaos, measured and calm.

“These people… these are the citizens of Xerxes, aren’t they?”

Becca winced. Ed didn’t sound proud, like he’d figured out a puzzle. He sounded exhausted, not just because of the ordeal they’d been in for the last day or so, but because of everything they’d dealt with only to lead to this decision he’d already realized he’d have to make.

And still, he seemed… melancholy. Sad that that was the conclusion he’d come to. That decision, however tiring it was, hurt his heart. One more impossible choice set to join the long line of those that had already been forced onto him.

If the souls in Envy’s Stone were the former residents of Xerxes, Becca had to wonder: how long had they been there? What, if anything, could they possibly do for them at this point?

“I don’t know why you’re surprised,” Envy taunted, baring their teeth in annoyance. “I heard you guys fought Greed in the south. He’s always difficult so you must have had to rough him up a fair amount. Don’t tell me you haven’t figured out that he was only able to regenerate by using the Stone’s power.”

Ed opened his mouth to say something, but Envy cut him off. “Can it, pipsqueak. I don’t need your pity. The only reason you even view them as people is because your brother exists in the same form and you want to retain his humanity in your own mind. It makes you feel better to think of them that way, but that doesn’t make it true, and thinking so is just a childish notion. It disgusts me to be pitied by someone who thinks like that.”

“That’s not true,” Becca cut in, voice cracking from emotion against her dry throat. “Recognizing that our bodies aren’t what make us human isn’t childish. Our humanity is in our souls-- our persistence, our willingness to do good, the fact that we can express our love for one another.”

“Do you want to get out of here or not?” Envy hissed.

“Of course, I do,” Becca snapped back. “But Ed’s going to be the one to do it, and I won’t have you insulting him when he’s about to save all of our lives.”

The homunculus looked like they were about to bite something bitterly back at her, but she ignored them and turned to Ed. “However,” she said regretfully, “as much as I hate to say it, do you think that … maybe… using the Stone be an… act of mercy of some sort?”

“What- what do you mean?”

“Well… I was thinking.” She ran a hand through her hair, then down her neck, pressing into a knot near her collarbone as she organized her thoughts before speaking. “It’s been centuries for them. Any bodies that they had-- they got left behind when the transmutation happened-- have probably… rotted away by now. That’s what happened to Barry the Chopper’s body, and he was only transmuted a few years ago compared to the Xerxes disaster.” Moving her hand to his shoulder, she murmured, “There’s nothing left for them here, Ed. The most humane thing to do might just be to free them from Envy.”

Meeting her eyes, Ed blinked a few times, considering. “Is that true?” he asked Envy. “They wouldn’t have anywhere to return to?”

“Frankly, they can’t even remember what their bodies looked like,” Envy replied flatly. “The only potential they have left is to be used up as energy. You have to think scientifically about this, Fullmetal, not let your emotions get in the way of the rational option. Isn’t that your job?”

“No,” Becca interrupted again, drawing Ed’s attention back to her, “no. You are perfectly allowed to feel something about this. But take a second to think about all your choices. It’s time to let them move on.”

His face hardened, a familiar stubbornness overtaking his features, and he nodded slowly. “You- you’re right. Ling?”

“Yeah?”

“Go find your sword. Who knows what we’ll come back to?”

“Right.”

“And Ling?”

“Hm?”

“If we don’t make it out,” Ed said, gesturing between him and Becca, “you need to tell people what they’re planning with the country. That they want to use it for something awful.”

“Ed, don’t say that,” Becca said seriously.

“Plus, Amestris isn’t my country,” Ling chuckled. “It’s not like I care what happens to it.”

Ed snarled. “Hey! I’m just trying to take precautions-”

On the other hand, Ling’s attitude immediately grew more genuine. “Is this how you would want your people seeing you? Giving up so easily? Get out of here and tell them yourself!”

Hearing his own words reflected back onto him sobered Ed up significantly. He huffed and puffed and rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue any more and simply shooed Ling off to go retrieve his weapon, then beckoned Becca closer as he crouched down.

Becca didn’t waste time on pleasantries. “What can I do?”

Lucky for her, Ed felt the same urgency. “It’s obvious that neither of us can pull off a transmutation as big as this right now,” he explained, dragging one finger through the puddle of blood nearby so he could begin to sketch a circle to guide him. “But if we combine our efforts, we might be able to pull it off.”

“So you want me to… what, lend you my energy?”

“Basically, yeah. Our bodies are the matrix when we perform individual transmutations, so ideally, if we sync up, it’ll be just like expanding the circle.” He shrugged, pointedly not looking up from his work. “And besides, it would be a lot of energy flowing through me either way, so you won’t be controlling or directing anything, just lessening the burden on me. Like holding half of a barbell but not lifting it up.”

Becca tilted her head, confused. “Wait, you don’t want me transmuting at all?”

Ed took a deep breath, then sat backwards and looked up at her, eyes imploring. “I don’t think the risk is worth the possible gain, no. Who knows what could happen if you tried something this dangerous when you’re not up to it? Sure, I could get a rebound, but you could die just from attempting it, Bex, no rebound necessary. And that scares me a little, so I’d rather you just let the energy pass through you and give me more time to get a handle on it, okay?”

“Technically speaking, I could very well die from being an accessory to transmutation,” Becca said, a feeble joke. “It’s never been attempted before so we don’t know what’ll happen.”

Ed’s eyes widened and Becca raised her hands in surrender, waving them around.

“I’m just kidding, I’m just kidding! It’s a good plan,” she admitted. “Anyway, I don’t really think we have another option, so I’ll do my best. Besides, you better not get yourself killed either, okay?”

Finally, Ed smiled, just a bit. “I’ll do my best too.”

He finished the basic circle, stood up, and dusted off his pants as much as he could, given all the filth that had encrusted the fabric, then cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted, “Ling! Hurry up! We’ve got places to be!”

When they’d all gathered around the circle and Ed had talked himself through the chemical reaction he’d be manufacturing no less than three times, he finally, hesitantly, approached Envy’s side. The homunculus ignored him, but Ed hadn’t gone to them anyway. Instead, he spoke to one of the agonized faces for the few minutes it was visible.

“I have to use you,” he whispered. “I’m sorry… and thank you.”

Becca’s heart flooded with affection for this compassionate, brilliant boy in front of her. She took a few steps forward so she could lay her hand on a small head, one that resembled a young child. “This is the end of it,” she reassured. “You’ll be able to rest soon.”

They shared a sorrowful look, then stepped away.

“It’s time,” Ed declared. “Everybody, out of the way.” Then he extended his arms, preparing to transmute. Becca readied herself as well, placing her hands between his as a sort of resistor in the circuit of alchemy. He clapped his hands over hers and, together, they touched the circle. Becca’s entire palms were pressed into the ground with Ed’s larger hands cupped around them so only his fingertips were in direct contact with it. She felt energy rushing through her and tried to simply let it flow without interference and focus instead on the determined look on his face.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he said, only audible to her and himself. “Did you ever think you’d open the Gate again?”

“Can’t say I did,” she muttered back.

“Hold on, Bex.”

The giant eye opened in the middle of the circle and Ed called out for Ling and Envy to jump in. For a second, Becca was reminded of her father, leaping into their transmutation circle years ago and she almost screamed for them to stop before she was able to remind herself that this wasn’t the same circle. It wouldn’t have the same effect. It couldn’t. She felt herself dissolving and closed her eyes, fully giving herself over to the Gate.

“Here we go.”

Becca gasped, tripping over her feet when she hit the ground without Ed to support her. At first, before she opened her eyes, she thought maybe they’d made it, so she subsequently braced herself for… something. An eruption of sound. The strike of an arm. But it was far too quiet, far too peaceful, and when she slowly opened her eyes, she was surrounded by a landscape of pure white.

“Oh,” she whispered, getting to her feet to see the ginormous stone doors. “Oh, no.”

“Using others for our own gain yet again, are we, alchemist?”

She whipped around and was met with a face she hadn’t seen since that fateful day. 

“Dad,” she couldn’t stop herself from saying, throat dry.

“Not quite,” Truth said cheerily through her father’s mouth.

Forcing herself to swallow thickly, Becca prepared for the wave of fear and guilt that always consumed her up when she had nightmares of this situation, but it never came. Guilt did, but the fear that normally came with her father’s appearance had ebbed.

What replaced it?

She thought it might have been pity.

“No,” she said before she could think too hard about it. “You don’t get to turn this on me.”

Truth tilted their head innocently. “Did I force you to make that transmutation?”

“Their deaths were only prolonged because of your rules,” Becca said. “This was the only way. The best solution to an awful situation. You don’t get to make me feel worse, not like this.”

Honestly, she wasn’t sure if she was talking to Truth or her father. She wasn’t sure how much it mattered. Behind her, she heard the set of doors crack open, but she didn’t look back. It felt important that she keep eye contact with Truth for as long as she could, gray eyes boring into blue. Truth merely smiled, inhumanly wide, and raised a hand in farewell. Long limbs wrapped around her, tiny hands gripping tight. They felt funny, like static electricity dancing across her skin, tugging her back towards the real world, and she didn’t resist.

She wouldn’t stay here, arguing with a ghost. There was work to do.

Subsequently, Becca was subjected to some of the most unpleasant sensations she’d ever been forced to experience in sequence as she reentered her dimension.

The feeling of being reconstructed? Horrible.

The sound of Gluttony retching and convulsing as they got thrown out of him? Disgusting.

The smell (most likely a combination of them and everything else Gluttony was vomiting up)? She didn’t think she had any other words that could describe that than Ew.

She landed on a soft, shifting mass. Envy, her mind supplied, and before she was even fully coherent of it, she was scrambling off of them and out of the way.

The first sound that registered was Al.

“Brother!” he shrieked, mere moments before a large metal arm (sans hand) wrapped around her waist and pulled her out of the pileup. “Becca!”

“Al?” she heard Ed say, then mumble, “And you’re in your armor…”

“Why wouldn’t he-” she started, at least until she was squeezed in and pressed tightly against Al’s chestplate, her shoulder brushing Ed’s, and wheezed out, “Oof! Hey, Alphonse.”

“What happened?!” Al squawked. “Oh, my- where did all this blood come from? Are you hurt?!”

“It’s not our blood, don’t worry,” Ed grunted back, wriggling against the sharp edges. “Just maybe… ouch, Al… broke some bones.”

“We made it,” came Ling’s weary voice from nearby. “We’re back.”

“You’re okay… you’re alive,” Al said in a hushed tone, crushing both Becca and Ed even closer and making both of them yelp. Becca flailed her arm out, hitting his helmet twice until he released her, though his voice was still frail. “Oh, oops, sorry, Becca. How are you feeling?”

“Yeah, Bex, you doing okay?”

“Doing fine,” she said, leaning her head back onto Al, whose chest was heaving with panic under her weight. “You okay, Al?”

“I was- I was so worried!” he whimpered. “Brother, I was so scared-”

Oh… Becca realized, shoulders sinking. Ed paused in his escape attempts, but cast a look behind him in her direction. Even when Ed had gone to Xerxes, Al was first under the impression that he was safe in Resembool, then pretty much filled in that he would be back. The last time they’d been ripped apart had to have been during their transmutation attempt which– God, Al probably didn’t remember those anguishing few moments of loneliness like Ed did.

This had to be the first time they’d been separated that they both could fully comprehend the gravity of the situation in the moment, and, of course, it had to be in such a violent and awful way.

“‘M sorry, Al,” Ed said feebly, reaching up to lay a hand on top of Al's head. “Sorry for making you worry. I know how scary it is to be alone… I’m sorry.” His fingers flexed, gently scratching against his helmet, attempting to soothe skin that wasn’t there, which only made the sight more tragic.

Al hugged Ed to his chest once more, and this time, Ed wrapped his arms as far around Al’s torso as he could and squeezed just as hard, until Al set him back down on his feet.

Almost immediately, Ed went back into business mode, taking in their surroundings for the first time, and Becca shook her head, then followed suit. They were in some sort of room that reminded her vaguely of Father Cornello’s lair in the center of his church, albeit with more metal piping littered around them. It was mainly brick, with a few balconies and walkways above them, and unnaturally clean, lit only by muted lamps hung further up the walls.

“Where are we?” Ling groaned as he got up, rubbing his forehead where a knot had already started to form. “It’s so dark… is it night?”

“Well, this is peculiar,” a male voice hummed. Becca frowned. The voice itched something in her brain. She swore she recognized it, though she couldn’t think of anyone she knew who had any business in a place like this. Everyone’s head snapped to the center of the room, where an out of place looking podium with a chair atop it sat. A dark figure was perched on the throne-like seat, legs crossed and chin resting on a closed fist, a picture of nonchalance despite the disturbing nature of their environment. Ed squinted, taking a few steps closer to the man in the shadows, who stood up leisurely, and said in a silky voice, “I’ve never seen anyone come out of his stomach before.”

The man strode into one of the few pools of light cast by the dim lamps and Becca’s jaw dropped when she put a face to the voice.

Ed and Al both identified him verbally first, though.

“Hohenheim?”
“Dad?”

Chapter 39: arcane

Notes:

hiiiii my dears!

whats this? your bitch is on time for once?

y'all i can't believe it either.

n e ways we got some tea developing here. next chapter will drop some bombs but the babies do get a little bit of a rest, i promise :*

not this time tho <3 love y'all see you soon!

(also i have an idea for another side story that would take place during events during the next chapter so keep a look out for that)

arcane (adjective)- secret, mysterious, understood by only a few

Chapter Text

“Hohenheim?” the man said, cocking his head to the side, pale gold eyes roving over the scene in front of him. He mumbled to himself, “Steel arm and leg… and armor…”

His head snapped back up and he surged forward, making both brothers lurch away from him. Becca stepped forward, but the man didn’t even try to touch the boys, merely demanding, “Are you two the Elric brothers?”

“Um… yes?” Ed said, raising an eyebrow. “So you’re not…?”

“And how do you know Hohenheim? You mean Van Hohenheim, right?” the man fired off. “I didn’t know he was still alive, but I suppose it does make sense…”

“He’s our father-” Al started before getting cut off once again.

“Father? I didn’t know he had children!” the man said delightedly, seizing Ed’s face with both hands and jerking him forward to examine him more effectively. He had a bright smile on his face and didn’t seem to notice as Ed squirmed and grabbed the man’s wrists in an attempt to pull him off and Al and Becca jolted towards them until he finally loosened his grip and stopped pulling on Ed, though he didn’t let go entirely. “But your surname is Elric, no?”

Finally, Ed yanked his head out of the man’s grasp and snarled, “Our parents were never married, and that bastard’s not even on our family register, so we don’t use his damn name!”

The man, once again, hardly reacted to Ed, other than just barely hearing the words coming out of his mouth, and instead stroke his beard contemplatively. “I see, I didn’t realize since you use your mother’s name. So where is he?”

“Like I know!” Ed snapped. The man looked disappointed and turned away, still muttering to himself. Waving his arms frantically, Ed tried to press the man, “Hold on! That’s not the point! What’s going on? Who are you, and why do you look exactly like him ?”

Like was quickly becoming typical, the man didn’t seem to even hear him. Instead, he leaned towards Becca and, eyes wide, questioned, “So that means you’re Rebecca Harper, doesn’t it?”

Wordlessly, she backpedaled at once and nodded once it became clear that the man wouldn’t back off until she answered. Luckily, Ed was there to take the man’s attention back to him.

“Listen to me!” he said irritably.

Becca reached out, fingers just barely able to grip the hem of his shirt, and tugged him backwards as her, Al, and Ling shrunk closer together. She couldn’t shake the icky feeling that surrounded this man. Al was obviously just as uncomfortable as she was and Ling was even moreso.

“Oh, goodness, my manners,” the man said, whipping back around towards their little group. “You two are injured, and you’re missing your left hand!”

That, at the very least, distracted Ed. At once, he was apologizing to Al, the man firmly ignored in favor of expressing regret, then beginning to bicker back and forth, too distracted to notice the man reaching towards them. Becca opened her mouth to warn them, but he moved inhumanly quickly and had a hand on the hollow stump where Al’s gauntlet had been. One bright flash later and the missing appendage had reformed at the end of his arm, and everyone went silent. One look shared with Ed, Al, and Ling only displayed the same shock Becca herself felt emerging through the remnants of her headache.

The man didn’t seem to register their surprise. “How’s that?”

“I- wha-?” Al whispered reverently, staring down at his recreated hand.

“How did you- ouch!” Ed yelped as the man switched his burning attention toward him, then grabbed his injured arm in a tight grip. Ed tried to pull away, hissing, “Ouch, ouch, ouch!”. T

The man didn’t flinch, instead squeezing harder and booting up another transmutation. “Your arm is broken,” he said in an eerily calm tone. “Please sit still.”

Obviously, Ed didn’t obey, but the man simply huffed. Another flash, and the fragile wooden splint clattered to the ground. Ed blinked, flexing his fingers slowly as if he couldn’t believe that they moved so easily. His father’s double, however, didn’t pause to acknowledge him before patting down his sides, mumbling, “Anything else? Other arm? Legs? Head? Chest?”

He poked at Ed’s lower torso, which made him wheeze in pain, and cocked his head. “Ah. Your ribs are injured as well. One moment.”

“Hey, wait a sec-!”

The man transmuted once more and finally stepped away from Ed, who then patted himself down, eyes wide with disbelief as he stared at the robed man, brows furrowed.

Becca exhaled in relief when he finally gave the boys some space, then froze when he turned on her.

“And you?” he prompted when she didn’t say anything on her own.

“Oh, um, no, thank you,” she said, scooting backwards, but bumping into Ling, who flinched aggressively, prior to getting far enough away from the man for her comfort.

She wasn’t sure if she could have gotten far enough, though, especially when the man utilized his apparent superhuman speed to get in her face once more. When he raised his hand, she tried to interfere, grabbing and attempting to push him away by his wrist. But despite her clear resentment of the idea, the man rested his hand on her head, then hummed thoughtfully.

“This is a bit more difficult,” he said solemnly.

Becca only realized what he was going to do only seconds before he did and closed her eyes to brace herself for what she was sure to be an explosion of pain at best or quite possibly her death at worst. What could she say? Scar had instilled a certain fear in her.

Ed and Al both shouted in alarm, but neither could stop the crackling of the transmutation. Becca winced and prepared to bite back a scream of agony that never came. Instead, the best way she could describe the feeling was as if every cold she had ever had rushed into her body, then was immediately drained out of her sinuses in the most satisfying way possible. All at once, she swallowed thickly, her shoulders untensed, and she let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding as all of the pain in her head faded away.

“How did you- how did you do that?” she asked on instinct. “You transmuted without even moving!”

“You three are vital assets,” the man lectured, ignoring her question as well as the suspicious glares Ed had begun sending his way. “You must keep your bodies in good condition. Now, is there anything else?”

“Well, um,” Ed said, hesitantly thumbing over his shoulder so as to not take his eyes off the strange man, “Ling is injured-”

Ling himself, however, let out a sharp burst of derisive laughter. “Like hell I’m letting you come anywhere near me!” he said, leveling his sword at their healer despite the other hand clutching his side. “Not until I know what you are!”

“Ling, please,” Becca said, trying to push down his outstretched arm without alarming him any more. “You don’t have to, but maybe you should consider-”

“He’s not human,” the prince insisted. He shook off her hand, then jabbed his blade at the man again. “What are you? What the hell is going on?”

“Hm,” the man said again, regarding Ling almost… curiously, as if he was an unrecognizable specimen under a microscope. “I think a better question is who are you ? And what are you doing here?”

I am-” Ling started, clearly about to launch into his usual tirade of introductions, but the man just shook his head dismissively and interrupted.

“Never mind. I don’t really care. Gluttony?” he summoned the fat homunculus to his side, gestured to Ling, and said, “You can go ahead and eat him.”

Fear he wasn’t able to stomp down flashed in Ling’s eyes, and Becca couldn’t blame him. They’d just escaped Gluttony’s stomach and the prospect of going back terrified her to her very core.

And she wasn’t even the one being threatened with it!

“Okay!” Gluttony chirped, grinning.

“Hold on!” Becca said as she stepped in front of Ling. “You can’t just- just-”

Ed moved in the same moment, bodying both her and the prince behind him. “He’s our friend! Come on, back off!”

“Guys, get out of my way,” Ling protested. “I’m fine.”

“You’ve been watching our backs since we first teamed up,” Becca said out of the corner of her mouth, trusting that having Ed’s full attention on him would be enough to keep the stranger at bay. “We’ll protect you here.”

“I don’t care that he’s your friend,” the man said, confused. “He’s useless to me. Why should I allow a useless boy to leave my sanctuary? He’ll only bring trouble and he won’t even serve my needs like you do.”

“What are you talking about? Why can’t anyone just say what they mean?” Becca said from over Ed’s shoulder.

“Brother, Becca, Ling,” Al whispered, bending down so all three of them could hear. “When I was traveling with him, Gluttony called this guy ‘Father’. He said he created the homunculi!”

Ed pulled a face. “So he healed us… but he’s also basically the supervillain?”

“Blood relation or not, this guy must be their boss,” Ling growled through gritted teeth. “The homunculi look down on humans and call us fools, and he has the same look in his eye.”

“Fools? I would never call you fools,” the man-- Father, apparently-- said plainly. “Do you look at ants on the ground and think of them as foolish? No, of course not. No matter what they do, their actions are so beneath yours that you don’t particularly care about them one way or another. That’s a better way to sum up how I feel about humans.”

Huh. So that’s where Envy gets the pompousness, Becca said to herself.

Ed snarled, then twitched when Father blinked inquisitively at him. Becca knew he was seconds away from attacking, but still hesitated with Father’s attention fully on him with no chance of a sneak attack.

And so, externally, she snarked, “You know that’s not any better, right?”

Father’s eyes flicked up to meet hers, providing just the chance Ed needed to drop to the floor and transmute a wave of the ground beneath them, headed straight for Father to throw him off his feet and hopefully buy them a few seconds for a head start.

Only, a wall intercepted it before it could even get close and just like when he’d healed them, Becca was sure he transmuted without moving an inch.

“How dare you, you worm?” Envy shouted over the din of cracking stone.

“I don’t care that he healed us, I don’t have to like him!” Ed snapped back. He pointed accusingly at Father, still standing like a serene statue behind Gluttony. “You’re somehow the root of all this evil! I’m gonna finish you off right here, right now!”

“Wait, Ed, we can’t just rush in without a plan!” Ling argued. “It’s too dangerous! Haven’t you ever heard the saying, ‘if you want to shoot the general, first shoot the horse’?”

“There’s no time for plans !” Ed spat, gesturing wildly at everything around them, then landing, once again, ultimately on Father. “If you want to shoot the general, just shoot the general!”

“What an idiot,” Ling said under his breath.

“Sadly, I don’t think I can disagree with him,” Al said, just as quietly. “If this takes too long, you might bleed out, and he doesn’t seem too inclined to save your life.”

Furrowing her brow, Becca suggested, “Maybe you should get out of here, Ling. Get medical attention and find some help-”

“No way,” Ling interjected. “It’s already dishonorable to me that the future emperor should have to be consoled by common foreigners, but to run and abandon them? It’s an unthinkable disgrace to my people.” He lifted his sword again and readied himself as much as he was able to for battle.

“Let’s make this quick,” Ed said, spreading his arms enticingly. “I don’t have time to deal with your little sidekicks, old man!”

“Who are you calling a sidekick, you wretch?”

Envy lunged for them and, quick as a whip, they scattered. Initially, Ed grabbed Ling by the arm and dragged him with him, but was forced to let go in order to transmute, offering Ling the perfect opportunity to scramble away on his own, much to Ed’s chagrin.

Still, they had to fight since Envy and Gluttony were both readying to charge. Becca resolved to keep one eye on their still injured friend, but put most of her attention towards feeling out the environment and picturing what she could do with it. She touched her hands together, shifted her weight slightly to ensure that he was a sure target, and transmuted a few pipes near her feet. Gluttony bit one, but even his mouth was only so big (provided it wasn’t the secret one in his stomach, which it wasn't. She double checked that that was closed before the fight really started) and could only stop one of the projectiles. Similar attacks launched from two other points in the massive room. Gluttony just look rather baffled as the pipes he couldn’t stop went straight past him, while every face on Envy’s body grinned from where they were blocking both Elrics.

“You think a little metal can stop me?” they cackled.

“Wasn’t trying to,” Ed said, shrugging and pointing to where all three strikes had converged: wrapping tightly around Father. “He was our target the whole time.”

Concerningly, Father seemed remarkably unconcerned at the whole situation. In fact, he merely let out a disappointed sigh before the entanglement of piping was destroyed from the inside out.

“Dammit!” Ed huffed as Envy pounced toward him again. She knew he was probably going to try and make his way towards Father, but had to tune out the grunts and cries of pain as he battled with Envy in favor of keeping Gluttony busy and away from Ling, who was sprawled out on his stomach, clutching his side and clearly just trying to stay out of the way for the time being. Finally able to use and sustain all her pent up power due to Father’s healing, Becca created a large staff, spinning it around to get used to the weight before using it to catapult over Gluttony’s head, thus pulling away any attention he might have been able to put on Ling.

The consequence, however, was that she did just put herself in between two enemies with Gluttony blocking any exit and Father in the way of her allies. Casting a glance over her shoulder, the old man still hadn’t moved, so Becca opted to attempt to at least stall Gluttony before rounding on him. Luckily, when she transmuted a dome to close around his neck, this time, it held. He squirmed and whined and Becca was sure he’d escape it soon enough, but at least it bought her time to start chipping away at Father.

She ran towards him, the ground falling out from under her as he was already defending himself against strikes from both Ed and Al (as well as haphazard swings from Envy’s tail, who obviously wasn’t worried about hitting their master), but she kept her footing and leaped forward, reaching for his robes to hopefully yank him off balance, although she only managed to brush the fabric with her fingertips before a pillar of stone rose between them and she had to roll aside to avoid being hit. Ed aimed a kick but only struck a wall, Al tried to transmute a hole only for the energy to be dispersed before it could do anything, and Ling had gotten up and staggered over, raising his sword above his head only to be struck with the worst force of all of them, a thick, rough looking pole stabbing sharply up from the ground into his gut, precisely where the bloodstain on his torso stemmed from. He cried out in pain as he was launched away, right into Gluttony’s path as the homunculus finally broke free of Becca’s trap, grabbing him gleefully and promptly sitting on his torso, only serving to make the prince grimace even more.

“This is a waste of time,” Father lamented.

All he did was stomp on his foot, but the tectonic shift that followed knocked them off their feet, although there was no other outer damage that Becca could detect. Something felt… off-kilter, like the Earth had slipped on its axis, but she couldn’t quite determine what the effect was. However, when they got back up and readied again for combat, clapping their hands in unison, it dawned on Becca first what was wrong. She stopped in her tracks upon feeling the lack of energy rushing through her. Ed and Al had already pressed their hands to the ground, but with the same result.

Their alchemy was gone. Across the battlefield, she saw both start to panic and stumbled to her feet to try to get to them. She was only a few strides away until-

Her legs were snatched out from under her at the same moment two gigantic hands came down on Ed and Al, pressing them against the ground in Envy’s secure hold. Becca, on the other hand, found her arms bound tightly at her sides by their prehensile tail.

“You’re done, kids,” they said proudly. “Give it up.”

“Damn you, Envy! And you too, you bearded bastard!” Ed shouted, both hands in a push up position as he tried to escape Envy.

Becca, swinging the entire tail around from how hard she was struggling, did manage to brush her fingers together as she attempted to transmute something. Anything. Each time, nothing happened.

“What did you do? Why isn’t it working?” she heard Al demand.

Envy chuckled lowly, snapping his tail in a manner that Becca was forced to still or risk getting too dizzy to be useful. “You humans are so pitiful. Honestly, you get a little bit of power and you think you rule the world. You really have no idea of what you’re toying around with. You even think that you’re in control, that you’re the one harnessing all that power! I almost feel bad for you!”

After shouting wordlessly in frustration, Ed called, “Envy, you promised to tell us what you were planning if we got you out of Gluttony!”

He had? Becca must have been asleep for that conversation. Personally, she couldn’t have been sure she would have taken that promise.

“What’s that?” Envy said innocently, grinding their hand down on Ed; a clear threat. “I don’t remember promising anything to a couple of insects like you.”

Becca’s face flushed. “You- you liar! We should have left your sorry ass behind!”

“You talk too much, Envy,” Father said, sounding dispirited in the face of his clear victory. “And Gluttony, it’s unacceptable that you let the outsiders infiltrate our home.”

Both homunculi sobered at once, hanging their heads in submission. “Sorry, Father,” they said as one. It was strange, to say the least, to see Envy cowed.

The man didn’t stay downtrodden for long as he glided across the floor towards the fat homunculus. “But perhaps it’s not all bad,” he said deliberately, crouching down and grabbing Ling by the chin, turning his head this way and that. “You’ve got a lot of guts for a human, there’s no doubt. And endurance… speed… agility… I suppose,” he continued, touching his finger to his forehead, “if a resource drops into my lap, I shouldn’t waste it.”

His back was turned to them, so they couldn’t see what was happening, but if the disgusted look on Ling’s face was anything to go by, she wasn’t sure they would want to. When a thick liquid started dripping down his face, though, they could both see and hear the blood-like substance drop into his hand.

“I need a new pawn,” he said, gaze clearly moving between Ling and the coagulating redness in his hand. “And I think you’ll do quite nicely.”

“That- that’s a Philosopher’s Stone!” Al realized first.

“Ah,” Envy said mirthfully. “So that’s your plan?”

“What-?”

“A human-based homunculus,” Envy explained, grinning. “Father is going to put a Philosopher’s Stone directly into your friend’s bloodstream. The spirits of those in the Stone will battle with his. If it goes well, then one of my siblings will be reborn and he gains immense power.” Giant shoulders shrugged carelessly. “And if it doesn’t, then one more pesky human who thinks they can fight against us will be dead. That’s what usually happens.”

Becca couldn’t imagine it. Ling, dead on the floor. She wouldn’t imagine it-- wouldn’t let it happen.

“No,” she whispered. She thrashed against Envy again, getting louder with every jerk. “No, no, no, no!”

“Let us go, Envy!” Al pleaded.

Slamming his hands against the floor again and again to no avail, Ed cursed and swore, cursed and swore, then yelled across the hall, “What the hell did you do? Why can’t we transmute?”

“Please don’t do this!” Becca begged.

Poor Lan Fan, bleeding and exhausted and in pain, all for Ling’s sake, flashed through her mind and she cried out, “He has someone waiting for him! Dammit, Ling, you said her sacrifice wouldn’t be in vain!”

Everything ground to a halt. Ling stopped trying to cringe away from Father’s hand. Both Elrics froze in response. In the sudden stillness, Becca felt a heavy weight in her pocket that she’d forgotten about. While the others, even Envy, had paused, she twisted around, wrenched Hawkeye’s gun out of her coat, and wiggled her arm out of Envy’s grip. Cocking it, she point it at Gluttony. At Father. At Gluttony. At Father.

She settled on just drifting it between the two.

“Ling,” she said firmly. “Get ready to-”

“Don’t shoot,” Ling cut her off.

“-Run when I- what?”

“I said,” the prince said calmly. “Don’t shoot. This is exactly what I want, isn’t it? Don’t interfere!”

“Ling, you don’t understand-” Ed started to protest.

“Understand?! I understand perfectly! I need a Philosopher’s Stone and this guy’s just gonna give me one! What better way to make sure Lan Fan’s injury isn’t for nothing?!”

“How about getting back to her alive and well?” Ed snapped.

“Do you truly desire this?” Father said, surveying Ling with a more critical eye than before. “Hm. Perhaps you are an interesting child despite your insolence.”

Then he let the Stone trickle from his hand into an open cut on Ling’s face.

As soon as the Stone hit the open wound, it began to bubble and hiss. Instead of going away, the bubbling spread under Ling’s skin as it merged with his blood. For a moment, he managed to grit back the pain, even as it made him convulse and writhe.

“Ling!”

“Stop!”

“Leave him alone!”

“Sh-shut up!” Ling ground out. “You j-just wait! These fuckers don’t know who they’re messing with! I’m Ling Yao, the future emperor of Xi-”

He couldn’t finish his sentence before he started to scream. They were ugly and guttural, sounding like they’d been ripped out of his chest. Unwilling tears welled up in Becca’s eyes as Ling contorted in an almost demonic way, shrieking and grunting in pain as pure energy hundreds of years in the making coursed through his body, and she couldn’t do anything about it. Angry sobs forced their way through as she kicked and pushed against Envy, begging for them to put her down. She heard similar agonized cries of sympathy below her, but couldn’t tear her eyes away from Ling to look at the brothers. It was grotesque. It was unearthly. It was ghastly, watching Ling try to wrestle with a monster only he could see.

All of a sudden, it was over. Ling arched his back one final time, and, as they all looked on with baited breath. Had it worked? Was Ling still… Ling?

And if not, then who was he?

He coughed. His shoulders curled inwards as a coughing fit overtook his body, which eventually turned into laughter, then a deep voice grumbling, “Ouch.”

“Ling…?” Ed asked quietly.

“Who?” the voice, now clearly not Ling, asked as he uncurled from himself. He got to his feet, swaying a bit as he got his bearings, Becca whimpered in horror. While he still looked like Ling, he didn’t stand the same way. He didn’t quite feel the same way. Most certainly, he didn’t speak the same way. A cloth bandage wrapped around Ling’s hand fell away, revealing an ouroboros tattoo in a familiar location. “Oh, you must be talking about the guy who used to have this body.”

“Greed,” Becca whispered. “He’s Greed.”

The newborn homunculus stretched, back popping in several places. “Ooh, that feels good.” He turned to Father, smirking. “Thanks, Pops! It’s good to be back!”

---

If you went off the homunculi’s reactions, Becca thought bitterly, you’d think a new homunculus got created every fucking third Tuesday of the month. Envy and Greed exchanged jabs while Gluttony just introduced himself and his monstrous sibling, congratulating Greed on his new body.

Becca barely heard any of it, still reeling. She snapped back to herself, however, when Greed knelt before Father to offer a more genuine appreciation for his new life. There was something just wrong about seeing Ling, as proud and sometimes arrogant as he was, bowing down to someone else. So fundamentally wrong that it forced Becca to shake her head and shake herself out of her funk. Ling wouldn’t have given up everything for nothing. He had to have had a plan. They just had to figure out what it was.

“Greed?” Ed said, pushing himself up enough that he could get a proper look at the homunculus. “Are you… that Greed?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Greed asked, just on the right side of slimy that Becca couldn’t be sure if he was mocking them or not.

“You don’t remember us?” she clarified.

He smiled, teeth sharp and shielding his now red eyes against the torchlight to get a better look at her. “There was an us?”

“God,” Becca groaned, rolling her eyes. “Well, his personality is the same as last time.”

“Last time?”

Bless his soul, Al tried to explain, “We met you in Dublith in a bar called the Devil’s Nest, when you were working with-”

“Look, I- I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Greed said, confidence wavering as he looked over his shoulder to Father.

“They met the old Greed,” Father explained. “I purged certain… troublesome memories of his before creating you.”

“Oh, I get it.” He turned back to them, eyes flicking between all three. For some reason, Becca still felt as if he was trying to recognize them. “Sorry,” he said as he closed his eyes and, rather strenuously in her opinion, shrugged. “I’m a different Greed than that one. Don’t remember.”

“What did you do to Ling?” Ed pressed.

“Oh, the brat who used to own this body! That’s your friend?”

“Unfortunately,” Ed muttered.

“He was funny! He gave me his body without any struggle!” He moved forward, stepping on Ed’s hand and grinding his foot further down into the stone with each word. “This- body- belongs- to- me- now. Get it?”

Ed spat at his foot. “Ling would never have just surrendered to you so easily! Ling! You see what I just did there? You see the disrespect I showed to you? Come out and yell at me, huh? Answer me, you spoiled prince!”

The large door behind them boomed open, cutting off his tirade. A misshapen shadow toppled through the opening and into the light.

A chimera, bloodied and broken. Specifically, bleeding from an explosive head wound.

“Uh oh,” she said instinctively, connecting the dots. How had Scar managed to find them on top of everything else?

Sure enough, the Ishvalan stepped in just a few seconds later. Slightly more strange, though with how this day had been going, Becca wasn’t sure why she was surprised, he was trailed by a little Xingese girl draped in pink. Neither of them moved other than to survey the landscape and whisper between each other, but everyone else was too taken aback by the newcomers to attack first.

“Scar?”

“And the little girl from before!”

“You guys have met her?” Becca asked.

“Yeah, we thought was the owner of-”

Little feet pitter-pattered across the floor and the girl, who had been clinging rather apprehensively to Scar’s side, broke away from her protector in favor of exclaiming, “Xiao Mei!”

The panda squeaked, jumping into the girl’s arms as she cooed, “I’m so happy you’re safe!”

“Not that this isn’t touching,” Ling- no, Greed- said sarcastically, “but who are these people?”

Evidently seeing a chance to turn the tides in their favor, if only by virtue of numbers, Ed insisted, “Oh, them? They’re- uh- they’re bad news for you guys, trust me!”

Becca looked down to see him staring Scar in the face, gesturing with his head towards the homunculi for him to follow along, and heaved out a heavy sigh. “We’re doomed.”

“Fullmetal Alchemist. How did you get down here?” Scar asked.

Well, if nothing else, Becca could rest assured that Scr was as stony and unhelpful as ever.

Ed gave up on his lying and wilted back to the floor. “You’d never believe it if I told you,” he grumbled dejectedly.

“Fullmetal?” the girl said, sitting up ramrod straight. “The Fullmetal Alchemist is here?”

“Yeah, he’s right there,” Scar said.

“I don’t see him! All I see is some runt !”

She could practically hear Ed’s teeth grinding against each other at that one.

“I’m telling you, that little one-” This time, Ed made a physical sound of pain, “-is the Fullmetal Alchemist!”

The girl tilted her head, scrutinizing Ed from afar while he started struggling to escape Envy once again. Once she’d finished examining him, though, the girl opened her mouth and flat-out wailed in despair.

“How dare you take advantage of a maiden, you tiny deceiver?”

“What did you just call me, micro-girl?!” Ed shouted back.

Al turned to his brother, interrogated, “Brother, what did you do to that poor girl?!”

“What did I do? I didn’t do anything, she’s insane!”

Maybe it was the fact that Ed seemed to be at the end of his rope. Maybe it was the hopelessness of this situation if Scar and this girl didn’t help them escape. Maybe it was every stupid thing that had happened to lead all of them to this point in their lives all compounding on her in that moment. But suddenly, Becca couldn’t fight the urge to laugh.

So she did.

She giggled, maybe a little hysterically, but a giggle all the same, and questioned, “Yeah, Ed, how did you hurt this poor girl?”

“I didn’t !” he insisted fervently.

Becca, however, still couldn’t stop herself from shaking with choked back laughter, wheezed breaths escaping her no matter how hard she tried.

“Quiet, you,” Envy said, then, when she didn’t, flipped her upside down.

Thankfully, that shut her up.

Not so thankfully, even though Father had gotten rid of her headache, having all the blood rush to her head didn’t feel so great either when she was already lightheaded from shortness of breath and the temporary dizziness fuzzed out the next few seconds.

Thankfully (again [sort of]), Envy dropped her.

Before she could quite get herself settled, a human-sized metal hand closed around her wrist and dragged her farther from the homunculus while she blinked rapidly to clear her vision.

“What happened?” she asked Ed.

“I thought you fucking passed out again, but you didn’t, we still can’t transmute, but Scar, that girl, and he can,” Ed filled her in, talking fast and breathing hard. “She tried to attack me for ‘hurting the feelings of an innocent maiden’ and threw knives at me, but he put up a wall so her transmutation, which she can apparently use knives for, only affected the stone, that knocked Envy so he let all of us, and now we’re getting out of the way since we’re all still useless!”

“We’re not useless,” Becca interjected. “We can’t be. Think. There has to be something we can do, something we know that can help-”

“You’re right, I got it,” Ed said, movement grinding to a stop. He reached out and grabbed Al before he passed them and ordered, “Stay close. This might get messy,” then raised his voice. “Hey! Scar!”

The Ishvalan’s emotionless face swiveled to them. Becca tried not to shrink under his heavy gaze, meeting his eyes through her bangs when he scanned her face.

“You wanna know the real truth behind the civil war? The one who fired the first shot-- who killed that innocent Ishvalan child-- was Envy! They disguised themselves as a soldier and shot that kid on purpose, on his orders!” he confessed, pointed finger swinging towards Father. “These bastards wanted the civil war to happen! They were the ones who killed your people!”

“King Bradley was in on it too,” Becca added, just in case the fire that had been lit in Scar’s eyes needed any more fuel. “The one who gave the ultimate order for the State Alchemists to be sent in.”

The righteous anger that had been smoldering for years was aflame.

Scar slammed his fists into the ground, swiftly becoming a force of nature unto himself, destroying Gluttony and parts of Envy again and again with one touch as they kept charging him.

For their part, Ed, Al, and Becca opted to stay out of his way.

“Oh, no!” Al said suddenly, then took off over the uneven ground towards where the little girl and her panda kept appearing and disappearing as the floor cracked, moved, and shifted under them.

Ed’s fingers had loosened, then slid from her wrist to her hand. They tightened again and she could see apprehension in his furrowed brow as he almost called after him, but she soothed, “He can handle it. Let’s go see if we can’t get His Highness to show his true colors.”

“You- you’re right. He wouldn’t have given himself up so easily. He just wouldn’t have. He’s still in there.” Steeling his expression, he turned 180° and strode back towards Greed. “So let’s draw him out.”

They snuck toward Father and Greed, both absorbed in their own conversation that they only caught the end of as they ducked behind a large stray stone.

“-tell me why you aren't helping your siblings with the outsiders?”

“No need to nag, Father,” came Greed’s new smooth, low voice.

The rock they were hiding behind shook and Becca only had time to think Oh, no and share a fearful look with Ed before a crack formed down the middle, splitting the rock in two and revealing the homunculus, the same gray coating from last time covering one hand and an excited grin on his face.

“I’ll start with these two first.”

Becca thanked her lucky stars for Ed. Instead of letting her freeze in fear, he dropped her hand and leaped into action, then proceeded to get carelessly thrown over the homunculus’ head, which immediately prompted Becca to follow suit. Her first instinct was to fall back on the strategy they’d used in Dublith-

-Until she tried to touch her hands together to transmute his Ultimate Shield’s carbon and remembered they still couldn’t perform alchemy .

“Dammit,” she swore under her breath, twisting out of the way of Greed’s fist and firing back with one of her own. She’d lost her staff from before and couldn’t exactly make another, so it seemed like it was going to be a distraction game for her-- Ed at least had his metal arm, which could theoretically do some damage even if it wasn’t converted into a blade, so she had to keep the homunculus’ eyes on her. Scar had drawn Father’s attention to him and Al and the little girl had apparently made their way into the hallway (hopefully to escape and find help, but knowing Al, it was hardly likely he’d leave without them, not so soon after reuniting), trailed by Gluttony and Envy, so it was two on one, but they had no back up. No second line.

“Ooh, that’s a good reaction time,” Greed said mockingly as his shield spread out across his upper body. His fingers sharpened into hard claws, opening his arms invitingly. “I don’t like to fight women, but for such a fun opponent, I’ll make an exception!”

Ed’s automail fist slammed into the back of Greed’s head as Becca simultaneously ducked out of the area where he would have accidentally headbutted her and swung her leg backwards to roundhouse kick his gut. Even with the Ultimate Shield, Greed keeled over, if only because of the force rather than genuine pain. The twin impacts bought them a few seconds, with which they weaved around him, dodging the wayward punches he swung their way, and switched places. This back and forth-- someone landing a hit, whether it be Becca, Ed, or Greed, and the other two combatants fighting around them whilst they recovered-- continued for only a few minutes before Ed began getting impatient.

“You idiot prince!” Ed shouted, clearly trying to provoke Ling to take back his body. “Come back to your senses, you moron!”

Grunting as one of his carbon-covered arms struck the forearm of Ed’s automail, sparks flying at the collision, Greed said, “I already told you, I’m Greed!”

Ed put his other arm behind the automail, pushing harder towards Greed’s face. “I don’t care! Give Ling back his body!”

“I’ll tell you what, that’s the one thing I can’t do, brat!”

Finally by Ed’s side, Becca dodged as Greed managed to push his arm away in her direction, then advanced on him herself, battering away at any uncovered part of him that she could see. “Have you forgotten your country?” she demanded, then winced when Greed grabbed her wrist, twisting under her arm as if dancing to avoid letting him snap the bone when he tried and using the momentum to swing her leg up. She over estimated how far away he was, meaning her leg wrapped around his torso rather than connecting as cleanly as she would have liked, but she adapted and rotated so she was able to tighten her grip around him instead, balanced on one leg but at least forcing him still for a moment. “Have you forgotten Lan Fan?!”

The homunculus froze. Becca could have sworn his eyes flashed with recognition and she paused, whispering under her breath, “Ling? Can you hear me?”

Ed saw Greed move before she did and shouted, intercepting the kick he was aiming at her, but Greed was still able to wrench himself free and wrap an arm around her neck, squeezing threateningly when she struggled. Ed, by getting in the way of the kick, had wound up with Ling’s shoe on his chest, pressing him firmly against the stone floor. Just like Becca, when he thrashed, Greed drove his foot down into Ed’s sternum, the warning clear if he wanted to avoid broken ribs so soon after Father had just healed them.

With what limited mobility she had, Becca could barely see Ed’s face, but what she could see was slightly reassuring; when she barely raised a brow in question, he nodded under the guise of one last escape attempt before grunting in pain as Greed dug his heel in and he went motionless. He’d seen the mere moment of hesitation as well, and that moment was all the confirmation they needed. Ling was inhabiting his body to some degree and he might be able to regain control. It was just a matter of egging to actually do it.

Still, for the time being, it didn’t matter.

This fight was over.

They’d lost.

---

Glancing around, Becca noticed that Gluttony was down, but it didn't matter. Greed moved only enough so Envy could drag them to their feet and hold them in his place, then walked away without a second glance, though Becca thought she saw his clenched fists shaking, unnerved. Scar and the little girl (and her panda) had vanished, but Al's shoulder was gripped by another of set of Envy's claws, and Father barked an order for them to be taken away, bent over Gluttony's body as it twitched with red lightning, trying to heal itself. 

“You three really are stupid,” Envy mocked. “We would have let you go way earlier if you’d just gone along with us. There’s no need for all this fuss.”

Then the claws were poking them in the back, steering them towards an industrial looking door and up a set of stone stairs. Gradually, the stairs turned from roughly carved stone to familiar painted concrete and the claw in her back shifted into a human finger. Becca turned over her shoulder to see Envy had taken the form of a soldier in military blues and horror dawned, which clearly showed on her face since they cackled excitedly.

“Where are we?” she asked, although she thought she already knew the answer.

They just grinned wickedly at her, then pushed a door open to reveal a... bathroom. Not quite as climatic as Becca thought it would be, but she still recognized her surroundings as one of the typical military command locker rooms. Envy produced a key from a pocket in their pocket and made a show of declaring how they would lock them in to go find fresh clothes, then left. The lock clicked as they followed through on that threat, leaving them alone.

As one, all three of them let out a sigh, even Alphonse, who didn’t even need to. Then they jumped when Envy pounded on the door from outside.

“Don’t dawdle!” they ordered. “You’re meeting Wrath in twenty minutes, clean or not clean!”

Ed stuck his tongue out at the door. “Fuck off, Envy! You’re the one who’ll have to answer awkward questions if we’re covered with blood!”

“Stay filthy! See if I give a damn!”

Ed opened his mouth to snap back at the homunculus, but Becca rested a hand on his arm to stop him. “Come on. Let’s just clean up.” She lowered her voice, murmuring in his ear, “Once Envy walks away, we can talk without anyone listening in. Better yet to have two showers going, just in case anyone passes by.”

He huffed, but let the tension drain out of his shoulders. “Fine,” he droned, drawing out the vowel. He proceeded to turn around and peel off his bloody shirt without hesitation.

Once he did, though, Becca went bright red up to her ears and looked away, protesting, “God, Ed, give me some warning!”

Chapter 40: anam cara

Notes:

hola my dears!

i hope everyone's 2022 is going well :)

after a harrowing travelling experience, i am finally back at school and vibing, so i've been pretty pleased with myself as of late and i'm actually really happy with this chapter. i'll admit i feel like i'm sort of lagging behind so i've been trying to cover some serious ground pretty quickly when it comes to plot, but today you get 8.3k words with a little plot, a little character, a little spice (that last one was a joke, i don't think there's much spice other than becca's general embarrassment). i did not mean for it to get that long but... here we are.

the next chapter should be a little shorter just because i'm not trying to give y'all fatigue after a few monster chapters, so i'm aiming for probably more like 4-5k words on that one.

you all know it, i know it, its almost north time aka my favorite arc in the whole show. i've started outlining it and ooh i'm so psyched. y'all ain't ready.

final note (shoutout to you if you read all my bullshit), in this chapter, we get some becca bonding with the colonel and i had some ideas on how ed's conversation with the lieutenant might have gone this time around. i'm not sold on it, but if people are interested, i might make that into an extra, possibly in the 'lessons' work of the main series. if no one really cares, then no biggie, but if people are, i'll probably whip something more than just the basics.

(also i just noticed we've hit 100 kudos, over 100 comments, and over 5000 hits-- that's fucking insane! ily all so so much, thank you for everything <3)

n e ways, love you all, enjoy the chapter, see you soon, byeeeee!

anam cara (noun)- a person with whom you can share your deepest thoughts, feelings, and dreams

Chapter Text

“Once I get this stupid debt paid off, I am out of here and nothing will ever be enough to lure me back,” Becca lamented as hot water pounded against her back. “This is not the shit I signed up to deal with.”

God, how she hated the military provided toiletries.

She knew that was an inconsequential thing to waste energy noticing after all they’d been through, but as she rinsed her hair for what felt like the umpteenth time and watched the red-tinted watery shampoo sweep down the drain while still feeling blood and dirt caking her limp curls that she’d practically wrestled out of their messy bun, she couldn’t quite bring herself to care. With everything else going on, bitching about her hair could keep her sane.

Everything else seemed so… big. Universe-level problems. They’d been right below Central Command. If they weren’t already convinced that the military was deeply entrenched in whatever plot they’d stumbled upon, this eliminated any doubt. Ling’s body was currently taken over by a new incarnation of an old enemy, something they hadn’t even known was possible until less than an hour ago. Ed had seen Al’s body when he passed through the Gate, but it- he?- had refused to leave with a soul that didn’t match. Whether or not it was the kinder choice, she and Ed had used people’s energies in order to escape; that was a fact they had to face and come to terms with.

Al had been horrified, but Ed was analytical, even though Becca could hear the uneasy quiver in his voice as he spoke. “We proved that you can perform successful human transmutation on living people and come out the other side as long as you have an energy source. That means we can use a Stone and get in there to pull your body out-”

“You act like you only see them as energy, Brother!” Al objected. “Even if they don’t have bodies, they’re still people!”

“Do you have another idea?” Ed snapped. Becca heard the water from his shower abruptly stop and the heavy thunk of his automail leg stomping against the tile, and winced, feeling the frustration rolling off of him in waves from her corner shower stall. “You didn’t see your body, Al! How… emaciated it was, I- I couldn’t live with myself if we leave it for any longer than we have to! We need to get you out of there as soon as possible!”

So yes, maybe internally complaining about the quality of hair care products she was provided with was petty. But it was easy-- easier than confronting everything else going on in their lives. And deep down, she already knew the answer to the biggest question that the Elrics were currently arguing: would they use a Philosopher’s Stone again if there were no other options?

Given that the only true Stones they knew of were the homunculi’s power sources, made from humans hundreds of years ago who had nowhere else to go, Becca would do it. For the ones she loved, she would use it without hesitation. She knew she could reason it away as much as she wanted, try to explain herself over and over, but it would never feel fully justified, and she’d have to learn to live with that. Was it… was it concerning how she was able to come to that conclusion?

While Becca was musing, it wasn’t the boys getting loud that drew her out of her reverie. Instead, it was a stretch of silence.

“Al… why do you have that panda in here?”

“You have what?” Becca asked, sticking her head over the half door separating her from the main segment of the bathroom.

“Um… well, you know that little girl-”

“Alphonse!” she squeaked. “Don’t tell me-”

Looking as guilty as a suit of armor could look, Al gestured helplessly downwards to the cavity in his chest that should be (but apparently wasn’t) empty.

“She’s in your armor?! Are you kidding me?!” Ed scolded, the shout echoing around the foggy room.

“Brother, be quiet! She’s sleeping!” Al chastised right back. “And while you’re at it, would you put on some pants?”

It was then Becca noticed that Ed was naked but for the white towel wrapped around his waist and proceeded to flush up to her ears once again in embarrassment, which only worsened when Envy slammed the door back open, arms full of clean, military issued clothes, and barked, “What’s the hold up?”

“Good fucking God!” Becca swore, ducking back into the shower and out of the homunculus’ sight as Ed shrieked incomprehensibly. “At least knock!”

“Do you want new clothes or not?”

“Put them down and get out!”

Thankfully, Envy didn’t seem too keen on their original twenty minute timeline since Ed had plenty of time to reproach his brother while Becca finally scrubbed all the grime she could off of herself and got dressed before finally stepping out into a pair of black flats. Her clothes, an unembellished blouse and a skirt that was supposed to be knee length but fell a few inches past hers, had clearly been taken off of some assistant or secretary’s rack of spares, while Ed’s looked like they’d been nicked off of a young soldier’s. His collared shirt and slacks were both also slightly too big and, if the way he shifted uncomfortably and favored his automail foot, the dress shoes were likely too small. The outfits were coordinated, white tops and blue bottoms, standard bits and pieces of the military uniform she knew they’d been given at some point but never actually wore. Ed had taken the time to re-braid his hair, but Becca knew they could only keep Envy and Wrath waiting for so long, so she opted to suck it up and leave hers alone for the time being.

An unfortunate consequence was the uncomfortable familiarity when she looked in the mirror. With each passing day, Becca couldn’t help but feel more and more like her mother was staring back at her. She resisted the urge to tie her currently straight hair back when it was so wet, knowing that would only cause more problems later, but the feeling only worsened without the ability to control the few elements that differentiated them.

“You ready?” she asked, wringing as much water as she could from the mess atop her head out into the sink and definitely not specifically scrunching it as she did in an effort to regain her curls faster, then looked up when neither Elric answered her. She looked down at herself, trying to stop her face from going pink again . “I get it, I look weird. Can we just go?”

“That’s not- I mean-” Ed sighed heavily, then huffed, “Let’s just go.”

---

Ed and Al whisper-bickered back and forth about what to do with the little girl as they trailed Envy through the command center, but Becca glared heavily at the homunculus, keeping their attention firmly on her even if having their knowing eyes on her only allowed to her to worry about the worst case scenarios-- Envy deciding that asking for forgiveness was easier than for permission and just killing them as soon as they got them alone, or actually being given a timeline for this master plan only to find out they wouldn’t be able to stop it, or Father deciding letting them roam freely was too dangerous and opting to just lock them up in his lair.

“Where are you taking us?” she asked, taking a few larger steps towards Envy so they were nearly side by side, although they didn’t let her get too close.

“Don’t worry your little head about it,” they said cloyingly. “You’ll see when we get there.”

The boys had gone silent, apparently in tense agreement, and Envy showed no urge to continue chatting with her, so she shut her mouth and fell back. She met Ed’s eyes and tried to smile when he rolled his eyes tiredly, even though she knew it came out forced. All of them were undoubtedly exhausted, but they weren’t done. They couldn’t be done yet.

“Wrath will take over babysitting,” Envy said, stopping by a door they’d never bothered to find before. Upon seeing the plaque, it was pretty evident why.

Fuhrer King Bradley.

Becca’s heart dropped into her stomach.

Right. Ling had warned them about that before… everything. Envy didn’t give them much time to digest, opening the door and ushering them into the Fuhrer’s private office where the man-- although maybe that label wasn’t so accurate anymore-- himself and Colonel Roy Mustang were having tea.

“Colonel?” Ed blurted out before anyone else could speak. “What are you doing here? What’s happening?”

For one stomach-turning moment, Becca couldn’t help but wonder if he’d betrayed them, if Bradley had offered him something too good to pass up.

But when he replied to Ed, his tone was too stiff. His shoulders were too tight, with the arms across his chest too tense. When he answered, she knew he was under just as much duress as they were. “What hasn’t happened? Fuery’s been shipped down south. Falman’s in the north. Breda got sent west. And Lieutenant Hawkeye was just made the Fuhrer’s personal aide.”

“What?!” Ed yelped while Becca opened and closed her mouth soundlessly, unable to think of anything to say that wasn’t encapsulated in Ed’s surprised squawk.

“Turns out the conspiracy wasn’t just a few high-ranking officers-” Mustang started.

“It’s the entire brass,” Becca whispered, horrified. “Isn’t it?”

The fact that the colonel said nothing, just sighed and averted his eyes, spoke volumes on its own.

“Sit, please,” the Fuhrer said. Despite the ‘please’, it was clearly an order, not a request.

Sinking down in one of the three remaining chairs between Ed and Mustang, Becca rested her hands in her lap and quietly contemplated just how confident Bradley had to be in himself at that moment. His only weapon was a thin saber and, after Envy shut the door behind themself, he was entirely alone with arguably four of the most powerful alchemists in the country. Granted, their alchemist status wasn’t super helpful since, as far as Becca could feel, they still seemed to be powerless. Still, not to toot her own horn, but their combined hand to hand combat abilities were nothing to scoff at either.

And yet, Wrath still knew he could take all of them.

She jolted in her seat when there was a tiny cough from inside Al’s hollow chest. Becca immediately picked up the steaming cup of tea in front of her, faked taking a sip, and made herself cough louder, at least drawing Bradley’s one eye towards her.

“Are you quite alright, Harper?”

The downside to that, though? Now Bradley was focused on her. She let her coughs die out and muttered, “My apologies. Wrong pipe.”

“You visited us in the hospital after the Fifth Lab,” Ed said flatly. In spite of his deadpan, disappointed tone, he’d reached over to rest his hand on her thigh, which had started to bounce anxiously. The reassuring weight calmed her racing heart, if only a little. Still, Becca got the oddest feeling that Bradley could still see him trying to soothe her under the table. “And you completely fooled us. You lied to us. You were working with the enemy the whole time.”

“‘Forget any of this happened. Do not speak of it in any manner to anyone… Do not trust anyone and behave as if everyone in the military is a spy for the enemy… I expect you to be ready to join me in the effort of crushing the enemy when I deem the time right’-- that’s another thing I told you that day,” Bradley said with a shrug. “And I stand by that. We will call upon you soon to take your places as the valuable resources that you are. That’s all you need to know for now. Keep your heads down until that time comes and no harm will come to you.”

“And what about everyone else? Everyone who isn’t a ‘sacrifice’?” Ed challenged.

“That’s nothing for you to worry about, Fullmetal.”

“‘Fullmetal’,” Ed chuckled derisively. “I thought that title was a badge of honor when you gave it to me, but it’s not, is it? I never wanted to be connected to something so evil.”. His hand left her leg, standing and rustling around in the pocket of his borrowed pants, and pulled out his silver watch. Blood marred the dragon insignia when he tossed it carelessly on the table. Becca’s head snapped sideways of its own accord, but Ed wasn’t looking at her. His burning eyes were staring straight at Wrath, daring him to push the watch back to him.“So I won’t be. If the State Alchemist program is only for finding potential human sacrifices for whatever you’re planning, then you can take it all back! I’ll tell the other alchemists and foil your plans!” His voice broke. “I don’t want to be a State Alchemist anymore. I won’t be.”

Becca’s own watch seemed to grow heavier in her pocket. In tandem, her hand grew just as heavy. As much as pride swelled in her chest at Ed’s stance, she couldn’t keep her mind from going back to another time she’d spoken to the fuhrer two years ago. When he’d informed her of the legal consequences he could partake in if… if she couldn’t measure up. If she refused to measure up, she could only imagine what he-- no, what this new group of threats would do.

“Hm,” Bradley said, raising an eyebrow. “No. No, I think you will serving of your own volition.” Picking up the watch and letting it swing back and forth, he didn’t bother to look at them, instead choosing to follow its path. “The symbol of a dog, fittingly encrusted with blood.” He let it drop down onto the center of the table. “Here. Take it.”

“Why the hell would I take-?”

“You have that little friend, don’t you? What was her name?”

Everyone else in the room froze. Bradley leaned sideways, resting his hand on a closed fist in a horribly relaxed position.

“Ah, yes,” the fuhrer said, snapping his fingers. “Winry Rockbell, yes? Your childhood friend from Resembool and your automail engineer. She’s practically your sister, isn’t she? And she told me she was in Rush Valley, with customers… and friends. Seemed like such a gentle girl…” He tipped his teaspoon towards Becca, making her swallow nervously. “And well, you can leave whenever you please. But can the same be said for Illusion?”

Metal slammed against wood and one of the porcelain cups tumbled off the table, smashing to the ground.

“You leave Winry alone! Don’t touch her!” Ed fumed. “And you can’t just threaten Becca when you already- when you-”

Bradley lived up to Ed’s previous silent challenge, sliding the watch back towards him and tapping the rusty surface. “That’s really up to you, isn’t it?”

They all stared between the two. For a moment, it seemed like Ed would fully lose his temper and Becca almost reached over to try and make sure he wouldn’t do something they’d all regret (not that she was sure she could have), but finally, he broke the staring contest. He snatched the watch back, clipping it back onto his belt loops, then dropped heavily back into his seat.

“Good choice,” Bradley praised condescendingly. He glanced at Mustang. “Colonel? Anything to add?”

The colonel smirked, his watch already hanging on his pointer finger. “I’m keeping this.” He swung it around, catching it easily and tucking it away in his uniform again. “I may be a dog on a leash, but I’ve still got my own ambitions, so I can’t afford to give it up.”

“Of course.”

Finally, that dark eye turned on her. While Ed’s attention was a comforting presence, Bradley’s was practically suffocating her.

Wait a second.

Her fingers twitched towards her watch, slowly fiddling with the chain. She leveled her gaze with Bradley's stern one. He’d threatened to kill her, sure. But Father had said it himself-- they couldn’t kill her. So he had… nothing. She could do it. She could run for it, find Winry and convince her to hide-

"And Illusion, you'll be happy to know that the amount of your debt has decreased."

Wait, what? 

"It has?"

Bradley shrugged casually, inspecting his nails. "Yes, your brother heard the terms and agreed at once to take half of the remaining balance onto his shoulders. It was almost sweet. You both have so much potential, it would be a shame if something were to…” He clenched his hand into a fist, “quash it. Now that I think about it, I have so many up and comers. You, your brother, the Elrics…. Colonel, you’re rather young for your position as well, aren’t you?”

“I-”

“So, with that information… anything you’d like to add, Illusion?”

Slack-jawed, Becca could only stare in disbelief. Her fingers trembled, almost pulling out her watch, but she couldn’t make herself do it. Now, with Will and Ed and Al and Winry and even Mustang dangling in front of her, she just couldn’t take that risk. Her shoulders dropped and her hand came back to clasp the other in her lap.

“No, sir,” she said, staring down at her skirt. She took a deep breath and squeezed her eyes shut at the same time she dug her nails into her palms, trying to mollify herself until she felt Ed’s hand gently prying hers apart. She opened her eyes as he gripped her hand tightly. Understandingly. He didn’t look at her, didn’t give any indication whatsoever that he’d even flinched at her miniature breakdown, but Becca felt his silent assurance that it was alright, he didn’t blame her. The firm press at least grounded her and forced her to take another breath.

Finally, she drew her chin back up. Bradley scared her, yes, but she wasn’t alone. They might not be able to take care of him today. However, as long as they got out of here and retained their freedom, they would live to fight another day. It was their only choice.

“Wonderful,” Fuhrer Bradley said, smiling jovially.

There was a small movement, barely noticeable, out of the corner of Becca’s eye from Ed’s other side. Of course, Bradley saw and pivoted right towards Al, who stiffened under his heavy stare.

“Do you have something to say, Alphonse?”

“Um… well, sir, I was just wondering if we could keep looking for a way to get our bodies back as long as we leave you guys alone?” he requested meekly, then, a little further, added, “Please?”

Bradley hardly seemed to notice his hesitancy. He only sipped his tea and agreed, “That sounds fine with me.”

Ed, Becca, and even Al let out a relieved sigh. At least Bradley wasn’t planning on keeping them under lock and key on Father’s orders.

“Everything sorted out?”

“Yes, sir,” Mustang parroted. Becca only nodded and the boys said nothing.

“Good. Then you’re dismissed.” Wrath clapped his hands, standing up. In unison, the rest of them copied. Becca dropped Ed’s hand and clasped both of hers behind her back.

“Actually, I’d like to ask one more question,” Mustang started as they retreated towards the door, and she had to resist the urge to reach over and smack him. Wrath was already letting them go, which was honestly more than Becca had hoped for. If the colonel screwed this up for them, consequences be damned, she would hit him. 

“Go ahead.”

“Were you the one who killed Brigadier General Hughes?”

Okay, maybe she wouldn’t hit him for that.

Any energy that had seeped back into the room immediately vanished upon the utterance of Hughes’ name. And Becca couldn’t help herself, she paused with her hand on the doorknob, waiting for the answer, unsure of what she’d do if Mustang attacked but ready to back him up if needed.

“No,” the fuhrer said solemnly. “That wasn’t me.”

Mustang nodded. Becca could practically see him cross Bradley off of his mental list of suspects. “Very well. We’ll get out of your hair.”

“Oh, one more thing.”

One more interruption to them leaving and she was going to pull her hair out. That was hardly an exaggeration.

“Alphonse? Would you mind stepping over here for a moment?”

Well, Al was hardly in a place to deny that strange request. He obeyed, stepping back towards the tea table. “Uh… sir, what do you- ah!”

Quicker than the eye could see, Bradley had drawn his sword and stabbed straight through a chink in Al’s armor-- right through his torso where the little girl was currently hidden. Dammit! She’d nearly forgotten the girl herself, but of course, the homunculus hadn’t missed the cough earlier! He wasn’t stupid. Al jolted, Ed cringed, and Becca winced, but when he withdrew, the blade was, inexplicably, clean. She tried not to let her relief show on her face as Al squeaked out, “Is that all?”

“That’s all,” Bradley affirmed. “You can go.”

Becca didn’t let anyone get another word in, throwing the door open and bolting as fast as she could without looking too suspicious. Luckily, the boys were right on her tail. The door slammed shut behind them and, a second later, Becca’s knees almost gave out and she slumped against the wall, trembling hands pressing into her eye sockets.

“Oh,” she groaned, “my god. Oh, my god. That was too close.”

Around her, the Elrics were similarly distraught and she could even hear the little girl’s high pitched voice echoing around Al’s body, freaking out over what could have gone so, so wrong just seconds earlier.

“Colonel!” Ed said, drawing himself up. “We need Dr. Knox’s address and phone number! And money, everything you have!”

Mustang stared at them in disbelief, then grumbled and pulled out his wallet, a stray piece of paper, and a pen. Becca thought she heard him mutter something about, “the things I do…” before he handed them all over.

“This is really all you have?” Ed scoffed.

“Apparently you don’t have anything!” Mustang shot back.

Tossing the now emptied wallet back to him over his shoulder as he turned and started walking away, Ed said, “Ugh, whatever. We’ll catch you up later.”

“Sorry, Colonel!” Al chirped, following his brother.

“Wha- hey!”

“We’ll see you soon,” Becca assured. She shot Mustang a small smile and said, “I think we’ve got a lot to discuss.”

---

Ed’s hushed conversation with Winry over the payphone faded to background noise as Becca focused on keeping watch for any stray homunculi. However, as minutes drifted by without any interruptions, her mind also started to drift.

She’d seen her father again. Well, technically, it wasn’t him, but his visage. Still, she’d seen him and had been… not afraid. For the few moments she could look in his eyes again, she pitied him. How strange was that?

And there had been guilt too. Now that she thought about it more, though, she knew there had been less than when she woke up from nightmares of that exact situation.

If there was one thing traveling with the boys had taught her, that had maybe just sunk in, it was that problems were rarely only one person’s fault. She still felt guilty for her part in the incident, but she was maybe, finally, ready to admit that her part wasn’t the only one. Sure, she had ignored what her gut was telling her and performed the transmutation, but her father had used her, had caused his own wife’s death for a chance at power. Where had his lust for power gotten him?

It had landed him there, as just one of many other sinners who had flown too close to the sun, while Becca was still allowed to fight, to try and redeem herself. Her father might have been the face of her Truth, but he wasn’t the Truth itself. And for that, Becca pitied him. Perhaps… perhaps she didn’t need to mourn him any longer– she’d done enough of that, she pondered. Instead, maybe she could be better, embrace the second chance she’d been given.

Maybe Victor had been right. Maybe it was time for Becca to decide what she wanted and chase that.

“You know, it’s this sort of desperation that allows them to use people against you in the first place,” someone said suddenly from next to her. Becca jumped nearly a foot in the air, jolted out of her train of thought, and whirled around to find Ling-- no, Greed.

Still, Ed voiced just as much. “Ling?”

“Nope, Greed. I told you that already.” The homunculus sighed, running a hand through his bangs. “God, you guys are too easy to manipulate. Such a mess after one simple threat.”

“What are you doing here?” Becca asked, frowning as he relaxed and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Without hesitation, she ducked out from his hold. “Wrath said we were allowed to go.”

“I’m not here for them, I’m here for your friend. Here,” Greed said, thrusting a white length of cloth into Ed’s chest. “He wanted you to give that to the one who’s waiting for him.”

Ed turned the cloth, which seemed to be filled to the brim with Xingese symbols, this way and that and asked, “What does it say?”

Greed rolled his eyes. “Hell if I know. Just take it to her so the prince shuts up and I can have this body in peace, okay?”

The red lights in Al’s armor’s visor narrowed to thin lines. “You’re not just gonna follow us so you can kill her, right?” he questioned suspiciously.

“I would never do something so low!” he said, sounding genuinely offended at the prospect. He cocked a slimy grin at all of them that was certainly reminiscent of his old body but so out of place on Ling’s and added, “Besides, I try not to fight women. You,” he said, booping Becca’s nose and making her wrinkle it in disgust, “were sadly an exception, but I’ll do my best to not let it happen again.”

Finally, he turned over his shoulder, long black coat swooshing dramatically behind him. “Plus, one of my principles is to never lie. But hey, it’s your choice, isn’t it?”

“Wait, Ling!” Ed called after him.

Greed waved over his shoulder. “Still Greed!”

“Damn, how about that?” Ed said thoughtfully, looking down at the stained cloth. He exhaled softly and folded the message into quarters, then handed it to Al along with the address Mustang had given him. “Here. You take this and that girl to Dr. Knox’s house. Tell him if he needs money that I’ll get it to him.”

“You two aren’t coming? Shouldn’t you get checked out just in case that guy did something to you?”

Ed stretched both arms over his head, swinging them around easily. “Nah, I’m feeling okay. You, Bex?”

“Fine,” Becca said primly. She brushed her bangs out of her eyes, making a face. “Need a hair tie, but fine.”

“We’ll go poke around and see what was going on up here while we were fighting,” Ed assured, then jumped unprompted, in unison with Becca and Al. Familiar energy curled through them. Their alchemy had returned. Becca let out a relieved breath and Ed smiled earnestly when he realized. “And make sure repairs for everything that went down before we went to the safe house are going okay now that we can help. Let’s all meet up at the dorms in a few hours.”

After Al had left, Becca and Ed made their way back to the part of town where they'd fought scar the day before, determined to fix as much damage as they could before passing out. Becca trailed behind, redoing many of Ed’s gaudy transmutations that the owners were less than thrilled with so she only caught the tail end of his conversation with two stray officers, though she couldn't have missed his thoughtful expression as they walked away. Becca didn't even have to ask for Ed to explain.

"They said the alchemists that tried to help earlier couldn't do anything," he said. "It must have been about when our alchemy wasn't working."

"Odd," Becca agreed, frowning. "I wonder how big the circle of influence for that interruption was. And who all it affected, since it clearly didn't affect Scar or that girl."

Ed opened his mouth to continue, and Becca was sure he already had some theories on the subject, but only a yawn came out. She sighed fondly, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and tugging him away. "Come on. I can hear your brain whirring, but it’s nearly sunset. The answers to all our questions will still be there after we get some rest."

For a moment, it actually looked like he was going to agree to settle in early. He blinked slowly, looking tempted, then his gaze landed on her pocket and immediately sharpened.

“We should get the lieutenant’s gun back to her,” he said decisively. “If she’s working with Bradley, she’ll need everything she can get to keep herself safe.” He offered his metal hand, palm up, to recieve the weapon when Becca took it out from its temporary home and handed it over, then offered, “I can take it alone if you want to go get some sleep…?”

Heaving a heavy sigh, Becca had to admit he had a point. “No, you’re right. But if you are okay with going alone… well, I think I need to go have a long overdue talk with the colonel.”

“Ugh,” Ed said, miming gagging. “Why?”

Becca laughed, but ultimately closed his fingers around the gun and pushed it away. “Haven’t you heard? I have a new policy on being honest.”

She checked her pocket watch, then winced. “Oh. One problem, they’ve both probably already gone home for the day. Can’t blame them after all the stuff from earlier.”

“Their addresses are on file at headquarters,” Ed suggested. “We could just duck in and ask. Bradley and his spies won’t have any idea.”

Becca hesitated. She really didn’t want to go back to Central Command after just barely escaping with their lives from it a few hours ago, but their alchemy was working again, Bradley had given them an all-clear (though she wasn’t sure how much she actually trusted that), and it had been made abundantly clear that they were on a time crunch. Who knew how much time they had before whatever plan the homunculi were preparing for came to fruition?

No, Ed was right. They didn’t have time for delays.

“Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

They walked to the command center in silence. Not uncomfortable, but they were both clearly stewing. Becca, for one, was considering every moment of their tea with the fuhrer earlier. What could she have done or said to avoid getting so… surprised by the cards he pulled? She had to have done something to prompt him alerting her then and there of Will’s apparent sudden care of her. Had her face shown that she was going to throw down the life debt as a “gotcha” card? Had Will even actually taken the debt or did she miss a tell that Bradley was fibbing? If she’d been able to keep a cooler head, not been as anxious as she always was when Bradley was involved, would the meeting have gone better for all of them? As the imposing building came into view, she couldn’t hold back any longer and blurted out, “Hey, Ed?”

“Yeah?”

“I- I’m sorry. About earlier, with Bradley. You forfeited your watch and I couldn’t-”

Ed’s eyes widened. “Oh, no, don’t even start.”

“What? I didn’t back you up-”

“Becca, our situations are totally different,” he explained, massaging his temples. “Even before knowing about the- you know- I would never expect you to- Bradley’s basically been threatening you since day one! I’m sorry I acted impulsively. I’m not just going to leave you like that. I meant it when I said we’d help you. It’s not just you and your shit brother having to deal with this anymore.”

That made her giggle weakly. She didn’t say anything to Will’s defense, but she did shove Ed a little. “Alright, alright. You’ve made your point. We’re okay?”

“More than okay,” Ed said, shoving her back. “We were eaten, got barfed up, and got our loved ones threatened together in 48 hours. That’s a lot of bonding experiences.”

“Some might say too many,” Becca snarked as they opened the huge doors and slipped into the main foyer of Central Command, the air much lighter between them.

Luckily, they didn’t hit any snags and, just like Ed said, were in and out with the information they needed. Mustang and Hawkeye lived nearby and they were able to go most of the way side by side, chatting about mundane things in contrast to the mess that was their lives and kicking a can between them. However, when it was time to split up, Becca gave the can one more firm kick so that it went airbourne, flew past Ed into an alleyway, and clunked into a trashcan. She looked up, a victorious laugh in her throat, and paused. Ed regarding her with a strange look on his face, though he blinked and looked away when he noticed her looking back.

“What?”

“Nothing. I mean- I-” His face was ruddy in the setting sun, but Becca personally thought it was redder than hers in the same lighting. “I don’t think you look weird.”

Oh.

Of the many things that Ed could have said unprompted, that was not on Becca’s radar as a possibility. It was a compliment, albeit a weird one, so she just responded with, “Um… thanks?”

“It’s just- you- you said earlier- when we were getting dressed, you said you looked weird. And I don’t think you do.”

Becca nodded slowly, not really sure what the point of this was. “I did, didn’t I? Well, thank you. That’s nice to know.”

Setting his jaw, Ed nodded once in her direction, then promptly turned on his heel and hurried away, shouting over his shoulder, “I’ll see you at the dorms!”

His face was redder than usual, wasn’t it?

Shaking her head to clear her mind, Becca pushed Ed’s oddities aside for the time being. There would be time to analyze that interaction later. For now, she set her head forward and kept on towards Mustang’s apartment. Depending on how snarky he was feeling, she’d have to be in a good headspace to have the productive conversation she wanted, so she focused on rehearsing talking points until she got to a brownstone building with faded gold numbers on the door that matched up with the ones given to her at Central. His written address indicated he was in apartment three, presumably on the third floor, so she pushed the main door open and started up the twisting flights of stairs. Sure enough, on the top floor, there was only one door labeled ‘3’ with a set of military issue combat boots left next to the generic welcome mat.

Becca took a deep breath. She knocked three times, clear raps ringing through the empty landing, and received only silence. She frowned. Mustang wouldn’t have gone out, would he? She supposed it was kind of presumptive to assume he’d be in since she didn’t call ahead, but she had to at least try to talk to him before she lost her nerve.

On that note, she raised her arm to knock again only to nearly punch the colonel in the chest once the door opened. Luckily, she was able to stop herself in time, but he laughed at her all the same. She sighed long-sufferingly.

This was going to be a long talk.

“I had to turn the radio down,” Mustang justified after stepping aside to allow her in. He was dressed down, which was weird, in a pair of loose pants, white t-shirt, and, to Becca’s ultimate discomfort, sock feet .  “Wasn’t sure if someone was actually there or not.”

There was indeed soft jazz music drifting through the hall from another room and, as Becca opened her mouth, he requested, “Take off your shoes, would you? The downstairs neighbors get pissy if they hear any hint of people actually living up here.”

Well, that explained the sock feet at least. Becca closed her mouth and obeyed, sitting down on his stoop and unknotting her boots, then tugged them off and set them next to Mustang’s. Now she felt overdressed. So she slipped her jacket off as well and hung it on a coat tree near the door before following Mustang further into his abode, coming to a stop in the space between his kitchen and living room, both nearly empty except for a few barstools and a truly questionable looking couch that Becca wrinkled her nose at.

Once again, Mustang gave her an… almost fond chuckle and moved toward the kitchen, standing on one side where a half-eaten, cold takeout container waited. She felt a little guilty upon seeing that.
“I’m sorry for interrupting your dinner-” she started.

“That was from yesterday. I was just going to reheat it, but it’ll taste just as good being reheated a few minutes later,” he said easily. “I assume this isn’t a social call. You guys need info on something and since you were the one who didn’t shake me down for cash earlier, Fullmetal sent you?”

“Um… no, not a social call, but… well, we don’t need anything either,” Becca confessed. “You said we needed to talk and I agree. I think it’s high time.”

That took him aback.

“What?” Becca asked, furrowing her brow. She knew it, she shouldn’t have shown up unannounced outside of the office, they didn’t have that kind of relationship-

“Nothing, I’m just not used to you three listening to anything I say. What’s with the look?”

Becca scoffed, then lied, “Nothing. I just made the mistake of expecting you to be mature for once.”

The sarcasm was the right move, steering them back into safer waters. Mustang barked a laugh and leaned forward to rest his elbows on the peninsula. “Alright, brat. We can talk. Headaches?”

“Going right for the jugular.” Becca slid onto one of the stools, folding her hands in her lap. “The headaches.”

“I know they must be pretty bad if Fullmetal knows about them,” Mustang said, growing a little more serious. “You aren’t exactly an open book when it comes to your own well-being.”

“Hey,” Becca protested. “I’ll have you know, I told Ed and Al everything. I decided recently to try and be more open with people I trust, okay?”

The statement was open, but the implication was clear: Mustang was on that list too.

Mustang blinked, settling back into a stool on his side of the counter. He started saying something, then stuttered to a stop. Finally, he just said, “I see.”

They sat in silence for a moment until Becca couldn’t take it anymore and started to explain. “So… the headaches. After my… accident, I lost some of my memories and I had this constant headache. I wasn’t able to perform alchemy like I can now. Then one day, I saw my father’s notes and that brought back my memories. Just like that, the headache was gone and I could transmute without a circle.”

“But it came back? How long ago?” Mustang pushed.

“Well, you see, that’s the thing. Before, the headache was constant but not all that bad, but after, they basically turned into migraines. It usually only happens once every few months, but it’s been happening more recently. I- I assume it’s from stress,” she said bashfully, wringing her hands. “They had started before I enlisted, but I didn’t think they’d get this bad.”

“Have you been hiding it from the Elrics?”

Becca winced. “Ah… not… not particularly. They knew pretty early on, actually.” Mustang frowned and Becca was quick to defend, “The only reason they didn’t tell you was because I asked them to. Please don’t be upset with them.”

This time, it was Mustang who huffed out a tired sigh. “I’m not- I’m not upset with you. Any of you. Well, maybe a little that you didn’t tell me, but I can’t say I’ve ever really given you a reason to trust me with that.”

“That’s not fair,” Becca interjected. “You’ve helped us a lot lately. Hence-” She waved vaguely between them, which Mustang seemed to understand since he gave her a small smile.

“Sure,” he said quietly, then stretched and popped his back. “Well normally, you’d have to be discharged for medical reasons, but something tells me Bradley won’t be signing off on that any time soon, so we’ll have to work around it. How have you been managing so far?”

Becca filled him in on her usual drill for headache days. “Of course, extenuating circumstances happen like the Freezer incident or the whole… getting eaten thing, but-”

“Eaten?!”

She froze immediately. Mustang hadn’t known about that. Oh, shit , Mustang hadn’t known about that. “Uh…” Redirect, redirect. “So yeah, sometimes things happen, but I’ve gotten pretty good at dealing with them-”

“Nope, back up.”

“Dammit.”

She was vague. She knew it and she knew Mustang knew it, but she couldn’t make herself talk about it directly. The wounds were too fresh. At least Mustang seemed to know that too.

She explained how Gluttony had swallowed them, Ling, and another homunculus by accident and trapped them between reality and Truth. Then she clammed up.

Mustang hadn’t said anything so far, but he cut in here. “I thought something had to have happened after you sent us away. You’re… different.”

“I am?” Becca said, looking up. Mustang nodded and her heart sank, so she looked back down at her lap. “Ed said I got ruthless because of- well, because I refused to rest and the headache got worse-”

“That’s not what I see,” Mustang corrected. “I see your eyes. They remind me far too much of mine… of Hawkeye’s. We have a killer’s eyes, Becca. I won’t lie, it worries me.”

“I had to do some bad things,” she divulged, gaze fixed on the counter in front of her. She counted each tile for the third time (the number hadn’t changed) as she pondered aloud again. “At least… I think I had to.” Rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands, she mumbled, “I don’t know. When we were getting out, we had to bypass the Gate of Truth so I saw my father’s face again. So I guess that stirred something up in me and now I can’t help but wonder… well… I can't help but think- is that what my parents thought? Did they think they were only doing what they had to? What if I-"

“You know, Illusion, I never really knew my father.”

“Huh?” Becca forced herself to stop. To digest what Mustang had just interrupted her with. His gaze was cast over her shoulder, but his mind was clearly not in the kitchen with her. 

"My father was an Amestrian trader. My mother was a Xingese commoner who he met on one of his journeys. I'm sure I don't need to explain how I came along-"

She stuck out her tongue, making Mustang laugh a little, though he quickly returned to a more somber state. "But when I did, they were unmarried. They loved each other, or so I'm told, and my father wanted to do the proper thing and marry my mother which, in Xingese culture, requires her parents' blessings. They left me in the care of my aunt and set off.” Dark eyes sharpened and Mustang looked directly at her. “They decided to take the sea route since it was slightly safer, but their ship went down."

Becca’s mouth dropped open, eyes wide. Why the hell was Mustang dropping this on her now? What was she supposed to say to that? “I-”

“All that to say,” Mustang cut her off, “when I started learning alchemy, I latched onto my master, Berthold Hawkeye.”

“Hawkeye?” Becca parroted. “Like-?”

“He was the lieutenant’s father,” Mustang confirmed. “He actually refused to teach me flame alchemy once I enlisted in the military academy even though he was the one who developed it.”

“So you figured it out yourself?”

Mustang laughed self-deprecatingly at that. “I appreciate how you think I could, Illusion. But no. I- I found some of his notes after he passed and taught myself, but he deserves full credit for creating it. He wasn’t… he was certainly a great man. The military tried to recruit him several times for his discovery. But he wasn’t a good man. For a multitude of reasons, many of which frankly don’t pertain to you or myself. Still, I- honestly, I sometimes wonder what he would think of me now. I don’t think he’d be pleased with me.”

Becca tilted her head. “Are you pleased with yourself?”

Smiling bitterly, the colonel replied, “On a whole… I am. I have regrets. I’ve made mistakes, followed orders I wish I would have rejected. But I can’t go back and change the past, no matter how much I sometimes want to, and every step I’ve made has led me here. I’m going to move forward and make this country better with flame alchemy as another tool in my belt. I’m sure– no, I will face consequences for my actions later, and I’ll be ready to accept them when they come.” There was something much darker about that remark, but before Becca could question it, he’d already brushed off the shadow that had come over him. He steepled his fingers, looking over them at Becca like he had over his desk on that very first day after she’d gotten her title. “Are you pleased with yourself?”

“I mean- oh.”

Becca narrowed her eyes. So that’s where he was going. Mustang smirked and gestured for her to go on.

“I suppose… I suppose I am.”

“That’s the difference between you and your father,” Mustang said, surprisingly earnest. “In all the years I knew him, the Quicksilver Alchemist was never satisfied. And he never did anything for the greater good. I can’t justify everything you’ve had to do. Maybe you can or maybe you can’t. But you can’t go back and change it. You have to keep pushing forward.”

“Hm…” Becca hummed, nodding slowly. “I- I’ll have to think about that.” She looked up, audibly shocked by how much he’d actually been able to help. “Thank you, sir.”

“No need to sound so surprised,” Mustang groused, shrinking back onto his stool and crossing his arms.

Finally, the thick air around them broke when Becca giggled. They sat quietly, more comfortably this time, and Mustang turned around, sliding off his stool and tromping over to a cabinet. “I’ll get us something to drink,” he provided. “You seem like you could use it.”

“You do realize I’m a minor?” she teased, raising a brow.

“You’re getting water, brat,” Mustang fired back. He filled up one wine glass from the tap, then poured himself red wine Becca swore she saw in convenience stores, though she didn’t mention that. He sipped appreciatively, then confided, “The lieutenant only drinks white, so I never get to drink a good red.”

Becca grinned. “Oh, yes. The lieutenant. So are you guys like childhood friends, or…?”

“Would you like me to bring up Fullmetal?”

“Shutting up now.”

They finished their drinks without another word and, when Mustang refilled his, Becca gave him a rueful smile and excused herself, “I should head out. The boys and I said we’d meet up at the dorms to decide our next move.”

“Of course,” Mustang said, getting off his seat to walk her out. “Any ideas?”

Becca shrugged. “Probably figure out why our alchemy was on the fritz earlier.”

“Your alchemy was weird?”

“Oh, yeah, I guess you were, um… busy when that happened,” she realized. She explained what had happened beneath Central as basically as possible, really ready to get back to the dorms and sleep for as long as she could. “There was this little Xingese girl and Scar- oh, yeah, Scar’s running around again, so be careful- who came and… I guess they technically helped, although they weren’t really that helpful,” she concluded, “but either way, their alchemy worked while ours didn’t, so I assume we’ll try to figure that out and go from there. We’ll keep you updated if we’re moving on.”

The colonel nodded approvingly and opened the front door for her while she twisted back into her jacket. “Good.”

She felt him watching her as she sat down in his doorway to properly lace up her boots, then stood up and saluted casually. Briefly, she considered slinging something sarcastic on him, but opted against it, instead just saying, “Have a good night, sir.”

“Goodnight, Rebecca.”

Once she’d reached the first landing and still hadn’t heard the door close, she thought What the hell? and, without turning around, instructed, “Try not to die just because the lieutenant isn’t babysitting you anymore,” which got one more laugh out of Mustang before he finally shut his door. Becca smiled privately all the way down the stairs, then braced herself to step out into the cool night, buttoning her cropped jacket to preserve a little more warmth. It was nearly November in Central, and, as she glanced at the rising October moon, she hoped for a brighter new month.

Chapter 41: abscond

Notes:

hellooooo my dears!!!

me when outlining these chapter: do a shorter chapter bestie!!!

and i did

mostly

its still a good length, i think. i just don't want to burn y'all out.

i'm working on the ed riza scene rewrite right now, so hopefully that will be up soon, but i've also started getting back into original fiction so that's been on my mind lately as well. we vibin' we vibin'.

i don't have too much to say so enjoy the chapter and i'll see you guys later :)))))

abscond (verb)- to secretly depart and hide oneself

Chapter Text

“Wow,” Becca said, feet tucked under herself on the armchair as Ed detailed the conversation he’d had with Hawkeye once she’d met up with them back at the dorms. They’d already theorized wildly about how and why alchemy had seemingly been disrupted for everyone in the vicinity other than the little girl and Scar, but then they had to move onto darker topics. 

The entire recounting had been awful, but for some reason, it had felt like a rock sinking into her gut when he’d recalled exactly how Mustang and Hawkeye anticipated paying for their actions during the war. “I knew Ishval was terrible, but I didn’t know all of that.”

“Me neither,” Ed agreed. “I wish someone would have told us about it sooner… or we would have asked. If we don’t know what happened, how are we supposed to keep it from happening again?”

Al nodded, joints creaking in the near silent room as he moved. “I’m surprised the lieutenant just told you all that, though.”

“Yeah, she didn’t hold back. A lot of people around here think we’re just kids, but she- she understands more what our positions are,” Ed said, leaning back on the couch to cast his gaze at the ceiling. “Alchemists are supposed to seek the truth, but that- that’s kind of bold, considering we don’t even really understand what we’re seeking, do we?”

“We only understand what we want the truth to be,” Al said sagely. “Like how Colonel Mustang sees his truth in the future and he’s already preparing for when it comes.”

“Preparing for the future, huh?” Ed pondered aloud, hands behind his head. “What about your future, Al? What are you going to do when you get your body back?”

Al’s attitude shifted rather suddenly from solemn to bashful. “Well…” he began, “you can’t laugh, Brother.”

“What? Why only me? What about Becca? I won’t laugh!”

Grinning smugly, Becca stuck her tongue out at Ed over his brother’s shoulder.

“No need to get defensive!” Al said frantically. “It’s just- I want to eat an apple pie!”

For a moment, Ed stared blankly up at Al. Then a smile slowly started to creep over his face, no matter how hard he was clearly trying to suppress it, along with a high pitched whine slipping through his pursed lips.

“Don’t-” Al said threateningly, his voice cracking, which was the only prompting Ed needed to burst out laughing. Becca stifled her own giggles when Al whacked Ed on the back of the head, shouting, “You said you weren’t gonna laugh!”

Curling up against the assault, Ed continued to laugh, full, earnest laughs from his chest that Becca felt like they hadn’t gotten the opportunity to have in so long despite the fact that it had really only been a few days since they’d returned from Resembool. 

“Winry said she’d make me one, Brother, you just don’t understand!”

Al kept whaling on him even as Ed held up his arms to try and stop him and sputtered, “Sorry, I’m sorry! I yield! Winry’s pie is really good! It’s a valiant goal!”

Slowly, Al’s rushed swats slowed down and he eased back onto the opposite couch. “Well, how about your big plans once we get our bodies back? Are your ideas any better?”

Ed rubbed at the back of his neck a little guiltily. “Hm… honestly, I don’t really know. We’ve been so obsessed with this journey for so long that I’ve never really thought about what comes next. I guess first I’d go down to Dublith to let Teacher know we’re okay.”

“That’s a good idea,” Al said, his voice softening. “She’s helped us a lot.”

“Everyone’s gonna be so happy,” Becca said. She stood and crossed the room to rest a hand on Al’s shoulder. “You’re gonna make a lot of people smile when you’re all healed up. Both of you.”

Ed grinned. “Yours is the one I’m looking forward to the most, Al, but seeing everyone smiling at us is going to be pretty awesome, right?”

“Right. It’s nice to think about something like that happening soon even with everything else going on.”

“Speaking of… everything else, we should get in contact with Knox to try and talk to that little girl,” Ed said, his excited smile fading to a look of determination. “There has to be some secret about her alchemy that we don’t know that let her and Scar keep using it when Father did whatever he did.”

“Alkahestry, isn’t it?” Becca said, twisting her mouth thoughtfully. “Maybe it’s not just the name that’s different– there could be a whole different set of fundamentals… hell, we already know the technique is different from how she transmutes.”

Reaching for the phone, Ed smirked and said, “Only way to find out.”

Al stopped him with a metal gauntlet on his wrist. “Brother, maybe we should wait until tomorrow. I think Dr. Knox might kill us if we interrupt him again today.”

Not surprisingly, the last few days were not conducive to a good night of sleep. Becca had jolted awake with her hand over her mouth to cover a choked gasp several times through the night, visions of her father and the Gate, of Will and Envy, of Father, Hohenheim, Ed, Al, Ling Now Greed, Fuhrer Bradley, and various other, older memories she’d nearly forgotten about that were already fading back into obscurity by the time she got a grasp on them. A few times, she thought she heard Al’s body creak, but she’d rolled over and feigned sleep before he could come check on her. Still, when the sun rose and she heard Ed starting to wake from the other bed, she sat up, dragging herself out from under the covers so she could get into the bathroom first.

After a quick shower (because she had been too exhausted to notice yesterday, but she still felt like there was grime layered on her skin from their ordeal), Becca got dressed, finally back in her usual clothes rather than the pseudo-military garb from yesterday, pulled her hair into a bun, and let a few strands loose around her face, brushing her fringe forward.

“There we go,” she mumbled into the mirror. If she didn’t feel fully herself, she could at least look like it.

And just in the nick of time, she left the bathroom just as Ed finally managed to sleepily tumble out of bed. Since they’d found out he was inadvertently resting for Al, she couldn’t justifiably poke fun at him for his drowsy mannerisms, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t lean against the wall and admire at what was the undeniably adorable sight of the great Fullmetal Alchemist bleary-eyed and stumbling slightly as he tried to adjust to the sunlight streaming in through the gaps in their blinds. She and Al, sitting on the couch as he normally was at night, shared a secret fond look while Ed was too out of it to notice.

“Good sleep?” she asked as he staggered past her.

He paused, blinking quickly to clear his vision, and cleared his throat. “Um… yeah. You?”

“Good enough.”

Ed frowned and his head swiveled over to Al for his opinion on her dodgy answer. Al didn’t move, and apparently some degree of Elric brother telepathy was real because after a bout of silent communication he turned his disbelieving gaze back on her.

“It’s just stress. I’ll catch up later once we have a better handle on this whole situation,” she said, waving his concern away. “I promise.”

Even she was surprised to know that she did actually mean it, moreso by the fact that her words seemed to satisfy Ed. He nodded in assent and disappeared into the bathroom, so Becca set about scouring up something resembling breakfast.

Once they’d eaten, Ed hit the ground running and went straight for the phone to call Dr. Knox. He barely offered a hello before Knox, loud enough that Becca could hear from a few feet away, shouted, “What the hell are you doing, bothering me so early?! Do you know the night I’ve had trying to keep those two girls from killing each other! They just left! I’m trying to sleep !”

Killing each other? Becca thought confusedly before the rest of his tirade fully registered.

“They left?!” Ed yelped right as that realization hit her and Al as well. They edged closer to the phone to hear the rest of the conversation. “What do you mean, they left?!”

“The little one left early this morning, before sun up,” Knox’s voice said faintly. “Said she had to find her traveling companions. And some old man came to find the older one, I think he was her grandfather. He followed the suit of armor.”

Fu followed you? Becca mouthed to Al, who shrugged helplessly.

“She did tell me to pass a message on to you if you reached out,” Knox said tiredly. “She doesn’t want to put your automail engineer in danger, so while she thanks Rebecca Harper for the offer of an introduction, she and her grandfather will find an engineer of their own.”

Ed swore, rolling his eyes. “If she’d stuck around,” he muttered, “she’d know Winry’s already in danger, thanks to us.”

Then he spoke clearer into the receiver, thanked Knox for everything, promised, when prompted, to not call him again, and hung up, slamming it down so hard Becca worried it would break and they’d have to pay for the damn thing. “Okay. Shit. So the little monster’s gone again. What do we do now?”

“If you think about it, maybe it’s a good thing,” Becca said patiently. “Her traveling companion is probably Scar and she just left this morning. They might still be around here somewhere. If we can find them, we could question them both at once.”

“How are we going to do that?” Ed groaned, slumping forward. “We can’t even try and use military power since Bradley has such a close eye on us!”

Becca conjured up a picture in her mind of all the faces she saw on the streets. “No offense, Ed, but something tells me finding a Xingese child with a panda in Central City, Amestris might not be the most difficult thing in the world.”

In the end, they each sketched the panda, hoping that people might have noticed it even if they didn’t pay attention to its owner. And it turned out Becca was wrong. Or the girl was just a master of stealth which, given everything else they’d seen, wasn’t too far out of the realm of possibility.

Days went by, spent asking pedestrians if they’d seen the animal or the girl– May Chang, according to Al– to no avail.

“‘It won’t be hard to find her’,” Ed mocked in a high voice on day three as they were resting on the edge of an empty fountain. He sighed heavily, clearly annoyed at their lack of progress. “She’s probably not even in Central anymore.” 

For a moment, Becca wished it wasn’t nearly winter. If it were, say, August, the fountain would be in use so that she could push Ed into it. Taking a deep breath of her own, she reigned herself in. They were all tired, her and Ed’s feet were sore from walking all over Central, and all incredibly over this lead. They probably would have moved on to examining some other potential clue.

If they had one.

Which they didn’t.

“How about we call it quits for today?” Al suggested, always trying to curb his brother’s temper. “We can regroup and start up again tomorrow.”

Ed let a long breath out between his teeth. “Okay. Let’s go back to the dorms.”

They pushed themselves off the fountain and started back towards the building they’d taken up as residences for their (more extended than expected) time in Central. Becca was the first to notice a military car trailing behind them and nudged Ed, gesturing as subtly as she could over their shoulders at the car inching forward. Ed alerted Al and as one, they slowed down. Either the car would slow down with them and they’d have reason to freak out or it would pass them and they could brush it off as paranoia due to everything else.

What they were expecting significantly less than either of those two was for the vehicle to stop next to them and for the driver side window to roll down, revealing one Roy Mustang.

“We’ve got to stop meeting like this,” Becca said before she could stop herself. “Are you following us whenever you get your hands on a car?”

“Ha ha. You’re actually not too hard to find when you travel around with a suit of armor,” Mustang said sarcastically. “I’m heading over to the dorms for some business. You want a ride?”

“No,” Ed said in a knee jerk reaction.

“Fullmetal, we need to talk. Get in the car.”

Obviously, it was unfortunate that Mustang no longer had Hawkeye watching his back. One benefit, though, was how they could all fit much more comfortably in the car with the extra seat. Becca stole shotgun so Ed and Al climbed in the back.

“So care to tell me why I’ve been hearing about you accosting citizens all weekend?”

“We’re looking for someone,” Ed said shortly.

“The girl I mentioned, the Xingese one who was traveling with Scar and was able to transmute when we couldn’t,” Becca filled in. “We figured it might have something to do with her using Xingese alkahestry instead of Amestrian alchemy and wanted to ask her-”

Ed scoffed and countered, “ I’d like to interrogate the micro brat.”

Ask her,” Becca continued, “about it.”

Mustang nodded thoughtfully. “I see. Want me to keep my eyes and ears out for her?”

“Frankly, I don’t fancy being in your debt,” Ed said, rolling his eyes so exaggeratedly that Becca could see it in the rearview mirror and had to suppress an amused smile. “Now quit beating around the bush, Colonel Bastard. What do you want?”

“Funny you mention being in my debt, considering you owe me money,” the colonel said as he held out his hand to the back seat. “Cough it up.”

Becca laughed sharply and quickly stifled it when Mustang shot her a harsh glare.

“I know you three don’t have to pay rent, but some of us do-”

“Oh, please -” she said disbelievingly.

With an incredulous stare at his outstretched palm, Ed sputtered for a few moments, then, when Mustang didn’t let up or say he was kidding and he actually had something important to tell them, grumbled, “I had a feeling your ass was cheap, but this is ridiculous. I can’t believe you even remembered. How much did I borrow, like 500 cenz?”

“520, don’t try to stiff me!”

“Geez! No need to be so petty!”

There was a few moments where coins jangled against each other as Ed dug through his wallet for the correct amount, but he didn't hand any money over. “You know what? I’m actually not going to pay you back now.”

“C’mon, Elric, don’t be an ass-”

“I’ll pay you back when you become fuhrer.”

Mustang’s words halted in his throat. Becca frowned, side-eyeing him when he coughed, clearly surprised.

“So that really is what you want?” she asked when the car fell into silence. Ed had relayed what Hawkeye had told him, but she needed to hear Mustang himself say it. “Your way of making Amestris better is by becoming its leader?”

He didn’t answer her directly in favor of turning around to raise an eyebrow at Ed. In turn, because it was Mustang who couldn’t drive to save his life even with both eyes on the road (a fact Becca remembered learning during the chase for Barry the Chopper a bit too late), the car swerved and Becca had to reach over and course correct, shouting, “Are you trying to kill us?! Stay focused!”

“Who told you that?” Mustang asked, ignoring her annoyance but at least putting his eyes back on the road in front of them.

“I talked to the lieutenant a few days ago,” Ed quipped back, “while Becca was talking to you. She also told me about Ishval.”

“Ah,” he said solemnly. “Well, then, just for clarity’s sake, yes. The position of fuhrer is an ultimate end goal of mine, especially since our current one is willing to sacrifice all of us and run everyone else into the ground for someone else’s sake. Forgive my arrogance, but I think I could do better than that.”

“That’s a pretty low bar,” Ed said before they all fell into somber silence until Mustang pulled over next to the building housing their dorm.

They all clambered out of the car and Becca had almost closed her door when the colonel ordered, “Wait.”

She opened the door fully again, allowing him to meet all three of their gazes from where they stood on the curb.

“You don’t have to pay me back now, but you will,” he said to Ed, black eyes heavy on gold. “So be ready for it when that day comes.”

Ed, however, didn’t seem to be intimidated, raising his chin challengingly. “Good. Then I’ll borrow more and pay you back when you install a democracy. Then I’ll borrow even more and pay you back when you install a parliament.” He smirked. “You see where I’m going here?”

“You’re not gonna let me off the hook for a long time, are you?”

“Oh, good, you do see where I’m going. You might not be so much of an idiot colonel after all,” Ed said, mockery clear in his tone. “Just a bastard one.”

Colonel Mustang made a face, unimpressed.

“Take care of yourself, Colonel,” Al said, grabbing his brother by the hood and pulling him into the dorm before Ed totally put his foot in his mouth and Mustang lost his patience. “We’ll see you around.”

“I already told you not to die without Hawkeye doesn’t have eyes on you 24/7,” Becca said as a means of farewell, “but don’t get your butt kicked and worry her either, yeah?”

Or us. Or me, at least.

“I’ll do my best,” Mustang agreed and she could see in his eyes he saw the underlying meaning in her words as well. “Now shoo, I’m meeting someone. I’ll see you around.”

Becca smirked at that too and stuck her tongue out, then backed off and headed into the dorms. On her way out, she brushed shoulders with a pretty young woman she recognized from watching her duck into the Fuhrer’s office as they’d hurried away from it the other day. Intrigued, she paused in the doorway where Ed and Al had stopped and watched the woman stride up to Mustang’s car, twirling a strand of hair around her finger and giggling. They heard Mustang’s deep chuckle and the pair exchanged words before the woman hopped in the seat Becca had just vacated.

“Seriously?” Ed said, face going red. “His ‘business’ is that he had a date?”

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” Becca said as the car drove off. As much as he came off as a womanizing flirt, Becca had never known Mustang to do anything without reason, and he was a hell of a lot more cunning than most people seemed to register.

Like recognizes like, she supposed.

“What do you mean?” Al asked curiously.

“‘S not important,” Becca brushed him off after sensing that Ed might blow his top if they kept talking about the colonel. “Or if it is, we’ll hear about it later.”

After getting up to their room and flopping onto her bed, Becca rolled onto her back and eyed the lines on the ceiling while she spoke. “If we haven’t found her yet, I think it’s most likely that she’s already left Central. It’s a better use of our time to see if there’s anywhere that might be significant to her or alkahestry and head there to try and track her down.”

Ed sighed heavily as he dropped onto one of the chairs. “You’re probably right. It’s just so frustrating that she was right there and we lost her.”

“Hey, we’re gonna find her,” Becca said, shifting over onto her side and propping her head up so their eyes met. “Or someone else who can answer our questions. She can’t be the only one in Amestris who knows anything about alkahestry.”

“May Chang might be the only one in Amestris who knows anything about alkahestry,” Becca was forced to conclude that afternoon. They’d opted for a quick brunch and then headed to the library, hoping to find one book among thousands that might help them.

And yet, though logically Becca knew they’d barely scratched the surface of the supply available, it still felt like they’d already checked hundreds with quite literally no results.

“I don’t know how it’s possible for there to be no mention of anything alkahestry related in this entire building,” Ed said, slumped on the floor of the aisle they’d decided to comb with a stack of discarded books next to him. “That can’t be possible, right? Central is supposed to have the biggest collection of books in the country! What’s our next move supposed to be if we can’t find anything here? Go to Xing?”

“Oh, God, don’t even think about that while we’re in here,” Becca said as she slid down the shelf to sit across from him. “I still feel like Bradley’s looking over our shoulder every time we’re in a military building and I don’t even want to consider what he’d do if he thought we might flee the country.”

Ed let out a drawn out groan. “You’re right, that’s not even a viable option.”

Becca leaned back, tilting her head back as if the higher shelves would have the answer carved into the wood. Instead, she had to stifle a startled shriek when Alex Louis Armstrong’s shiny bald head popped over the top of the bookcase Ed was leaning against. She wasn’t entirely successful and Ed’s eyes widened, already starting to turn to assess the threat when Armstrong boomed out, “There you two are! I’ve been looking for you!”

Hand clasped over his chest like his heart would beat out if he didn’t hold it in, Ed whispered, “Major Armstrong! What are you doing here?”

“Shh, you must be quiet in the library,” Armstrong said, holding up one finger over his mouth, which was ironic to say the least coming from him. He did manage to lower his voice significantly when he edged around the bookshelf and leaned closer to them, murmuring conspiratorially. “Mustang said you were looking for a little Xingese girl traveling with a panda?”

“...Uh-huh?” Ed confirmed.

“Good. You’ll be pleased to know that I have intel from a source of the colonel’s that she was seen at the train depot and boarded a train going north.”

“North?” Ed repeated. Becca wracked her mind, trying to pick through her extremely limited knowledge on alkahestry, if there was any clue they’d gotten as to what interested her there, but she came up empty. Ed pressed further. “Where in the north?”

“The farthest trains go up there is North City and the colonel’s source indicated she boarded a car intended for the full journey,” Armstrong said. “But if she intends to go elsewhere from there, we don’t have a way of knowing.”

Ed looked to her, eyes shining in excitement and a determined grin stretching over his face for the first time in days, and Becca smiled back encouragingly. “North, huh? Well, it’s hardly ideal, but it’s better than nothing. A real starting point’s all we need!” He scrambled to his feet and offered her a hand as well, pulling her up once she’d taken it. “Come on, we’ve got to tell Al! Thanks a lot, Major!”

“Wait!” Armstrong interjected before they could bolt. He reached into his blue jacket, groping in an inner pocket until he found what he was looking for and held out a clean, white envelope, sealed with red wax and addressed in exquisite cursive with the word ‘Sister’. 

Oh, right. Becca had heard through the grapevine of Major General Olivier Mira Armstrong, the ‘“Iron Wall of the Briggs”. It made sense that she was Armstrong’s sister, although she’d never really thought about it before. When she took the letter and examined it carefully, she swore it smelled faintly of roses and couldn’t help but smile. 

“There’s a reason Colonel sent me to tell you, so that I could give you that,” Armstrong said seriously. “It’s imperative you take it with you because it might just save your life, so do not lose it.”

“Can I ask why?” Becca asked, tucking it into one of her own inner pockets for safe-keeping. She’d heard the Iron Wall was much more cold-hearted than the Strong Arm Alchemist, but they were still State Alchemists. Even if Major General Armstrong technically outranked them, they had to have some swing… right?

“It’s a letter of recommendation for my sister, the Major General Olivier Mira Armstrong. If you encounter her, and I suspect you will since I doubt a rabbit could sneeze in the north without Olivier knowing about it, you must give it to her if you want even a chance of her helping in your search,” Armstrong informed. “She’s… tough, but she would be a good ally to find that little girl.”

Becca admittedly didn’t like how Armstrong hesitated before assigning his sister the word “tough”, but this was the best lead they had and it would be stupid to say the least and devestating to the Elrics to say the most if they had to brush it off just because they were scared of one soldier.

“What do you think, Bex? Should we give the north a shot?”

She forced herself to smile, dismissing as much rising anxiety as she could. “It sounds promising.”

Ed’s fist pumped the air and he looked like he might jump a few times from how excited he was. “Hell yeah! Where’s Al? We gotta go before we lose her trail again!”

He bounded off to go find his brother, leaving Becca and Armstrong alone. The large man patted her shoulder, clearly picking up on the nervousness that remained even after she’d assured Ed. “Everything will work out,” he said confidently. “You’ve handled worse than my sister, haven’t you?”

Becca blinked, thought about it, and nodded slowly. Just in the past week, she’d been eaten, fought multiple immortal beings and, although she’d lost, had lived through it, and was threatened by and escaped from arguably the most powerful figure who held her fate in his hands. She’d survived human transmutation and all the training at the hands of her father and more recent beatings at the hands of her brother. How bad could Olivier Mira Armstrong really be in comparison?

Chapter 42: brumal

Notes:

helloooooo, my dears!

me when i finish early while still staying on top of everything else: 😎😎😎

anyways i accidentally made this way longer than intended and somehow didn't cover as much ground as i was intending to, but hey, we're finally in the north!!! my favorite part!!! buckle your seatbelts, friends, bc we're in for it now :)

if you haven't seen it yet and you're interested, the ed and hawkeye conversation i hinted at in the last chapter or two is up as the second chapter in the "lessons", so feel free to check that out!

brumal (adjective)- wintry

Chapter Text

Becca was quickly gathering data to support her hypothesis that nothing could ever go according to plan in their lives. After all, why would Truth, or hell, Fuhrer Bradley at this point, let them exit Central City without problems? That would make things too easy, wouldn’t it?

Perhaps the fuhrer had sent his son and his bodyguards to drag them to the presidential estate house as another means of reminding them how much he could jerk them around like puppets if he so wished. Or perhaps their trio just had the worst luck in Amestris and Selim Bradley truly had only stumbled across them by chance and gotten excited to meet his hero, the Fullmetal Alchemist.

Either way, after Becca had found Ed and Al with guns to their heads after accidentally threatening the fuhrer’s child (seriously, what were the odds?) who was practically fit to burst with excitement over meeting his favorite alchemist, insisted they come to his house for tea, the shockingly normal Mrs. Bradley ended up serving them a very uncomfortable afternoon tea while her son peppered them with questions. At some point in Selim’s endless tirade of inquiries about alchemy, their lives as State Alchemists, what they thought of the tea and finger food attendants had set out for them, and more, the first lady intervened and forced him to take a breath. "I think Selim gets part of his admiration from his father. My husband tells us all about your adventures when he can come home for dinner,” she confided with a teasing smile while Selim gobbled down a small sandwich and she combed her fingers lovingly through his hair.

While Becca coughed on her tea at the insinuation that Bradley knew of everything they'd done (had he simply read their reports or had someone been watching them since day one on his behalf?), Ed took the opportunity to flip the questioning onto them. "Oh, yeah? And how is Fuhrer Bradley at home?”

Al elbowed him harshly at the unmistakably odd question and Ed quickly added, “We only ever see him at the office so-"

"Oh, I can only imagine he must be different there," Mrs. Bradley chuckled. "He has to be such a confident leader when he’s working, but with me, he's honestly always been such a bumbling fool-- in fact, the first time we met, he made me so mad, I slapped him!"

Becca gaped at the woman who apparently slapped Fuhrer Bradley, aka the homunculus Wrath, aka the sole leader of the most militarily aggressive country in the world, and lived to tell the tale.

"Ah, but look at me, reminiscing," she said nonchalantly as if all three alchemists on the couch across from her weren’t staring at her in disbelief. "We grew out of it and fell in love, got married, and adopted Selim, so all's well that ends well."

"Adopted?" Al asked curiously.

"We were unable to conceive so we adopted one of King's distant relatives," Mrs. Bradley filled in easily.

Becca raised an eyebrow and reached over, squeezing Ed's hand. Homunculi couldn't have relatives other than each other-- it was one of the few things that differentiated them from humans-- so where had Bradley gotten this child?

Hm.

Concerning!

“Father treats me just like his real son, though,” Selim said adoringly. “He works so hard all day and still makes time to play with me and help me with my homework!”

“Baby, you are our real son,” Mrs. Bradley said, wrapping him up in her arms and pulling him onto her lap. “You know that.”

Selim giggled, then turned around and buried his face in his mother’s chest. “I know, but still,” he said, voice muffled.

Mrs. Bradley was truly a humble and kind woman, along with a good hostess. She moved seamlessly to a new topic of conversation, asking about how long they’d been working together and if there were any extraordinary things they’d seen on their travels until it was finally time for Selim to head back to his tutors. Mother and son walked them to the huge door, and waved at them once they’d descended the steps before closing it behind them.

Becca let out a long breath. All she could think to say was, “Huh.”

“Yeah,” the Elrics said in unison.

They stood in subdued silence, just staring at the palatial estate shadowed against the sunset, until Al murmured, “Do you think his wife and son know?”

Becca shook her head, then realized they probably couldn’t see her and vocalized the answer. “No… they couldn’t, unless they’re acting prodigies.”

He hummed in agreement, but asked, “Do you think they have an inkling that something is off about him?”

“I- I don’t know,” Becca had to admit. “When you love someone, you can ignore a lot of red flags.”

She probably knew that best out of all of them. Ed gave her a sad, understanding look, then quietly urged, “C’mon, the ticket office will be closing soon. We can grab those and run back to the hotel, then we’re out of here.”

“Where will we go?” Al asked.

Becca and Ed paused, sharing a look, before they both facepalmed in unison. In all the hubbub, they’d totally forgotten to clue Al in on Armstrong’s visit.

“So Armstrong told us that the colonel heard…”

They made one quick pit stop, rushing into a fabric store just before it closed to find some wool, fleece, and white thread to combine with the clothes they already to prepare them for the northern climate, which earned them a dirty look from the woman behind the counter, at least until they bagged up their purchases, dropped a larger-than-necessary handful of cash on the counter, and Ed said, “Keep the change!” as they bustled right back out. 

She called out after them, asking, “Wait! You can’t be serious-” but the door slammed, cutting her off, and they were already running dangerously late. They barely made the train, but settled into a set of seats facing each other without any more problems. Still, the adrenaline was pumping from their mad dash and Becca’s hands continued to shake as they began what was to be a long journey north.

“Here, give me the fleece,” Becca said, “and your coat.”

Ed obediently wiggled out of the garment over and requested, “Don’t go sewing flowers on my back, ‘kay?”

“What, you don’t like them?” she teased.

He rolled his eyes, shrugging. “I just think they work better for you than they would for me.”

Their fingertips brushed as Becca took his coat and Al coughed pointedly, making both jump like they’d been burned.

“Ah- sorry,” Ed mumbled.

Becca nodded, avoiding Al’s burning gaze and instead trying to thread her needle against the rocking of the train. Once she finally succeeded, she spread the coat over her lap and started measuring out various pieces of fleece to line it.

“You don’t have to do that, Bex,” Ed said confusedly. “We can just use alchemy for it.”

She brushed him off as she transmuted the appropriate shapes and started stitching. “I know, I just- I need something to do with my hands.”

“That’s fair,” Al said, heaving a large sigh, which only demonstrated how exponentially tired he was. “But I need some time to space out and process. Feel free to not talk to me for the foreseeable future.”

Becca chuckled. She loved Al’s general sweetness and cheery disposition, but his occasional bouts of sarcasm and attitude were just as much a part of him. And just as entertaining.

“Maybe you could start combining the wool with some of the clothes we already have,” she suggested. “Like, weaving it into the fibers so our whole outfit is warmer.”

Ed nodded in agreement.“Sounds like a good plan.”

“And we can see how bad it is up there and maybe stop in town to buy some extra gear if we need it,” Becca added after thinking about it. “Gloves, scarves, hats…”

“I already have gloves,” Ed said, wiggling his covered hands in her direction. “And if we have wool in our clothes, I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

Remembering when she, Will, and their father had traveled north, specifically how miserable she’d been  after she’d been running around for hours and had started to sweat while freezing, Becca raised an eyebrow in his direction and added, “You don’t know cold until you get up north. Plus we need a layer we can take off for when you start getting cold sweats. Trust me.”

Ed chuckled, turning back to his work, and Becca did the same. She’d be proven right, she knew it.

And if she stitched a small grouping of white basil flowers on the inside of Ed’s collar, no one else had to know.

“Did I ever tell you guys about when my father took Will and I up north?” Becca asked after the lamps in the train car had dimmed for the night. The memory had been weighing on her since they’d settled down on the train and it really hit her what they were doing.

“No,” Al whispered back, mindful of the few others in the vicinity who’d begun to drop off to sleep.

“Any idea of what to expect?”

Becca shrugged. “Cold. And unless the culture has seriously changed since then, we might run into some trouble. The last time I was there- well, it started out fun. My father was busy with business, so he allowed Will and I to take a day off from training and- and Will played with me. And then they got word of a Drachman attack on Briggs.”

Both boys let out a noise of surprise. Becca kept going.

“Of course, my father didn’t bring us to the warzone,” she assured, then tried to joke, “He wasn’t exactly a good parent, but he knew that much, at least. He was summoned up to help with the battle and kind of just… left us with one of his subordinates.”

Closing her eyes, she tried to remember a memory that had been fuzzy for oh so long, of being surrounded by frenzied shouting and blue uniforms and jumbled radio noise. “I think… I think they were a radio operator. Not a babysitter. He didn’t check. But Will and I- we sat there and listened to the reports coming in. It sounded… awful. Terrifying. I couldn’t understand why my dad had made us stop playing in the snow and left us for that.” She shuddered, then took a deep breath. “Then we started hearing about all the injuries that needed more than first aid and got sent back to HQ… we watched through the windows as military vehicles pulled up. There were so many soldiers in really bad shape. When he got back, my father was so excited to tell us all about how he’d help destroy a squadron of ‘Drachman bastards’ with hypothermia caused by his alchemy. He was so proud of himself.”

Ed and Al were staring at her, some unreadable expression in their eyes and body language. Wordlessly, Ed reached over and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, tugging her closer into a side hug.

“That sounds scary,” Al said quietly. “You shouldn’t have had to experience that.”

She shook her head, moving on. “The point is… we might need to be careful. This situation has been precarious for longer than we’ve been alive, so we should just keep our heads down and try to not cause an international incident.” She thought for a moment, then amended, “Again.”

They made it about ten minutes into trekking through North City, the northernmost stop on the train’s route, before Ed finally agreed to visit a shop for warmer accessories to match their newly adjusted clothes. Outfitted much better for the occasion and after a conversation with the shopkeeper for directions towards the fort, they set off down a dirt road heading out of town. They walked for a few hours in relatively good spirits. The sun was shining, there was just enough wind to keep them cool, and, though they were tired, they all knew it could be much, much worse.

Much to Ed’s excitement, a horse-drawn wagon filled with snow-covered logs eventually came up behind them.

“Maybe they’ll give us a ride!” he said, tugging them to a stop to wait for the wagon.

Once he’d flagged them down, thankfully, the rider agreed to do just that and allowed them to clamber up onto the makeshift seat behind the cargo.

“I’m not goin’ to the fort,” they said over their shoulder as they coaxed the horse to a stop outside a hastily constructed wooden gate breaking the fence they’d been traveling alongside for the past several minutes. “Ain’t no way you’ll get me on military land without permission. But if you follow that path-” He indicated a path that was even rougher and dirtier than the one they were on, “-you’ll get to the fort.”

“Thanks,” Becca said as they hopped out of the seats, thudding one by one into the snow.

“Don’t thank me yet,” the driver said, pointing towards the mountain range in the distance, the tops of which were obscured by thick, dark clouds. “There’s a storm coming in. You’ll want to get wherever you’re goin’ before that hits. Better get moving now.”

“Well… thanks for the tip, at least,” Ed said, sharing a wary look with Becca and Al. Their moods undoubtedly dipped quickly, but Becca tried to paste on an encouraging smile for the boys’ sakes.

They started walking away until the sharp snap of the driver’s fingers rang through the brisk air, stopping them in their traps. “I forgot! Big guy, you got automail?”

Al shook his head. “Just regular armor.”

“Ah, well, that’s good.” They shrugged, cracking the horse’s reins so they started moving again.

“Wait a sec!” Ed called out. “Why were you asking?”

However, the wind picked up, carrying his words away so they went unheard.

“Let’s just hurry,” Becca muttered, starting down the barely visible path. “Get to Briggs before we even have to worry about it.”

The Elrics nodded keenly and followed, but their disposition had shifted and, within the minutes, the weather would follow. It started out with stronger winds just blowing around snow that had already fallen, which sucked enough, but then the storm their guide warned them about struck. There was a distinct moment where the snow cover went from thick to blinding and the wind went from annoying to misery-inducing. It would have been funny if it hadn’t been so awful.

“I’ve heard the weather turns quickly in the mountains, but this is ridiculous!” Ed growled, dragging his feet through the snowdrifts around them that grew with each second. “But Teacher said she survived for a month alone up here! Alone! So we’ll be fine!”

“She had to be lying, Brother!” Al argued over the wind whisking through the chinks in his armor. “She said she came out unscathed and that’s impossible! We can’t even see the road!”

“Teacher wouldn’t lie to us-!”

The two of them bickered between each other, snapping even as they had to fight for each word to be heard over the wind blowing around them. Becca, however, had felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up and was growing more uncomfortable with each passing moment. She couldn’t see anything– or rather, anyone – through the snow, but they were being watched. She knew it.

So when someone’s warm breath fell on the back of her neck, Becca screamed.

Before she could react further, though, a massive arm wrapped around her and flung her aside into a pile of snow. She tried to push herself out only to slip and send the entire top of the mound into the hole her body made, right on top of her. A frustrated groan tore its way out of her throat and she started digging herself out as fast as she could.

By the time she managed to escape, covered in snow and gearing up a transmutation. She shaped a staff of thick ice and raised it over her head, charging back into the battle. Her weapon shattered impressively when she struck their attacker on his thick, muscled back, but Becca didn’t back down and instead leapt up, clawing at the long braid going down his back. The man reeled backwards, shouting angrily.

“Bex!” Ed shouted from where he’d sprawled on the ground over the man’s shoulder. He’d transmuted his automail into his usual blade and Al, for some reason, was fighting with a net that had appeared out of nowhere. “He’s military!”

“What?! Why’s he hassling us then?” Becca yelled, clinging to their attacker as he jerked back and forth, grunting.

“He thinks we’re Drachman spies!”

“Why- whoa!”

The man threw her off and away again with an animalistic roar. This time, when she tried to get back into it, another pair of arms clamped around her. A wild, desperate look around her showed they’d been surrounded, blue-suited silhouettes littered around the landscape. Someone’s mittened hand came up to cover her mouth so she couldn’t even call a warning or cry out when Ed’s automail arm went limp and the large man, who she could now see had some terrifying chainsaw automail arm, got a grip onto it. Kicking and flailing, Becca fought to get free as the chainsaw ground to life and Ed shouted in panic.

When the man lifted his arm and suspended Ed in the air, Ed tried and failed to transmute the appendage. Becca switched from fighting for her freedom to trying to enunciate their names as much as possible through the wool mitten over her face as if they’d let them go if she managed to communicate who exactly they were.

“Big brother!” Al called seconds before his head flew through the air, right into Ed’s free hand.

“Thanks, Al!”

Becca didn’t know what Al expected him to do, but she didn’t think it was jamming it into the motor of the blade so that the strands of horse hair protruding from the helmet, making the machine screech gratingly. The man only just managed to drop Ed and put a stop to it before the two metal objects would have connected. Relief flooded her body and Becca finally loosened up, going boneless in her captor’s arms, chest heaving.

For the first time, she noticed the military issued gun pointed at her head.

“If my automail’s broken, Winry’s gonna kill me,” she heard Ed complain before he cast his gaze around. “Where’s-” He caught sight of her and his gold eyes widened enough that Becca could see it across the circle of soldiers. “Becca!”

He charged for her, only to be caught by the arm by the man he’d just fought. Al’s legs were still entangled in the net. “Not bad, kid,” the man said, “especially with that regular automail. But this is as far as you go.”

All of a sudden, the wind softened. The snowfall lessened in brutality. And at long last, the iron wall of Briggs rose out of the snow in front of them.

“I’m starting to hate the north.” Ed raised his hands over his head. Al did the same.

“Captain Buccaneer,” a low, icy female voice said from a balcony on the barricade. Becca looked up through her bangs at the blonde woman draped in military blues, armed with a sword, and seemingly not even raising her volume to be heard. It was as if the world itself stopped breathing to allow her to speak. “What’s going on here?”

Still holding tight to Ed’s arm, their attacker, apparently Captain Buccaneer, snapped into a salute. “Apologies for the disturbance, Major General Armstrong!”

Major General… Armstrong? Becca thought, looking closer. She supposed the major and this new woman looked similar enough. The woman was more lithe and smaller and overall generally more subtle than Major Armstrong, but it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.

“You’re the sister the major wanted us to meet?” Ed said, putting his foot right in his mouth. “You don’t look a thing like him!”

The woman rolled her eyes so aggressively they could see it from where they stood. “Identify yourselves,” she ordered.

“I- um-” Ed cast a wary look over the man with the rifle who kept poking his side, then continued, “I’m Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist! He’s my brother, Alphonse, and she’s my partner, Rebecca Harper, the Illusion Alchemist! Major Armstrong– the- the guy in Central– he sent us to- well- agh, it’s a long story, but if you just call off your men and let us have a word with you-”

“Frisk them,” she ordered briskly.

“We’re on your side!” Ed protested as several soldiers moved forward to do as the woman said.

Finally, the hand was taken off of Becca’s mouth as the man who’d been restraining her shifted to pat her down. He felt the small lump of the letter Armstrong had written first, one of the few things Becca actually kept on her body.

“Please open your coat and take that out of your pocket,” the man said, gesturing to the spot by her ribs.

Becca sighed heavily at the thought of exposing herself any more of the weather, already starting to shiver as the snow she’d fallen in melted and dripped into her clothing, but obliged and handed over the envelope. “It’s a letter of introduction from the major,” she said. “If someone reads it, you’ll know we’re telling the truth.”

The soldier nodded resolutely, running into the fort and reappearing a few moments later on the same platform as the major general and, presumably, relaying Becca’s words in a whispered tone while they waited at the foot of the metal wall. Armstrong nodded slowly, put her hand out for the letter, and then, without even opening it, ripped it in half and dropped it over the railing.

“Hey!” Edward yelped. The letter fluttered to the ground, the ink smudging as it sank into the snow. “You’re not even going to read it?”

“A letter of introduction means nothing to me,” Armstrong said, shrugging. “I don’t need anyone else’s opinion. I’ll form my own.”

“Here, ma’am!” the soldier patting Ed down shouted, holding up his silver watch triumphantly. “He has the watch!”

“Hm,” Armstrong said, clearly unimpressed. “Very well.”

She flicked her hand and, with a thunderous groan, a metal door creaked open on the wall, revealing several floors worth of catwalks and platforms.

“Enter, alchemists, but be warned,” she said, looking down her nose at them. “I have no intention of babysitting you. This is Briggs , and here, only the strong survive.”

After a sufficient amount of gaping at the sheer magnitude of the busyness around them as they were escorted into the Briggs fortress, the soldiers guarding them left them in the fort’s hospital wing, supervised by a bespectacled doctor.

“Classic case of frostbite,” she said as she laid towels soaked in warm water on the joints where Ed’s automail met his skin. “And you got lucky. Any longer out in a storm like that and there could have been permanent damage to the wiring, as well as the tissues that connect your limbs to your body.”

Huddled by a fireplace and wrapped in a blanket, Becca still shivered at the thought. Perhaps it hadn’t been the worst thing in the world that they’d been found if that was what was at stake.

Then she sneezed, shivered again (this time, at least, it was definitely from the cold), and grumbled about how, “they didn’t have to get me all wet, though.”

“But that Buccaneer guy had automail that worked just fine!” Ed argued.

Speak of the devil, the burly, dark haired captain barged through the door, Al’s head still clanging around from within the chainsaw blades as he swung his arm around, causing several wandering technicians to duck out of the way lest they get clocked in the head by his careless flailing.

“I can’t get this thing out!” he complained over Al’s indignant yelps at the mistreatment. The doctor herself largely ignored Buccaneer, simply gesturing him to a stool next to Becca’s by the fire while she explained the differences in automail compounds and construction in the north to Ed.

“Don’t go giving away all our secrets. They might be kids but they’re still strangers,” Buccaneer warned.

The doctor rolled her eyes. “Are they strangers or are they state-certified alchemists and technically your superiors?”

The captain made a choked sound of realization, head whipping back and forth from Ed to Becca like he couldn’t believe it. Becca sighed, pulling out her watch, and Ed flashed the one that a Briggs soldier had begrudgingly returned to him after escorting them inside, smirking proudly once he made the connection as well. An ugly, contemptful expression overtook Buccaneer’s face and he growled, bending down so he could get in Ed’s face. Ed himself stood up, nearly putting him with eye level of Buccaneer’s leering form across the room.

Becca put a warning hand on Buccaneer’s bare, flesh arm. She might be tired from their excursion, but if the rowdy military man made any hostile move towards Ed, especially when his arm still wasn’t working properly, she’d defend him at once.

Luckily, the doctor stepped in between them, pushing Ed back into a sitting position and readjusting the towel on his leg before moving to finally start disentangling the helmet from the teeth of Buccaneer’s blade. “Frankly, I’m surprised your engineer allowed you to come here without warning you,” she remarked. “It’s irresponsible, to say the least.”

Ed pulled a face, looking away. Becca, refusing to let this doctor badmouth her friend, said, “She didn’t know we were coming. It was a last minute decision.”

“Well, you’d better- ugh-” she said lightly, grunting as she tugged at the helmet, “get fitted for some new automail if you plan on staying up here long.” With one final tug, she wrenched the head free at the expense of most of the horsehair that had formerly flowed from the crown. “Unless you want to wind up dead.”

She tossed it over her shoulder to Al, who caught it and squawked, “My hair!”

The average person might not be able to see the disappointment in Al’s posture, in the slight droop of his shoulders and the quiet, dejected noise he made as he adjusted his helmet, but Becca recognized the signs she’d slowly grown familiar with over their travels, no matter how often Al tried to hide it. Ed’s sad golden eyes from across the room confirmed that he’d seen it too. Becca’s shivering had diminished enough that she could push herself up, still wrapped in a thick blanket, and at least go over and pat Al’s shoulder. “Don’t worry,” she murmured so only he could hear. “We’ll find something to fix it.”

“Military command didn’t send us any word of your… arrival,” Buccaneer said suddenly, crossing his freed arms over his large chest.

“We didn’t tell anyone!” Ed snapped, the spark flying back into his body as quickly as it had left. “But if your damn general would have bothered to read the letter we brought-”

“Talking about me, little red runt?”

Ed shrieked in fright, but Olivier Mira Armstrong clearly didn’t care. Without another acknowledgement to any of them, she checked in with the medic, made sure they were cleared enough to leave the medical bay to “talk”. The doctor joked, “I don’t know if anyone can ever be cleared for one of your talks, sir,” and the major general didn’t crack a smile, just raised an eyebrow until she waved her hand for them to go ahead and Armstrong’s cold, demanding gaze was enough of a command to follow her for them.

“So you’re on good terms with my brother,” Armstrong started, kicking one leg over the other as she plopped down into a chair in a side office of the medic bay, notably not gesturing for their trio to do the same. “How is he?”

“He’s great!” Al chirped quickly, clapping his metal hands. “He’s-”

“Hm. Fine,” Armstrong cut him off. “Really, I want to know why you bothered to come straight here rather than going through the Central and Northern Command Centers.” Cold blue eyes flashed dangerously, scanning all three of them critically. “And I want to hear everything. Including why that armor is empty.”

Oh. Uh oh.

Vaguely, she heard the others voices, though she couldn’t force herself to fully listen in, too busy trying to stop her hands from shaking. The Elrics weren’t exactly at parade attention. Becca stood up straight. She had started to shiver again sometime in the silence between sitting in front of the fire and moving to this tiny, solitary room. It could have been from the cold, but it also could have been from the fear brewing in her belly. She had just gotten to a good spot with Mustang, her actual commanding officer, where she didn’t quake any time he asked for a moment alone. However, Mustang had proven himself to be safe. An asshole, sometimes, but safe. She didn’t know Armstrong, couldn’t predict her actions the same way she could predict Mustang– even when she didn’t understand his plans, he’d proven that he wouldn’t intentionally lead them to ruin. What if Armstrong did?

While she’d been… pondering, Ed and Al had been having a whispered conversation of their own. Becca only really tuned back in when she heard Ed say, “It all started when we tried human transmutation-”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” she interrupted. “We can’t just-”

Ed turned over his shoulder, insisting, “We have to, Bex.”

At the same time, though, he gave her a meaningful look. Clearly, he’d known that she had spaced out, but his eyes told her to trust him.

And even if she didn’t know anything else, she knew she could do that. So she took a deep, unsteady breath, and nodded. “Okay… okay. Whatever you need to do.”

Luckily, they actually had a very solid plan, telling Armstrong just enough to satiate her curiosity, but steering clear of any topics Wrath forbade during their conversation in Central. They explained how they’d only been in too much of a rush to bother with the bureaucracy because they knew the little girl they were following could move (and disappear) fast. Al, not bothering to hide his emptiness in present company, pulled one of the drawings they’d done of the girl’s panda and handed it over to Armstrong. Becca said nothing, just nodding in support whenever Ed took a breath, and kept her head bowed, eyes on the ground.

And, despite all of their luck lately, Armstrong seemed to understand, taking the drawing and examining it critically. “I see. This girl’s alkahestry is an unknown, so it could help you finish your quest.”

“So you’ll help us?” Al asked hopefully.

“On the contrary.”

Or maybe their luck was doomed to stay the same for the rest of their damn lives.

“What?! Why not?” Ed snapped, opening his mouth to argue more until Becca elbowed him in the back and he closed it, still obviously fuming.

“You three are not only reckless, but dangerous,” Armstrong said, brushing a hand through her hair. She set the drawing aside and kicked one leg up, crossing it over her knee. “You bring chaos and destruction wherever you go, all for the sake of accomplishing your own selfish goals.”

Becca bit her tongue, sucking in a short breath. Selfish? How dare she call them selfish when they’d given up everything only to find out-

Ed reached backwards, took her hand, and squeezed tightly, grounding her once again. Swallowing thickly, Becca squeezed back, then let go as Armstrong kept tearing into them.

“I don’t want trash like you representing our military and I certainly don’t want you in my fort-”

Great, they’d just gotten into the warmth and they were about to be kicked back out. Becca hugged the blanket she’d been given around her tighter, wondering if she could convince the doctor to let her keep it. Probably not. Maybe she could buy it? It would be better than nothing out there, and if they could at least find a cave or something to wait out the storm.

“-is what I’d like to say. However,” the major general said, sighing. As one, the teenagers picked their heads up and stared disbelievingly at her, “now that you’ve brought it to my attention, I want to look into this alkahestry for myself. We can never have too many tools in our arsenal-”

“You want to weaponize it? You can’t do that!” Becca blurted out before she could finish, then clapped a hand over her mouth to stop any more blatantly disrespectful outbursts.

“Why not?” Armstrong challenged. “It sounds like the girl does.”

Becca said nothing, frowning, until Armstrong waved her hand and demanded, “Speak freely. If you’re going to make a claim, you have to back it up.”

“It- it’s different for her. She uses it in self-defense,” she said. “Alkahestry is for healing and- and more than that, it’s not ours . It’s disrespectful to twist it when we can’t possibly understand, not to mention how incredibly dangerous unsupervised experimentation would be. Alkahestry is proof that alchemy can be used for something good, not just bloodshed-”

Armstrong laughed derisively. She leaned forward, reaching past Ed and Al and grabbing the collar of Becca’s shirt, then dragging her down to her level despite the Elrics’ yelps of protest. Becca grit her teeth, but didn’t break eye contact. “That’s the view of a dog yapping while knowing nothing of the world beyond their yard. You might have stayed nice and safe in the central region, but you have no idea what it means to fight the wars at our border where the right technique in the right hands can turn the tide and ensure victory.” Her grip tightened, tugging Becca closer. Her gaze burned. “You alchemists say that one equals one, but I don’t care. Those laws need to be broken.”

“You don’t know us,” Becca said in a low voice. “You don’t know what I’ve been through, so don’t go making statements like that, saying I don’t know what I’m talking about. The rules of the universe are there for a reason and the real fools are those who think they can break them without consequences.”

She clicked her tongue in her mouth and countered, “That would include you, wouldn’t it?”

“I never said it didn’t.”

A cold sneer cracked through the major general’s stony facade. Finally, Armstrong released her and Becca straightened up, crossing her arms over her chest protectively. “I apologize for my outburst,” she mumbled.

“At least one of you has some guts,” Armstrong retorted. “Even if you are some of the most stupid brats I’ve had the displeasure of meeting.” Shrugging on her coat, Armstrong stood up and shouted, “Buccaneer!”

The hulking captain appeared in the doorway. Becca wondered if he’d been standing outside the whole time. If he’d been listening to her impertinence. “Yes, Major General?”

“Find them some work to do.”

“Hey! We have work to do! We aren’t here to do free labor!” Ed objected stringently.

Armstrong waved him away. “My forces will start looking for the girl, and, as of now, you can’t even leave the fort without freezing to death. Here, the rule ,” she said pointedly at Becca, “is that he who does not work, does not eat.”

Becca shrugged. As if she’d argue any more with Armstrong and risk getting booted back out in the snow.

“Yes, ma’am. The men on the icicles could use some extra hands,” Buccaneer suggested, smirking knowingly.

“Good. Have Miles escort them.”

He nodded, smirk breaking into a knowing grin, then jabbed at the three of them. “Of course. Double time, you three, let’s go.”

Chapter 43: meliorism

Notes:

hello hello my dears!!!

(shows up at 10:30 on friday with a starbucks and a finished chapter)

i had writers block

okay thats not totallyyyyyy true, but i've been getting back into original writing recently so a lot of creative energy has been going to getting that booted up and writing papers (and contesting those grades bc some TAs really are something else [don't get me wrong, i love them]), so i haven't had as much time as i would have liked to work on this, but fear not, i have not abandoned you. we have a fun little ed/becca moment, i think, and i'm hoping my upcoming spring break will give me some time to get ahead on all my projects bc lord knows i won't be doing anything else lol.

i'm so freaking excited y'all you don't Understand! the next arc is gonna be so fun... for me >:)

after that honestly the trajectory is up to you guys. i haven't decided what i'm gonna do with the timeskip time, or how many chapters i'll do with it. some of it will depend on how much time various character development things that are planned are gonna take, but honestly, some if it is just going to be me asking you guys "is this boring yet?" and deciding off of that. anything that ends up getting cut will just be a bonus work in the masterpiece verse collection.

n e ways

love y'all, stay safe and healthy, mwah!!!

EDIT (3/25/22): honestly i wasn't thrilled with this chap, so i went ahead and added another few scenes as my next update. i'll see y'all in two weeks!

meliorism (noun)- the belief that the world gets better; the belief that humans can improve the world

Chapter Text

Buccaneer passed them off to a brown skinned, white haired man with the insignia of a major on his chest. At least he seemed to trust them not to run off enough that he walked ahead of them rather than poking them in the backs with one of the many guns Becca could see on his person.

How sad was it that that was how she measured situations nowadays?

“Major- um- Miles, was it?” she said carefully. “What exactly does being ‘on the icicles’ entail?”

He said nothing. The steady clicking of his boots on the metal floor didn’t even falter. All three teenagers shared an uneasy look.

“Earlier, the major general told us that everyone here has secrets,” Ed pushed, trying for a more confrontational approach to breaking the ice. “Something they’d rather not get out. I don’t think it’s fair that we’re the only ones who have to be so honest. You got any skeletons in your closet, Major?”

The major halted, the entire hallway going eerily silent.

“You really want to know?” Miles said in a low voice.

Becca bit back a squeak of, “Not really”, but even Ed and Al said nothing, waiting for Miles to either tell them his own secrets or, given how things seemed to go here, possibly shove them off the catwalk.

Miles slid his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose, peering at them over the lenses.

Peering at them with blood red eyes.

Becca could admit that her heart skipped a beat as she took in a sharp breath of surprise.

“You’re Ishvalan!” Ed yelped. “How is that- I thought all the Ishvalan soldiers were taken out of action before the campaign!”

Shrugging dismissively, Miles clarified, “The only true Ishvalan in my blood is my grandfather. My parents and my grandmother were all Amestrians. I suppose his blood just ran particularly strong.” He stepped towards them, large frame eclipsing one of the few harsh lights hanging from the ceiling as he crowded them. “His land was destroyed… devastated by your people. Amestrians.”

His eyes flicked between them, one after the other, but locked with Ed’s with a sense of finality moments before he spoke.

“And Ishvalans burned parts of my hometown to the ground in the earliest years of the civil war,” Ed said dryly. “Your people killed my friend’s parents.”

“Brother!” Al whispered, scandalized. Becca stepped forward, inching within a protective distance even as her arm jerked out to elbow him in the side.

The stand off lasted for about thirty tense seconds where they stared each other down– it was three on one, but Becca didn’t doubt that Major Miles could and would take them all down easily if he wanted to. Finally, though, Miles cracked first.

He laughed sharply, patting Ed appreciatively on the head while Becca watched his hands like a hawk in case he had a knife or gun stashed in his sleeve and Al looked on, metal body still tense. “That’s the first time someone’s ever talked back to me like that!” he chuckled, pulling back and putting his glasses back on, red irises obscured once again. “I know I speak harshly on this subject, but I appreciate being spoken to like an equal.”

“You were… testing us?” Al asked hesitantly.

“I’m sorry,” Miles said. Becca narrowed her eyes at his nonanswer, but slowly started to relax. “People have always pitied me since the civil war. My eyes- my blood makes people… uncomfortable, and it gets tiring having to explain myself all the time. It’s refreshing to have someone neither pity nor fear me when they know the truth.”

“I think it’s lazy to try and boil everyone down to their race,” Ed said, glancing at Becca and Al over his shoulder, “not to mention unhelpful. And if there’s one thing we’ve learned over the last few months, it’s that we’ve been ignorant to a lot of what happened in the past, right, guys?”

“And how it affects today,” Becca added. She bundled her arms over her chest, hunching her shoulders. “We’ve met good people and bad people and people who are in between. Some of them are Ishvalans.’’ There was Scar, of course, but Ishvalans had saved Ed when he went to the desert (granted, there had also been the one who took him hostage in the first place), but more than that, there was Shou Tucker, who most likely didn’t have an ounce of Ishvalan blood and was easily one of the most evil people Becca had ever known. Her own parents had arguably treated her worse than anyone of any other race had. Ling had chased them down, his guards had threatened to hurt Ed and Al to gain information, and yet when they teamed up, they sacrificed everything for them. Who was she to judge based on skin tone when, really, proportionally, none had treated her worse than others?

And besides, she pondered darkly, very few “bad” people did things just for the sake of evil. Be it revenge or fear or honor, she wasn’t sure there were many pure evil beings out there. Their actions were terrible, but that didn’t mean, to a certain extent, Becca didn’t understand where they came from.

At last, they set off again, heavy footsteps echoing around them, and, of course, Ed continued to prod.

“So were you in the military when the civil war happened?”

“Yes, I had just started as Major General Armstrong’s assistant,” Miles said carefully, picking around a frozen puddle. “The extermination started right around the time I arrived at this post and I suppose I was far enough away to be ignored. Most of my Ishvalan relatives weren’t so lucky. My grandfather and his siblings, my aunts, my uncles, my cousins, and all their children were killed.”

Becca’s stomach sank. She couldn’t imagine the pain that must have come when Miles received that letter– when he realized that luck was the only thing that had kept him from the same fate. Ed had repeated what the military told the public on the fate of most Ishvalan soldiers, but she’d long since lost faith in their word to believe that idea anymore.

She glanced over at Ed biting his lip just in time to see him open his mouth and she had to grind down the urge to stomp on his foot.

“Did you hate the military?”

Oh, God, Becca thought, tensing up. That may well be the straw that broke the camel’s back and finally got Miles to snap at them. Maybe she should have stomped on Ed’s damn foot.

Luckily, Miles only laughed sharply, clapping Ed on the back (maybe a little harder than necessary, but she wouldn’t be surprised if that was just the way things went in the Briggs). “You’re not afraid to ask questions, are you?”

“Oh!” Ed yelped, as if just realizing that could have been taken way, way wrong. “I’m sorry if I offended you. I guess I like asking tough questions because I realized how ignorant I am.”

“An ignorant State Alchemist?” Miles asked, raising an eyebrow.

Two ignorant State Alchemists,” Becca corrected quietly. “We’ve learned a lot lately about who we should be trusting. I’d like to have a contrasting opinion and then make my own choices.”

“Never thought I’d hear that.” The major hummed thoughtfully. “Well, to answer your question, I did hate them. Some of it was probably also fear– I didn’t understand why Major General Armstrong was keeping me on instead of sending me back down East to join my people. I don’t just have Ishvalan blood, I look Ishvalan. Never mind the possible hatred I could have had for her, my very presence could undermine the respects our troops had for her.”

They’d long since stopped walking and Miles turned over his shoulder, facing them with a fond, faraway look in his eyes so obvious she could see it behind his glasses. “So one day I asked her. She told me that prejudice on the battlefield only leads to weakness. That no matter what, we can’t afford to lose Briggs, so the troops stationed here must act as one regardless of whatever lines separate us– race, ethnicity, gender, or class. She said my blood wasn’t a disadvantage but something of value since it gave me a unique perspective that she couldn’t replicate.”

“Huh,” Becca remarked, crossing her arms over her chest. “That’s actually… really poignant.” If the major general had actually come to that conclusion, maybe Becca had misjudged her a little as the harsh, unforgiving personification of the northern wall.

Miles, however, cut her off with another laugh. “Don’t worry. I also asked what she’d do if the Ishvalan blood in me couldn’t ignore the Amestrian blood in her, and she told me she’d accept my challenge of a duel any time.”

Or, you know, maybe Becca’s initial assessment hadn’t been that off base.

They all shuddered but, at least, kept moving. 

They walked in silence once more. This time, though, it wasn’t quite as thick. Dare she say, it was edging towards comfortable.

“Speaking of treating people like equals, I didn’t know you had that in you back there, Bex,” Ed said, knocking their shoulders together as they walked.

“Yeah!” Al exclaimed. “What was that? The major general’s so scary and you got right in her face!”

“Well, I didn’t really have a choice,” Becca said, frowning as she recalled the awkward feeling of a tight grip on her shirt collar. “But still, at this point, we have so little to lose and I’m so sick of being treated like we’re just little kids. We’re not and we know it.” She gave Miles an appraising look, daring him to challenge her. “I know we’ve been sheltered and ignorant, but we’re not stupid.”

Miles smirked. “No one thinks you’re stupid. Naive? Yes, probably. For example-”

He held up a hand and there was a sharp crack over their heads. On instinct, Becca grabbed the hood of Ed’s coat and pulled, yanking him backwards a millisecond before a huge icicle crashed down where he’d been standing. The shattering sound rang out through the metal hall, rattling around threateningly like smashed glass.

“The governing law of the Briggs is survival of the fittest,” Miles informed passively. “We’re all judged on the same scale, and those who let their guards down or get too cocky will die. Whether it’s a seasoned major,” he gestured downwards to himself, “or a bunch of newbies. Right then, your trust in your comrades, her instincts, and sheer dumb luck combined and you survived. Without all those factors, that icicle would have skewered you in two.”

Mouth going dry as she forced herself to release the red fabric clenched in her fist, Becca let out a small, “Huh.”

“Whoa…” Ed and Al agreed in unison.

“Wait a second,” Becca said, narrowing her eyes at the major. Miles seemed to get where she was going.

“That’s your job,” he filled in, pointing at a set of large poles abandoned against the wall.

All three of them craned their neck upwards. Sure enough, rows and rows of similarly massive icicles spanned the entire network of insulated pipes above them. From beside her, Ed grumbled, “Great.”

Miles grinned, sharp, expectant, and cool– not quite as frosty as Armstrong or Buccaneer, but amused at their misfortune nonetheless. “Just don’t break any machinery or hit anyone and you’ll be fine.”

Al, of course, had no trouble getting to the ice within reach and knocking it down, making swift progress down the side of the walkway he’d taken over. Becca and Ed had a bit of a harder time, each taking a swing one at a time, but only able to strike the tip of one icicle if they were lucky. Al was halfway down the catwalk by the time Ed grunted frustratedly and tossed his stick aside.

“Come here,” he said.

“What?” Becca asked.

“I’ll boost you up on my shoulders,” Ed said like she was the idiot. “Then we’ll be able to reach!”

For a moment, Becca considered arguing, then decided that that might be a waste of time since Ed would no doubt insist on it anyway and she’d eventually give in because she always did. So, instead, she just sighed and agreed, “Okay. Give me a lift.”

Ed crouched down and cupped his hands behind him as a sort of step and, as soon as she’d barely settled with one thigh on either side of his neck, he was up. The sudden movement ripped an unwilling shriek out of her chest and sent her windmilling forward until she could get a grip on his hair.

“Ow, ow, ow, Bex-”

“Put me down, put me down, put me down,” she said at the same time, white knuckling his bangs.

“Calm down-”

“I don’t wanna do this anymore-”

Fingers digging into her calves, Ed managed to regain his balance. “Bex, Bex, hey. It’s okay.”

“No, no, Ed, you’re gonna drop me-”

“I’m not gonna drop you,” he swore, squeezing her legs comfortingly. “You’re okay, I promise.”

Becca forced herself to take a deep breath, unwinding her fingers and letting her hands fall to his shoulders. “This is not a good idea,” she said.

“It’s fine,” he reassured. “I’m gonna bend down and grab your stick, but I’m not gonna let you fall.”

Her fingers dug into his coat, but she nodded shakily, then realized he couldn’t exactly see her and affirmed, “Okay. Okay. Bend down.” He moved and she squeaked again, then demanded, “Slowly!”

Ed laughed, obliging. He handed her the pole and, although they swayed dangerously, were able to knock down a few icicles without hurting anyone and grew steadier with each attempt (otherwise Becca probably would have demanded to be let down). They were actually making good progress, a bit of light bantering floating between them once she didn’t feel in danger of cracking her skull open.

"Edward, Alphonse, Rebecca? What are you three doing here?"

Again, Becca flailed as Ed whirled around at the familiar voice, his hands coming up to grip her calves just in time to steady her. 

"Warrant Officer Falman?" Al asked, shocked, looking the gray haired man up and down. His red eyes caught on the insignia on his uniform and he amended, "I mean... Second Lieutenant?"

---

Falman, now promoted, filled them in on what had happened since he'd been booted from central, from his original position at northern command to getting reassigned (again) to Briggs. He brushed off any of their concern, though, and insisted he take them on a more official tour. He showed them the research and development laboratories, apparently the hub of wartime innovation, and the warmest place in the forth they'd been so far, the subterranean pipe room.

“This is so different from everywhere else,” Ed said in wonder, undoing the front of his coat. As he shrugged some of it open to allow for more airflow, he bumped his elbow against the pipe in the middle of the long, tall hallway and frowned. “Still fucking huge, though.”

“This is the most important area of the fort,” Falman informed them. “Even if the rest is under attack or in danger, the pipe room is protected and can act as a base of operations, an emergency shelter, and extra storage or bunking space. This-” He patted the pipe affectionately, “is the lifeline of the Briggs.”

“Hey, outta the way!” a gruff engineer ordered, swinging a large toolbox over his shoulder as he hurried by and nearly whacking Becca under the chin before she jerked back.

“Sorry,” she called after him to no reaction.

She watched the workers curiously, tuning Falman and the boys out in favor of listening in on their conversation.

“Can you listen to this? It’s making a weird noise.”

The engineer pressed his ear to the pipe, frowned, and shuffled down until he was on his knees and could press his ear to the ground instead. “It’s not coming from the pipes,” he said, sitting up, scratching at his head. “It’s coming from underground!”

“What?” the first man said incredulously, getting down next to him and copying his motion. His face changed from disbelief to confusion tinged with the slightest bit of… fear? “It sounds like something digging down there!”

“Guys?” Becca mumbled, tugging on the edge of Ed’s jacket. Then, more frantic as the walls began to shake around them, “Guys?!”

Ed turned over his shoulder first, right at the moment that the hard stone underneath the metal walls gave way. There was one final clang of something hitting the metal before it burst open, sending dust exploding through the pipe room.

“Whoa!” Al shouted. One large metal hand clapped onto Becca’s shoulder and tossed her backwards where she collided with Ed and Falman as a monstrous man groaned and dragged himself out of the hole. He lumbered through the dust cloud, angling himself at just the right spot that his exposed shoulder was right in their point of view; more specifically, the comparatively tiny (though it was probably the size of Becca’s hand) ouroboros tattoo splashed across it.

“What the hell? What is a homunculus doing here?” Ed muttered, frustrated. “We haven’t even done anything!”

In all fairness, Becca shrugged and added, “Yet.”

Ed scowled at her, but after Al didn’t say anything to argue with her, grouchily agreed, “Yet.”

The Briggs men had run and begun securing various hatches, shouting instructions so they echoed around, the din so unintelligible that Becca couldn’t make out the individual , but somehow they seemed to be making progress locking down the basement level. Meanwhile, Ed shouldered past Becca, Falman, and Alphonse and waved his arms wildly, drawing the homunculus’ attention, as well as everyone’s who had a spare brain cell not occupied with their assigned tasks

“Hey! Did your father send you?”

“We’re just here to get our bodies back!” Al said insistently.

“Hey,” Becca whispered through her teeth. “Maybe don’t act so casual with the giant monster attacking the fort when everyone’s staring at us.”

No one but Falman knew anything about the homunculi and they surely, and understandably, would think that the newbies conversing in any remotely familiar way with the attacker might not be exactly trustworthy. Becca was ignored since Ed probably didn’t care about what the soldiers thought about him if it meant he was able to save them from this new, unknown danger. Stupid, self-sacrificing, selfless Ed. Heedless of their arising problem, the homunculus let out a long… snore?

Is he sleeping ? Becca thought disbelievingly.

Ed faltered. “You- you go tell that bearded bastard-”

The homunculus cut him off with a long snort and shook himself awake, groaning again as one hand slowly lifted to scratch his head. “Never… heard of you,” he grunted, narrowing his eyes at them. “All I do… is dig the hole. Why? Why do… I… have to work? Don’t care about you… just want to rest…”

“Um…” Ed said, looking a little lost as he glanced at Becca and Al behind him. “Hello?”

“Maybe he actually hasn’t heard of us?” Al leaned forward, whispering conspiratorially, while Becca tried again to get either brother to notice the growing crows of staring onlookers giving them mistrustful looks to no avail. Still, her shoulders tensed as she heard the soldiers murmuring behind their hands: “Familiar…”, “awfully chummy…”, “Drachman spies…”

“So!” Buccaneer’s loud voice echoed through the chamber, making Becca nearly jump out of her skin, metal arm clanging down onto a railing as he descended a set of stairs and stormed towards them. “You are spies!”

For the first time, Ed and Al seemed to realize just how bad this looked, heads swinging in unison back and forth as they looked over the gathered crowd until Buccaneer grabbed them both by the back of their necks, hoisting them up off the ground easily. Becca acted without thinking and lurched forward, pummeling at the captain’s chest as she shouted, “We’re not spies! Put them down!”

“How come you’re so friendly with that intruder?” he demanded.

Ed, kicking wildly in an attempt to free himself, countered, “That’s not our friend!”

Before Buccaneer could shout anything back at them, the homunculus apparently tired of their bickering, moaned, “Quiet…!”, and hurled a large, broken pipe in their direction. Luckily, Buccaneer was forced to drop the Elrics to get out of the way, and Becca was able to scramble in and shove both in the opposite direction. Unluckily, when it came to moving herself, Buccaneer was able to snag her pant leg and effortlessly dragged her back with him, though he at least lost his grip tripping and she was able to gain a healthy distance while he regained his balance.

“Does that look like we’re allies?” she asked sarcastically.

Buccaneer snarled at her, but ultimately turned to his troops and ordered, “Start firing!”

Becca’s eyes widened. “Wait, no-!”

Too late. Everyone in the room was forced to hit the ground after the first wave of bullets ricocheted off of the homunculus’ impenetrable skin.

“Bullets don’t hurt it?” Buccaneer said, visibly shocked.

His panic was not reflected in the homunculus who had just been fired upon. Instead, he began to lumber forwards, wandering, seemingly blindly, until he hit an elevator platform. This would have been fine if he hadn’t also accidentally knocked the operational lever with his closed, chain-encircled fist. Becca was the one to groan this time as the platform shook and started to rise. Buccaneer’s eyes widened and he grabbed her arm in an iron grip.

“You wanna prove you’re not that thing’s ally?” he challenged. She nodded quickly. “Then stop that thing from getting to R & D!”

“Right! Ed, Al, come on!”

“Martin squad, stay put and monitor the hole!” Buccaneer ordered. “There could be more of them!”

The fort shook underneath them as they ran up the stairs, metal clanging under their boots and gunfire echoing around them. Ed grabbed the back of Becca’s jacket and pulled hard , right as they were emerging from the hallway onto the floor of the research and development labs and as the distinctive boom of a bazooka sounded around them. 

“What,” she panted, “the fuck ?!”

“Haven’t you figured out that this whole place is backwards?” Ed retorted.

She rolled her eyes and poked her head out of the hallway, yelling, “Hey! Quit firing! You’re wasting ammo and you’re only going to make him angry!”

She was promptly ignored.

“Boss, it’s no good! Firearms don’t hurt it!” Buccaneer called, shoving them all forward and waving his arms in a clear “cease fire” motion.

Armstrong, wielding the bazooka because of course she was, didn’t let any surprise she may or may not have felt show on her face. Instead, she changed gears at once, calling (Becca couldn’t even call it “shouting”, because she wasn’t shouting. She was so powerful that she didn’t need to shout for her men to obey) for all noncombatants to back off and for alarms to be shut off. “We can’t let those Drachman bastards know there’s a disturbance!”

She thundered down a flight of stairs to the center of the lab, towards a fleet of tanks, exchanging words with one of the men near them.

“I think we should get out of their way,” Al said, tugging both of them by the arms towards a wall.

Just in time, apparently, since Armstrong swung herself into the lead tank and raised her hand. The homunculus groaned, but silence fell over everyone else in the room until she let her arm fall in time with a demand to, “Fire!”

A flurry of missiles collided with the homunculus, and… nothing. There wasn’t so much as a hair out of place on his head. For a brief moment, the army paused again, and then the homunculus lurched forward and Armstrong shouted the order again. And again. And again, to no avail.

Finally, he got irritated and grabbed a stray slab of concrete that one of the artillery shells had blown up, hurling it easily at the Briggs men too quickly for them to flee.

“No!” Ed shouted, dodging Al’s protective swipe, jumping into the fray, and transmuting a wall between the homunculus and the soldiers. “Listen to me!” he said, waving his arms until Armstrong tore her eyes away from their temporarily stalled attacker. “This is no use! He won’t die, no matter how many times you kill him!”

“How do you know so much about it?” Buccaneer said, grabbing Ed by his hood again and yanking him off his feet. Becca and Al dashed forward to try and wrestle him free while Buccaneer shook them all around like it would shake an answer free. “Explain yourself!”

“Stop! You’re not helping anyone!”

“Buccaneer, get off,” Armstrong said. The captain glared, but did as she asked, and she continued, “Explain.”

“I- we know about it because-” Ed stuttered, looking at Becca and Al for help. “Um-”

“Tight lips, hm?” Miles asked.

Armstrong crossed her arms over her chest. “We don’t have time for fools who won’t talk. I need answer and I need them now, so you will answer any questions you can, or you will be spending the rest of your time here in the snow, understand?”

“What?! You can’t do that!”

Becca elbowed Ed in the side and agreed, “Fine.”

“Are you Drachman spies?”

“No!” Al insisted.

Gesturing to the trembling wall, the major general asked, “Is that thing a spy?”

Ed shook his head wildly. “No, it’s not!”

“Does it know you three?”

Becca hesitated, exchanged a look with the boys, and replied, “It seems like he doesn’t?”

“What is that thing?”

All three of them winced. Slowly, Al muttered, “We can’t answer that.”

Smart boy.

“Whose orders is it working under?”

“We can’t answer that,” Ed said.

“Why can’t you answer?” Armstrong demanded, a hint of urgency bleeding through her cool exterior as the transmuted wall shook.

“Try to understand,” Becca ground out through her teeth. “We can’t answer that!”

Finally, understanding flickered behind Armstrong’s eyes and she pressed, “Do you have any desire to help us?”

“We don’t want anyone to get hurt,” Ed said decisively, one of the few honest, earnest sentences they’d spoken that didn’t have to be said in this bizarre code.

She nodded, huffing through her nose. “Tell me what it’s made of.”

“He’s- he’s human-adjacent,” Becca explained. “His body has similar composition, but it’s just… bulkier.”

“That’s one way to say it,” Miles said under his breath.

Armstrong, on the other hand, didn’t bother with sarcasm. Also muttering under her breath, she considered, “Similar composition to that of humans, but won’t die…” Suddenly, she snapped her fingers and pointed at Buccaneer. “Go get fuel. As many tanks as you can. We’re going to douse that thing!”

“Yes, sir!”

“Weren’t you listening?” Ed interjected. “Lighting it on fire won’t kill him!”

“Do you think I’m stupid?” Armstrong snapped, pointing her saber at him threateningly. “I know it won’t kill it, but that’s not the only way to shut it down. I’m going to do something much worse.”

Buccaneer chuckled lowly. “Ready, state alchemists? You’re gonna see how we do things up here.” Becca gulped, and his hand came down heavy on her shoulder, steering her and Ed away and leaving Al to follow behind with a yelp. “And you’re gonna help.”

“Hey, hey, wait a second!” Ed argued.

“If he has allies hidden here, they could report our involvement to the enemy!” Becca added. “We can’t just-”

“You want to help, right?” Buccaneer said, and stupid, self-sacrificing, selfless Ed made an appearance again with a short nod. “Then trust Major Armstrong’s judge of character. Everyone here operates as one heart as well as one mind.”

To be fair, there was something to be said for that. With arguably very few orders, the Briggs soldiers operated flawlessly as one entity. Lab techs had leaped into the action of clearing the room of their most dangerous experiements as soon as they were told to, both efficiently and safely. Armstrong had believed Buccaneer without hesitation when he told her that the homunculus wouldn’t be hurt by their weapons. It would be one thing if she commanded one unit like Mustang’s: a small, tight-knit group who probably knew each other like the back of their hand. A whole army? That was only a credit to just how fierce and how trusted of a leader Armstrong had to be. Despite (or, given how things seemed to run around her, because of) her prickly exterior, there was an undeniable magnetism to the woman that bade others to follow her lead. Whether it was honed or natural, she wasn’t sure, but Becca shuddered a little under Buccaneer’s hand and hoped beyond hope that, once this was all over, they’d still be able to get her on their side. If Bradley got her, they might just have to kiss their country goodbye.

“You’re the only ones who know anything about this monster,” Buccaneer continued, either not noticing or ignoring Becca’s reflection on the circumstances. “So we need your help.”

“A second ago, you were accusing us of being traitors,” Ed countered. “Why are you so sure you can trust us now? Just because we passed some kind of ‘test’ from your leader?”

Buccaneer’s expression went stony. “You, boy, just jumped in to save my comrades by making that wall. That’s good enough for me.”

Then he raised his pistol in one hand and revved up the engine on his automail arm again, swivelling the gun between Ed and Becca, who jumped back at once, and aiming his arm at Alphonse, who shrieked. “Or I could always threaten you into helping us,” he said, a little too cheerily, “if you’d prefer that.”

God, Briggs is the fucking worst. Becca was getting pretty sick of having guns thrust in her face left and right, especially from the likes of Buccaneer, who seemed to be enjoying it a bit too much. At the moment, she was seriously weighing if this was worth putting up with instead of the mess that was Central right now.

“Fine! We’ll help!” she snapped, shoving Buccaneer’s pistol out of her face, then jabbed her finger in his direction said, “Mind you, we’re under duress!”

Unfortunately for the second lieutenant, by shoving Buccaneer away from her, his attention was drawn straight to poor Falman, who’d been standing aside, clearly not quite sure what he was to do.

“You know this guy?” Buccaneer asked, poking Falman.

“Um… yeah?” Ed said.

Buccaneer grinned. “Perfect. He can help too.”

Buccaneer prodded them around the catwalks, gathering any and all tanks of gas from previously collected piles, as well as a few strays the other soldiers had found that weren’t being used elsewhere in the fort, and dumping them in a pile where another few unoccupied privates had gotten stuck combining them into some large barrels, all while banging and shouting continued from the room they’d left behind. Once they’d been filled, Buccaneer hoisted two of the barrels onto his shoulders, shouted at them to grab as much as they could carry, which, for Becca, Ed, and Falman meant barely one each (Becca would have tried to get Ed to just carry one between them if she hadn’t thought that would possibly get them kicked out into the snow).

Al started with only grabbing one until a pair of soldiers tossed another at him and forced him to juggle the two until he could get a decent enough grip and tuck them under his arms. By that time, Buccaneer was already yelling at them to hurry up. Struggling after him under the wake of her barrel, Becca shared an exasperated look with Ed, huffed out an exasperated breath, and went on her exasperated way.

They stopped at a ledge overlooking an entirely new space in the fort, some sort of entryway. If it was better furnished and not metal, Becca might have called it a foyer. As it was, the only important feature seemed to be two doors, one on the right side of the room lined with yellow and black paint and one leading to the outside.

“Wait for my signal,” Buccaneer said, dropping his barrels and running back down the stairs to the main floor without giving any of them a chance to react.

“Wait!” Al protested. “What signal?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be smart? You’ll know it when you hear it!”

The three teenagers turned hopefully to Falman for guidance, who was supposed to have his footing here– either as the only one who was familiar with the Briggs or as the only actual adult left with them– only to see him shrug dejectedly.

“I assume it’ll be pretty obvious,” he squeaked.

“Awesome,” Becca said.

Luckily for them, Buccaneer didn’t seem to be known for subtlety, so when the room began to rumble and he cackled, “Get ready!”, they pried off the tops of each barrel and readied themselved behind them. Among the clattering of metal on metal, the landing they were standing on shook so much that Becca nearly lost her balance, only saved by Ed offering himself as a crutch, placing her hand on his shoulder and allowing her to steady herself before crouching down to hide alongside him. Finally, the door on their right ground open, revealing the interior of a massive elevator.

The homunculus lurched out, looking back and forth, back and forth, struggling to identify his surroundings. The elevator let him out too far away for them to reach by spilling the gasoline, but, when Buccaneer charged forward, it became abundantly clear that that was exactly why he’d left them. With a raging battle cry, he rammed into the homunculus’ side, knocking him right under their overlook.

“Now!” he shouted.

Gritting her teeth, Becca pressed her back against the barrel and dug her heels in until slowly, too slowly, it started to topple. The others followed and gallons of gasoline crashed down onto the homunculus. His low voice rumbled through the room, muttering, confused, about what had just soaked him.

“Now what?” Ed called down. “I already told you, lighting him on fire isn’t going to do any good!”

Buccaneer didn’t get time to answer before the floor trembled again and the elevator door grated open once more. He did, however, have time to smirk at them before Armstrong’s cold voice came, “There better not be any brats in my way, Captain Buccaneer.”

“Of course not, Major General!” Buccaneer said, saluting proudly and stepping out of the main walkway.

“Good God,” Becca said, admittedly a little in awe, as the barrel of a goddamn tank preceded the woman herself out of the elevator, though Becca was very quickly convincing herself that Armstrong wasn’t a mere mortal like the rest of them but a force of nature. The rest of the vehicle followed, commanded by the major general herself sitting atop it. At least two scientists were staffing the thing, bickering loudly enough over the controls that Becca could hear them.

“Shut up!” Armstrong commanded, then, “Fire!”

Becca clapped her hands over her ears as the cannon fired. She felt Ed’s hands on her again, tugging at her coat so she backed away from the unstable railing and sheltering her as Armstrong ordered another round of firing. The shell hit, the homunculus groaned, and something banged against the metal door, followed by a gust of freezing wind rushing through the chamber, tousling their hair, even the stub remaining of Al’s. When they dared to sit up and peek over the fallen barrels, the homunculus had been shoved out onto the outdoor landing. He wheezed, doubled over, but still standing.

“We’re out of ammo, ma’am!” someone inside the tank shouted, muffled. “Should we try and shove it over?”

“They can’t shove him over!” Becca whispered. “It took three tanks to even move him before!”

Falman jerked up, leaning over the rail with eyes narrowed in on something beyond the door. “What about this?”

Quick as a whip, he raised his own pistol and fired.

The bullet sailed over the homunculus’ head. In fact, it drew his attention back to them. Becca and Ed both opened their mouths to chastise him until he pointed to where the bullet had hit: a large icicle hanging above the homunculus’ head.

“Oh…” all three teens said in unison, cocking their heads as the roaring wind made the icicle quiver. It swayed once, twice, and, with one more good rush, fell, shattering over the homunculus’ head and disorienting him just enough that, when the tank collided with him, he rocked backwards, swayed, and finally, finally, plummeted through the snow blowing around and down to the ground below.

“Whoa!” Ed said, running down to the main floor. Becca and Al followed, then, after a vague protest, Falman trailed after them. They leaned over the outdoor barrier, staring at the homunculus who was already staring up at them. Voice significantly quieter, Ed queried, “What’s happening to him?”

“That fuel is specially made for cold temperatures,” Buccaneer explained. “Combined with the blizzard, it totally sapped all of his body heat. In a few moments, he’ll be frozen down to his brain.”

Sure enough, the homunculus took a long, shuddering gasp, exhaled a foggy breath, and went limp. Becca cringed.

“Hibernate there until spring, you slug,” Armstrong said from her perch on the tank. Icy blue eyes fell on their group and, as one, they leaned away. “Now, as for you…”

Chapter 44: lacuna

Notes:

hellooo, my dears!

thank you so much for being so understanding last week when i just added onto the last chapter as an update :))))) it really means a lot, and i promise i am steadily making some mental health improvements so i can get back into my productive mindset. the only thing that may impede the next update is i'm in the final stretch of school and most of my classes have final papers rather than tests so that means i won't be able to devote as much time to pleasure writing, but i promise to at least get a one shot out if i can't finish a chapter.

i actually really like this chapter, more than i thought i would! armstrong is really fun, and i've found i like writing her, especially in contrast/interacting with becca. i think they're both sort of foils to each other. next chapter is scheduled to have some serious tea, get ready for it, friends.

lacuna (noun)- a blank space, a missing piece

Chapter Text

Military service had never been a walk in the park, and Becca never pretended to think it would be. Sometimes, however, the military did allow them to travel to extraordinary places. There was Liore, which was hot, but beautiful in a way, before the Father Cornello thing. A few times, they’d been south, full of rolling hills and crystal clear waters, then they’d gotten kidnapped once while down there. The one time they’d travelled westward to the picturesque Table City, it had been a gorgeous setting up until they had a little… incident out there too.

Point being that maybe she should have predicted that the Briggs, with it’s pristine, oddly scenic white snow and mountains nearby, would inevitably turn sour.

Before they’d even had time to celebrate the defeat of this mystery homunculus, Buccaneer was prodding them with his gun and ordering for the soldiers running around them to restrain them.

Oh, right.

Duress.

“Is this really necessary?” Ed asked pointedly, shaking his wrists at Armstrong and subsequently yanking both Al, Becca, and Falman forward as well, much to their verbal chagrin and via the rope that had been wound around all four of their restrained arms and waists because of course, any normal person would think that was the next course of action. “Oops, sorry, guys.”

Worse still, the major general couldn’t even be bothered to hold the rope herself, leaving them in Buccaneer’s hands, who looked far too pleased with himself over the situation. She wouldn’t be surprised if he was the one who had proposed the idea while they weren’t looking.

“If you want to give off the impression that you’re only working with us under duress, yes, it is,” the major general said coolly.

“I thought you said everyone here was on the same side,” Becca muttered.

“And,” Armstrong continued over her, “this is the first time in twenty years an intruder has made it past our defenses and I’m not just going to let you wander free until I get to the bottom of this disgrace.”

“Twenty years?” Al asked, incredulous.

Armstrong waved her hand dismissively. “Yes. A woman attacked a few times and stole supplies over the course of a month, then suddenly stopped and we haven’t had an incident since. And either way, that was before I came into leadership. I will not let news of this get out, ruin my reputation, and put us all in danger by giving Drachma any indication that we’re flustered.”

“Teacher…” Ed and Al breathed in unison until Becca stomped on Ed’s foot.

Luckily no one seemed to notice, too busy swarming around like bees as Armstrong dictated new responsibilities– repairing broken machines, cleaning everything that had been displaced, and checking in on statuses throughout the fort. One soldier ran up and whispered in her ear, wide eyes darting towards them, and Armstrong gave them a suspicious glare. More specifically, she glared at Becca, who leaned as far away from her as she could. Gesturing for Miles, she murmured something to him and he nodded, then jogged after the soldier.

“And you all,” she said demandingly, pointing to the hole, “are coming with us.”

“Major General!” Buccaneer protested.

“But-”

“Wha-”

“We’ll dragging them along,” she said, leaving no room for argument from any of them, then, to the room in general, “Get us horses as well!”

“...Yes, ma’am.”

They stood by as a few of the scientists constructed a makeshift pulley system (Becca considered insisting she was untied in order to simply transmute it, but she figured that would be a waste of breath and didn’t bother) and gathered enough horses for all of them. The animals got lowered down first via slings, saddlebags filled to the brim with supplies. Armstrong had only requested the horses, and yet they’d anticipated their needs nonetheless. Once again, Becca begrudgingly had to admit that the Briggs soldiers really were a well-oiled machine. A machine that was currently working against them.

“Whoa!” Falman said, more to himself than any of them as a team lowered him first into the hole. They watched his flashlight darting around and around, spinning and taking in information before he even got his boots on the ground. Soon enough, the rope went slack and Becca stepped forward.

“Let's get this over with.”

Once everyone– Ed and Al, Falman, Becca, Armstrong, and Buccaneer– made it down, they looked down the tunnel the homculus one way, then the other, shining flashlights back and forth to no avail.

“So… how far do you think it goes?” Falman asked meekly.

 Buccaneer easily hoisted them onto their own horses, then took the one in the lead, allowing Armstrong the animal at the end of the line to keep an eye on them from the back. For her part, Becca had never been on a horse before and maybe it was the underground tunnel, or the company, or the fact that her hands were tied, but this experience wasn’t exactly making her eager to do it again.

No matter how far they rode, the tunnel didn’t show any signs of stopping. In fact, it didn’t even seem to turn, going almost straight west. It definitely didn’t turn northwards to Drachma.

“This is far enough,” Armstrong said suddenly. Buccaneer pulled his horse to a stop immediately, which of course caused the rest of theirs to run into each other, whinnying, tossing their heads, and nearly bucking up. Becca dug her fingers into her mount’s mane, gut lurching. In front of her, Ed nearly toppled off his horse, and Al instinctively cried out at the sudden movement from behind her, and Buccaneer only laughed at them. Armstrong, as what she imagined was the usual, didn’t seem to flinch. “Get off.”

Perfect, Becca thought spitefully, struggling to swing herself down and stumbling once she actually managed to do so. “There’s nothing here. ‘Cept rocks. Dirt,” she said, looking around. She kicked a piece of rubble and watched it bitterly as it hit the wall and bounce, bounce, bounced right to the tip of Armstrong’s boot. Then her eyes flicked up to the woman’s face and raised a challenging eyebrow. “More rocks.”

Armstrong gave her an unimpressed look. “Nothing,” she agreed. “Including no way for anyone to hear us talking. Therefore you can tell us everything.”

Stepping forward, Buccaneer dragged the blade on his automail arm across their huddled group, setting all four free. Becca blinked. She looked over at Ed and Al, only to see her own confusion reflected back, and blinked again. “...What?”

“During the attack, you said ‘we can’t answer that’, despite the fact that I assume you know that I could cut you down for disobedience and that you thought you could trust me. I assume that means there’s something you’re protecting, that you want me to understand.” Armstrong gestured around them. To the empty, silent darkness surrounding them in every direction. Slowly, gears started to turn in Becca’s head and she turned back to the major general, one side of her mouth twitching up in a reluctant, acknowledging smirk. Armstrong lowered her head, icy gaze heating up with pride. “So go on. Tell me everything.”

Armstrong was a character. She and most of her cohorts were brash, and merciless, and cold, and borderline cruel. However, they were also survivors, tough, and adaptive, and ready to put their lives on the line for their fellow soldier. Armstrong herself was smart as a whip and a fiery, powerful leader. Becca herself had thought just a few hours ago how insanely beneficial it would be to have her and the rest of the Briggs on their side.

But, God, how their “devil may care” attitude towards humanity and kindness grated on her. How she so wanted to brush off this barely identifiable olive branch.

Ed opened his mouth, then hesitated. He looked to his brother, who nodded, then Becca, who rolled her eyes, then did the same. “Major General Armstrong,” he said seriously. “We need your help.”

“If you want my help, you better be worthy of it,” she said, grin sharpening.

Ed ended up talking the most, with Becca and Al interjecting whenever they thought it was necessary. Falman helped to explain as much as he could, but they had to catch him up to speed too.

“Philsopher’s Stones, homunculi, King Bradley, this… “Father”, and corruption in the military’s upper ranks,” Armstrong said thoughtfully. She’d sat down on a rock sometime through their word vomit recounting of pretty much the last several years of their lives, using her sabre as a sort of cane and tapping on it with one gloved finger. As one, Becca, Al, Ed, and Falman all nodded, just happy that she got it and seemed to believe them. She surveyed them one by one and continued, “And hostages. Your friend,” she said to the Elrics, “your brother,” she said to Becca, “and Mustang’s subordinate.”

“We’ve trained with some of those soldiers,” Buccaneer said.

“Indeed. It would be a shame to lose Hawkeye and Havoc.”

Falman waited for a second and, when she didn’t say anything more, asked, “And Colonel Mustang?”

“Oh, right,” Armstrong said, lips twisting in displeasure at the mention of the man’s name. “I don’t really give a shit about him. His downfall would mean one less obstacle in my way.”

Becca bit her lip, torn between laughing and arguing with her about Mustang. They’d just reached a good place in their relationship, but, well… it was always nice to see someone to rival him while not actively wanting him dead. He had to be kept on his toes.

The second lieutenant winced, but didn’t fight with her. With Mustang back in Central, they had more pressing issues at hand. “Still,” he said. “How cowardly could they be, to take an innocent girl hostage!”

Shrugging, Armstrong replied, “They’re effective. I’d probably do the same thing.”

Becca sighed to herself and tacked a mental tally mark onto the “Reasons that maybe having Armstrong on our side isn’t a good idea after all” list she didn’t realize she’d started.

“Anyways,” she kept on, “the important thing now is figuring out what to do next. Alchemists?”

Ed, Al, and Becca all straightened to attention.

“What are your thoughts on this tunnel?”

“I- um- I actually have some thoughts on that,” Ed said, stepping out of the line they’d shuffled into under Armstrong’s scrutiny. He turned to Falman. “Do you have a map?”

Falman jolted in surprise, but patted around his uniform coat. “I do. Of what?”

“All of Amestris, if you have it.”

He obliged, pulling out a large map he’d found in a chest pocket. As the image of their country unfolded and took shape, Becca suddenly remembered the realization they’d come to in Gluttony’s stomach. “Oh…”

Ed nodded.

Her shoulders sagged. “Right. Can we have a compass too, please?”

Armstrong rifled through a saddlebag for the tool and passed it over as they scrounged around for loose rocks to wight down the corners of the map. Pointing slightly right of the spot demarking the fort at Briggs, Ed asked, “We’re about here, right?”

“About,” Armstrong affirmed.

First, Ed closed his eyes, centering himself. Becca followed suit. Like they had when they’d combined energies to escape Gluttony, he reached over and clasped her hand in his, allowing his power to mingle ever so slightly with hers as they let the energies of the universe flow around them rather than attempt to redirect them as they normally did. The disruption in the earth twisted. Gradually, over miles and miles, like Becca had just barely been able to detect, it turned inwards on their own land.

“Just like I thought. This doesn’t go towards Drachma,” he said.

She hummed in agreeance. “Not in the slightest.”

They opened their eyes and drew away from each other, facing the others. Awareness had dawned on Al too, visible in the tightness in his shoulders. Falman was more in dark, but seemed uneasy, and even Armstrong and Buccaneer looked wary.

“This forms a circle,” Ed explained, “not a tunnel to anywhere.”

“A circle? Why would someone dig a circle?”

“In alchemy, a circle is a conduit of power,” Becca said. “Literally as well as symbolically. So we know there’s a circle, but then we have to fill in the equation. Lucky-” She winced, then exchanged glances with Ed and Al, then amended, “or maybe not so lucky… but either way, we already know that side of it, right?”

“Exactly,” Ed said, taking out a pen and crouching next to the map. “Second Lieutenant, can you list off all the major conflicts in Amestrian history?”

Falman audibly gulped. “Ah. Yes. Of course.”

He began with Riviere, almost 400 years ago. A revolution in 1661. Various “incidents”, wars, battles, including Ishval and- “The Liore Riots a few months ago.”

“Wait, huh?” Becca and Al said in unison. Ed, busy scrawling dots over the areas he named, took a few more seconds to respond, but jerked his head up after moving his pen over the city they’d visited.

“What? Liore?”

“There were mass casualties after that priest was exposed,” Falman said gravely.

Becca opened her mouth a few times, but couldn’t find anything to say. Liore had been- well, conflict had been brewing when they’d gotten the hell out of Dodge, but it had never crossed her mind that something seriously huge had happened. How had they not heard about a massive conflict? How had the military kept it quiet?

“But- but we reported it to Eastern HQ right away!” Ed said. “To Mustang ! He would never-”

Always quick to the gun, Falman covered, “Oh, no, no, no! Mustang reported it straight to General Grumman and he mobilized Eastern troops to monitor the situation. But then Central soldiers came in and mucked everything up-” He stopped, slowly sinking in on himself. “-Probably intentionally. They ignored the infighting after we were dismissed. They allowed it to continue.”

“Keep your head on straight, Second Lieutenant,” Armstrong barked. “Keep working.”

Scowling, Ed dotted the Liore marker and mumbled, “Now we connect everything together and…”

The air around them seemed to thicken as they all took in the circle that had formed on the map before them. Of course, it wasn’t a surprise, but it was one thing to suspect. Seeing the circle meant to create Philosopher’s Stones drawn over Amestris was much worse.

“It’s true,” she whispered breathlessly. 

“How- how can this be?” Falman said. “That- how many people would die to create a Philosopher’s Stone with this?”

“But that can’t be it,” Ed said before he could stop himself. Becca nudged him pointedly with her boot. “Ouch! I just mean- well, we already knew that. But they keep mentioning human sacrifices and I can’t figure out why! So there has to be a piece we’re still missing.”

Edge of her boot still in his ribcage, Becca paused. Okay, in fairness, he might be right about that. She scanned the map back and forth, trying to connect even more dots. Dots that, frustratingly, weren’t there.

Until all of a sudden, they were.

“The conflict in Riviere,” she said hurriedly. “That was… what, a few months after Amestris was founded, right?”

“Um… yes, I believe so,” Falman said.

“And the Wellesley incident, who was involved in that?”

“It was between a Cretan tribe and the Amestrian government.”

She studied each point on the circle, recalling the grueling history readings she’d done when she was a bored child spread out on the floor of her father’s library. “That’s it.”

“Bex?” Ed prompted. “What are you thinking?”

“We’re the common denominator,” she said, motioning to everyone in their little circle. “The military has been involved in every single conflict. It’s been like this since day one. Since Amestris began. We started a small territory, but we waged wars in every direction for the purpose of expanding our borders-”

“-Just enough to fit this circle,” Armstrong cut in.

“Exactly. Which means that they haven’t been using Amestris,” Becca finished, disgust rising in her tone. “They created it.” Pointing down at the map, at the circle, she clarified, “For this.”

“So the military being in charge, that’s all according to their plan?” Buccaneer asked in horror.

Armstrong grimaced. Unlike the rest of them, outwardly, she was more angry than surprised. “Everything has been according to their plan. Every damn thing this country has ever done was planned.”

“This is a game to them,” Falman surmised.

“And Mr. Hughes,” Al said sadly. “He-”

“Uh-huh,” Ed muttered. “That’s what he must have found before he-” He swallowed, blinking back tears. They hadn’t understood Hughes’ notes at the time, but they, like everything else, was slowly becoming clearer. “When those bastards killed him.”

Armstrong’s blade pierced the map right at the Briggs mountains. “According to this, the only area left is my fort. My men are the next to be massacred.” In a rare display of emotion, she banged the tip of her weapon against the map a few more times for emphasis, demanding, “What the hell do they think they’re going to do to my base?”

Nothing good, Becca was about to say. Before she could, though, there was the distinctive, muffled clip, clop, clip, clop, of hooves on the dirt beneath them. They all went silent. Falman, in a bout of quick thinking, grabbed the map and refolded it, hiding it away.

“Major General!” an officer called urgently as he rode into their circle of light. He didn’t bother looking around, focused on Armstrong. Something had happened in the short time they were away. “They need you back at base! Right now!”

“What happened?” Buccaneer asked, a hint of worry invading his normally gruff demeanor. Becca wondered if the immoveable forces of the north could remain unshaken by this discovery and the realization of what they were going to face any day now.

“Lieutenant General Raven arrived from Central!”

Buccaneer frowned. “Why on Earth…?”

Cocking a hand on her hip, Armstrong grumbled, “They aren’t going to give us a minute to regroup, are they?”

“Major General Armstrong?” Ed asked, drawing all of their attentions back to him. Becca recognized the hint of a plan forming in his eyes, so she backed off, giving him the spotlight. “I have an idea, but- but you’re the only one who can pull it off. I’m putting my trust, the fate of this country, and all of our lives in your hands, if you think you’re up to it.”

“Do I seem like I’ve never not been up for anything?” Armstrong asked sardonically.

Ed exhaled sharply, almost a laugh but not quite reaching that threshold. “I guess not. But still… would you be willing to con Lieutenant General Raven?”

“This is familiar, isn’t it?” Becca said rhetorically. Ed’s booted foot swung at her as he flailed in the air from inside the vent she was feeding a wire through, though she wasn’t sure if the action was truly unintentional. Still, she ducked out of the way while Falman grunted underneath him and gave him one more boost until he was able to fully wiggle inside. “Reminds me of a priest I once knew,” she remarked.

“Can it, Bex,” Ed said, voice echoing back through the vent as he army crawled on, the wire looped neatly around Al’s arm steadily unraveling in his path. Becca shot Alphonse a small smile as he giggled, despite everything. When the wire went taut, they all looked up right as Ed shuffled backwards and dropped back down to the floor.

“Is everything ready?” Buccaneer asked impatiently.

“They better be,” Ed said, shrugging. “Armstrong and Raven were coming into the room as I left, so there’s no time to fix it.”

Falman scooted them all out of the way as gently as possible, then started fiddling around with knobs on a radio they’d set up. “I’m no Fuery, but if I hit here… here… and here, then we should be able to…”

“It was concerning to think that two State Alchemists might be spies for Drachma, so I took them into custody,” Armstrong’s voice crackled over the speaker. Falman grinned, and he and Al high-fived, cheering quietly until they were shushed by the others. “You can interrogate them after we’re finished here, if you’d like.”

“Hm, I think I would,” came Raven’s deeper voice. “Have you gotten anything out of them?”

“No,” Armstrong said, her tone shifting ever so slightly to a lighter, more feminine version of itself. “They’ve kept their mouths shut about that horrible monster. I considering torturing them under suspiscion of treason, but…” She paused, then took in a delicate shallow breath, “After all, they are just children. My woman’s heart just couldn’t bear it.”

Buccaneer burst out laughing. “Yeah, right! If she thought it’d get her anywhere, she’d tortue you without a second thought!”

Rolling her eyes, Becca added, “That’s reassuring.”

Still, she should be getting into the good stuff, she thought, rocking forward as if getting closer to the radio would make this interaction move any faster.

Raven chuckled the same over-dignified chuckle that all of the upper-brass seemed to have perfected and joked, “So even the Iron Wall of Briggs has a soft spot for children.”

“It wouldn’t be unusual for me to have one or two… bouncing around by now, would it?” Becca cringed at the awkwardness in that remark, but Armstrong plowed on. “Oh, well. I suppose I’ve just missed my chance.” Lieutenant General Raven commented on how men must be anxious to-

Well, Becca mimicked vomiting at the particular phrasing he chose to use, Ed wrinkled his nose, and even Falman looked visibly uncomfortable, but his point got across.

Damn military boys talk.

“Ah, that’s- that’s not it, sir,” Armstrong continued, as unphased as she could be. “I can just feel the years taking their toll, you know?”

She let the prompt hang in the air for a few moments and they swore they could have sensed the thick tension through the radio. Becca couldn’t imagine what the air in the actual meeting room next door felt like for the major general, the key mechanism to this whole scheme. If she couldn’t pull this off, then this whole idea would fall apart in seconds and they’d have nothing.

Lieutenant General Raven grunted agreeably, but didn’t add anything. And so Armstrong had to keep prodding.

“I fear aging out of my usefulness. That weapon from Drachma, though… it was incredible. Resilient. Adaptable. Why, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say it was immortal .”

That was the bait word. If Raven didn’t rise to it or didn’t notice, then-

“What if I were to tell you that that was on it’s way to becoming reality?”

Or they didn’t have to worry about the “ifs” because the lieutenant general was going to play right into their trap, no questions asked. Becca could barely bite back a smile. Still, she reached over, crushing Ed’s hand in hers in excitement. He squeezed back, not even bothering to hide his proud smirk when she looked over at him. It worked! They were going to get him, they had to!

“Imagine,” Raven said, clueless to all of them listening in to the revelation, “an entire immortal army.”

Chapter 45: laconic

Notes:

what is happening, my dears?

an update that's not obscenely late? insane!

for real for real though, its finally happening-- reintroducing my fav <3 and also getting into my fav part, get psyched!

i'm almost into summer so i'm hoping to get more into this once i finish moving out and back into my parents house. i'm working, but i'm trying to keep some of my days semi open.

laconic (adjective)- expressing much in few words

Chapter Text

For a second, Becca worried that Raven was simply indulging her because he’d caught on and this was one of those villain monologues that always happened in stories where they bragged about their entire plan moments before attacking. But no, it seemed like he really was that pompous and sure of himself, or maybe just stupid. As Armstrong pressed smoothly on and on, he detailed even further, culminating in him prompting a yes or no answer.

“You’re either in or you’re out,” he said.

Armstrong hesitated. On the other end, they all leaned closer as she inhaled to respond, then jerked back when a loud bang echoed from both the speaker and the room next door.

“Sorry to interrupt!” panted a new man. “It’s an emergency with the tunnel- the scouts we sent in- something’s happened!”

“No!” Ed hissed. “Don’t mention the tunnel!”

“Tunnel?” Raven asked, his chair scraping against the floor. “Scouts?

Perhaps predictably, Armstrong ignored him. When it came to her men, Becca was quickly learning, she had high expectations balanced out with a high degree of trust and some bit of fondness, so she would drop everything for them in return. “Of course. I’ll investigate myself. Lieutenant General, care to join me?”

“Oh- ah- yes, of course!” Raven replied hastily, his voice growing fainted as the door slammed in the other room.

They sat in silence for a few moments, a bit in shock at how quickly the conversation had ended, until Buccaneer jumped to his feet like he’d been burned.

“We’ve got to move,” he said, prodding at them. “You’re supposed to be in a jail cell right now and who knows how long Raven will get kept up by the tunnel. Let’s move.”

“Right,” Ed said after he flicked the radio off. He pushed himself up from where he’d crouched, then paused. “Wait a second. What if someone sees us?”

Buccaneer had apparently already thought about that possibility, grinning excitedly as he picked up the ropes from before, and Ed’s face fell.

“Great.”

Well, at least Falman didn’t have to be tied up this time. Good for him. Instead, he held Al’s rope while Buccaneer kept a hand on Becca and Ed, but allowed them to lead the way down the hall. They managed to get most of the way to the main cell area without major incident.

At least until they hustled through one of the side hallways at the same time three figures rounded the opposite corner and Becca’s heart dropped into her gut.

“Oh, my god,” she mumbled, ducking behind Ed as much as she was able. “Hide me.”

Ed had looked up as soon as she flinched and hissed through his teeth. “What is he doing here?”

“What- oh,” Al said suddenly, drawing to a halt.

“What’s wrong with you?” Buccaneer whispered harshly, jabbing his finger into their backs. “Move it!”

Becca, however, had frozen the moment her eyes met Will’s over Ed’s shoulder and no amount of poking would get her to move. He had stopped in his tracks as well, not that that was any consolation.

Her brother was able to recover faster, catching up to the other members of his trio before she could move.

“Buccaneer, what’s this?” Miles asked, approaching the captain with a barely-detectable undertone of uneasiness, his white-suited companion and Will trailing after him. Becca tore her gaze away from Will, screwing it on her boots instead, though she could still feel his stern blue eyes burning holes in the top of her head. Shifting ever so slightly between them, Ed gently shouldered her back half of a step and forced Will to look at him instead, giving her a moment to breathe. For a brief moment, a twinge of annoyance rose at the protective nature– what kind of alchemist was she if she couldn’t deal with Will’s mere appearance ? – before she remembered his words whilst they were trapped inside Gluttony.

“It worries me that you still feel like you can’t talk to me after everything we’ve been through, even though I’ve only ever tried to help you!”

Ah, right. She was trying to get better at accepting help. So instead, she leaned forward just barely, bumping her head affectionately against his shoulder rather than a verbal thank you . He seemed to understand anyway. Then, she forced her head up and forced herself to tune back into the conversation.

“I’ve been ordered to transport the prisoners from the interrogation room back to their cells,” Buccaneer fibbed easily. “And these two are…?”

“Solf J. Kimblee,” Miles introduced and Becca’s head snapped to the man in white she’d ignored in favor of Will. Sure enough, there he was, large as life, the face from her father’s old war pictures. The Crimson Lotus Alchemist. He smiled at them, somehow inherently slimy-looking, only to receive suspicious, deadpan looks in response. Miles continued, “General Raven’s guest, and William Harper, the Taloned Alchemist his escort.”

“Escort?” Ed said incredulously.

“Harper?” Buccaneer echoed, raising one thick eyebrow at her. 

Becca simply nodded to affirm his unasked question. She didn’t have the energy to explain further than, “My brother.”

“Hi… Sister,” Will said like he wasn’t quite sure if he was allowed to greet her at all. He sounded more hesitant than he had in any of their fights before. Becca said nothing.

An awkward silence descended over their entire group, as no one seemed to know what the next step of this precarious interaction should be. Kimblee, however, wasn’t phased and instead smiled as kindly as he could manage at them, though Becca personally thought it looked more like he was sucking on a lemon.

“Oh, the younger Harper?” he said interestedly. “The Illusion Alchemist, right? And that makes you boys the Elric brothers.”

It was Ed and Al’s turn to nod, and Kimblee’s smile grew wider, though it still didn’t reach his eyes. “So you must be the Fullmetal Alchemist!” he said, delighted. To Al. “You fit your alias perfectly, sir!”

Al squeaked, then pointed over at Ed, who, for once, didn’t bother to rage at him, instead just rolling his eyes and grumbling something under his breath.

“Ah, my apologies. Still, it’s good to meet you, Fullmetal.” He offered his hand, then withdrew it with a small, unmistakably mocking, “Oh,” upon seeing his restraints.

Ed said nothing, but momentarily took his eyes off of Will to shoot him a baleful glare.

Poking them in the back once again, Buccaneer instructed, “Alright, enough socializing. Move it, runts.”

They were locked back up in the Briggs holding cells. Buccaneer murmured that he was going to meet up with Armstrong, then left them with a single pair of guards standing down the hall. He’d at least put them in the same cell, so Ed and Becca were able to curl together sitting against one wall to share warmth, though nobody had much to say. They were only for about half an hour, though, when Lieutenant General Raven made his way down to speak with them, dismissing the guards along the way.

The old general seemed none the wiser to the fact that he had played, and was continuing to play, right into their trap. He introduced himself, then, more sinisterly, informed them, “The president has told me a lot about you.”

He didn’t get a reply, but that didn’t seem to rattle him, prattling on about how their compliance was part of “the bigger picture” and “the greater good” and how they should be honored. Becca, frankly at the end of her rope, only rolled her eyes. Maybe Raven had been lied to or maybe he was just foolish, but it didn’t seem like the homunculi and their father would be very interested in the greater good. They had to fake panic and shock when Raven bragged how the Briggs men would allow the homunculus to continue his work and fill the hole, given that Buccaneer had heavily encouraged them to transmute a separate entrance. 

Finally, after much taunting and pompousness that Becca could feel Ed starting to get sick of, his muscles tightening underneath her, Raven took his leave with a non-committal point about getting them out whenever he could.

Ed scoffed as the click of his boots faded down the hallway. “Whenever he gets around to it, more like.” He waved down a passing figure, who Becca quickly recognized as one of the mechanics from the medical wing.

“What’s up, kids?” the mechanic– Neil, she remembered someone calling him– asked, smirking.

“I don’t suppose you have a more specific timeline for our release, do you?” Becca prompted, crossing her arms over her chest.

The mechanic grinned. “Soon.”

“Any word on the little girl with the panda?” Al asked hopefully.

“Don’t worry, they’re still looking. I know it’s a pain,” he attempted to soothe, handing two cups of coffee through the cell bars, “but you’ve gotta be patient so you can be ready to move when everything comes together.”

Ed grunted, sipping the drink then gagging at the taste. “I just hate sitting still when there’s so much going on.”

“Oh, I hear you,” Neil said. He held out his hand through the bars. “That’ll be 100 cenz.”

“I hate it here,” Becca remarked for the nth time, placing her untouched drink back into his palm in place of the money while Ed spat his singular sip out and tossed the cup unceremoniously at his feet. “Listen, can you please just tell someone that we need to get out of here-”

“No need for that, Miss Harper, we’re already here.”

Neil shot them a meaningful look, then scurried away, leaving them with-

“Goddammit,” Ed groaned, slumping against the wall while Kimblee’s sleek white form stepped into the light. He tipped his hat in greeting at them, not that anyone responded in kind, and Ed asked, “And don’t tell me, you brought-”

“Rebecca,” Will started before Ed cut him off.

“That’s what I thought. Great.”

“Aw, Fullmetal. With that tone, I’d almost think you didn’t like us,” Kimblee said, overly (and, Becca had to assume, uncharacteristically) saccharine, then wrapped an arm around Will, tugging close him to his side even as Becca’s brother made a face and leaned away. They stepped aside, allowing one more person into their field of vision. “I had hoped a visitor might cheer you up.”

As she smiled appreciatively at Kimblee, Winry nodded in acknowledgement to Will, then turned to the three of them, who choked in surprise, shock, and maybe just a hint of fear. Winry, however, seemed oblivious, even as everything else– Kimblee’s scheming, Will’s very presence, the homunculus in the hole– faded away in favor of that fear for what had brought her here. “Edward Elric!” she scolded. “Why the hell didn’t you tell me you were going north, you moron? And why are you in jail?”

“Winry!” Ed yelped. “What are you doing here?”

“What do you mean ‘what am I doing here’? I’m here to save your ass!”

“I never asked you for that!”

“The military told me you came here without proper automail so I put everything else on hold and this is the thanks I get-”

“Winry,” Becca interjected placatingly before the two could disturb the whole fort, “we’re not not happy that you’re here, we’re just… surprised. We weren’t expecting you.” Gesturing around the cell, she added, “Evidently.”

Kimblee laid a hand on Winry’s shoulder. To her, it was probably reassuring, given how she took a deep breath and let some of the tension drain out of her body. To Becca, Ed, and Al, it was a clear threat, and Kimblee clearly saw the realization in their eyes, tilting his head innocently. “Don’t be upset with her. I arranged this when I heard you hadn’t been able to switch to a cold-weather model.” He squeezed her shoulder and Becca flinched. “The president was deeply concerned when I told him and he made sure to get Miss Rockbell up here as quickly as possible. He’s been very concerned about you all.”

The president, she thought bitterly, shrinking in on herself and further into Ed’s side on the floor.

Wrapping his arm around her, Ed grumbled, “Someone still should have told us you were coming.”

“You should have told me you were coming here,” Winry chastised again once they’d moved into a spare room in the medical wing so she could work on attaching the new modified limbs. They’d done his leg basically in awkward silence until Winry moved up by his head and broke it.

Laying flat on his back, automail arm splayed out on a low workbench next to him and flesh draped over the other edge, Ed rolled his eyes and snarked back, “We were in a hurry.”

“When are you not in a hurry?” Winry said, sighing and puncuating it with a particularly rough tug on her wrench. Ed cringed, but stubbornly didn’t make a sound, so Winry went on, “What did you guys do to get locked up anyway?”

Al and Becca, crouched against a wall and having pulled a chair up next to Ed’s cot respectively, shared a look over the top of Ed’s head. Al was the one to answer since Becca couldn’t manage to unclench her jaw with Will still standing post at the door. “Well, um… it’s complicated.”

“It’s only a misunderstanding,” Kimblee said. “I’ll work on the paperwork to ensure their release as soon as we finish here.” 

Winry, good and kind and trusting as she should be, as Becca wished she could stay forever, beamed at him. “That’s really reassuring, Mr. Kimblee. Thank you.”

He flashed a charming smile at Winry, patting Al on the head. “I don’t mind watching out for them.”

“Win,” Ed said lowly, tilting his head ever so slightly. Winry leaned over, pretending to adjust his position on the bed and blocking his mouth from Kimblee and Will’s sight. Becca reached down distractedly, taking Ed’s hand. She heard him warn, “You can’t trust Kimblee too much.”

“Why? He’s only been a gentleman.” Even as she protested, Winry kept her voice quiet, at least trusting Ed enough to hear him out. Becca kept her eyes forward like they weren’t talking at all. Will was staring right back at her, she knew it, but she pointedly eyed the spot right over his shoulder.

“You don’t know what he did in Ishval,” Ed continued.

Winry hummed noncommittally as she sat back into her stool, blue eyes flashing over her shoulder. Still, she shifted slightly, turning a few degrees so Kimblee wasn’t quite at her back anymore. Will raised an eyebrow and Becca flinched at the movement (she tried to tell herself she hadn’t been watching him– she hadn’t, she’d been watching his general area in case he made any sudden move). She looked away, moving instead to basically stare a hole into her lap where her hand rested clasping Ed’s so he didn’t instinctively lurch while Winry worked.

Suddenly, Ed’s hand flexed, gripping her hand a little tighter. For a moment, she thought he was in pain, but when she looked at his face, he wasn’t even gritting his teeth. Instead, he was studying her. When he noticed her looking, he whispered, “You’re fine. We won’t let anything happens if he tries.”

Becca tried to smile, and, though she was only able to give him a small one, it seemed to be enough. He smiled in response, and she tried to relax, tensing up her shoulders before letting them sag in time with one long exhale, tilting her head back along with it. Winry giggled and Ed squeaked, and when Becca opened one eye to check on him, he flushed bright red and looked away. Unless Becca’s ears were mistaken, he also started reciting the periodic table under his breath. Winry burst out laughing, probably having done something to freak him out and make him spiral like this. Becca chuckled indulgently, thumb rubbing small circles into the back of his hand to calm him down. Will narrowed his eyes across the room at them.

“Quit being such a,” Winry forcefully twisted her wrench, connecting the nerves in his arm in one fell swoop, “wimp.”

Interrupted, Ed shouted in pain, then yelled, “What the hell, Winry? You’re supposed to warn me before you connect them-”

“C’mon, stand up,” Winry aid, prodding his side and ignoring his displeasure. “Test them out.”

Pouting indignantly, Ed did as she said with an arm of assistance from Becca while steadying himself. Once it was clear he was good on his own, she sat back in her chair, observing and ready to hop to her feet if needed. He took a few wobbly steps, swinging his arm back and forth. “It feels… weird. Lighter. Are they less durable?”

“Just a little,” Winry said frankly. “I could add a guard if you want, but overall, its key features are strengthened and the alloy doesn’t freeze to you and cause frostbite, so it’s generally regarded as a fair trade.”

“Finally upgrading, huh? You couldn’t have done that in your cell?” Buccaneer asked, barging through the door followed quickly by Neil.

“Ugh. I thought this room was supposed to be private,” Ed complained. “And, FYI, some people actually respect State Alchemists, so maybe that’s what got us out here.”

“Not private, just unused,” Neil said. “Until now.”

“Are you upgrading too, sir?” Al asked, steering the conversation away from Ed while he got dressed.

“Hell no! I just heard you brats were free and came to supervise! I’ve already got the best there is!” Buccaneer said proudly, shrugging off his coat to show off his clawed arm. “The modified M1910 Mad Bear G! Suits me perfectly, you think?”

“Certainly only a particular personality could make it work,” Becca said mildly.

On the other side of the room, though, Winry practically vibrated with excitement. “Oh, my God! Do you have the add-on diamond-strengthened fingertips?”

Buccaneer was all smiles, wiggling his fingers and allowing her to grab and inspect the digits. Where the hell was this guy when he was dealing with them? If Becca knew all it took to get on his good side was compliment his automail, she would have lied through her teeth at the ostenatious thing ages ago!

Squealing, Winry examined as much as she could, turning it over and over in her hand. “Ed, do you want one of these? I could ask Mr. Garfiel for some pointers on making something similar if I could get a closer look-”

“No,” Ed said.

That didn’t stop Buccaneer from flexing his arm delightedly, preening under Winry’s attention. “Even if the sourpuss doesn’t want it, you’re welcome to check it out. I made some suggestions when Neil here was designing this for me,” he boasted, slapping the mechanic on the back with his flesh arm. Neil stumbled a bit but ultimately took it in stride, also smiling from the praise.

Becca mimicked gagging over his shoulder when Ed was looking at her, making him grin.

“This is fascinating,” Winry said in awe, standing on her tiptoes to study the elbow joint. “I thought northern automail was just a different set of materials, but you’ve got different gears in here too!”

“Well, that’s so he can swivel around easier,” Neil explained. “I’ve got the blueprints at my workbench, if you’d like to take a look.”

“Ooh, can I?” she said excitedly. Neil nodded, just as eager, and gestured her towards the door.

“Hey, wait a sec!” Ed protested. When Winry turned around, confusion etched on her face, he faltered, glancing around at everyone in the room. Kimblee, Buccaneer, Will-

He coughed, then just said, “Don’t go wandering off, okay? This place can be dangerous.”

“Is that all?” Winry asked. When he didn’t say anything else, she assured, “I won’t. I’ll be careful. But I didn’t just come here to see you guys, I want to learn too. How often will I get the chance to see real cold-weather automail in Rush Valley?”

“Not often,” Becca said, standing up and putting a hand on Ed’s shoulder when he opened his mouth again. “Go have fun. Just… just watch your back.”

She nodded, then turned to chat with Neil as they left the room. 

“She’s certainly serious about work,” Kimblee said, speaking up for the first time since he’d comforted Winry about their incarcerated state. “That’s my type of girl.”

Ew, Becca thought, frowning. Ed and Al both clearly thought the same thing, both recoiling and Ed even stepping slightly in front of Becca. Even Will looked uncomfortable, his lip curling from his spot standing sentry in near the door.

“Oh, stop that, she’s too young for me,” Kimblee said as he waved them off. “But now that she’s gone and you’ve been fitted with proper automail, we need to have words. Well, technically just Fullmetal and I. You two, I’ll have someone escort you back to your cell.”

“What?!”

“I thought you were releasing us!” Al said, affronted.

“I’ll get around to it,” he said.

Will cleared his throat noticeably, drawing their attention to him. “Um, sir, you said I could-”

“Oh, yes, I did say that, didn’t I?” Kimblee pretended to think for a moment, then said, “Yes, that’s fine. You may speak with Illusion.” He made for the door, motioning for Ed to follow and elbowing Will on his way out. “Just try not to rough her up too bad this time, eh?”

Ed sent a panicked look at her over his shoulder as he hurried to catch up with him. Becca swallowed and clenched her jaw, but tried to nod to alleviate his concern. She was fine. They were in a fort full of professionals. She tried to remember Ed’s assurances– if he tried anything, no one would let anything too serious happen. She could handle this, but Ed needed to talk to Kimblee and figure out what he wanted. Why he’d dangled Winry in front of them like he had.

“Go. It’s fine,” she said earnestly.

“Make sure Alphonse makes it back to the holding cell,” she heard Kimblee say to someone outside the door, probably the large, hulking men that had trailed them here.

Will stepped off the wall, almost reaching toward her as if to guide her, then immediately pulling back when she jumped. Instead, he just gestured to the open door. “Ladies first.”

Chapter 46: alexithymia

Notes:

hellooooo my dears,

if you read the biggest ed/becca scene in this chapter and you think "two people can't possibly be that stupid and not realize they both like each other" then you will be very disappointed in me, dear reader, because that is based very heavily on an interaction between me and my first boyfriend, and it still took us another two months to actually get together. not to worry tho, ed and becca have a much shorter timeline.

also...

my boy is back!!! ugh i love will, expect to see a lot more of him in the coming chapters, as well as possibly a mini story about what he's been up to lately? idk i haven't decided yet, but mayhaps in the future. lmk if that would be something that interests y'all and i might consider it more.

EDIT: i just realized i forgot to mention that i have to acknowledge that becca's going to be a bit of a little shit in the next few chapters. rest assured, she will get better and this is unfortunately the development part of the character development where we have to "learn to cope with our emotions in a healthy way" smh smh

alexithymia (noun)- the inability to express your feelings

Chapter Text

“Here works, right?” Will asked, gesturing hesitantly to an empty interrogation room as if Becca’s opinion mattered.

“Oh, it’s perfect,” she drawled sarcastically. “The decor really does scream ‘best place to discreetly get rid of your sister’, don’t you think?”

He nodded, shoulders hunched, and opened the door. “I can’t exactly go parading you through the fort or anything without getting in trouble,” he said with a confusingly subdued tone, “but do you want a drink, or- or something? As long as you promise to stay put, I can go-”

Ushering her to one of the chairs, he continued to stammer until Becca took pity on him. “This is a little pathetic, I’m not going to lie. If you’re going to try and kill me, can you just get on with it?”

As he moved around to the other side of the table, Becca watched him carefully with what she knew was a suspicious gaze, but hey, could she really be blamed? She knew better than anyone what might lurk beneath this new, clean-shaven, military blue-wrapped surface. Someone had trimmed his hair– it was still long, but much neater and put together (honestly, Becca was just glad he hadn’t given himself a mullet. He’d had a phase when he was fifteen, and it’d be difficult to take him seriously if she was reminded of the gawky teenage years)– and his face had filled out since the arrest. A bit of guilt stirred in her stomach as she realized she hadn’t really noticed the hollowness in his cheeks until they’d disappeared, but she tried to stomp it down.

More than that, he’d seemed more clear-headed than he had in years, at least with how he was behaving. Yet he was with Kimblee, of all people, and who better to coach him into acting sane for the sake of wriggling out from under distrustful eyes, only to explode at a moment’s notice? No, letting her guard down would be irresponsible at best and disastrous at worst. It would be best to keep her distance until she could scope out the situation more.

Then probably scope it out with Ed as well. In case her judgment was clouded.

“I don’t want to kill you.” Will paused before pulling out his own chair and sinking down into his seat, then said, “I understand you’re mad.”

Becca snorted. “Mad. Yeah, that’s one way to define it.”

“Rebecca,” he said exasperatedly.

“Oh, my God. Do not take that tone with me, not after all the shit you’ve put me through.”

He took a deep breath, then slowly and deliberately let it out. “I’m… sorry,” he said. “You’re right, I shouldn’t lose my temper. I’ve just- well, God, I’ve heard so much about you. Even just in these last few weeks since I got brought on.” For a moment, as he spoke, sounding almost earnest and, dare she say, proud, Becca could almost see the older brother who’d sat across from her at their kitchen table, showing her a transmutation before she’d been allowed to learn on her own. He smiled crookedly, running a hand through his sandy blonde hair before rubbing the back of his neck. “Everyone’s impressed by you, little sister.”

Little sister . He’d called her that when he’d attacked her the second time, the centerpiece to the whole miserable day with Nina and Scar and depending on Mustang and arguing with Mustang and panicking, panicking, panicking-

All too suddenly, the boy across the table was replaced with the man chasing her through the city. Although… that had been the time he’d let her go, so maybe-

She shook her head before she could spiral, taking a deep breath. “What do you want?”

Will leaned forward, resting his chin on his folded hands. “I just want to talk.”

“About what?”

“About what?” he said, eyes widening. “About the fucking weather! No, Rebecca, about this debt thing!”

What was it Bradley had said? She’d nearly forgotten among the threats and revelation, but, “Oh, right. You heard about that,” she said. She shrank back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest, as closed off as she could get, and trying not to give away how hard she would be trembling if she hadn’t clenched every muscle in her body. She pretended her voice was steady when she continued, “You didn’t have to take any of it.”

“I- of course, I did! Am I just supposed to let you put your life at risk?”

Maybe if the situation was different, Becca would have laughed. As it was, she muttered under her breath, “That is… incredibly rich, coming from you, William .”

Even as Will pursed his lips and said nothing, his quickly reddening face was a pretty dead giveaway to his frustration. The siblings held the solemn stillness, each waiting for the other to make a move. Becca wasn’t sure whether she preferred dealing with the violent outbursts she’d become accustomed to or this new stubborn silence.

Well, not new, she supposed. When they were younger, Will had rarely even raised his voice at her, and he’d hated even sparring with her when their father had made him. He would get broody instead, for sure, and retreat into bouts of darkness and depression and a fiery determination to grind harder and be better, but he’d never been violent until after he’d left. After he’d left and never returned.

Her lip quivered and she bit it to force it to stop.

This wasn’t the Will she knew from childhood. It wasn’t. It couldn’t be. Because the world didn’t work out like that for her, returning something so dear that she’d lost. Because it never did. It took and it took and it took and if it gave this one thing back then it would only be on par to rip something even more precious away. Equivalent Exchange be damned, the world never shook out that neatly for her.

“Rebecca,” Will said uneasily, placing his arms flat on the table in favor of leaning toward her.

Her breathing had picked up without her noticing and she jerked away like she’d been burned before he could grab her hand, knocking her chair over with the screech of metal on metal. “Don’t touch me!”

Will froze in place, then slowly pulled away, swallowing thickly. “I- sorry.”

Once she was up, she had to move. She couldn’t help but start to pace back and forth behind the seat, wringing her hands and mumbling reassurances to herself under her breath. She forced herself to suck in a deep breath, pulling her shoulders up to her ears, and released it all at once. When she stood up straight again, she pasted on a smile. “Seriously, you can’t have come all the way north just to tell me what I already know about my own situation. What can I help you with, William?”

“Come on-”

“There’s no need to sound so exasperated, I’m trying to help.”

“Don’t act like that. I’m only trying to talk.”

“Aren’t we?”

“Look, I know I’ve made mistakes. I won’t pretend otherwise, but we need to discuss this.”

“Discuss what? I’ve been handling things just fine in your… absence.”

“Rebecca, I’m sorry,” he said. “I know I was wrong, if you’d just let me explain what’s happened recently-” She made a face, scowled, and he switched his train of thought. “You know what, we don’t need to talk about that now.”

“Thank God.”

“But we do need to talk about this debt thing,” he plowed on. “I mean, what happened?”

Becca couldn’t help but roll her eyes. He had the gall to ask her what had happened? How dare he? “Our father, may he rest in peace,” she said sarcastically, “borrowed more money than he couldn’t return. Then didn’t even bother to try. Long story short-” She gestured widely, “-here I am.”

This time, Will scowled, “I know that .”

“I mean, if you want the full, long story, that can be arranged,” she said, leaning forward to rest a hand on her fist. “Where should I start? When I was totally alone in our house with my mother and got a letter demanding repayment of the debt? When Dad died in an-” She faltered. With any luck (though the existence of that was really doubtful at the moment), Will didn’t know about the transmutation, and she wasn’t about to let it slip if that was the case, “-an accident and I had to act like he’d run off? Or maybe when Louisa died? Or maybe, just maybe, I should start when you left?” Her voice cracked and she rubbed her temples, trying to pretend she wasn’t rubbing at her eyes simultaneously. “When you went to take that stupid test and never came back? Maybe the downward spiral started when I begged to learn alchemy with you, who knows? But then again,” A tear dropped from one eye and traced a warm, wet line down her cheek and she shrugged, shaking it away, “you’d know that if you bothered to stick around.”

“Rebecca,” Will whispered. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him reaching for her again and she had to sniff, wiping the tears threatening to spill against her will. Evidently, he got the message, pulling back for good this time. Still, he asked, “Why did you agree to it? I don’t get- why didn’t you fight it?”

“Seriously?” Becca asked, casting a derisive look at him. “What was I supposed to do? Just sit around until you wondered what was up with us?”

“I- I don’t- I didn’t know- I thought you knew that Dad didn’t-”

“He didn’t pass on your letters, I remember,” Becca snapped. “And I would have understood if you didn’t want to come back and face him! But you could have called! You could have put in a bit more effort to let us know you were okay! At some point, you’ve got to stop blaming Dad for everything! If you’ve been insisting on holding onto a grudge all these years towards him , it’s no wonder you haven’t healed from what he did to you! You let the wound fester and all of us have come out worse for it!”

“Alright, do not talk to me about him. You didn’t understand back then, how he treated me!” Will protested. “What he would do to you if I didn’t-” His face fell. “What he probably did… after I…”

“I tried to write to you to let you know what was going on, but I didn’t know where I was supposed to send it because you never let us know! If we could have gotten in contact, we– me and Louisa– would have come to you! We missed you! But the world didn’t stop just because you left! We thought you’d died! We didn’t want to, but we didn’t have a choice! We mourned you and we had to keep going without you!”

Will looked a bit taken aback, and Becca didn’t bother to hide the frustrated tears welling up again.

“The truth is that I was so tired, Will! By the time they summoned me, I was- I didn’t have any fight left in me! So yeah, maybe I should have fought it and maybe I wouldn’t be in this situation now! But I couldn’t do it. I had nothing left and too much on my plate already, okay? And I was lucky because I met the Elrics, and maybe I could have been content just helping them for the rest of our lives, until they had to throw us into this bullshit that we never asked to be a part of!” she said, gasping in a few breaths throughout, volume rising and pointing at the metal door at no one in particular. She wished Kimblee or Raven were nearby for effect, but this worked fine, she supposed. “And now you’re working with them! What, was this the best way to get back at me? At the cost of everything !?”

“What do you mean?” Will said, brow furrowing. 

“Please, you can’t work with the brass and not know about their plan, especially since-” Since they’re using you against me, she thought, shutting her mouth firmly. Okay, maybe he didn’t know everything, but they’d just found out the homunculi could tell humans something about their plans without considering them important enough to let them in on every detail if General Raven’s understanding of the situation was to be used as a baseline.

“What the hell are you talking about?” he demanded, eyes widening. He sat up straight and leaned forward. “Especially since what?”

“Don’t demean me, please, I’ve had enough of that lately-”

“I’m not demeaning you! For everything else I did do, I never once underestimated you!”

Becca laughed shrilly, clapping once with a phony grin. “One check in the ‘good brother’ box for you, then! Good for you! Well done! You want a medal?”

“That’s not what I meant-”

“If you’re not looking down on me, then just be honest with me!”

“I am being honest with you!”

“If you’ve ever been my brother, the brother I knew, if you’ve ever loved me, then please-” She choked a bit, voice breaking as she covered her mouth for a second, then forced herself to keep speaking, “please, just tell me what they’re planning so we can stop it!”

“I’m being totally, 100% honest with you, Rebecca,” Will said firmly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t know who they are or what they’re planning. I would tell you if I did. You have to believe me.” Slowly, like moving too fast would spook her, he put his hands on her shoulders, gently pressing down until she was back in her seat again. “Please. I swear, I don't know what’s going on.”

Either he had managed to work alongside Kimblee and not pick up on the- well, everything that was supremely off about him, or he was lying to her face. Somehow, one of those things seemed more likely than the other. And you know what? Fine. If there was one thing Will had always been no matter what, it was stubborn, and she knew that. So fine. He didn’t want to own up to whatever they had roped him into? Fine! Becca had tried for years to get him back, but maybe-

Maybe she needed to face the idea that the brother she knew was gone.

She gritted her teeth, sucked in air, and dug through the inside pockets of her thicker, alchemically reinforced jacket looking for-

“Here,” she said, tossing the sealed envelope she’d carried everywhere for two years.

Will scooted backward, picking up the letter and hesitantly turning it over in his hands, studying the loopy handwriting on the front and untouched seal on the back. “Is this-?”

“Victor’s,” she said, tucking into herself again, trying to make herself as small as possible. “And yours. It’s been yours.”

“Rebecca-” He paused, one finger slipping under the top of the envelope, only to draw it back and tuck it away in a pocket of his own, unopened. “Becca,” he revised for the first time. “You didn’t need to keep this-”

“I needed to for Victor. He’d be sad if you never read it,” she said simply with a shrug. “And I’d like to go to the cells now. That’s probably where they’ve taken Al and Winry.”

“Becca…”

“I want to go to the cell now,” she repeated, getting to her feet.

Finally, Will followed suit. He passed by her to open the door, then stepped aside to allow her out first. “I think I still need to escort you back so neither of us gets in trouble,” he explained, almost… awkwardly. 

She said nothing as she strode out into the hallway and back towards the cell block. The metal door creaked shut behind her, but she didn’t turn to look, even as Will’s slower, longer footsteps trailed after her. Neither of them spoke. As they neared the door separating the holding cells from the rest of the fort, they could hear Kimblee’s arrogant voice coming from a different hallway. He was coming their way. Becca hoped he had Ed with him and he hadn’t had too much time out of their sight while she’d been occupied.

Before Kimblee or Ed actually appeared, though, Will grabbed her upper arm and she jumped. Almost immediately, she yanked her arm out of his grip, and oddly enough, he let her, albeit with a small frown. “I just wanted to say,” he said quietly, “if you ever want to… you know, talk– about anything– let someone know to come get me. I’ll slip away from Kimblee, promise. If you- if you need anything.”

Becca scoffed as, thankfully, Ed rounded the corner and Will had to step away or risk looking suspiciously conspiratorial. “I’ll be sure to do that as soon as I’ve exhausted every other option up to and including escaping into the snow to ask almost anyone else.”

“Ah, Harper! Or Harpers, I suppose,” Kimblee greeted smoothly. “Look at us four. Running right on the same schedule. Peas in a pod, aren’t we?”

“Productive meeting, I hope, sir?” Will said.

“The start of something productive, indeed. But Fullmetal here wanted to discuss with his companions before making any promises, right?” He nudged Ed, who, if possible, looked even worse than her. His entire body was tight and his face had contorted into a death stare aimed at the floor. Kimblee didn’t seem to care, knocking until one of his soldiers who’d evidently been watching over Al and Winry, a large, hulking man who slightly resembled a gorilla, came to let them into the cell block. He urged, “Come along then. All of you. We’re going to have one big meeting, aren’t we?”

As they were herded back into their cell where Al and Winry had huddled in quiet conversation on one of the wooden pallets, only looking up and going silent when the door was unlocked, Becca tried to reach for Ed’s hand, though she wasn’t sure if she wanted to offer reassurance or try to get some for herself. She managed to get ahold of him and they exchanged one squeeze each before they had to pull apart under scrutinizing eyes. Will leaned against the opposite wall on the other side of the bars, looking curious and a bit uncomfortable with the proceedings, while Kimblee stood up straight with his hands in the pockets of his coat. Becca settled on the other bed, but Ed stayed on his feet, pacing back and forth for a few moments, staring at the floor.

“Ed?” Winry said, breaking the thick, contemplative silence that had fallen over all of them. “Is everything alright?”

“You’re being held hostage, Winry.”

The frankness of that statement made Becca feel like the wind had been knocked out of her. She couldn’t imagine how poor Winry felt. Across the hall, Will straightened up almost imperceptively. If Becca hadn’t been watching him like a hawk, she might have missed the movement.

“Brother!” Al said, scandalized.

“I- huh?”

“You couldn’t have said it a little more delicately?” Becca asked.

“There isn’t a delicate way to put it,” he said firmly, looking up at them with a stony gaze. “They’re ordering me to fulfill my purpose as a human weapon. They want me to commit mass murder.”

Leaping to her feet, Winry protested, “What?! They can’t make you-” She faltered, realization dawning. “Oh. They can make you. And you have to do it because of me.”

No one said anything. Technically, unfortunately, she wasn’t exactly wrong. Winry slumped forward, her entire body trembling. Al placed a hand on her shoulder at once, Becca glanced down guiltily at her lap, and Ed’s eyes widened and he almost tumbled off the cell bars in his rush to assert, “Hey, hold on now! There’s nothing to cry about!” He didn’t, however, move to comfort her, Becca noted, narrowing her eyes. He still held himself rigidly and deliberately separated from all of them.

Interesting.

“I’m not crying!” Winry snapped as she covered her eyes, tilting her head back and sinking back onto the wall. “I’m angry. I’m holding you guys back, again. How could I have been so stupid to not see it? To just let them use me like that and not even know?”

“It’s not your fault, Winry,” Becca said gently.

“But it’s still not fair,” she lamented. “All you guys have been trying to do is get Ed and Al’s bodies back to normal, and you get forced into things like this? It’s bullshit!”

Ed ignored her outburst, speaking right over her head to Al. “He said if I go through with what he’s asking of me, then we can have a Philosopher’s Stone.”

Becca froze in place, her breath catching for a brief second before she remembered how tight Ed had been when they met back up, how he’d pointedly squeezed her hand earlier, and most importantly, how he would never treat any of them– Winry, Becca, or most of all, Al– so thoughtlessly, nor would he discuss the Stone so flippantly. There had to be a reason he was acting so out of character. So she forced herself to stay focused on her hands in her lap and not react, even as Al protested, “But the Philosopher’s Stone is-!”

“Kimblee has it on him,” Ed interrupted.

“That’s not what I was gonna say! You know what it is, we can’t-!”

“We’ll be able to get our bodies back, at the cost of me becoming a human weapon,” he said sharply, levelling a look at them. Well, specifically, at Becca and Al.

Kimblee has it on him, he’d said.

Clarity hit her like one of Major General Armstrong’s tanks.

Oh, that’s not good.

There was a beat where Becca stared at him, wide eyed and doing her best to keep her gaze fixed forward rather than exchange panicked looks with Al, and then, “Do what you want,” the younger Elric conceded.

Ed shrugged, moving again towards the cell door and hanging one arm through the bars in order to wave him closer, not that the major complied. “I will. Kimblee? I made my decision,” he said with a tone of finality “I’ll take the job. If it’s alright with you, I’m going to start with searching for Scar.”

“‘If it’s alright with you’? Awfully humble all of a sudden, aren’t we, Fullmetal?” Kimblee said.

“Scar murdered Winry’s parents,” Ed explained as if he should ever have to justify anything to Kimblee. “I’m getting revenge for their deaths first.”

“Wait!” Becca said, standing up from the sorry excuse for a bed quickly. “I- I’m not letting you do this alone.”

His shoulders tightened once again, just barely, before they released and he turned around, shooting her a small smile. “Of course not. I need you and Al to come with me.”

“Pardon?” Kimblee asked.

“Scar’s alchemy doesn’t work on Al because of his armor,” Ed said. “And I’m so used to having both of them fighting next to me, I’ll be weaker without them watching my back.”

“Hm,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Alright, if you insist. I’ll inform the major general and then I’ll come and get you all. Come along, Taloned.”

“Hey!” Ed shouted, banging on the bars with his metal fist as the pair of them, along with two of Kimblee’s four lower-ranked soldiers, headed off down the long hallway. “You’re just leaving us again?”

Will cast a questioning look over his shoulder as he went, but stayed quiet and trotted after Kimblee nonetheless.

“Brother?” Al said softly. “Are you doing what I think you’re doing?”

Ed didn’t reply but for a quick flick of his gold eyes to Kimblee’s remaining men lurking just outside their cell, and that was enough for the four of them inside it. Al’s armor creaked as he nodded and settled back onto the wooden pallet he’d already claimed, stoic as ever.

Major General Olivier Mira Armstrong might not like them, but the woman was clearly at least watching their back. Becca decided this as soon as she saw that Miles was the one leading Kimblee and Will out to the line of cars that had been collected to travel to Scar’s last known location, a mining town that had been abandoned years ago called Baschool. It had taken all night to get this operation set up, but that only meant they had an entire day ahead to travel and begin their search. At one point in the night, their guards had both been dozing, allowing the four teenagers to converse in hushed tones about the true nature of Ed’s plan.

It turned out Al had picked up on one half and Becca had picked up on the other; first, they’d search for Scar to hopefully get a new lead on the Xingese girl and alkahestry, then, if they had time, they’d try to get the Philosopher’s Stone out of Kimblee’s hands.

“Not to use it, of course,” Ed assured. “But he doesn’t have the same qualms about using it as we do.”

Winry had sat in quiet pondering through the discussion, clearly deep in thoughts that none of them were privy to.

The two grunts who’d stayed in the holding area with them but hadn’t deigned to give their names had been run down shortly after someone delivered a cold breakfast for all of them by one of the northern privates relaying orders to bring the three alchemists to the front of the fort, so she, Ed, and Al were already loaded into the back seat of one of the snow-equipped utility vehicles when Kimblee and his crew arrived on the ground. 

“You can handle the details, but I’m still in charge,” he warned Miles as they strode towards the open window Becca was leaning out of.

“Of course, sir.”

“Wait for me! Don’t go yet!” came Winry’s shout seconds before she threw the door open and squeezed herself into the already tight fit in their seat. Her long, metal toolbox fell across all of their laps as she slammed the door behind her, despite the (mostly involuntary but incredibly vocal) protests of all involved.

“Winry, what are you doing?” Ed wheezed, squished against Al. “I thought you were going to spend the day with the engineers again.”

“Yes, I did arrange for that,” Kimblee said as he stuck his head in the window, seemingly heedless of the fact that he was filling up a very crowded space even more, and Becca had to push down the urge to push his fedora right back out of the car. “You really should stay here, Miss Winry. We’re not just going sightseeing.”

“Obviously not!” Winry said. “I just fitted Ed with brand new automail, plus it’s a cold weather model that I’ve never made before. Something could go wrong, and I need to be there to fix it if it does! Otherwise, it’d destroy my family’s name and reputation!”

Hm. If the new automail was really the reason Winry was coming, Becca figured she’d be more worried about Ed’s safety and the fact that something could go wrong and lead to him or someone else getting hurt than simple reputation, especially considering Ed would never rag on any design of hers– even the time it had broken down on him, he’d done nothing but praise her. But if she needed to get past Kimblee to come along, then she’d need a reason he’d understand; more than that, she’d need a reason he’d respect. And although Kimblee didn’t seem to be one for concern, he was clearly a man whose image mattered dearly to him.

“Damn gearhead! You’re such a workaholic!” Ed chastised.

But that left the question of why Winry was so adamant on coming at all…

“Oh, what? So I can’t take pride in my work? The Rockbells have been doing this for four generations and I will not be the one to tarnish that legacy!”

Sure the Elrics were doing the exact same thing, Becca eyed the other girl curiously, running through possibilities as to why she wanted to come hunt for Scar so badly, and why she hadn’t let any of them know she’d be attempting it.

“Fine, fine, you can come,” Kimblee relented, cutting off the bickering that was bound to begin any second now. “Darius,” he said to one of his men, “get in their car. Watch over Miss Winry.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Great. Since we’re all settled nice and cozy,” Kimblee raised his voice, calling to all the soldiers that were slated to join them, “Let’s get moving!”

“Budge over a little, won’t you, Becca?” Winry said as the cars and trucks around them started up. Kimblee climbed into the one stalling behind them, and the motorcade started moving out as soon as his door slammed shut behind him. “I can barely breathe over here.”

Becca glanced to her other side where she was already pressed shoulder to shoulder with Ed. If she was to get any closer, she’d have to practically sit on his lap.

“Winry, unfortunately, there’s not a lot of extra room,” she said, going red. “And Al can’t exactly scoot over much.”

“Come on, please?” Winry pleaded. She bunched her body up exaggeratedly, sticking her lip out.

“Winry-”

“Here. It- it’s fine, Bex,” Ed interrupted, scooting over just enough to give her a bit of wiggle room so she could shift over onto his thigh if she wanted to. 

Becca swallowed as the flush on her face spread steadily down her neck but obliged, successfully giving Winry a little more space at the expense of a few shreds of dignity. Ed’s hand came to rest near her waist, his fingers almost totally still until they hit a bump in the road and he suddenly tightened his grip to keep her from toppling off.

“Awesome,” he grunted sarcastiaclly, and Becca felt his forehead come to rest on her shoulder in resignation.

“You really should have stayed at the fort, Miss Winry,” Kimblee’s man, Darius, said from the passenger seat. “For your own safety.”

The mood in the car dipped. Winry shrunk in on herself a little and Becca’s heart sank in sympathy. “I know,” she mumbled, pulling her knees up to her chest and hiding her face. “I’m sorry, I just- I just couldn’t sit there and wait. I need to be there for them.”

All of a sudden, it became incredibly clear: Winry was always left behind. Not by any fault of her own, and not because she couldn’t handle it, but it was a fact nonetheless that Winry always had to watch those who were family, or at least as good as to her, leave. Hell, Becca couldn’t really blame her for this. If she’d been left behind while Ed, Al, and Winry went on a dangerous mission, she might have done the exact same thing and tried to tag along, even if her better judgement said it would have been a bad idea.

She leaned over, wrapping an arm around Winry and glaring at Darius in the rearview mirror. His eyes widened, head whipping around the car for a supporter, of which he found none. “Well- well, it’s alright as long as you stay in the back, alright?”

Unless Becca’s eyes were fooling her, she could have sworn Winry’s mouth tilted up into a smile.

Chapter 47: viridity

Notes:

helloooo, my dears!

i swear i intended to get this out yesterday and then i got a migraine and it was a whole thing but hey now it's 7000 words so... enjoy.

i have the next bit charted out and partly written and thats how you know i'm excited lol, so get hyped, get hyped! it's gonna be fun!!!

i do want to refine my statement from last time where i said that becca was going to be a bit of a teenage shit for a hot minute to include ed as also low key being a bit of a shit for a lil bit. its all out of good intentions, but i always interpreted one of ed's greatest flaws being his savior complex and how he has difficulty letting others make their own decisions and face whatever consequences come from that, and that is on display right here. but as always, we'll get through it, and i promise this is the last leg before we get some fluff, as well as a bit of resolution. keep y'all's heads up :)

viridity (noun)- naive innocence

Chapter Text

Miles sent his men off squad by squad, then turned to them. “Miss Winry,” he said in his tone of measured professionalism. “I won’t object to your being here, but I’m sure you understand that I can’t allow you to wander around an abandoned city for your own safety.”

She hung her head and nodded, giving in suspiciously easily for what seemed to be her normal standards in Becca’s humble opinion. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Maybe you could go hang out by the cars?” Becca said. “We’ll  find you if Ed needs help with his automail.” Or if something goes horribly wrong.

“I’ll walk you over,” Al said.

One more nod and the suit of armor whisked her out of sight. Personally, Becca didn’t really think that Winry needed to be escorted anywhere, but maybe there was something Al needed to tell her away from the prying ears of literally everyone in the military.

So, she didn’t draw attention to them, turning back towards Miles to receive his instructions, though that, of course, couldn’t play out according to plan either. A large hand fell on her shoulder, belonging to Kimblee’s blonde, bespectacled soldier. The one with the sideburns was next to him with a hand on Ed’s shoulder, and his other two hulking guards were still hovering near Kimblee and Will’s squad.

“We’ll be accompanying you,” he said, leaving no room for argument.

“Great,” Ed drawled.

“It could be worse,” Becca murmured into the wind so only Ed would hear it. “We got the lackeys. It could have been Kimblee himself keeping an eye on us.”

“Or your brother,” Ed grumbled in return as Al rejoined the group. 

Becca nodded, squinting a bit. “Or my brother.”

Was it just her or was Al’s gait just a little heavier than normal when he returned?

She didn’t exactly have time to ponder for long as Miles shouted, “Alright, everyone! Move out! Search every corner of your assigned sectors and report back before sunset!”

Becca shared a look with Ed, then with Al, sure all three of them were thinking the same thing. The first step would have to be to shake the guards so that they could hopefully find Scar on their own and-  well, okay, maybe they didn’t discuss that part as thoroughly as they should have, but probably get him to take them to the little girl (May, she kept reminding herself, her name was May), for all of their sakes.

“Better hope nothing goes wrong with my automail. I don’t know if they’d give me enough time to get back here,” Ed said lowly.

Kimblee, Will, and the men accompanying them were the first ones out of the plaza they’d set up as a makeshift home base, Kimblee adjusting his clean, white fedora over his hair so he nearly blended into the snow around him. Becca narrowed her eyes. Maybe they weren’t the only ones who were planning on giving their overseers the slip.

So as they set off into the depths of the city, Becca’s mind was racing through ideas on how to get rid of Kimblee’s men. Luckily, if there was one perk about an urban setting, it was that there were plenty of side streets and alleyways they could duck away into and, alone with Kimblee’s soldiers, very few people to see them do it. Perhaps if there was a way to make a set of decoys, they could send them away with those.

“What’s that over there?” Ed shouted suddenly, pointing one way, then grabbing Becca and Al and bolting the other.

Or the simplest way was the easiest for a reason, Becca thought as she got her feet under her to fall in line with the brothers. The soldiers shouted an alarm but opted to chase them down instead of following Ed’s panicked gesture.

“Damn,” Ed swore, turning a sharp corner. “C’mon, this way.”

After they’d ducked into the alleyway he’d indicated, Ed clapped his hands together and transmuted the ground below them into a wall separating them from their guards. 

“Where’d they go?”

“What happened?”

“Come on, they had to have gone this way!”

All of them frozen in place, Becca and Ed hardly breathing as they waited, and finally, finally the chattering from the others in their group faded. Ed grinned proudly. “Yes,” he whispered, pumping his fist.

“Good idea,” Becca praised. “Let’s go, before they figure out a way over here.”

Sneaking through alleyways, vaulting from rooftop to rooftop, and peering through the windows of the abandoned buildings surrounding them grew less “action-spy-hijinks”-y and more “moving-in-order-to-stave- off-frostbite”-y a bit too quickly for Becca’s taste.

“This place is… too… damn… big!” Ed grumbled as they stomped through the snow, boots leaving footprints behind them. If she had more energy, Becca might have tried to cover it up, but the wind that was easily biting through the extra layers that they’d been provided with at the fort at least did some good, blowing fallen snow over the tracks and obscuring the path they’d left behind. “We lost our guards, but that’s hardly gonna do us any good if we can’t find Scar and that girl!”

“Maybe they’ll find us?” Al said hopefully.

“Yeah, I sure do hope that the guy who keeps trying to kill us and his accomplice find us before we find them,” Becca said.

They trudged on in silence until Al paused, causing the other two teenagers to stop as well. “Do you hear that?”

“What?” Ed asked.

“I could have sworn I heard someone calling-”

“Alphonse!”

Sure enough, a tiny voice just barely cut through the thick quiet around them.

“There’s no way,” Ed said.

“Could it be-?” Becca trailed off.

“Alphonse!” May Chang, still dressed head to toe in pink with her long braids trailing behind her, squealed, catapulting herself impossibly high and straight into Al’s chest plate. There was a firm thud from her thick coat colliding with the metal and he leaped backward as if attacked, but May clung to one of the spikes on his shoulder, giggling joyfully as she swung back and forth. “Darling, I knew we’d reunite! But what are you doing this far north?”

“May! You scared me!” Al said, tugging her off of him and setting her back down, then sitting down so he was on her level. “But I’m so glad we found you!”

“You’re glad,” May asked, her eyes going wide, “that you found me? Did you come all the way up here, just to see me?”

Nodding eagerly, Al said, “Yep!”

“Me- me too! I mean, I haven’t been looking for you, I’m just- I’m glad you found me, since- since you were looking-”

Despite everything, Becca couldn’t help but giggle to herself. May fawned and blushed, twittering around with her eyes sparkling at the idea that Alphonse was pursuing her and Al, rubbing the back of his neck and chuckling in that slightly-guilty-seeming, always endearing manner, seemed totally oblivious. Side-eyeing Ed, wondering if maybe it ran in the family, she was only met with him practically foaming at the mouth. In a split second, she’d grabbed the back of his collar as he made a move to lurch towards the Xingese princess, stopping him firmly in his tracks.

“Bex!” he protested.

“Don’t,” she hissed. “Al can get through to her, do not scare her off.”

“Get off!”

“Edward-!”

May, blissfully unaware of their bickering, squealed again and threw herself at Al again, trying (and failing) to wrap her arms around his neck and subsequently knocking him back into a snowdrift.

“Ouch!”

Becca froze. Was that Winry?

She was supposed to have been waiting for them at the cars, and yet Becca couldn’t quite make herself be surprised that she’d tagged along anyway.

“Oops! Sorry about that, Winry,” Al said, reaching for the buckles holding his chest plate in place. One click, two clicks, and the iron fell, allowing Winry to clamber out on hands and knees, rubbing her head. Al offered her his hand to help her to her feet while Ed finally wrestled out of Becca’s grip and crossed his arms.

“There’s no reason to look so cross, Ed,” Winry scolded.

“Don’t tell me how I can and can’t look!”

She chuckled and ruffled his hair and, though Ed dodged out of the way, there was an unmistakable relief when he looked at her.

Becca rolled her eyes, fussing with Winry’s hair from where it had been ruffled out of place with all the tumbling around she must have been doing in Al’s chest cavity. “As much as I wish you would have stayed where it was safe,” she said, tugging out one of the strands that usually framed her face and settling it into place, “but I can’t say I’m not glad to see you.”

However, there was one person in the group who was not pleased to see her. “Alphonse!” May said, scandalized. “Who is this woman?”

“Oh, no, May, this is Winry, she’s our-”

“Another woman!” May exclaimed. She pressed a hand to her chest and swooned backward dramatically. “I thought I was the only woman in your heart, Alphonse!”

Al startled, head swinging between the princess and the mechanic. “Oh, no, no, no!” he defended himself. “Winry’s just a friend, we grew up together! It’s not- it’s not like that!”

“Why are you justifying yourself to her?” Ed said waspishly.

“Shut up, micro-man!” May snapped.

“You little-!”

“Alright, everyone,” Becca tried to intervene, even though it was very obvious that no one was really listening as Ed shouted at May, May shouted right back, Winry prodded Ed, and Al attempted to separate all three of them until a cloaked man burst out from another old door that had been all but falling off its hinges with a battle cry.

He faltered upon seeing that it was nothing more than teenagers in the midst of an argument. “May?” he asked, voice scratchy. “Are you alright?” 

And, ouch, his (oddly familiar, now that Becca thought about it) voice wasn’t the only thing that was rough about this man. His clothes were ratty, much more than May’s despite apparently being her traveling partner or something of the like. Perhaps he was on the same level as Lan Fan and Fu were to Ling, albeit much… grubbier looking. But his face was wrinkled, blistered, and scarred. Becca winced in sympathy, hoping for the man’s own sake that the terrible wound was at least numb. Dark eyes sunken deep into his face studied them intently until something shifted.

“Elric brothers? And Miss Harper? Is that really you?”

Becca squinted, trying again to place the man’s voice. Ed was a bit less subtle. “Do we know you, old man?”

“I’m not surprised you don’t recognize me,” the man said, familiar enough with them to shake off his hood, revealing dirt encrusted black hair. 

Suddenly, the full picture fell into place and Becca blurted out, “Dr. Marcoh? Is that you?”

“Marcoh?” Ed asked disbelievingly. “Really?”

The doctor nodded, so Al added, “What are you doing here?”

“I’d like to ask you the same question,” Marcoh said frankly.

“Hold on, hold on!” someone else cried out. Another man staggered out of the door, a greasy-looking, balding man with a thin mustache. He pointed an accusing finger at them, swinging between Ed, Al, and Becca. “The Elric brothers! And the Harper girl! It is you!”

“Um…” Winry said questioningly. “Do you guys know him?”

Ed frowned and scrutinized the stringy man. “I don’t think so?”

“Edward,” Becca chastised, making him scowl. She was struggling to place the newcomer’s face as well, but there was hardly a need to be rude.

“You’ve forgotten who I am?” he screeched.

“Yeah, pretty much,” Ed replied with a shrug.

“Youswell! I’m from Youswell!”

“Brother, I don’t remember meeting any greasy beggars in Youswell,” Al said dubiously.

Youswell. One of their earliest missions and it seemed like a lifetime ago, which made Becca frown internally because why did she sound so old thinking that? And yet, finally, something in the very back of her mind jiggled free and she snapped her fingers. “You’re the guy we bought that mine from!”

“‘Bought’?” the man said furiously. “You stole my mine from me! What you did to me, Lieutenant Yoki, should not be so easily forgotten-!”

“We’re very sorry about the confusion,” Becca interrupted him, gesturing around at the loose circle they’d formed. “But aren’t there some more serious matters to discuss?”

“Rebecca is right,” Marcoh agreed. He pulled over a stray piece of timber, long since separated from its original structure, and sank down onto it with a sort of bone-deep tiredness that could only come from months– maybe years– of exhaustion. “I assume you found out more information on the Philosopher’s Stone.”

Oh, right. They would have to talk about that, of course. She’d tried not to think about it since they’d escaped Envy and Father’s grasp, but as they kept investigating, it seemed like she was going to have to face it again and again.

Ed crossed his arms over his chest. “Yep. We found out a lot of things about it. How it’s made, for one.” Marcoh hung his head in shame, but Ed moved on quickly. “And we know there’s something rotten about the alchemy in Amestris.”

May and Marcoh nodded solemnly while Yoki looked rather taken aback at the sudden change in conversation topic, but stayed quiet.

“That’s why we’ve been looking for you,” Becca implored the princess, whose eyes widened at being singled out. “We were hoping you could tell us more about alkahestry.” May blinked, considering her words before speaking. Her eyes flicked to the side and, if she hadn’t been looking for it, Becca probably would have missed the minuscule concerned frown that crossed her face before she relaxed a bit, still unsettled. 

“Well, I’m glad you’ve found us,” Marcoh said, not noticing May’s discomfort as he reached into one of his pockets, drawing out a leather notebook. “Perhaps with all of our knowledge combined, we can start making some real headway. If Scar were here, we could start right now-”

“Scar?” Al said nervously.

“Ah, shit, Scar!” Ed said, facepalming. “We’ve gotta find him before-!”

Boom!

The ground shook under their feet and they straightened at once. May was the first to dart in the direction, but Marcoh grabbed her by the arm to halt her in place. “Hey!” she protested.

“It’s not safe for you to just rush in,” Marcoh scolded her gently.

“Doctor, May, Yoki, you stay here,” Ed instructed, clapping his hands and forming his usual blade on his right arm. “Winry, you too. We’ll go check it out.”

May frowned, sticking her bottom lip out. “But-!”

“This isn’t just going to be a small conflict,” Al said gravely. “The military is looking for Scar, and if they found him, it’s going to get messy.”

Becca nodded and trailed after Ed and Al despite how she could sense uneasiness radiating off of Winry and May especially in droves. Another explosion rocked the city and, since both Kimblee and Scar specialized in destructive alchemy, they had no way to tell who or what they might run into. Or, remembering how cagey Will and Kimblee had seemed, who might slip away and come to them.

She stopped. “Maybe I should stay behind. What if this is a distraction? I can keep Winry and the others in place and safe since she’s already, you know, snuck away from one group.”

“That’s a good idea,” Al said.

Ed, on the other hand, gave her a suspicious look. Becca frowned right back. “Fine.”

By the time she got back to the group, they’d retreated into a crumbling building and reformed their circle, seated this time on old planks and pieces of concrete. Becca stayed standing, testing one wall’s stability with her hand before leaning against it. They all sat in uncomfortable silence until Winry got back up and made her way over, shivering slightly and hugging herself.

“So what’s going to happen when they catch him?” she asked.

“Scar?” Becca clarified. Winry nodded mutely, and Becca cleared her throat. “Well, now they can’t exactly kill him–” She gestured to Marcoh and May, “-- since apparently we need him to decode the notes.” Winry’s eyes bugged out in horror and Becca rushed to reassure her, “Not- not that they would have killed him if we didn’t need his expertise! Don’t worry, I mean- I just mean-” This reassurance was not working. Winry remained panicked, so Becca opted to just finish, “At most, they might just wail on each other for a bit and then drag him back here. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“And- and what if Scar gets the upper hand?”

The others pretended they weren’t listening as Winry posed her second question, but all three of Scar’s party, including even Yoki, perked up to hear the answer. Becca swallowed. “Scar isn’t exactly known for being great at hearing other people out,” she said, exchanging a knowing look with Marcoh. “So…”

“Oh,” Winry said.

“But it won’t get that far,” Becca insisted. “Ed and Al won’t let that happen.”

Winry hummed, biting her lip. Becca couldn’t tell what gears were turning in her mind and said nothing while she wrestled with something. “Do you think,” she started slowly, “that he would recognize me? That he’d let me speak?”

Becca’s stomach dropped. “Um… I wouldn’t bet on it.”

“But I- I have to try!” Winry said, hopping up and beginning to pace. “He might hurt the boys, but maybe if I don’t try to fight him then he’d listen and get that we could be on the same side-”

“Win, I really don’t think that’s a good idea-”

“You don’t know, though!” she said as she ran a hand through her hair. “I’ve already had to sit around while you guys throw yourselves into danger, I’m not just going to stay in the back anymore!”

With that declaration, she buttoned her coat back up and ducked out the door, following the hint of a trail the Elrics left behind.

“Winry!” Becca shouted, following at once. She did a double take, pointed at the three she was leaving behind, ordered, “Stay here. I mean it,” and ran after her, shouting, “Winry! Wait up!”

Really, she should have known that there would be no stopping Winry when she made her mind up about something. Clearly, she’d decided that she’d done enough waiting for a life time. To be fair, Becca wasn’t sure she could blame her. If she wanted to go try and get between the Elric brothers and the serial killer they’d gone up against twice already, come hell or high water, Winry was going to do it. Unless she wanted to physically restrain her, which, assuming that Winry had one of her wrenches on hand, Becca would prefer to avoid, so all she could do was jog alongside her towards the sounds of combat that grew louder and louder with each step.

A building nearer to the center of Baschool looked even worse for wear than all the others surrounding and, as they approached, shook with shouts and the explosions that accompanied destructive alchemy. Becca caught Winry by the arm before she could bolt for the door, insisting, “You can’t just run in without a plan. This is guy is dangerous!” She opened her mouth to protest until Becca held up a hand. “At least stay behind me, okay?”

Finally, Winry agreed, albeit reluctantly, and allowed Becca ahead of her. At first, the door they approached didn’t budge. Hell, if Ed had been thinking straight, he had probably locked it behind them in order to buy a few seconds of time if another enemy was the one to track them down first. Becca, however, simply raised one booted foot, swivelled, and kicked it in, the crash masked by the shouting and banging from above their heads.

“Whoa,” Winry muttered. “Cool.”

Becca blew a stray strand that had fallen out of her bun away from her face. “Thank you.” Something else crashed on the next floor and she huffed, “We should go.”

“Yeah.”

They dashed up the stairs into an open room where they immediately almost got clotheslined by a piece of concrete flung their way, only avoiding head trauma by Becca grabbing Winry and forcing them both to the ground.

“What are you two doing here?!” Ed shouted, pushing Scar back with a large stone hand. Both brothers seemed to be tiring out, but in decent shape, while Scar had a pretty nasty cut on one arm. Becca cringed. They needed to get him down soon, she knew, since he was sure to have adrenaline on his side if he was still fighting after that injury.

“We’re-” Becca started, at the same moment Scar sneered, destroying the pillar with ease and sending fragments flying through the room. She had to channel the Ishvalan himself and destroyed one midair before it could touch her or Winry. Transmuting a set of pillars and binding Scar to it by his uninjured arm, she tried to finish her sentence, only to be cut off by a hand landing on her shoulder.

She whirled around, swinging her fist around on instinct. Major Miles caught it easily. “That’s enough, Illusion. We’ll take it from here.”

“Major Miles!” Ed said. “How’d you find us?”

Miles gave him a deadpan, incredulous stare, then gestured the squadron he’d brought forward. Largely stoic, they spread out into a semicircle between the combatants and the door, except for one man who squeaked in fear, pointing to the far side of the room. “Major! What- what are those things?”

Two monstrous figures sprawled on the floor, unconscious. One was covered with spines and the other’s face had elongated into a snout, but the giveaway was the remnants of military blues that were torn but still recognizable enough on their lower halves. They reminded her a bit of Greed’s– the original Greed’s– chimeras in Dublith. Miles wrinkled his nose. “Central soldiers? They must be here with Kimblee.”

“Our superiors in Central must be doing some sick experiments,” another soldier said with a frown, nudging one of them with his boot.

“They’re Kimblee’s men?” Al asked, an octave higher than usual.

Ed elbowed him in the side. “We didn’t know.”

“It’s alright, Elrics,” Miles assured. “All of your northern compatriots, General Armstrong included, are on your side. You don’t have to lie to us.”

“I thought you’d joined up with Kimblee and Raven,” Becca said suspiciously. “Armstrong too.”

“General Raven has unfortunately gone missing,” the major said. It didn’t sound like he thought it was really that unfortunate. “So I defer to my normal superiors. Tie up those two and secure the area while I deal with Scar.”

“Yes, sir.”

The Briggs soldiers moved as one to follow his orders whilst Miles drew his gun and approached Scar, still entwined in stone where Becca had trapped him, against one of the few fully intact pillars that remained. He sighed, shoulders relaxing into the stance of a confident marksman. “I’m sorry to do this. I hate to punish one of my own people, but I cannot allow you to go free after everything you’ve done.”

“One of your own people?” Scar replied doubtfully.

Miles ignored the question. “Fullmetal, Illusion, Alphonse, you’re done here. You have my thanks for aiding in Scar’s capture, but now he’s my job.”

He raised his pistol, taking aim at Scar’s head. Becca’s head snapped up and she started to interject, to tell Miles it was imperative that they take Scar alive to decode the notes Marcoh had shown them briefly, but Winry beat her to it, startling the major with a, “Wait!”

“Winry!” she and the Elrics said suddenly in unison.

Heedless of their calls, Winry strode forward, putting herself between Miles and Scar. Miles grunted, shooing her with the barrel of his gun. “Miss Rockbell. Out of the way, please.”

“It’s alright,” she said softly. “Let me go.” She drew herself up to her full height, puffing her chest out. “I’ve always wanted to talk to him face to face.”

For a moment, Becca didn’t think she heard anyone even breathe. Soldiers kept moving around them, kept checking here and double-checking there, but silence fell in a shroud over their little bubble, all unwilling to be the one to break it until all the bravado drained out of Winry’s body and she slumped forward ever so slightly. Scar raised an eyebrow.

Then, very quietly, she asked, “Why did you kill my mom and dad?”

Scar’s jaw tightened and Becca, along with Ed and Al, she saw out of the corner of her eye, got ready to spring into action if he made a move. But all he did was let out a long breath and respond, “Anything I say will just sound like an excuse. So I’ll only tell you the truth: I did kill the Rockbell doctors. There’s nothing I can say that will allow me to take that back. You, little girl, would be fully within your rights to take my life in vengeance if you believe that it would repay that debt.” Red eyes gleaming in the sharp light of the sun on the snow, he leveled his gaze at Winry, daring her to do exactly that.

Instead, she nodded resolutely, stared right back, and dropped to her knees in front of him. Becca took a minuscule step closer, although it didn’t seem she was needed. “Give me your arm,” Winry said sternly. “If it’s not bound, you’ll bleed to death.” Without looking away from him, she clicked her fingers expectantly, and, when the rest of them were too stunned to react, requested, “Bandage?”

“Winry, you don’t have to…” Ed started, devastated. Right, the Rockbells had been like family to him and Al as well; Becca had heard them affectionately referred to as “Auntie” and “Uncle” on more than one occasion. And yet, she knew, they’d abide by Winry’s wishes. She wanted to heal Scar? Ed and Al would go along, even if they dragged their feet along the way.

She knew it in the same way she knew they hadn’t pushed every time they’d encountered Will and Becca had tried to get through to him.

Although they– especially Edward– did have a protective streak a mile wide, evident when he laid a hand on her shoulder and attempted to tug her back anyway.

“It’s what my parents would have done,” Winry said as Miles handed one over reluctantly and she wrapped the wound as best as she could. “They saved him once before. That has to mean something.”

“So you’re forgiving me?” Scar asked disbelievingly.

“Oh, hell no,” she snapped, and Becca couldn’t help but smirk at the sudden fire that flared up in her voice. “I haven’t forgiven your cruelty. There are just some things that are more important, and if you’re one of the things I’ll need to put up with for Ed and Al to figure out what’s going on, then so be it.”

Smart, Becca praised internally, a genuine, if small, smile spreading hesitantly across her face. Winry, as usual, was brilliant. She finished what she was doing and stood up, retreating back to their group as Miles relayed instructions to call the makeshift base that had been set up. 

“It’s okay. I’m not going to cry again,” she tried to reassure the Elrics, voice shaky as they both looked on with pity, but chin held high. Still, Becca opened one arm for a hug that Winry accepted, burying her face in Becca’s shoulder. If she noticed a few shuddering breaths rush against her neck, it was just as well. Becca wasn’t going to say anything.

“Come on,” Becca said softly, guiding her away from the scene.

Ed and Al began to follow them, and then Ed turned over his shoulder. “Scar, just because Winry is letting this go doesn’t mean there’s anything that would make me and Al happier than dragging you in front of Auntie and Uncle’s grave, you understand?”

Ah, the protective streak rears its head. Becca bit down a hint of annoyance on Winry’s behalf, the other girl too wrapped up in her own head to pay much attention to the rest of them. Scar nodded sharply and Becca’s free hand grabbed Ed’s forearm, pulling him away as Miles bent down to converse lowly with Scar.

“Don’t do this now,” she hissed. “It’s not what anyone needs.”

He shook her hand off of him and jabbed, “Oh, and you know what people need? Winry needed to stay safe and you let her come into a collapsing building where she could have been killed!”

Becca inhaled deeply, forcing her temper into check. “Ed, please.”

“What? What could possibly justify-”

“I never said I was trying to justify-”

“You said you’d stay behind!”

“She ran! I might have not made the best decision in the moment, but-”

“But what? But it all turned out fine, so it’s okay?”

“No! All I’m saying is that you can try to put yourself in her shoes-”

“I don’t need to put myself-”

Winry had drawn herself out of her funk enough to join Al in following their conversation back and forth like a tennis match. However, before it could resolve itself, Dr. Marcoh and May burst through the doorway in a flurry of frantic movement.

“Oh, dammit,” Becca said. “I told you guys to stay put!”

“That’s been really effective today,” Ed said, rolling his eyes with their disagreement tabled for the time being.

“I’m sorry, Rebecca, but you can’t let them take him,” Marcoh said. “And I had to warn you that we saw Kimblee and his men on their way over. They’re hunting for Scar, but I wouldn’t be surprised if he had orders in case he ran into May or myself.”

“Shit,” Becca and Ed mumbled.

“Miles,” she said firmly, rolling her shoulders back and lifting her chin into the most authoritative posture she could manage. “It’s a very long story which I promise we will tell you in full when we have time, but we cannot let Kimblee get his hands on Scar.”

“Or have him find out that Winry snuck off,” Ed added. “He’ll ask too many questions if he thinks we helped her.”

Miles jumped into action, tucking his gun away, though he could surely get it back out at a moment’s notice. “That’s one thing for sure. Miss Winry, you need to hide before Kimblee arrives. It won’t stay safe here for much longer. Then you need to beat us back to the cars. Men who aren’t guarding Kimblee’s chimeras, go try and stall for time. You,” he said, pointing at Marcoh, “start talking. Who are you and what are you doing with Scar?”

Listing really was the best way to organize one’s thoughts. Once they’d filled Miles in as best they could, Becca listed out the criteria the plan had to fit.

  1. Scar could not be captured.
  2. Marcoh could not be seen.
  3. Winry needed to get out from under the Fuhrer’s thumb in this ongoing hostage situation.
  4. Ed, Al, and Becca could not seem to be involved.

Miles added on 5. Technically speaking, he was supposed to take May back to Briggs so that Armstrong could speak with her. May didn’t seem too excited about this part of the plan, hiding behind Al, but there wasn’t exactly time to argue about it. Ed was unhappy that Scar would be getting off largely scot-free, even though Miles only agreed to let him go with a solemn swear that Scar would face his punishment when the time came. Winry and Al both fidgeted uncomfortably. All in all, no one was happy with the premise of the plan, which didn’t leave Becca confident in the outcome once they managed to come up with one.

To make matter worse, the two tied-up chimeras started to groan from their corner as they returned to consciousness. Miles cast his serious gaze over them once, twice, and then declared, “I almost forgot about them. Go ahead and kill them. We don’t need any more cogs in this plan.”

“Wait, what?” Al protested. “Surely you don’t have to kill them!”

“They don’t benefit us if they’re alive,” Miles said frankly.

“But there has to be another way! One without killing them!”

“You showin’ us mercy, kid?” one of the chimeras, the slimy-looking one, slurred. “We don’t need your pity.”

“In these bodies, death would be a blessing,” the other one said with a downhearted chuckle. “Go ahead and take us out, Major.”

“Hey, hey hey! Hold on a second!” Al said. “Don’t you guys have families? Loved ones? People to fight for?”

The chimeras glanced between each other. “Um…” one said. “I guess? But everyone was told we died when they kidnapped us to do these experiments, so we haven’t seen them since.”

“Don’t you want to?”

The other chimera shrugged. “I mean… maybe, but how could we with bodies like this?”

“So you don’t want to get your old bodies back?” Al pushed. “You’re happy like this?”

“Of course we would want to! But they told us it was impossible!”

“Don’t say it’s impossible!” Al demanded, tapping one finger harshly on his chest. “Don’t give up! Quit being so pessimistic! You don’t know if you can get your bodies back to normal if you’ve never even tried!”

“How could you possibly understand what it’s like for us?”

“Because this is my body!” Al said frustratedly. In one foul swoop, he swept his helmet off of his shoulders and bent forward, displaying his hollow interior.

“Al!” Ed yelped.

Even the ever-impassive Briggs troops stared at him, but the chimeras had the most dramatic reaction by far, both gasping.

“You don’t have a body?!” the fat chimera said, shocked.

“That’s even worse than what happened to us!” the snouted one said. “You should give up, kid! You’ll never get your body back!”

Al reattached his head, the red lights in his eyes reigniting as he did. Somehow, he managed to give the chimeras a stern, expectant look at both chimeras. “I don’t believe in ‘never’. I keep telling people that I’m not giving up hope, and that’s not just talk! We’ve finally gotten to a spot where our hope can actually lead us to some answers, so I won’t give up! No matter how many years it takes!”

There was a sudden crash, forcing them to duck before anyone could respond. A soldier shouted, “It’s started to hail! We don’t have much time before we’ll have to evacuate.”

Mentally, Becca added one more objective to the list: 6. Get out of here alive.

“Shit,” Miles swore. “We don’t have nearly enough supplies to get back to the fort in heavy snow. We’ll have to find a secure building to set up camp in this damn city.”

“There’s no way out?” Ed squeaked fearfully.

“Um… ‘scuse me?” Yoki poked his head out from behind a corner, making all of them jump. Cross at being forgotten, he crossed his arms, but continued, “Isn’t this a mining town? You can just use the tunnels.” When they all stared disbelievingly at him, he frowned. “What? Did you not assume they’d have those? This place is so big I’d bet that they lead all over the mountains!”

Miles drew out a map, searching the legend for one indicator, and then said, “He’s right. There’s a path that will lead right towards Briggs, so we can send you along, Doctor. You take your group to the fort while we stall Kimblee here. I’ll write a note for you to take with you for when you meet up with our soldiers, explaining the situation and with orders to assist you.”

As he did just that on a scrap of paper someone handed him and Marcoh gathered May to get her moving, Becca asked, “So Winry and Scar can go with them, but what should we do? Kimblee is definitely going to think we had something to do with them escaping.”

“What if…” Winry started, biting her thumb nail guiltily. Becca’s stomach dropped. “What if you didn’t have a choice but to let him escape? Because he’d taken me as a hostage?”

“What?!” Ed squawked. “Are you insane?!”

If Becca’s heart had already dropped to her toes, then that must have been her stomach following it. Still, reluctantly, she said, “Scar takes her while we try to stop him. It’s a good plan.”

“Don’t encourage her!”

Al touched her shoulder. “Winry, you don’t have to-”

“Yes, I do!” Winry said hotly. “If putting my life at risk is the best way to get us all out of here alive, then I’ll do that! I’m so sick of sitting around, doing nothing, while you guys put yourselves in so much danger!”

“We are not letting you go with Scar!” Ed said.

“‘Let’ me?” she fired back. “You don’t have to ‘let’ me do anything, Edward! How about this? I’m not going to let you two handle this crap on your own anymore! I’m already involved because they’re taking me hostage, so the least that I can do it fight back as best I can!”

“Make up your minds!” Miles demanded, handing the note he’d written to Marcoh and getting between Ed and Winry. “Kimblee will be here any minute, and we’re at serious risk of getting stuck in this building if we don’t move now.”

Ed ground his teeth, jaw tight, and finally relented. “Fucking- fine! Fine! But Scar,” he said, whipping around to shove his finger warningly into Scar’s chest, “if anything happens to even one hair on her head, and- and-”

“I know,” Scar said. “I will keep my word.”

He growled one more time and gave in, clapping his hands and freeing Scar from the pillar Becca had stuck him in. Then he promptly stalked off to a window where a few soldiers were monitoring Kimblee’s approaching troops. Winry almost looked like she was going to follow him, but stayed put. Becca and Al shared a look. Becca moved towards Winry while Al trailed after Ed. Miles conversed with the chimeras in his low voice, but the teenagers weren’t exactly paying attention.

“You should try to talk to him before you go,” Becca said.

Winry huffed. “I’m not apologizing.”

“I don’t think you have to,” Becca said, holding up her hands. “You just- you never know what can happen with missions like this. If something goes wrong, you don’t want the last thing you say to one another to be an argument.”

She sighed deeply, exhausted. “You’re right. I don’t even know why it made me so angry today. I couldn’t stand being treated like a child.”

“He doesn’t mean to. You know that. He’s just-”

Protective ,” she and Winry said at the same time, then both girls smiled tightly at each other.

“Yeah,” Winry mumbled. “And I get it. But I also can’t stand it sometimes.”

“I get it, I just don’t want you to go into this endeavor with regrets, you know?”

“Alright, pack it up,” Miles called to everyone. “We’ve got to move out.”

Soldiers jumped into action at once. The two chimeras had been untied, though their hands were left bound, and they’d gotten to their feet. Marcoh, May, Scar, and Yoki had fallen into what were obviously familiar ranks, with Scar at the head, Yoki bringing up the rear, and the doctor and princess in between, and Ed and Al had at least turned around to receive further instructions. It was time.

“Oh, Miss Winry!” one man said as he passed. “You’ll want to take off your earrings before you leave. You’ll freeze your ears right off!”

“Oh, thank you!” Winry said, her hands flying up to the silver decorating her ears. She plucked each piece of jewelry out and handed them to Becca. “Speaking of arguments, are you two okay?”

“Us two?”

“You and Ed. You seem to be… bickering more than usual.”

Becca tucked the earrings into an inside pocket of her jacket. “Us? Oh, don’t worry, Winry, we’re fine. Focus on this today. We’ll figure it out.”

“Alright,” she said hesitantly, tugging Becca in for a hug. She squeezed tightly and Becca squeezed right back, burying their faces in the others shoulders. “Don’t go into this with regrets either, okay?”

“Everything will be fine,” Becca whispered back. “We’ll see you back at the fort.” When they let go, Becca patted her on the back and gently urged her towards the Elrics. “But just in case, go talk to him. He’s misguided, but he is trying to help. To keep you safe.”

“I will. And you too, once you have time.”

“I will.”

They bundled Winry off, scarf wrapped tightly around her neck and coat buttoned up. Becca hadn’t eavesdropped, letting the Elrics and Winry have their moment while she helped to pick up some of the mess they’d made to erase any trace of their long planning session, but they were a bit more at ease when they came back. Ed and Al each gave her a hug before Scar grunted, “Let’s go,” and the group heading to Briggs made their way to the roof.

“Alright, now you have to act distressed-” Miles coached as the rest of them went down the stairs to the main door, but keeping out of sight of any windows.

“It won’t be acting,” Ed said darkly.

Miles swallowed. “Very well. Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

He cleared his throat, then barked, “Why’d you idiots let him get away?”

Right according to the plan, Ed shoved the door open and they all spilled out into the snow again, which, as they knew, had gotten much worse. “Kimblee, you bastard!” Ed howled, stomping up to the man in question and fisting his collar in one movement. “Why was she here? You told me you’d keep Winry safe!”

Ed was the main actor, but Becca couldn’t say that the distress on her face required much effort either even as she fell to the back, instead choosing to look anxiously around at their surroundings, like she didn’t know what they were about to go up against.

And suddenly Will was at her back, jogging over and asking, “Rebecca! What happened?”

Oh. She could turn up the hysterics for her dear brother. “What happened?” she said rhetorically, voice shrill. “What happened is that my friend’s been kidnapped! And it’s all your people’s faults!”

Chapter 48: marcid

Notes:

hellooo, my dears!

me when i agree to work four jobs: :)

me when i have to actually work those and end up working for 13 hours straight multiple times a week: :(

ne ways, sorry this is late, and sorry in advance for some inevitable typos, i have not edited this and (as seen above) i've been a little busy lol. otherwise, my summer is going well and i hope all y'all's are too!

since this chapter's so late, its extra long, and the next couple are going to be major plot chapter so get hyped!!! we're getting some resolutions, some character development, and some good cathartic feels.

its almost one am but i wanted to get this up before i went to bed so goodnight/good morning/good afternoon, i'll see y'all later, and pleaseeee feel free to talk to me in the comment section about literally anything, i get really bored at work.

marcid (adjective)- withered, incredibly exhausted

Chapter Text

Sure enough, when they craned their heads up to the top of the building, Scar’s silhouette loomed over all of them. Winry was laying limp over one of his shoulders.

“You son of a bitch!” Ed howled, shaking Kimblee around by his collar, and, though he wasn’t phased, too occupied glaring furiously up at Scar, he kept doing it anyway. “The men at the cars were supposed to keep an eye on her! We had Scar right where we wanted him and now he’s escaped with a hostage!”

“Are your men so incompetent that you can’t watch over one child?” Miles asked as he shouldered his way through the group. “Your squad was in charge of Miss Rockbell’s safety.”

“Winry Rockbell? Is that-?” Will asked from behind Becca. One of his gloved hands fell on her shoulder and she jumped although the touch wasn’t rough in the slightest. The thick gloves he’d been given made it feel more like a stuffed animal had landed on her, but the all too familiar specialization– a few metal rings around the fingers mimicking the rings he’d had years ago that he’d transmuted into claws– felt all too real.

“Get off!” she snapped, throwing him off and resisting the urge to rub at the scar in the notch of her neck. Will was swallowed by a herd of Miles’ men, successfully blocking his path if he attempted to come at her again, but the more pressing problem was the sentiment Kimblee echoed while easily flicking off Ed’s grip like it was a few drops of rain, or perhaps blood, staining his white suit.

“Get out of my way,” he hissed, almost too quiet for them to hear, then, when Ed didn’t back off, Kimblee shoved him, making him stumble back into the snow. He prepared to clap, the tattoos on his palms flashing, and with Ed still off-balance, Becca’s eyes widened.

“Stop!” she shouted and ran to intercept his hands from meeting, grabbing his wrists and straining against him to keep them apart. “What the hell are you doing?!”

“Rebecca! Let him go!” Will shouted from within the crowd. Vaguely, Becca recognized it, not as a command, but almost as a plea. 

Luckily, Ed was on his feet again and managed to grab one of Kimblee’s hands from Becca, wrenching it away. “Have you lost your mind, Crimson Lotus?”

“Let go of me if you two know what’s good for you,” Kimblee ordered, eerily soft.

Before they could retort, Scar evidently got antsy and an explosion echoed over all of their heads. The snow blew up around them and they could do nothing but watch as Scar’s shadow got smaller and smaller, then disappeared with Winry’s prone form on his shoulder. Even though she knew Winry was only faking unconsciousness and she was, in fact, safer now than she would have been if she’d stayed, Becca couldn’t stop the anxious wave that overtook her body, heart clenching as they faded away. Still, the stony expression on her face didn’t require much faking.

Kimblee, however, howled in rage and ripped his wrists out of their grasps. Becca and Ed tumbled away onto their backs, but Kimblee didn’t flinch, shouting, “Don’t you dare run from me!”

“Mr. Kimblee, no! It’s dangerous in there, you can’t follow him!” one of his own men yelped, rushing forward to restrain him when it became obvious that the Crimson Lotus Alchemist, the bloodlust visible in his eyes, was planning to give chase. He snapped and snarled at the soldier, thrashing about in his grip until a whole group was holding tightly to his arms and chest in order to keep him in place. Al swooped in to gather up Becca and Ed and shepherd them out of Kimblee’s line of sight, and Briggs troops closed ranks around them as another, bigger explosion boomed through the air, this one stemming from Kimblee’s tattooed hands.

The entire world rumbled in response, piles of snow shuddering and collapsing from the force, and the wind was only getting worse the longer they stayed out here. They’d planned to retreat anyway, but it was getting to the point that it was going to be integral to do so as soon as possible.

“Retreat! Get to shelter!” Miles’ orders rang out above the noise.

“Sir, we need to go if we don’t want to die,” she could just barely hear one of Kimblee’s soldiers saying. “He won’t be able to go anywhere either. Or he’ll die trying.”

The Briggs men surrounding them started to hustle them along, though Ed dragged his feet, still anxiously checking the rooftop as if Scar would reappear. A bit dazed, Becca thought that this storm really had come at the best time, trapping those of them still outside but allowing the party in the mines an extra few precious hours to escape undetected to safety. She tried to wrap an arm around Ed’s hunched shoulder as gently as she could. “Come on. We need to get inside.”

Ducking out from her grip (and Becca tried to ignore the stab through the heart that that particular action caused),  with a pointed look right at her, he vented, “She shouldn’t have even come out of that building. The fact that Winry’s life is in Scar’s hands makes me want to vomit.”

“If you’re going to do that, please hold off until we reach safety,” Miles said dryly.

“Taloned, with me,” Kimblee said curtly when they managed to barricade themselves into one of the slightly sturdier abandoned buildings. “Miles as well. I want to strategize.”

Becca never thought she’d be thankful for Kimblee, but Will’s suspicious, lingering glances from his spot within the ranks were getting a little hard to deal with, so the sight of his back as he begrudgingly followed the order was a relief.

Relief shifted into stress as the hours went by and they didn’t see Miles, Kimblee, or Will, and the three of them just sat in uncomfortable silence while the soldiers from the north buzzed around them. In the crushing silence, Becca had no choice but to ponder and wonder. She hadn’t really been able to see it earlier, on the verge of a panic attack and swinging wildly between anger and pain and regret, but Will had seemed so earnest when they’d talked, when he’d offered to help. At the time, Becca didn’t allow herself to even consider it at the time, but after his softer touches and the way he’d sounded… scared as she faced off with Kimblee, she couldn’t help but speculate. Maybe… maybe something had changed. He’d never tried to lie to her before when chasing her down. Why start now, when he had to know she was least likely to believe him?

Before she knew it, another night had passed and Becca hadn’t slept a wink. She’d hovered right between consciousness and unconsciousness but with the tension in the air and the worry rattling around in her brain, she hadn’t been able to cross that threshold into the darkness of slumber, always hyperaware of her surroundings. As such, she perked up first when she heard a new set of footsteps, seconds before Miles slammed the door open. She checked her watch. Just passed 4 am.

“We have a problem,” the major said solemnly.

“Don’t we always?” Ed mumbled, flat on his back on the floor with one arm resting over his eyes.

“Major Armstrong has been removed from Northern Command,” Miles said. “And moved to Central. The soldiers that accompanied General Raven have no doubt been given orders to take over Briggs in her absence.”

“Fuck,” Ed breathed, at the same time that Becca let out an indignant, “What?! They can’t do that!”

Miles made a face, scowling in disgust. “The orders likely came from Fuhrer Bradley himself since I heard Kimblee making all these phone calls to him while we were still at the fort.”

“And if Major General Armstrong is gone-” Al started.

“Then they’re sure to put a puppet in her place any day now,” Miles finished. “Your friend won’t be safe there like we thought. We’ve played right into our enemies’ hands.”

“Well, we- we can warn them. Redirect them,” Becca suggested hesitantly. “Somehow.”

They absolutely could not do that. The snow storm they’d thought had been their saving grace was turning into yet another obstacle with startling speed.

“We didn’t send a radio with them, sir,” one of the lower ranking soldiers said quietly. “And there’s no way we’ll be able to send anyone to intercept them, not in this blizzard.”

“Well, I’ll go if there’s no other way,” Ed butted in.

“Ed, you can’t possibly do that,” Becca said. When he scowled at her, she raised her hands in surrender and pointed out, “I’m just saying, unless that mess out there clears up-”

“-Which it won’t,” Miles said with finality.

Ed crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll figure something out, we can’t just abandon them!”

“Guys-”

“We may not have a choice,” hummed Miles.

“Hey, we could-”

Glaring at the major, Becca said, “We won’t abandon them, but we need to keep our heads on straight. It won’t do anyone any good if you die from the cold on your way there.”

“Hey!”

As one, all three attempting to strategize turned to the edge of the group where Al was staring down at his hand, fingers flexing in to and out of a fist. “There’s another way.”

“Al?” Ed asked, hesitant, almost reluctant, and shouldering them all aside to get to Al.

I won’t freeze,” Al explained. “I don’t get tired or hungry. I could go without any supplies, so Kimblee wouldn’t notice them missing.”

“But-” Ed faltered. He scrunched up his entire body, shoulders rising up to his ears and expression screwing up, and he wore his thoughts, his distress at going through with the best option they had, so legibly on his face, and Becca just wanted to reach out and soothe him somehow. God knows he wanted no such thing, though, so she refrained, swallowing thickly as those same fears assuaged her. “But alone? Really?” Ed managed to say feebly.

“You have to trust him. He’ll be okay,” Becca tried to reassure. It didn’t work as well as she’d hoped it would. Ed sucked in a breath, not convinced, and he was still frowning, but he didn’t argue- couldn’t argue with the golden opportunity sitting right in front of them.

“Um, sir? Kimblee might not notice the supplies missing,” one soldier said awkwardly, “but I think he might notice Alphonse Elric missing.”

Becca winced. That would throw a wrench in things.

Or, at least, it would for anyone less focused on the mission than Major Miles, who barely flinched. “Of course. That’s what alchemy is for, isn’t it?”

“Will you guys be okay if I leave?” Al asked Becca as he readied to leave. She was studying him intently and making mental notes so she could help Ed to transmute a replica of his body and recreate his likeness to the best of their ability. Leave it to Kimblee to somehow notice that they’d forgotten the three inch scratch on his shoulder.

As such, it took her a moment to realize he’d even spoken, then another to fully process what he said. “Huh?” She shook her head. “Sorry. I mean- of course. We’re fine, Al. Why?”

If it was possible for a suit of armor to look guilty, Al certainly did for bringing the topic up. “It’s just… you guys seem to be reacting somewhat… badly. To everything that’s been happening.”

“You seem to be… bickering more than usual,” Winry had said before. Becca ran a hand through her hair, heaving a heavy sigh.

“Everyone’s a little wound tight,” she assured, trying to smile. “We just express it in different ways and we clash sometimes. Don’t worry about us.”

“I’m not worried,” he insisted. He sounded worried. “I just want you guys to be okay.”

Gently, Becca reached over to where he’d begun to wring his hands in his lap and pried his fingers apart. “We’ve bickered before,” she said, patting his forearms soothingly. “Nothing’s ever happened that we can’t get past. You concentrate on getting through this and helping the others. Everything’s going to settle down and we’ll be fine.”

Speak of the devil, Ed reappeared in the doorway with a heap of scrap metal, cutting off their conversation by dumping his towering armful onto the floor next to them with a clatter. Al flinched and Becca drew her hands away, folding them over her knees. “This should be enough,” he said haltingly. “As long as Kimblee doesn’t look too close.”

For all of their sanity, Becca bit back a response on how likely that was. Instead, she just said, “Alright. Let’s get started.”

Soon enough, they had a workable, hollow copy of Al’s body and a somewhat willing co-conspirator to hide in it. Really, the poor soldier had lost in cards where the bet was who would have to lug the giant suit of armor around all day. Miles instructed the men to tell Kimblee he’d taken their resident State Alchemists back to the cars to get a radio phone to attempt to contact base if he came whilst they were gone, and finally, it was time for Al to go. They were silent slinking through the hallways to a side exit that they knew none of Kimblee’s men were watching, but when they finally got out into the snow, barely shaded by an overhang, they were immediately all over each other. Miles stepped back inside, giving them time alone to say goodbye. 

Al knelt down and, despite the tension between them, both Ed and Becca got up on their toes to wrap their arms around his shoulders. Metal wound around their waists and all three of them squeezed tightly. Tears welled up in Becca’s eyes until she wiped them away, and she pretended to not see Ed’s white gloves streak across his face as well as they pulled back.

“Be safe,” she murmured, pressing a kiss to Al’s already freezing cheek.

Ed knocked affectionately on the top of his helmet. “We’ll catch up to you soon, okay?”

“I know,” Al said softly. He patted them both as the shoulders, getting to his feet. “You two keep each other safe.”

Before any of them could second-guess the decision, Al backed up, waved one more time, and turned, vanishing into the blizzard. They stood in silence for a few moments, not Fullmetal and Illusion, just Ed and Becca, and she tried to comfort him, to take his hand, only for him to turn sharply on his heel and head back inside without a word. Becca sighed, then trailed after him.

“Kimblee can’t actually do alchemy like Ed, Al, and I can, not by himself,” Becca explained, sitting criss-cross on the cold floor. “It looks like he can, but it’s an illusion. Um, no pun intended. He has one transmutation circle on each hand that functions essentially as yin and yang.” Spreading her hands, she gestured to each palm as she detailed, “There’s the sun in a downward-facing triangle on the left and moon with an upward-facing one on the right, and when he claps his hands, the triangles make a hexagram, or a six-pointed star, which represents the four basic elements that ancient alchemists believed in: earth, fire, water, and air, which then creates-” She clapped her hands together, the sharp sound echoing through the empty room, then simply said, “Boom.”

The soldiers gathered around her, including Miles and Ed, blinked wordlessly, and she shifted awkwardly. “My father made me memorize the techniques used by current State Alchemists.” She moved on quickly, continuing, “Major William Harper is in a similar boat, except I’m pretty sure he had a bunch of little circles on his rings. They’re iron and when he touches his hands together, the circles activate and make these claws, hence his codename. Up here, I think the rings are connected to the outside of his gloves to protect against the cold.”

“Right,” Miles said curtly. “So we need to take out at least one of both of their hands?”

“Normally, that would work just fine, but Kimblee has a Philosopher’s Stone which will cause problems for us. It’s this red stone about ye big.” Ed held up a clenched fist to demonstrate. “He keeps it inside his body and its internalized power allows him to transmute without a circle.”

“It’s really only that big, but it gives him all that power?” one of the Briggs soldiers clarified.

“Even a tiny Stone has an insane amount of power as an amplifier,” Becca said gravely. “If one as big as you’re thinking of was created, then- well- the process and the aftermath would be catastrophic. An unimaginable number of people would have to be sacrificed.”

The soldier went white, looking a bit sick, but Miles was as collected as always. “Alright. Start getting everyone ready. We need to take advantage of the element of surprise.”

“Snipers, sir?”

“Yes. We need to bring down Kimblee first, then the Taloned Alchemist, then those two big guys from Central they brought with them. Nobody else. This operation needs to be completed in secrecy.”

“Yes, sir.”

Becca’s blood turned to ice in her veins at the mention of Will’s title and the fate Miles had decided on for him, but she didn’t open her mouth to protest. Protests based in emotion wouldn’t phase Miles, geared towards efficiency and order to a ruthless degree, and she knew he, like all commanders at Briggs, needed a reason that wasn’t ‘because it’s morally wrong’ to convince them not to do something.

So Becca could relate, what about it? 

Ed, however, better than the rest of them combined, didn’t waste time trying to strategize a reason to keep them alive. “‘Brought down’?” he asked, brow furrowing. “You mean you’re going to kill them?”

“Of course. It sounds clear to me that Kimblee is too dangerous to be left alive, and those closest to him are likely the same.”

“Well, I can understand that the world might be better off without Kimblee,” Becca said, trying to keep her voice even and unshaken, which came a little too easily, “but his companions might be able to provide some information from Central. Isn’t it worth at least trying to capture them, or leading them away from Kimblee and offering them the chance to surrender? It’s not like we don’t have the numbers to restrain and interrogate them if they put up a fight.”

“Or those they might not even know the full story!” Ed said, face flushing at their brazenness. “We can’t just kill them because of something they may or may not be a part of!”

“Even if any of that was true, why would that change my decision? Should we waste valuable resources and time? Risk them escaping and letting the enemy know that we’re onto them?” Miles shook his head decisively. “No. Leaving any of them alive poses too much of a threat. They need to be taken care of quickly and quietly.”

“But that’s-!” he ground out, his temper only barely under control as Becca put a hand on his arm, rubbing in what she hoped was a comforting manner, only to have him yank away and explode, “That’s not fair! It’s not right!”

Becca flinched while Miles’ blank, sunglasses-covered eyes stared down at the two of them. “The first rule of Briggs,” he reminded, “is survival of the fittest. There’s no room for soft hearts here, and your soft-heartedness might just get you or someone you care about killed.”

Neither of them had anything to say to that. Logically, Becca knew he was right, though she didn’t want to admit it.

As if on cue, there was a knock on the rickety door, and Will poked his head in. Thank God they’d thought to make the decoy Al already. Though it was empty, they’d positioned it to look like it was sitting up and Will barely cast a look at it. Unwillingly, Becca felt her heart drop into her stomach at the sight of her brother, though if it was fear of him or fear for him, she couldn’t tell. He glanced around at the obvious tension in the room. “Major Kimblee requests that Major Miles join him for a strategy meeting to catch Scar.”

“Thank you, Major Harper. I’ll be there in a moment,” Miles said smoothly like he hadn’t just been plotting Will’s assassination moments earlier. 

Will nodded, lingering in the doorway. Arms crossed awkwardly over his chest and pressed into the corner, he actually resembled the gangly teenager who’d been one of her only saving graces from childhood, and Becca couldn’t stop herself. “Major Harper?” she said quickly, as straight-faced as she could manage as Ed elbowed her in the side. When Will’s almost hopeful gaze flew to her, she bit her lip, took a breath, and simply said, “Watch your back.”

Cool. Open-ended. He could take it as a warning or a threat.

He paused, bewildered, and before he could reply, Miles and one of his soldiers joined him at the door and steered him into the hallway. As he left, Miles said over his shoulder, “Good attempt at logical reasoning, though, Illusion. I almost believed that was your only motivation.”

Becca didn’t reply, glaring at his back, until the trio’s footsteps had faded down the hall and she turned to the rest of the men. With Miles gone, she and Ed were now technically the highest-ranking officers in the room, so one of them needed to take charge, and Ed seemed a little too deep in thought to do so. She took a deep breath and said, “Alright. So Kimblee is almost ready to get back out there, which needs we need to be too. Gear up.”

The man selected to play Al gave the most laborious sigh of all as he stood up and started climbing into the armor.

"Move as little as possible while still being convincing to save your energy,” Becca suggested as she put the helmet in place, sealing him inside. “We tried to make it as light as we could.”

"Yes, ma’am."

She suppressed a shudder of discomfort at being called “ma’am”, especially from someone wearing Al’s visage, and Ed knocked on the metal, the dull sound ringing through the room. "Don't sound so stuffy. Kimblee could be right outside this door and you're supposed to be Al."

"Oh- uh-" the decoy strained his voice from the deep bass of a grown man, trying to mimic Al's higher tenor. "Sounds good, Big Brother!"

Becca put her head in her hands. "We're never going to get away with this."

Ed made a face, patting the suit of armor's head awkwardly and saying, "Talk as little as possible too.”

Once he was settled, there was nothing else to do but wait, and wait they did. Most of the soldiers stayed in small groups, smoking or playing cards, while Ed huddled into a spot on the floor and Becca paced back and forth in front of him.

“Why would you warn him?” Ed said after a few minutes of silence. When Becca raised an eyebrow, he clarified, “Your brother. You told him to watch his back. You could have tipped him off if he’s in on it with Kimblee.”

“Well, that’s the thing,” Becca said, running a hand through her hair as she continued back and forth, back and forth. “He might not. I mean, he’s my brother, so I still know him, and I’ve been thinking-”

“God, Becca, he tried to kill you! Multiple times!” he jutted in. “Why are you still sticking up for him?”

Oh. She looked at him for the first time, with a stormy look in his golden eyes, and belatedly realized that this wasn’t just curiosity. Ed was angry with her. And in all the hustle and bustle, now that she thought about it, she hadn’t thought to recount what had gone down between her and Will while they were at the fort. He didn’t know of the pleas he’d made towards her nor of the stirring of something like trust- or a yearning for it- that had been brewing in every second she’d thought about it since then.

“No, no, no, listen!” she said, simultaneously wanting to straighten her posture to make the point and shrink away in defense.

“Becca, you have to know that I’m having a bit of trouble listening to you about this!” he exclaimed, springing up from his position on the ground. “He’s bad news and, he’s- he’s your blind spot-”

“Oh, God,” she said unthinkingly, then clapped her hand over her mouth when she realized what she’d done.

The sarcasm took Ed aback for a moment and he opened his mouth, closed it, and finally settled on glowering at her. “Your track record with his morals isn’t exactly encouraging.”

“You don’t get to decide my relationship with him. Things might have changed. I don’t know yet, but I just need a little more time with him.”

Raising his hands defensively, he said, “I’m just trying to look out for you, Bex!”

“That’s the problem!”

“What?”

“I’m not going to hide from my big, bad brother behind you!”

“I don’t believe for a second that he’s not in on this too! You can’t trust him!”

“You don’t have to trust him! Hell, I don’t trust him yet!” she said, fiddling with her necklace. “But you can trust me, can’t you? You were just saying we can’t just execute Kimblee’s soldiers without trying to get through to them-”

“They’re different! He was pardoned by the Fuhrer!”

“To get to me! To dangle him in front of me-”

“Which just shows my point!”

“God, I can’t deal with you like this,” she huffed out. “You’re my partner, not my babysitter.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He wants it straight, he’ll get it straight. Becca opened her mouth and, before she could think better of it, “Fine. You’re overprotective, Ed! I know you like to be in control and I love that you just want what’s best for everyone, but you’ve got to let me make my own choices!” fell out. Ed’s nostrils flared, his lips pursing, and he folded his arms over his chest. Becca swallowed, but didn’t take it back.

“Alright,” he said, pointedly light. “You do what you want.”

“I will.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

Sure enough, the entire group was soon summoned back together as the weather finally died down, and subsequently split into teams to pick up the search. Kimblee, Will, and the remaining pair of their escorting guard set off first after Kimblee ordered the rest of them to spread out, dead set on the center of town.

“Kimblee isn’t stupid,” Miles murmured to his men as they slipped down a side street. “He’s assigned his group to search the mines. Have snipers set up along the path to the central tower.”

Before they all lost sight of each other, Becca cast one more glance at her brother, only to jolt in surprise when her eyes met his bright blue ones, already looking at her. He blinked as well, then gave her what she wanted to believe was a surreptious look and said something to Kimblee. Kimblee’s jaw tensed, but he nodded, and Will ducked away.

On instinct, Becca took a step to follow, only to stop herself in the nick of time. Well, not quite in the nick of time, since Ed noticed and grimaced. However, with Miles distracted directing his snipers to more specific spots to hide out and with even the soldier playing Al at rapt attention, they had to snatch up this opportunity to sneak off. To argue right now wouldn’t help anyone.

So they trailed to the back, let the other soldiers pass them, and finally stepped away from the group and into the shadows, freshly fallen snow muffling their footsteps. Not touching, but waiting with bated breath, they stood nearly shoulder to shoulder until the rest of their group was out of earshot. Even then, when they spoke, they still whispered.

“You go after Kimblee. I should-”

“Yeah, yeah, go try to fix him. Again.”

And no, hearing him sound so defeated didn’t feel good , and she wasn’t lying when she’d told Winry to not leave with regrets, so she tried to prompt just a bit more discussion, to allow them to talk just a bit more with, “Ed, I-”

“Go. I’ll handle Kimblee,” he said before walking off towards the tower Kimblee and his men had set their sights on.

Becca watched him go with a horrible sinking feeling and she couldn’t quite stop the tiny voice in her head taunting her, Coward, coward, coward , as she set off in another direction to find Will.

Ed was right. Everything in this city seemed so much bigger than anything Becca had ever had to deal with. It was certainly the coldest and emptiest place she’d ever been– which said a lot, because the military had sent her to a fuck ton of cold, empty places over the past few years. Somehow, shivering despite the extra layers they’d been given at the fort, growing more and more fatigued by the hour, more anxious than usual, and most unusually, totally alone, Baschool was racing closer and closer to her least favorite place in the world with each step.

“I read Victor’s letter last night.”

Scratch that. She was not totally alone. 

Maybe Becca wasn’t on top of her game from how distracted she was, or maybe the cold and the hunger were starting to get to her, or maybe he’d just outsmarted her. No matter the case, Becca jumped, already throwing a punch as she spun around, which Will, to her annoyance, caught and twisted. Thankfully, it was only enough to freeze her in place, not break it. Stll, being in such a vulnerable position where he could snap her wrist with one more movement wasn’t exactly her favorite place to be. “God!” she grunted, yanking her arm out of his grasp, which he allowed, stepping a safe distance away from her. She massaged her shoulder, swinging her arm back and forth a few times, but didn’t try to retaliate. Yet. “What the hell?”

“I read the letter last night,” he repeated. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

Becca’s mouth went dry. “If I’m honest, I really just didn’t want to carry it around anymore,” she said, sounding more casual than she felt. “Something something representative of hope.” Will gave her an incredulous look and she quickly doubled down and moved on. “Or, you know. Something like that. Anyway, what are you doing here, Will?”

“Why’d you follow me?” he replied cyclically. “Major Miles should have all hands on deck if he’s planning an assassination.”

At his flippant attitude, Becca choked on the breath she was taking to calm her racing heart. She coughed, finding herself suddenly unable to close her eyes to recover due to the fear now pulsing through her. Without an element of surprise, there was no way the plan would succeed. “You know?” she gasped out. “ He knows?”

“Of course he knows! The man has a sixth sense for death!”

“Oh, my God,” she said, one hand flying up to clutch at the chain around her neck in an attempt to stave off the rising panic. She had to get back to the group- no, she had to find Ed, tell him he was right, and then go back to the group and warn them before Kimblee could-

She hadn’t noticed that Will had kept talking until he waved a hand in front of her face. “Rebecca. Rebecca!”

“What?” she snapped before reining herself in. Will had already drawn back again, though, and she forced herself to go on. “So what?” she said, quieter, sharper, more restrained. “Does Kimblee want a distraction so he can sneak into the mines? Because I can’t think of why he’d play along instead of killing us all when we were gathered at the camp.”

“I don’t know what his plan is,” Will said. “He doesn’t trust me. He doesn’t tell me anything he doesn’t have to. But he’s dangerous, so much more dangerous than you know-”

“I doubt that,” Becca said, rolling her eyes.

“So I had to get you out of the way-”

“Get me out of the way?” she sputtered.

“I- I don’t mean it like that! It came out wrong, I just mean- I knew you’d follow me, and I… figured I wouldn’t be missed, so I had to make sure you-”

“What are you getting me out of the way for?” Becca said. When Will didn’t answer, toeing awkwardly at the ground, she grew more insistent, asking, “Why did you lead me here?”

“I-”

Whatever he was going to say got drowned out by yet another explosion that shook the ground underneath them, an interruption which was quickly becoming much too regular. She whipped her head around without a second thought and focused in on the tower above the entrance to the mines, the apparent ground zero. The metal was still quivering, visible even from this distance.

There were very few people up here that were cocky enough for that move on the undoubtedly shaky ground in the area directly above the main entrance to the tunnels. But one of the few was exactly who Ed had gone to intercept.

And Becca had allowed herself to be separated from him, from everyone, to a remote location with the man who’d tried to kill her three times, upon whom the true weight of their current position seemed to be dawning if his widening eyes were to be believed.

“Rebecca, I- I didn’t-”

“You set me up!” she said, her voice going up an octave against the white hot sting of betrayal that struck through her chest for some reason.

“No! No, that’s not what I’m trying to do!” He stepped forward, reaching for her until she jerked away like he would burn her. “You have to believe me, this isn’t-”

“Get away from me!”

Stupid! that voice jeered as she bolted, headed to the tower and praying it wouldn’t be too late. So stupid!

“Rebecca, wait!”

Their two sets of footsteps pounded through the snow until Becca suddenly came face to face with a wall. Becca swore, didn’t bother looking behind her, and transmuted a column to boost herself up to the roof to keep moving. There was a few seconds of silence before another crackle from a transmutation and she heard Will land right behind her, continuing the chase from rooftop to rooftop.

When they reached the point of origin of the explosions, though, there were no people to be seen, only a bright white cloud of snow obscuring a town square. Shouts and clangs of metal echoed from within the cloud and she was only barely able to stop herself from toppling off the edge of the building to join the fight, only saved when Will’s iron grip clapped around her and pulled her back. 

“No!” Becca shouted, fighting against her brother’s hold. A white-haired head poked out of one of the windows at the new addition to the commotion, Miles’ sunglasses reflecting the sunlight into her eyes as he looked up at them. Becca stamped on Will’s foot, forcing him to let go, and called, “What happened?!”

“Why is he here?” Miles shot back.

“That doesn’t matter! Where’s Ed?”

She could see the major’s deadpan expression from her perch and he pointed downwards.

“Bex! Miles!” came Ed’s voice. “Stay out there! They’re chimeras so they can fight in low visibility- ah! Ouch!”

“Like hell,” Becca said, backing up from the edge of the roof.

Will seemed to realize her plan too late since she was already halfway to a sprint before he tried to grab her. She elbowed him to the side and leaped off the building and into the snow cloud.

“Rebecca!” he shouted before the rest of the world became muffled in the thick covering, and she could only see a few feet in either direction. She knew the other combatants were around here somewhere, but she couldn’t pinpoint their exact location, especially since she really had no idea what to look for when it came to Kimblee’s chimera soldiers. 

“Ed?” she whispered, hardly daring to hope.

His bright red coat appeared first as Ed emerged into her line of sight. He grabbed her upper arm, tugging her close. “Becca, what are you doing here?”

“You don’t have to do this by yourself,” she said, deadly serious. “Please. I’m on your side, always. Let me help.”

Ed stared her down, and finally, something in his eyes softened and he relented. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

She chanced a smile and, if they weren’t in the middle of a combat situation, she probably wouldn’t have been able to resist throwing her arms around him. As it was, she pivoted so they were back to back, ready to stop a foe from any direction. “Where’s Kimblee?”

“The bastard ran off. We need to subdue these two, then track him down.”

“My brother’s around here somewhere. I- I don’t know what’s up with him. He didn’t attack me-”

There was a crack nearby and they went silent, edging towards the hole at the center of the battleground where Kimblee had presumably disappeared into the mine shafts. When they got to the edge, Becca chanced a look over her shoulder at the short drop below to the first platform and inhaled sharply at the sight of crates and crates labelled Caution: Explosives . “Ed,” she said, thumbing down into the hole. “Look.”

Ed nodded shortly. “You first.”

He watched her back for attackers as she hopped down, and, in turn, Becca offered him a hand to guide him to the rickety wooden platform. They scrambled to pry the boxes open to reveal soaking wet sticks of dynamite.

“Dammit,” Ed muttered. “Dynamite is useless when it gets wet. The nitroglycerin has probably been washed away by now.”

“It can’t be used traditionally, but we could at least use it to scare them or something, right?” Becca suggested, fiddling with her necklace again. “There has to be something.”

Ed, however, had frozen in place. “Traditionally…” he said thoughtfully, staring down at the sticks in his hand. “And there’s more than just nitroglycerin-”

Will dropped into a crouch next to them, steps light enough to barely shake the platform they stood on. “There’s ammonia in dynamite too.”

“Would you stop that?” Becca said, her heart rate jumping as she felt Ed jolt next to her at his sudden appearance.

“Sorry,” Will said, sounding oddly earnest. “I just meant you could probably use ammonia for something. It’s poisonous in large amounts.”

“We’re not doing that, but I have another plan,” Ed said. He levelled a firm stare at Will, who shifted from foot to foot. “Are you on our side or not?”

Despite his obvious discomfort, Will stared right back. “I’m on your side. I can’t make you believe me, but I am.”

“If you’re on our side, then help us take down Kimblee,” Becca said, sharing a look with Ed. “Prove you’re not with him.”

“I will.”

Ed narrowed his eyes, but didn’t protest any more except to say, “Fine. But I’m watching you. Now listen up.”

Once he’d explained his plan and Becca had suggested one quick addition (ammonia, even in doses that weren’t poisonous, wasn’t exactly great for the human body, after all. Suggesting they make nose plugs was a no-brainer), she and Will retreated into the shadows on opposite sides of the platform. They were both unknown factors since the chimeras didn’t know they had arrived yet, or, if they had, at least hadn’t acknowledged them, and thus their enemies would have no escape. They waited, and waited, and waited, until the two chimeras made their way down, creeping towards Ed, who had his back turned to them and body shielding his box of dynamite from their view. Becca had to stifle a gasp at the sight of them and, next to her, Will choke back a surprised breath of his own.

Damn, if he hadn’t seen the chimeras animal forms– a lion and a gorilla– then he hadn’t been lying about Kimblee keeping secrets from him.

“Don’t come too close,” Ed said, faking cockiness as they’d planned as he revealed his open crate of dynamite sticks. “You know how touchy these can be.”

“You- you can’t do anything with those,” the lion chimera said, voice barely faltering at his confidence. “They don’t work once they’re wet. Good try, though, kid.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Ed said smoothly. “That’s not what these are for. Do you happen to know what dynamite is made of, boys?”

“Um… nitroglycerin… ammonium nitrate…” listed off the gorilla chimera, counting off on his fingers. “But what does that-?”

Ed stepped over his box, still keeping his head down, and readied his hands. Becca took the invitation and did the same, touching her hands together. Will lowered himself down so he could press the transmutation circle carved they’d carved into his box when they heard the cue. “And what is ammonium nitrate made of?”

“Nitric acid and…”

The chimeras paled and, in unison, said, “Ammonia.”

“Exactly!” Ed said, grinning as he lifted his head up to show the plugs in his nose. “Now!”

Three boxes of ammonia didn’t smell good to humans, but it must have been a thousand times worse for those with an animal’s nose. Both chimeras were on the ground in seconds, clutching their faces and groaning in pain. They didn’t have time to celebrate, though.

“Come on! Kimblee’s around here somewhere!” Ed shouted, escaping the cloud of ammonia and tossing his nose plugs out to the side. Becca and Will did the same, jogging alongside him. As they hit the carved stone walkway leading off the platform, Becca caught sight of a white tail of a coat disappearing into an offshoot cave on the next level down.

“There!”

After flinging themselves down, all three landed in the mouth of the cave, raising their arms and ready to fight. Kimblee only raised an unimpressed eyebrow at them.

Becca spoke first. “It’s over. Your bodyguards are down and you’re outnumbered.”

“Time for you to spill your guts,” Ed said threateningly, transmuting the blade on his arm where it had become a bit dull, resharpening it in preparation for this confrontation. “Tell us everything you know about what’s happening in this country.”

Frustratingly, Kimblee ignored both of them, instead turning to Will. “Taloned, this truly is disappointing,” he said plainly, slipping his hands into his pockets. Becca tensed. “I had some faith you could still turn out more like your father. I suppose I was wrong.”

Will said nothing, his jaw clenching.

Kimblee didn’t seem phased by the non-response. “Oh, well.” Dark blue eyes, holding intense, roaring oceans, the opposite of the icy calm in Will’s lighter pair, narrowed in on them from under Kimblee’s white cap. “I hope you weren’t expecting me to fight you. It would only end in grief and broken bones, and frankly,” He withdrew his hand from his pocket, “I have better things to do. I’m just going to give you a little demonstration before I go.”

He held up his hand, unclasping the fist and balancing a bright red Philosopher’s Stone between his thumb and index finger. Becca’s stomach lurched, but Ed’s focus only sharpened. His body stiffened and he leaned forward. Becca took a deep breath. Eyes on the prize. At least they wouldn’t have to pat him down for it or anything.

Ed shouted a battle cry and rushed forward and, for a second, Becca had to admire how well he’d adjusted to his new automail, and how much better he was able to move. If Winry was here, she might have even gushed with her about automail. But Winry wasn’t here and Becca wasn’t about to let Ed fight Kimblee alone, so she charged. Oddly enough, Will followed her without a moment’s hesitation, clapping his hands together and allowing the rings on his gloves to extend to the claws that had left the scar on her neck.

“Damn, you’re fast!” Kimblee said loudly, having to lunge backwards to escape all three of them. The casual grip he had on the Stone faltered quickly and it nearly fell. Ed swung for his torso while Becca went straight for the hand holding the Stone. Will tried to swipe at his legs or other arm, to incapacitate something, anything. Becca had a hand on his wrist, a foot in his ribcage, and a knee pressed to the junction between his shoulder and neck, straining, straining, straining and-

“Yes!” she said triumphantly, her fingers brushing the Stone.

“No!” Kimblee shouted, whipping around, nearly throwing them all off, and staggering back in an attempt to break free.

First, he stumbled over a piece of timber towards the entrance between the cave and the larger hole.

Then, he jerked his arm back, out of Becca’s grip, with all the strength he could muster.

Finally, the Philsopher’s Stone flew out of his hands from the force of his last movement.

It bounced, jingling far too merrily as all of them, Kimblee included, watched in horror, frozen and unable to move, and, almost in slow motion, tumbled over the edge and into the depths of the mines.

It was silent but for their breathing until-

“You brats!” Kimblee howled. “Do you know what you’ve done?”

That snapped them back into action. The Stone was gone for the moment and they needed to focus on the threat at hand. They could retrieve the Stone later to keep it from falling back into the wrong hands.

In the end, Will and Ed brought Kimblee’s rampage to an end, each slicing one of his palms and destroying his transmutation circles. Without the Stone helping him or his transmutation circles intact, Kimblee was as good as finished.

Or so they thought.

“Give it up!” Ed demanded. “We’ve got you! Surrender peacefully or-”

“Or what?” Kimblee said darkly. “You’ll kill me? No, you won’t. Nice policy, by the way. But have you ever noticed,” His eyes glinted and he licked his lips. Becca’s shoulders rose up to her ears, a sharp pain bursting through them from the tightening muscles as Kimblee finished, “that that shit leaves you awfully vulnerable?” Kimblee chuckled and a blood red something glistened in between his teeth. Becca’s first thought was actual blood and she prepared for him to spit at them, but then she looked close and her jaw dropped.

“How naive,” she heard Kimblee mock, moments before what felt like the entire world exploded around them.

Becca’s first instinct was to reach for Ed.

She saw his gold eyes, wrought with terror and anger and guilt, and she reached for his hand, and they touched, grasping at each others’ fingers as the mines collapsed underneath them. She tried to call out his name and he opened his mouth but neither could hear what the other said.

Honestly, with her blood pumping so loudly in her ears, she wasn’t sure she would have been able to hear him even if they were in absolute solitude.

However, Becca knew she made some noise because she felt a scream get ripped out of her throat as she fell. And she felt a ragged gasp rub wrong against her lungs as she tried to reach out, to hold Ed more tightly, to grab his wrist instead of his fingers, to ensure they wouldn’t be separated, not again. And she felt a broken sob rip from her chest when a metal support beam fell right onto their hands clasped on each others’ wrists and probably shatter them, forcing them to go limp and let go. When a falling rock slammed into her, knocking her sideways.

She hoped Ed called out for her, but how could she know if he did?

As she saw the ground approaching, Becca close her eyes, prepared for this to be the end.

Arms wrapped around her, gloved hands with iron rings tightening around her torso, and right before she hit the platform she was falling towards, Will turned them around so he hit first, shielding her. They slammed through the wooden platform and there was a sharp crack, along with a cry. Becca made a desperate grab for a pipe, spilling steam, sticking out of the wall and managed to hold onto it for only a second before the contact burned. She yelled in pain, both at the heat and what was probably her shoulder being yanked out of its socket, and let go.

They slammed into the stone floor.

Will didn’t move from under her.

Becca couldn’t move no matter how much she wanted to, shock pinning her in place.

The mines continued to fall around them and all Becca could do was watch.

Chapter 49: agape

Notes:

holo my dears!!!

lil late again but i been working and i been travelling ✌️😩 the good news is that i have had the next chapter planned and mostly written for quite literally months so regardless of circumstances it should be up by July 8th no matter what. i can't believe the northern arc is (relatively) almost over. i think its because i like it so much and it has a lot thats relevant for this story going on, so it seems like its going really quickly lol. but thats okay, i'm enjoying it while its here. depending on my schedule, i might try and knock out a few oneshots i've been meaning to get around to in the next few weeks, so keep an eye out for those.

on a semi-related note, happy pride! i don't think i've ever actually said it, but i wanted to let y'all know in anticipation of me going to pride tomorrow that 1) hello, i am an ace/generally queer person and 2) i've always thought of becca somewhere on the ace/demisexual spectrum. it hasn't come up in any convos in the main story, but i'd really like to have a oneshot focusing around becca coming to an understanding about her sexuality and identity because this fanfic is MY escapism project and i get to make the rules on how homophobia isn't real in this universe!!!

(tw for discussion of current events concerning the supreme court below, feel free to skip to the word definition if needed <3 just know i'm rooting for y'all)

so n e ways happy pride if you celebrate, i hope june has been amazing! i'm still reeling from the supreme court junk about maine and new york and abortion and religion and whatnot but i'm trying to keep my head up even tho its hard. i hope you guys are doing okay, but i totally get it if you're scared, angry, hurt, or just generally upset and unnerved by what's happening in america. there are plenty of resources for those who need help and those who want to help, and i highly recommend donating to abortion funds and protesting in a way that keeps you and your loved ones safe if you're able to.

sorry to get heavy there. the long and short of it is that i hope this can bring you a little bit of comfort in these tough times and feel free to vent in the comment section if you feel the need to. ily all, stay safe!

agape (noun)- selfless, sacrificial, unconditional love

Chapter Text

Her mind was somehow totally blank, yet, at the same time, it had never felt busier.

She wanted to move, wanted to scream, cry, even just groan as wave after wave of pain crashed over her, and yet she couldn’t. No matter how desperate she was, she couldn’t move. She tried to twitch fingers, toes, open her mouth to please, please, please be able to take a deeper breath than the shallow ones through her nose she managed to take now.

Becca didn’t know how long she laid there, unmoving and silent and shivering from cold and shock and pain. She hardly even breathed. Kimblee may or may not have fallen with them, she didn’t know, but he could be slinking around here somewhere.

After a while, though, the ache in her shoulder and the matching dull throbbing in her wrist overwhelmed her stupor and she sat up, scooting gingerly off of Will’s prone body and leaning heavily on her functioning right hand. Once she was steady enough, she pounded her chest a few times to jumpstart her heart again, and swivelled around as best she could without jostling her left arm. Will was sprawled peacefully underneath her, messy blonde hair spread like a halo around his head. Becca couldn’t count the mornings she’d woken up before him when they’d shared a curtained off room to see him passed out exactly like that on his own bed. She’d been the early bird while he was the night owl, the lamp on his half of the room silhouetting him through the curtain on her half during all hours of the night until he collapsed on top of his covers while Becca was tucked underneath hers, face pressed into the pillow. If she hadn’t just fallen who knows how many stories down with him, she might have thought she stumbled across him sleeping in the powdery snow.

Reaching out, hesitating like he might jump at her if she moved too fast, she brush a hand over his wrist until she found the pulse point. Any adrenaline rush that he’d had during the fall had worn off while Becca was trapped in her own head, so his heartbeat was steady. Healthy, even. Hers had slowed down as well, allowing the pain to seep in more and more, but also allowing her to feel less like she was going to die at any given moment, which was nice.

So the two of them were a little banged up, but alive. And totally alone. Becca had no idea about the fate of the others. Ed. The chimeras. Kimblee .

Best case scenario, Kimblee had died in the fall. Their luck didn’t usually work out that well, though, so Becca wasn’t going to get her hopes up. Conceivably, the chimeras were alive as well. Their comrades had been swayed to betray Kimblee, so maybe they could be as well. 

The possibility of Ed being anything but okay didn’t cross her mind. He wouldn’t let a little thing like gravity be the end of him, not when he still had so much to do. 

She’d been closest to him when they fell and, really, he was the only one of the missing four she actually needed to find, so she called out, “Ed?”

Her own voice, scratchy from the screaming, echoed back to her.

Ed?

Ed?

Ed?

Nothing. No response but for the few taps and cracks of all the debris settling, a few pieces of stone and wood around her making one final short tumble to the ground. Becca clambered to her feet, avoiding any pressure on her injured arm– and thank God, she’d reached out for that beam with the arm that had already had its wrist snapped, she didn’t know how she’d manage with both arms out of commission– and tried again.

“Edward?”

Edward?

Edward?

Edward?

Cradling her left arm, Becca staggered forward. Ed couldn’t have gotten far, right? Though he could have pinballed on the way down like her and Will, could have been knocked into a corner out of the way. He could be looking for her too, or he could be unconscious, or he could still be hell-bent on the mission and chasing down Kimblee to get the Stone out of his hands, and had left her behind. She hoped that wasn’t the case.

Will would be fine, she decided, glancing back over her shoulder at his prone form. There was a bruise blooming on his face, which certainly had matches down his chest from the fall, and his leg was definitely broken, laying next to him at an odd angle, but he seemed to be in otherwise stable condition. She couldn’t imagine she looked much better, but she had two working legs, so she could move. She had to move.

Becca stumbled away from Will, in the direction Ed had probably fallen.

The wreckage around her was nothing short of devastating. Any aftershocks had worn off, but the mines were in ruins, wood splintered and stone shattered and metal bent from where it had all come tumbling down. She trekked through the wreckage, rasping out Ed’s name as loud as she could manage until finally, there was a response. Not verbal, but the zap and blue flash of light that always accompanied a transmutation, followed by a choked groan. It was croaky and pained, but Becca would recognize him anywhere. She almost burst into tears then and there. Instead, she tripped over her own feet trying to get around the stone to where his voice was coming from, hitting the rock with her bad arm and crying out on instinct, but she didn’t care because she’d found him and they’d be able to get out of this together, she knew they would.

The brief yelp of pain died in her throat, though, when she rounded the obstacle and her eyes fell on Ed.

Ed, face down in the snow.

Ed, laying perfectly still in an expanding pool of red.

Ed, impaled through the stomach with a broken piece of rebar, the other half he’d transmuted off clattering down on his other side.

“Oh, my God,” Becca whispered as her legs failed her and she collapsed to her knees. She looked at the wound for a bit too long and her stomach churned. She clapped a hand over her mouth as the rations she’d forced herself to munch on while waiting out the storm, all that she could handle at the time, threatened to make a reappearance before she got herself under control and crawled forward until she could grab Ed’s sleeve. She clawed up his arm, shoving the sleeve back and pressing her fingers to the pulse point on his wrist. Slow- dangerously slow- but at least steady.

“Ed, Ed, Ed,” she said softly, letting his wrist drop in favor of unbuttoning her tan coat to get to the several layers of sweaters she’d been provided with back at the fort underneath it. Instincts that had been trained into her since birth– No one will stay if you get hurt, Rebecca, staunch the bleeding and get out of there – took over and she wrestled them off with her one functional arm, nearly ripping them in the process, then packed it as best as she could around the open parts of the wound. Screw her father and his cynicism, for Ed, she would stay. She dragged herself up and tapped frantically on his cheek. “Ed, can you hear me?”

She almost thanked Truth when his eyelids fluttered and unfocused gold eyes opened. Since she couldn’t exactly flip him over, she settled for tipping his head to the side and resting it on a small pile of snow. He coughed a few times and blood spattered out instead of spit. Tears welled up in Becca’s eyes again and she bit back a sob. “Ed…” she murmured, grabbing his hand. “I’m so… so sorry, Ed-”

He shook out of her grasp and, for a moment, she feared he was going to reject her. That he’d pull away and tell her he could get out of this alone, and that she’d have to fight him tooth and nail to save his life at the possible cost of his trust forever.

But he didn’t. He just raised his arm to rest his hand on her cheek as he blinked, gaze slowly focusing and sharpening. And he scratchily said, “Bex?”

Becca nodded, a movement he could feel, but said nothing. She tried to avoid looking at the blood or the rebar or the wound.

“You’re okay,” he mumbled, thumb tracing her cheekbone and eyes wide, like he couldn’t quite believe she was there. “Your brother?”

“Don’t worry about him right now,” she chastised.

“He’s alive?” he pressed. She hesitated, then nodded again. Ed returned the gesture slowly, mumbling to himself. “‘S okay. Woulda made you sad if he died.”

Great, he was delirious. Still, Becca had to try and fix things, just in case he didn’t- 

In case he didn’t-

“Ed, I’m so sorry,” she started, pushing the thought to the back of her mind. “For- for our fight, and-”

“Don’t-” he groaned, breaths labored, “don’t you dare. Don’t apologize.”

“But I-”

“‘S not just your fault.” He grinned, and the sight of his bloodstained teeth splitting through the mess on his face made Becca want to cry again, though she wasn’t sure if that was from joy or terror. “Been told by multiple sources that I- I can be a bit overprotective.”

Becca laughed wetly, wiping at her eyes under the guise of pushing her bangs back out of her eyes. “You have good intentions.”

“Still-” he said before she put a finger over his mouth.

“It’s okay.”

Ed gave her a look and simply said, “Later.”

“Later,” she repeated. She didn’t say Let’s hope you make it to “later” but she sure as hell was thinking it as she voiced, “We need to get you out of here. Quickly.”

He visibly wilted, what little strength he had abandoning him, and he let himself fall deeper into the snow. “How… are we supposed to do that?”

Becca cast her eyes over their surrounds and, perhaps unsurprisingly, found nothing of help. She sucked in a breath between her teeth, focusing on the sensation to keep herself calm. “Um… I haven’t thought that far.”

“Hey!”

Both teenagers jolted. Ed groaned in pain, and the voice, which Becca could now tell was somewhere around the corner, called out again.

“Fullmetal? Illusion?”

Becca mouthed Chimeras . Her and Ed’s eyes met and, through the haziness in Ed’s, she spotted a hint of the usual sharpness. Good. He was still lucid enough.  He blinked slowly before making a small noise of affirmation and Becca frowned, then self-corrected: he was lucid enough for now.

“We need… help,” he wheezed out. “But they were… terrifying… before. Be… careful.”

And as much as Becca didn’t want to admit, especially when their only “help” was four people who had all tried to kill them, he was right. Ed was already basically incapacitated and getting worse by the minute, and the number of possibilities she could come up with to get them out of here alone was dwindling down to zero.

“I’ll get them,” she instructed, pushing herself to her feet. She smoothed his hair back before she went, fighting the urge to press a kiss to his forehead, but pushed back memories of birthdays and flowers and lips on cheeks as she ducked out of his line of sight, following the sound of struggling. “Just stay calm.” Stay alive.

As it turned out, Kimblee’s men wound up only a handful of meters away. Becca stumbled around a snow bank taller than her and nearly tripped over one of them, stuck under the snow on his stomach. The other soldier had gotten trapped under a sheet of thick ice a few feet away. Both of them had yet to revert back to their human forms, so they still resembled a lion and a gorilla, and, she noted resignedly, they were still massive. With their sharpened teeth and huge, animalistic bodies, combined with their brief but illustrious history of terrorizing them, Becca wasn’t sure she’d have the courage to approach them if the situation wasn’t as urgent as it was.

“Come on,” she said, offering the one in the snow bank, the lion-man, her hand. When he just stared at it confusedly, she shook it a bit. “I will help you out, but you have to help us too.”

“You’re going help us?” he asked suspiciously. “Even though we were just trying to kill Fullmetal?”

At the mention of Ed, she winced, but said nothing, just leaning a little closer until he finally took her hand in both of his own.

“Yeah, where is your buddy?” tbe gorilla-man asked.

Becca hesitated. “It’s- he’s-” Finally, she settled on honesty. Brutal honesty. “It’s not good. He’s really hurt. Like, seriously in danger of bleeding out, hurt. Frankly, none of us are going to get out of here unless we can work together. So if I get you out of here, you have to help us get out of this mine. Do we have a deal?”

The two men exchanged glances. Becca caught the gorilla man shrugging. “Not like we have a better option.Seems like Kimblee abandoned us.”

The lion chimera nodded solemnly. “Right. Sounds fair, Illusion. We’ll help you. What do you need us to do?”

“Um…” Hopefully Ed had come up with the next steps to this plan while she was gone. Initially, she’d wanted to transmute the snow and ice, but her adrenaline had run out. She knew she couldn’t do a transmutation alone right now. So she started to pull, using every bit of strength in her body until he finally inched forward, then kept tugging, grunting, “I’m not sure yet.”

He got the idea and started to wriggle around, loosening the snow around him until he could slide out. Panting, Becca pointed at the ice on top of his partner. “I’ll need help with that. Lifting with my legs can only do so much.”

“Oh! Yeah, of course. I’ve got it.”

Sure enough, a few moments later, both chimeras were freed. Becca was still bent over at the waist, trying to catch her breath. The gorilla chimera patted her back unsurely. “You alright, Illusion?”

Her instinct was to respond with a firm “no”, but morale was already low enough. Instead, she said, “If we’re teaming up, you can just call me Becca.” She forced herself to stand up and hoped they wouldn’t bring up how winded she sounded. “Ed is this way.”

“If we’re calling you Becca, we should introduce ourselves. ‘S only fair. I’m Darius,” the gorilla chimera said, thumbing to himself, then his partner, “and that’s Heinkel.”

“Nice to formally meet you,” she said dully.

They picked their way around the debris, Becca leading the way back to where she’d left Ed laying on his stomach. His eyes were closed and he hadn’t moved, obviously, but when they rounded the corner, even the rise and fall of his chest was impossible to make out. The chimeras froze in their tracks and Becca had to clamp down on the immediate wave of panic-- oh God, she shouldn't have left him, what if he'd died and she hadn't been there for him-- and lay a gentle hand on his shoulder to rouse him, wincing when he startled, then subsequently groaned in pain.

“Sorry,” she whispered. “I brought more help.”

“A plan- I have a plan,” he mumbled, voice gravelly. “I gotta- gotta get this damn thing out of- out of my stomach.”

“What?!” Becca yelped, loud enough to startle the chimeras who had been busy pretending not to eavesdrop. Ed flinched at the noise. She quieted down– barely– and said, “That seems like kind of a bad idea. You’re not supposed to remove it when you get stabbed. You’ll bleed out even faster.”

“I know! ‘M not stupid!” he said, sharper than anything he’d said since the fall. He immediately faltered, driving his fist into the ground as he took a deep breath. “Once it’s out, I’ll be able to close the wound with alchemy. Hopefully I’ll be able to do that before dying.”

“And how are you supposed to do that? I couldn’t do a transmutation by myself right now and I’m in much better shape.” Becca smoothed his hair, rubbing the top of his back as calmingly as she could manage with her hands shaking so much. “No offense.”

“Not to mention how fucked up your insides must be,” Heinkel said frankly.

Ed shook his head. “I know enough anatomy to fix it. At least enough to give us time to get to a real doctor. Human transmutation. On myself.”

Human transmutation? But that would only be possible if he had-  

“A Stone. You’d need a Philosopher’s Stone for something like that to succeed!” And he couldn’t have one, not unless he’d somehow managed to get ahold of the one Kimblee had lost. “Is the blood loss getting to your head?”

“I don’t need a Stone… just need energy from a soul,” Ed corrected her. He pushed himself up and, when all three of them yelled in shock, rolled his eyes and gestured for help. Heinkel and Darius obliged, manuvering him to sit up. “In this- ugh- in this case, my soul. My… life force.”

“Edward!” Becca protested.

“It might take a few years off my life-”

“You can’t-”

“But it’ll get me through today-” he said, fixing his eyes on a spot right over her shoulder and speaking firmly over her. “And this whole… thing happened… because I was soft-”

“That’s not true! And if you go through with this, you could-” Becca argued. She wanted to shake his stupid, noble body that didn’t have a selfish bone in it, but settled for grabbing his chin and forcing him to look her in the eyes. They could barely open, let alone focus, though when they did, there was nothing but the stone-cold willpower she’d grown used to over the years, and that was it. There wouldn’t be an argument she could make to change his mind.

“I don’t have time to die,” he said firmly. “I can’t. I won’t.

Becca sighed, her own resolve crumbling. “But you can’t do it alone.”

That made him pause while he processed that implication.“I- no! Becca, I- I can’t ask you-”

“You’re not asking me. I’m telling you that I’m going to help.”

“I- but-”

“Ed, remember how you can be a little overprotective?” she said, determination blossoming in her chest. Ed’s mouth opened to argue with her, then closed. He swallowed, making a face at the taste of his own bloody saliva, which only spurred Becca on. “This is it. You have to let me make my own choice.” She traced a hand over his face, cleaning some of the blood that had leaked from his mouth with her sleeve. “And my choice is saving you. I would choose that every time.”

He blinked a few times, eyes growing wet before he struggled up to sit up straight. “Alright.”

Becca froze. He’d agreed. He’d actually agreed uncharacteristically easily. “Really?”

“I trust… I trust you, Bex. Always have,” he said haltingly. “‘S time… I showed it.”

For all of the racing and running it had done, Becca’s mind took a few seconds to fully comprehend that. When it did, however, she flung herself forward, only barely catching herself before she threw her full weight onto him. Still, she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, being mindful of the rebar still stuck inside him, and squeezed as tightly as she dared, ignoring the tears of her own that were forming in her eyes once again. For one fleeting moment, she wondered if now was the right time to tell him everything. Everything , everything. About her feelings, about all the questioning and butterflies and realizations she’d had since the hospital in Central, and possibly for months before that.

Then she squeezed a little too hard and Ed made a grunt of pain in her ear and she faltered, drawing back. She cleared her throat, swiping at her eyes. Now wasn’t the time. She’d have another chance.

As they set up for the transmutation and Ed talked her through the idea he’d come up with (“You have to be an extension of me again. Remember how it felt when we escaped Envy. How it felt to harness life itself.”), she kept telling herself that she’d have to have another chance.

Darius and Heinkel looked on from a few feet away, giving them a moment to prepare, but when it was go time, they had to move closer. Becca was tucked into Ed’s side, their hands touching. Heinkel grabbed his red-clad shoulders and pressed them down into the ground, keeping him effectively still, while Darius grabbed the end of the rebar.

“Ready?” Ed asked, like any of them could be ready for something like this. When he didn’t receive any objections, he started to count down. “3…” Becca tapped her hands together, starting the cycle of energy within her and letting it ghost onto Ed. “2…” Darius adjusted his grip on the rebar. “1…” She felt him tense up under her in anticipation, and then, “Do it!”

It was probably lucky that Becca couldn’t hear him scream over the sound of the transmutation. His face contorted above her as Darius pulled, and she forced herself to look away and focus on the task at hand. Energy ripped through her body, fueling the healing process at the cost of draining her so thoroughly she could feel it happening. Hell, she might have screamed herself.

But less than 30 excruciating seconds later, it was over. Ed went limp and Becca flopped down next to him. She hardly had enough energy to reach over and check his pulse.

Erratic.

Not quite stable.

But alive.

Ed himself had passed out cold, but his breathing was steady enough and, once she dragged herself up to examine it, the wound was, on the outside, healed enough. Becca fought back the urge to either laugh or cry at the genius boy in front of her.

Then he shifted slightly, face screwing up in agony, and she was suddenly reminded that they weren’t out of the woods yet.

“We need real help,” she said weakly. “A doctor.”

The chimeras looked between each other. Darius admitted, “We know one.”

“Discreet?”

He nodded. “He’s in North City. Mr. Kimblee doesn’t know about it, but they saved me when I was training up here and never told anyone, even when my COs came knocking.”

“Don’t call him ‘mister’ after he abandoned us,” Heinkel scolded. 

“Better than ‘major’ or something like that!”

The two began to bicker over it while Becca considered the options. She knew Ed and Ed would want them to chase Kimblee. But she also knew that doing such a thing in this state would be practically suicidal. She knew he wouldn’t go to North City. Not to mention the fact that they’d promised to regroup with Al, preferably alive and well.

No, she’d make the executive decision today. Ed could be mad about it when he woke up. “Medical attention first,” she said, interrupting the chimeras’ argument. “We’ll track down Kimblee later. Can one of you carry him? His automail adds some extra weight-”

“No problem,” Heinkel said, hoisting Ed onto his back.

“Careful! That alchemy was really only first aid! He’s still not well!” She stood up, tugging at his wild mane of hair. “And be aware of that, try not to suffocate him!”

Heinkel was at least gracious, taking her freak out with a straight face and adjusting him to a better position. However, he frowned when she stepped back, creating a clear division between the two chimeras and Ed, and her. “Aren’t you coming?”

Becca wanted to. She wanted, more than almost anything, to get out of this place. Ideally, she wanted Darius to carry her out. She’d started tired, but after that transmutation, she was exhausted.

But one look over her shoulder in the direction she’d originally fallen with her brother, who had laid the ammonia trap with them, who had tried to cushion her fall, who had seemed like he was almost teetering onto their side, and she knew she couldn’t escape yet.

“Give me the address and I’ll catch up,” she said, pulling a crumpled notepad and banged up pen that had survived the crash landing out of one of her pockets. “There’s one more person I need to get.”

Chapter 50: màgoa

Notes:

hello, my dears!!!

what's this? a chapter on time? dare i say: early??? witchcraft!

i'm genuinely so excited for this chapter. like i mentioned last time, i've had a big chunk of this typed up for months. becca and will's relationship is so fun for me to write and so critical to the heart and soul of this story, and i'm so psyched for it to finally progress. not tons of ed/becca here because ed do be teetering of the brink of death, but he's fine, everythings fineeee guys :)

there will probs be one more chapter at most (maybe only half, i haven't decided yet) where ed is MIA, but once he wakes up, i think you guys will be very pleased with the next arc.

màgoa (noun)- a feeling that leaves long-lasting traces, visible in gestures and facial expressions

Chapter Text

Will winced the moment he woke up. Which made sense, she supposed, especially since she’d been shaking him rather frantically for a good two minutes before he’d even roused. The sun had begun to set, and Becca knew they only had so much time. She swallowed nervously, finally observing the severity of his clearly broken leg. It looked worse than when she’d left, more swollen and bent nearly at a right angle. Even while fully processing how badly he was hurt, Becca still cycled through Plans A, B, C, and so on for getting them out of here, catching up with the others, and finding actual help. Reality didn’t hit her until he struggled to sit up, hissing through his teeth.

“Reality” being the fact that, with her dislocated shoulder and his shattered leg, they were two limbs short, already exhausted, and, as she began to shiver in earnest without her two sweaters, beginning to freeze.

“Becca?”

She could see Will right in front of her and yet he sounded so far away. God, her lungs ached, and yet she could swear she wasn’t breathing. A shiver ran through her, the first of many, and she wrapped her arms around herself, like that would protect her. Had her heart always been beating so fast and so loudly that she could hear it in her ears?

“We can’t get out of here,” she whispered, clutching at her necklace like it was choking her. “Not like this. Oh- oh, my God, we’re stuck down here.”

“Becca. Becca, calm down,” Will said as he hopped over to her. “Becca, listen-”

How did he expect her to do that when they were- “T-trapped,” she gasped out. “We-we’re trapped.”

Will gripped her forearmss tightly. “Becca. You need to breathe.”

She shook her head. “Can’t- I can’t!”

“You can. Just try. Follow me. In-” He took an exaggeratedly deep breath, then shook her slightly until she at least attempted to do the same. “Alright, now out.”

It took a few more repeats before she could catch up to his rhythm, then a few more until she could do it alone, then another few to finally even out. When she finally became aware again, heart still pounding an, as she realized rather abruptly, shivering much harder as she tumbled back into her own body, she lurched backwards out of his reach, giving herself a wide berth. Her chest heaved and she had to sit down, pressing a hand over her heart. “St-stay away from me,” she said. “What- what the h-hell are you do-doing?”

Will froze, then looked away. She thought she saw a glimpse of pain flash across his face, but she couldn’t tell for sure in the rapidly darkening cavern. “I told you up there, I want to know what you were talking about,” he explained. “What is the military up to? What do I not know about?” He hesitated, then asked, “And what are you planning on doing about it? How can I help?”

Even though she was freezing, Becca made an effort to scoff like she normally would to get people off of her back. “L-like I’d t-tell you-ou. You m-m-might just-st r-run b-back to K-Kimblee and g-get m-me and th-the El-Elrics… t-taken care o-of.”

For a moment, she pondered the oddity of this conversation even happening. Barely a year ago, it was him claiming he couldn’t trust her, when she would have done anything to save him.

He stared again and, for a second, she thought he was going to yell at her, but he only sighed, then hobbled over to sit a few feet away from her. She tensed, pulling her knees to her chest, and her shivering increased slightly as she pressed further against the cold wall.

“You never read the letter,” he said. “It was still sealed with our- mine and Victor’s- seal.”

She peered at him out of the corner of her eye, aware of how untrusting she looked, but she didn’t care. “Of c-course I didn’t. I-it wasn’t f-for me.”

He turned to her and she looked away. “You still could have been curious,” he pointed out.

“I-I was,” she said, then, a little sarcastically, “E-even m-more now s-since it s-seems to have made y-you switch s-sides. I c-couldn’t do th-that. Apparently, I j-just needed to c-call V-Victor.”

So maybe she was a little bitter.

“I was so, so angry with Dad… and Mom… and you. I made assumptions. I wish I’d had the presence of mind to write to him after my ones to you all didn’t get replies, because then- well, maybe none of this would have happened. But I thought he was disappointed in me too.”

“N-none of us were e-ever d-disappointed in y-you,” she said defensively, then amended, “‘Cept D-Dad. W-we w-wanted you to c-come h-home.”

“I know that now,” he said. “And- and it wasn’t just the letter, I swear it wasn’t. I wanted to talk to you since I got certified- to at least talk about this debt thing and tell you-” She opened her mouth and he quickly assured, “I don’t blame you for avoiding me, I don’t. I know I deserved it after everything I’ve done.”

They lapsed into silence. Becca blinked slowly, trying to stay awake, as the time passed and her teeth only chattered harder.

“I’m sorry,” Will said suddenly.

Becca’s head whipped around. “What?”

“I thought about it a lot after I was captured, and even more after what you said the other day. All this time, I’ve been taking my frustration out on you instead of listening to what you had to say.” Resting his chin on his knees, he sighed again, his breath misting in the air. “And I’m sorry I did that. Things could have been so different if I’d taken a moment to think about them.”

Becca turned slowly, swallowed thickly, and let out a shaky, “Oh…”

He hurriedly rushed to assure her, “I know that doesn’t fix things, and I know it’s going to take more than just that for you to trust me again, but I figured that was the first step-”

“N-no, no,” she cut him off, pushing back a few tears. A few of the stones that she’d put up around his spot in her heart began to crumble as she hiccuped. “It i-is the f-first step. Y-you’re right. Ab-about everyth-th-thing. A-and I s-said I-I wasn’t-t g-gonna g-give up on y-you.” She smiled sadly. “Y-you’r-re my b-brother. I st-still love y-you.”

  “Are you okay?” Will asked.

She nodded, then curled in on herself even tighter. “C-cold. T-tired.”

He moved a bit closer, his hand brushing over her cheek. Although the touch was gone in seconds, she could practically still feel the burst of body heat radiating off of him and she had to resist leaning forward to chase the warmth as his fingers traced down her ribcage, tapping gently to feel out what was below her coat. “You’re freezing. And you’re not wearing the layers we all got at the fort.” His face swam into her vision, concern evident in his eyes. “Becca, what did you do before you came back and found me?”

She shuddered, squeezing her eyes shut against the assault of memories- Ed, laying still on a bed of crimson snow, tugging off her sweatersto pack the wound at his middle, frantically trying to stop the bleeding before the horrible noises of pain as the chimeras had pulled the metal beam out- “Ed was h-hurt,” she explained. “I- I h-had to h-help.”

“Dammit,” he said under his breath, tugging off his heavy coat.

“I’m f-fine,” Becca protested as he tried to drape it over her. “St-stop.”

“Becca, you’re going to freeze to death,” he said firmly. “All the Central troops were given tons of extra shit. Please, let me help you. I’ll be okay.”

She set her jaw and considered arguing more, but when he successfully got the coat wrapped around her (since she couldn’t exactly fight back), she reluctantly settled down. The wall in her heart hadn’t yet fallen, but it trembled and shook as he started to pace, limping back and forth with a noticeable drag in his injured leg and muttering to himself. She watched listlessly, her eyes following him as she fought to stay awake.

“Hypothermia, hypothermia…” He repeatedly snapped his fingers to stimulate his memory and mumbled, “We need to get you warmed up… I can’t get the blood pumping by rubbing your arms because that might shock your heart, but we don’t have any supplies.” Desperation in his eyes, he rifled through his pockets, then asked, “You don’t have any supplies, right?”

She shook her head. “L-left-” She yawned, then recommenced shivering, “L-left them at th-the f-fort.”

“No, no, no, no,” he murmured frantically. “Please, I just got you back, I can’t lose you, not like this-”

“C-calm d-down, ‘s not-t like I-I’ve nev-ver been si-sick before,” Becca muttered.

Will swore again. “This isn’t like the flu or something like that!” he snapped, running a hand through his hair. “The floor’s sapping any body heat you have left. Just sitting around here is practically killing you!” Blinking slowly as she tried to fight through what felt like cotton stuffing her head to come up with a solution, Becca yawned again. He knelt down near her again and snapped his fingers near her nose. She jolted backward. “Sorry,” Will said gingerly. You just- you can’t go to sleep, okay?”

She shuddered. “We h-have to g-get out o-of h-here.”

“We’ll never make it out at night,” Will said. “We’ll just get even more lost. I think we’re stuck here until morning.” She whined weakly and Will blew a frustrated puff of air out of his nose. “You’re gonna hate this, but I- I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think it was the only option.”

“W-what is i-it?”

Will’s arms settled around her, not squeezing, hell, barely even ghosting over the fabric of her coat. Just providing another source of heat. Although it didn’t stop her from quivering entirely, it did help ever so slightly.

“Is this okay?” he checked.

“Y-yeah,” Becca said.

They sat soundlessly for a few minutes before Becca’s head was nodding forward and she was barely resisting sleep again. Will noticed almost at once and even her clouded mind could recognize the nervousness in his voice as he launched into a drawn out story of when he’d lived with the Ishvalans outside of East City. While Becca wouldn't be able to recall the details later, his tales from the years they’d been separated did work to keep her on the edge of consciousness all through the night.

---

Will was finishing a long winded story of some sort of sports match he’d played with a group of Ishvalan children when light started sneaking through the cracks of their hastily made shelter. Becca hadn’t stopped shivering all night, but Will had said that was good. It meant her body was still holding onto the last remnants of body heat it could muster. Speaking of Will, as the light illuminated both of them, she felt him pull away and look down at her. He stopped his story at once.

“Becca,” he said breathlessly. “Your lips are blue. Please tell me you have gloves on.”

She showed off her tan gloves, wiggling her fingers. “C-can we g-go yet?”

He nodded, pulling away slowly. “Yeah. It’s time to go.” He gently gripped her arm and helped her to stand, then wrapped it around his shoulders. As soon as they tried to take one step, however, Will gave a small gasp of pain and they almost fell face first into the snow as his leg gave out. He groaned, sounding disgusted, and snapped, “Stupid!”

Becca, on the other hand, still wrapped in his coat, struggled to her feet. Gloved hand pressing against the cold cliff face, she had set her sights on a fallen wooden beam. Staggering towards it, she only made it a few steps before she hit her knees but it was enough. Clutching the beam like a lifeline, grounding herself with the wooden splinters, Becca felt more clear headed than she had since she’d sent the chimeras off with Ed.

Will, sitting back on the heels of his hands, only guessed what she was doing when she pressed her hands together and took a short breath. “Becca, stop-!”

Too  late. With the transmutation underway, all she could do was guide the energy. When she pulled her hands away, from the wood, revealing a sloppily made crutch. “Here,” Becca said dully. She didn’t think it was possible, but she actually felt even more tired than she had before. She tried to get up again, now that she wasn’t as shaky, but her exhaustion seemed to seep all the way into her very bones and she could barely force herself up to all fours.

Will hauled her up, clearly in a hurry but trying to be careful with her. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he scolded, though she noticed him leaning heavily on the crutch.

“I’m doing what… I have to do… to get us out of here,” Becca said breathlessly, trying to take in a substantial amount of air. Her lungs weren’t working. Why weren’t her lungs working?

He rolled his eyes, looped her arm around his shoulder again, and said, “Killing yourself is what you’re doing.” He guided (well, mostly dragged) her to the edge of the snowy shelter, then kicked at the wall a few times until it cracked, leaving a small hole they could squeeze through. He paused and came to a realization. “You stopped shivering.”

Becca looked down at herself, then gulped nervously. “Yeah, I- I guess.”

Will went pale. “You’re getting worse. We’ve got to hurry.”

“I know where a doctor is,” Becca mumbled, her eyelids fluttering. “Those two chimeras… took Ed there. Address… ‘s in my pocket.”

“Got it.” He fished the paper out for her and his eyes scanned over the scribbled lines, then nodded to himself and tucked it away into his undercoat. “Alright. Hold on. We’ll get there ASAP.”

As they wobbled out into the light, their feet sinking into the snow after every step they took, Becca realized they were right on the edge of another drop. Will whistled, then shielded his eyes to peer upwards. “We’ve got a bit of a walk but it definitely could have been worse. Hopefully, we’ll be out of here by midday and we can track down this doctor.”

“Sounds good,” Becca agreed, bringing her hands up to try and blow some warm breath into them. “...Let’s go.”

---

As it turned out, escaping a collapsing mine shaft while injured and hypothermic tended to take more than a few hours. It was almost two by the time Will boosted her up from behind to let her claw herself up with a weak grip on a thin, metal rod, then turned around as he jumped for the same rod and grabbed his arm to help tug him up next to her, and, given how early the sun set in the north, they only had an hour or two before dark.

“F-finally,” she huffed. After all the physical exertion of climbing up and over all the destroyed levels of the mine, she’d started shivering again. While that might have been good for her health, it sure as hell didn’t feel any more pleasurable. She had to resist falling backwards to rest on the snow, but she knew that wouldn’t help anyone. They had to keep moving.

“I wouldn’t say we’ve had very much luck today,” Will panted, glancing around. A small smile graced his face and Becca had to stop herself from smiling in response as his eyes lit up. “But maybe we have a little bit left. Look over there.”

She swivelled to look where he was pointing. “N-no w-way.”

Glittering in the fallen snow was a navy blue, military grade car. Will laughed joyfully, grabbing his crutch to hoist himself up while Becca concentrated all her energy into getting up on her own. The hope flooding her body gave her that final push and she stumbled forward, giggling too. They made it to the car, and, even though it was freezing as well, Becca practically collapsed onto the hood in relief.

“It’s a Northern Command vehicle,” Will said reverently. “They must have left it behind so they wouldn’t have to split up going back to the fort!”

“H-how are we g-going t-to drive i-it?” Becca gave him an appraising look. “Unless y-you p-picked up hotwi-wi-wiring c-cars, w-we don’t-t have a k-key. And d-do y-you e-even know-ow ho-how to d-drive?”

“Do you?”

“Y-yeah, act-actually.”

“Hm. Well, either way, I picked up the skill and…” he said teasingly, pulling out a plain looking key from his pocket, “I picked up the key. Kimblee made them give him a master to all Northern vehicles, but he thought he was too important to carry it.”

She giggled incredulously again. “W-we’r-re a-actually g-g-going t-to make i-it!”

He gave her a worried look. “We still don’t have any time to waste. Come on, I’ll drive.”

Once she was seated in the passenger seat, Will turned the key and the car rumbled to life. He whooped triumphantly, flooring it at once. “That address is in North City,” he said over the loud engine. “I can get there, no problem, but see if there’s a more detailed map.”

The car warmed up a bit with their body heat, but Becca still felt like she was slowly turning into a popsicle since they weren’t moving anymore. She nodded and took the chance to flex her fingers and rifle through the glove compartment. “G-got one!”

“Check for 2nd Street in North City,” he instructed, only just letting up on his high speed to carefully maneuver around some debris.”

“F-found it-t.”

“Is it accessible if I take Taschner from here to North City?”

Shaking, Becca traced her finger from the area marked Baschool to North City. She cracked a smile. “Y-yes. L-looks like t-two h-hours or s-s-so.”

“We’ll halve that,” Will said, convicted.

---

Once they’d hit the open road between the mining town and the city, they were off like a bullet out of a gun. On one hand,  that got them to the edge of North City within the hour, and the constant bouncing around kept Becca awake. On the other hand, the wind had thoroughly chilled her to her core. There were a few blankets stashed in the backseat of the car that she’d wrapped herself in, but the sun had started setting and she’d gone from violent shivering back to the heavy, motionless cold from that morning. Will kept shooting her worried looks and she could see why. Every glimpse she caught of herself in the side mirror looked progressively worse. Earlier, she had been bright red from cold, but she was going paler by the moment, and she could even see the blue tinge to her lips that Will had noted earlier. She’d taken to blowing more hot breaths into her hands while cupping her nose to stave off frostbite.

Every so often, Will had taken to muttering under his breath, “This can’t happen now, please, hold on…”

“I’m fine,” Becca insisted as they drove over the North City border.

Her brother- her brother!- started when she actually responded. “We’re almost there,” he reassured her as they slowed down significantly. “What was the number? 15 2nd Street, yeah?”

She nodded slowly as he muttered the address over and over to himself again, cruising down the street, until he braked suddenly outside an unassuming complex of businesses. He squinted out the front window, then grinned. “I see the sign,” he whispered, then louder, like he didn’t believe it, “I see it!”

Becca clutched the blankets tighter around her. “We… did it,” she mumbled.

“Come on!” Using his uninjured leg, Will kicked his door open and tripped out, crutch under his arm, then hurried to Becca’s side of the car. After she bundled up for what would hopefully be the last time, he helped her out into the darkening afternoon. She tried to support herself, but he practically carried her through the door leading to the actual businesses and pounded on the one next to a small sign with a man on a crutch.

No response.

Unbidden tears formed in Becca’s eyes. They couldn’t have the wrong address, they just couldn’t. She’d tried to stay positive all day, but she knew this was their only hope. If they ended up in the snow for another night, that would be the end of her. She turned, hiding her face in Will’s shoulder.

“You’ve got to be kidding. Can’t believe I’m doing this,” Will grumbled, then shouted, “Darius! Heinkel! This is the Majors Harper! Open this door!”

She heard a creak. Hardly daring to hope, she looked up… and up, and up at a familiar gargantuan figure. A sob broke free of her chest as she recognized the gorilla chimera from earlier. They’d done it. They were safe.

“Well, well, well, guess you dropped Kimblee too, Mr. Big Shot,” he said sarcastically. “Your sister convince you-”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve seen the light and whatever, now where’s this doctor she’s been going on about?” Will demanded.

There was a moment where he seemed to actually take them in, and then, “Doc! You’ve got a couple more patients!”

An old man appeared behind the chimera. “More of your lot?” he chastised, not looking at them. “That’s going to cost you- good God, child!” He’d seen both of them. Becca could only imagine how roughed up they looked. The doctor pushed the chimera out of the way, ushering them in. He took her off of Will and jumped at her temperature. He called further into the clinic, “Emily! Get hot water going and come help me!”

“Where’s E-Ed?” Becca asked desperately as she was hurried down a hallway. 

“He’ll be fine, kid,” the large chimera said from where he’d leaned against the wall. “He’s… asleep.”

She fought the doctor’s hold, anxious for answers. “He’s still unconscious?”

The man looked uncomfortable, rubbing the back of his neck, but any actual answer from him got cut off by the doctor insisting, “Young lady, if you value your fingers and toes, we need to act now!”

“I’m sure Fullmetal will see you when you’re feeling better,” Will said, sinking down onto a stool. For the first time, she noticed how pale he was- presumably from stress and what she was sure was immense pain from whatever had happened to his leg. He smiled ruefully. “As soon as he beats the shit out of me.”

One firm tug from the doctor and a door was slammed shut behind Becca. “Your boy is using our only treatment room,” the doctor explained as she took in the crowded apparent storage room. “And this is the only other room with a furnace.” She gave him a suspicious look, which he waved away and justified, “We burn old patient records,” then raised a stern eyebrow in her direction. “Or records we don’t want some people to find. Now sit.”

She obeyed, drawn in by the warmth of the furnace as the doctor moved about the room, shifting boxes as he continued to talk. “My name is Dr. Martin Spanner. I’ll have to do a more thorough examination, but for now, I’m estimating that you’re suffering from second stage hypothermia, possibly bordering on third stage. You need to get out of those wet clothes and blankets.” He turned away, giving her a modicum of privacy as he coaxed a few dying embers back to life with a few well-placed pieces of paper and timber. He looked over his shoulder at her and pointedly ordered, “Now!”

Becca jumped, then gingerly started tugging off her layers. On instinct, she started off trying to hang them as she removed them, but once she got a taste of the warm fire actually on her skin, it became much more important to get as much of that as possible, as quickly as possible. When she was down to her underthings, the doctor tossed a woolen blanket over his shoulder, which she wrapped herself in, then cleared her throat so he’d turn around.

“My wife is drawing up a bath. You are to get in and stay in until I say otherwise, understand?”

“Y-yes, sir. And-d m-my broth-ther, m-my p-partner, a-and I-I w-will be s-sure t-to rep-pay you-”

“So I’ve been assured,” the doctor said pointedly. “But that is a worry for later. Right now, I’m a bit busy making sure you’ll be alive to pay me, hm?”

The door banged open and a small woman pushed a large metal tub in. She chattered to her husband as she wheeled it in front of the fireplace, but Becca was too busy leaning unconsciously towards the warm water to hear exactly what she said. Whatever it was, Dr. Spanner raised his arms in surrender before taking his leave.

“W-wait!” Becca protested. “I n-need to-to see Ed, a-and my brother-er ne-needs-”

“It’s alright, dear, I sent him out to check on your brother,” the woman said, bustling around to behind her and giving her a gentle but expectant shove towards the tub. She just barely had time to drop the blanket before stumbling headfirst into the water. It probably said a lot about her condition that, upon surfacing with a gasp for air, she realized the water was lukewarm at best and just seemed hot to her in comparison to her ice cold skin. Mrs. Spanner picked up a metal bucket, filled it with water from the tub, and hung it over the fire. “Now I’m just going to heat this up and I’ll add it back in when it’s warm so we can gradually-”

“Wh-what about E-Ed?” she interrupted, rubbing her upper arms and beginning to shiver again as her blood finally started moving again.

Mrs. Spanner paused in her ministrations, then cleared her throat. “Ah. Well, your boy’s-”

“He’s-s not-t m-m-”

“His condition,” she said over her, going back to hanging up Becca’s clothes on their own rack so they could dry out, “is- it’s stable. He’s… unconscious right now. I won’t lie to you, dear, he doesn’t look good. That doesn’t mean he won’t get better, but he’s in it for the long haul.”

“He’s-”

“Alive, and that’s all you need to worry about. Focus on your own recovery.” The first bucket heated enough, Mrs. Spanner poured it in, marginally increasing the temperature in Becca’s bath, and refilled it to repeat the process again. Once it was returned to its spot over the fire, she moved behind Becca, coaxing her sweat-matted hair out of its bun. “He’ll have to make it on his own.”

As her dark hair fell around her face, Becca stared at the rapidly dirtying bathwater while the grime finally began to soak off of her, turning Mrs. Spanner’s words over in her mind. She hadn’t done all that much for Ed, and yet, it was apparently all she could do. There had to have been more, she should have been able to come up with something, anything, that would have left him in a better state than he was-

The doctor’s wife’s hands vanished from her hair for a moment, then she dumped a scoop of water on the top of Becca’s head, making her jolt.

“You can see him once you’re not on the brink of death,” she said plainly. “And if he’s got as much fighting spirit as you, he’ll be fine.”

As soon as she was cleared to get out of the tub and dress in a set of simple clothes (and, at Mrs. Spanner’s insistence, wrap herself in a spare blanket) warmed by the fire provided by Dr. Spanner, Becca insisted she be taken to Ed, though the visit didn’t exactly make her feel better. Dr. Spanner droned on about his condition next to her, but it all went in one ear and out the other. She was too busy staring at him in the bed, swamped by blankets and pillows. He was pale and limp and lifeless but for the rise and fall of his chest and Becca wanted to cry or throw up or scream all over again.

“-Frankly, it’s a miracle he wasn’t hypothermic as well-”

“Thank you, Doctor,” Becca interrupted, her fingers clenching around the hem of the blanket to ground herself and keep her voice steady. Both the doctor and his wife were keeping a stern eye on her and had already warned her that one chatter of the teeth or one shiver would get her sent straight to a bed of her own. “May I have a moment alone with him?”

Spanner stopped, then patted Becca on the arm. “Of course. Come eat with the rest of us when you’re ready.”

When he’d gone, Becca lowered herself into the chair next to the bed. Really, she wanted to crawl under the covers, but God only knew how fragile he was right now, and any jostling could mess up whatever medical attention he’d recieved. She compromised by grabbing his hand and squeezing like she had so many times before. This time, there was no squeeze back.

She’d pictured this moment in the bath and she thought that might have made her cry again . Becca buried her face in the duvet, her chest aching, but it seemed she was all out of tears. Instead, an all-encompassing exhaustion overtook her, making her sink even further into the blanket. She knew she should  follow the doctor’s direction and go get something to eat, but she was so tired . She just wanted to rest for a few moments with her fingers on Ed’s pulse point, reassuring her that he was still there. She let her eyes flutter shut, intending on only sitting for a few moments-

“Major Harper!”

She jolted up and nearly banged heads with Dr. Spanner. “Sorry!” she squeaked, pressing a hand to her chest to soothe her heart. “What happened?”

“It’s past dinner,” Dr. Spanner said. He presented her with a plate of cold rice and meat, and Becca tried to resist pulling a face. She wasn’t as successful as she’d hoped to be since Spanner raised a judgemental eyebrow at her. “Like it or not-”

“No, it’s just-” Becca rushed to reassure. “It’s not that I don’t like it, I’m- I’m not hungry. I think I’d rather sleep tonight.”

“I know your body needs rest, so I let you sleep through mealtime, but it also needs nourishment to recover from this whole ordeal,” he contested. “And I need to check on Fullmetal’s wound, which might be… distressing. You should at least step out for a few minutes.”

Becca knew he was right, but her stomach rebelled at even the mention of food. Still, Spanner didn’t look like he was going to leave without prompting, so she reluctantly took the plate and stood, her legs protesting. “Are the others around?”

“In the main room,” the doctor provided. “I’ll let you know when I’m finished.”

“Are you gonna eat that?”

“Um…” Becca let out a breath, contemplating the food in front of her, and pushed her plate towards Darius. “No. You can have it.”

She knew Mrs. Spanner was watching her with a critical eye, but she’d been sitting at the table staring at it for almost ten minutes and hadn’t been able to eat a single bite. Better that the food didn’t go to waste anyway. During the attempt, her eyes kept flicking over where Will was fast asleep on the couch, back towards the door to Ed’s room. Dr. Spanner still hadn’t emerged, so she kept trying to keep herself calm by repeating that he hadn’t called for help. Everything was fine, right?

Right?

“He was conscious every so often,” Heinkel said candidly.

Becca blinked at him. “What?”

“When we were travelling,” he restated, giving Darius a disapproving look while he shovelled her food into his mouth, “he kept waking up. He asked for you-”

Her heart sank. Heinkel probably meant for that to be reassuring, but picturing Ed inquiring about her of all things when he was sick, alone with strangers, cold, and delirious only made her feel worse. 

“And,” Heinkel didn’t seem to noticed the downturn in her mood, continuing, “we found this on our way out.” He rifled through his pocket and produced a small, jagged red stone. Becca’s breath caught. A Philosopher’s Stone. Kimblee’s Philosopher’s Stone. Well, one of them at least. She reached out before she could stop herself and Heinkel, thankfully without issue, dropped the Stone into her palm. For a moment, she pondered the tiny, surprisingly heavy alchemical amplifier in her hand. Ed’s injuries could be taken care of with one transmutation if Becca used that…

Her stomach lurched. She could feel the energy of hundreds of souls pulsing in the Stone, and she wouldn’t be able to make herself use them without consulting Ed. “Thanks,” she said, putting it deep into a pocket of her bag. “It’ll be way safer with us.”

“What is that thing anyway?” Darius asked.

The last visible part of the Stone shined in the low light and Becca pushed it under a stray paper. “I’ll explain tomorrow. Right now, I’d really like to get some rest, if it’s all the same to you.”

Dr. Spanner reemerged from the bedroom, wiping his hands on his coat. Becca was up on her feet in an instant. He cast a cursory glance at the table and made a disapproving face when his gaze landed on the food she’d passed over to Darius, but, after a short internal battle, he relented and permissed, “Alright. You can go back in now.”

“Thank you, Doctor!” Becca said over her shoulder, already halfway to the door. Reclaiming her spot by the bed, she grabbed Ed’s hand again and rubbed small circles into his palm, more to soothe herself than anything else. She watched him for a few moments, just watching his chest rise and fall. Finally, grasping his hand a little more firmly, she allowed every muscle in her body to relax at last as she slumped forward onto the bed and closed her eyes before drifting off into a dreamless sleep.

Chapter 51: ilunga

Notes:

greetings my dears!!!

i am slightly late but this chap gave me a hell of a lot of trouble for some reason, so i'm glad to just get smthg out. i went down a rabbit hole and ended up spending like two full days doing no work on this except for scrolling pinterest to find chapter titles.

yeah its been a long summer.

TW for this chapter is some more ED-related stuff with becca-- if you're sensitive to that, please skip this chap and i'll provide a brief summary in the comment section.

ilunga (noun)- a person ready to forgive any abuse for the first time, to tolerate it a second time, but never a third time

Chapter Text

The days blurred together during the week it took for Ed to wake up. Becca would take a shower and get her own check-up from Mrs. Spanner while Dr. Spanner changed Ed’s bandages, but otherwise, she held a non-stop vigil at his bedside with their other companions cycling through on occasion. A few times Heinkel and Darius, sometimes together and sometimes alone, came and sat quietly nearby, often reading or playing cards (Becca declined the invitation to join in) as they watched Ed sleep. Mrs. Spanner would pop in with fresh pitchers of water for the bedside table. Once Ed was stable, Dr. Spanner only did rudimentary check-ins every few hours since he still had to keep operating his clinic as normal to avoid suspicion. Will, however, was the most frequent visitor by far.

On her first full day at the Spanners, she missed breakfast.

Well, admittedly, she didn’t miss it, she just skipped it.

She woke up early after a fitful sleep to Dr. Spanner coming to check in on Ed and barely reacted- hell, barely even listened- when he updated her on Ed’s condition. 

“Same as last night… stable, but weak… up to him… take care of yourself.”

Then, rather than follow him out for breakfast with the others, she waved the offer off and tucked her head back down on the bedspread.

Since that first skipped meal, Will would limp in a few minutes later on his crutches and broken leg each time anyone cooked, struggling with two plates. Becca always got up to help him, settling them both down by the bed. Breakfast was a serving of plain scrambled eggs. 

“I know it’s not exactly five-star quality,” he rambled as he set them down on the thick duvet, then, when he didn’t get a response, feebly offered to try and find some salt or pepper or onions or cheese or- “whatever you want, really, I can try and do my best…”

Becca said nothing. Out of respect for Mrs. Spanner and the effort that went into feeding four extra mouths, she managed a few bites she couldn’t taste, swallowing around a thick lump that had taken residence in her throat, before putting her fork back down.

There was a beat of silence, and then Will kept going, “Darius and Heinkel are recovering well– they weren’t in terrible shape in the first place, though– and they’re thinking about trying to get in touch with some of their buddies. If they weren’t all on Kimblee’s side to begin with, a couple of them might be willing to act as double agents-”

She shook her head. She didn’t say it, but she knew all of the men Kimblee had brought with him were either traveling with May’s group, stuck here with them, or, in General Raven’s case, “missing” and more than likely dead.

Will, however, didn’t seem to notice the minuscule movement, or if he did, he kindly didn’t point it out. “Do you think the fact that they were in their more animalistic forms when we fell helped them not get as hurt? I assume Fullmetal-” Becca flinched at the title and his breath caught before he stiltedly went on, “-was putting up a good fight before the fall, so they might be more resilient than us on some basic level.”

He stayed for a few more minutes, talking about every little thing that came to his mind and none of the big things the two of them really should discuss. Becca was silent the whole time. Any words that managed to make it past the numbing fuzziness in her brain just turned to dust in her mouth.

Eventually, Will ran out of steam. He gave her a chance to jump in, to continue the conversation, but she- she couldn’t. She just couldn’t do it. So he coughed and excused himself with, “Well, um- I told Dr. Spanner I’d help him with sorting some old papers today,” and almost patted her on the shoulder. The resulting jolt from that would have been impossible for him to miss, and he winced in sympathy. Something like guilt stirred in her stomach at the instinctual and obvious rejection, yet the thought of letting him in again, of getting to know him again without being under the threat of death, and again being betrayed caused an entirely different type of pain. “Sorry,” he said on his way out the door.

Lunch and dinner passed in much the same manner; an awkward entrance, a tasteless sandwich and a bowl of soup respectively, each of which Becca pushed away after a few bites, and a half hour of mostly empty conversation until Will gave up and made a similarly awkward exit, leaving her alone with her incredibly miserable thoughts once again. At least he refrained from trying to touch her again, avoiding any of the uncomfortable and, at least on Becca’s part, perplexing emotions that came with this strange middle ground they’d never found themselves in before.

During that alone time after dinner time, Becca really did try to get up and do something , anything, helpful. Will had mentioned he’d been put to work sorting through old supply receipts. Surely she could do that and stew at the same time and, as a voice in the back of her mind that sounded suspiciously like her mother and father put it, at least make herself useful while she pouted. Besides, what was the difference between sitting in silence with her brother at the bedside or sitting in silence with her brother at some table with a heap of paper between them?

She got her answer the first time Dr. Spanner made her step out of the room again with orders to take a shower while he changed Ed’s bandages and Becca, uneasy from the first step outside Ed’s room, nearly had a panic attack whilst standing under the water. Her racing heart wasn’t soothed until she saw Ed again, his chest still methodically rising and falling, wounds redressed and room empty. Only then could she wheeze in a full breath.

“Illusion?” Heinkel said cautiously from behind her. She whipped around, pivoting on one heel, to find the man at the other end of the hallway, arms raised. “Whoa there. You alright?”

“I- I-” Becca gasped out, numb fingers clenching around her necklace until the pointed edges dug tiny pricks into her skin.

Heinkel moved quickly, by her side in an instant and guiding her into the room. “You’re alright, kid. Take a breath.” Large hands were firm, yet gentle, as they landed on her shoulders and sat her back down in her chair, then pushed her head between her knees. “Just in case,” Heinkel said. “Now follow my breathing.”

He took one exaggerated breath after another until Becca finally forced herself to sync up. As one, their breaths evened out and, soon after, Becca was able to sit up, rubbing at her eyes. “Thanks,” she croaked.

“It’s nothing,” Heinkel said, face coloring slightly as he turned away. “I was going to come sit with him for a bit, but if you want to be left alone-”

Biting her lip, Becca shook her head.  “Actually, would you- do you think you or- or Darius, maybe, could sit with him whenever I have to go?”

“Sure thing. I was going to check in on the kid anyway, didn’t expect you to be finished in the bathroom so soon.”

“I didn’t plan to go that fast,” Becca mumbled, voice scratchy from disuse then winced. Her usual dry, somewhat dark humor probably wasn’t appropriate at the bedside of her half-dead best friend.

Luckily, Heinkel didn’t seem to mind the crude joke, laughing gruffly. “Fair enough.”

Silence fell again, although it was at least slightly more comfortable than the one she’d been stuck in all day when Will came by.

“I do have to ask, though,” Heinkel said after a moment, “why aren’t you worried about leaving him with us? I mean, we weren’t exactly friends a few days ago.”

“No, not exactly,” she replied, taking Ed’s hand again. She squeezed once and exhaled slowly when, again, she didn’t get one back, then fixed her eyes on the dark green duvet. “I admit, down in the mines it was a leap of faith, but you two made sure Ed got to safety when you could have just killed him there and gone back to Kimblee as heroes.” She shrugged. “At this point, you’ve kind of placed your eggs in our basket. Like it or not, we’re all deserters, and we’re stuck together. It wouldn’t make any sense for you to turn on us now.”

Heinkel just stared at her for a second before breaking down laughing. “How tactical,” he chuckled, making Becca flush red.

“Al-also you seem trustworthy!” she said defensively. “I thought it was implied that we could trust you at this point-!”

“Relax, kid- Becca,” he corrected, regaining control of himself. “I get it. Honestly, I’d get it if you were looking at it strictly from a tactical point of view. It’s just weird to hear something I’d get from a CO coming out of a little kid’s mouth.”

Becca smiled ruefully, practically able to hear the angry screech Ed would let out at that statement. Hell, she swore she saw him twitch in his sleep at the word “little”. She went ahead and pushed his bangs off his forehead in what she hoped was a calming motion. “Don’t let him hear you say that.”

“What happened last night?” Will asked as he pushed the door open with his crutch for breakfast.

Becca raised a questioning eyebrow and, for the first time since arriving at the clinic, responded to him. As coolly as she could manage, she asked, “What do you mean?” She focused intently on the plate of toast she’d instinctively taken from him despite the fact that the sight of food kind of made her want to throw up, because looking at Will might actually make her feel worse.

“I didn’t- I didn’t ask Heinkel or anything,” he said quickly as he got off of his injured leg, sinking into the other chair next to Becca. “Or eavesdrop. I- you weren’t very quiet. I couldn’t help but overhear-”

Alright, this was getting a little painful to listen to. “Calm down, I’m not accusing you of espionage or something like that,” Becca cut him off. “I had a little… moment. They’re not new. I’ve learned to deal with them.”

“Oh.”

Will munched on his own toast, offering Becca the small pot of jelly, which she refused. He watched her carefully, blue eyes peering over his food, as she tore the bread into smaller and smaller pieces, but didn’t eat any of it. When he raised an eyebrow of his own, she ignored how the expression almost felt like looking in a mirror and said, “‘M not really hungry.”

He sighed. “Becca…”

God, she wanted to shove him. Or maybe shake him. Either way, it would definitely include some shouting. Something like “You think I can’t feel it? You think I want this?” She knew she was losing control, yet each time she tried to grip tighter, it instead slipped further out of her grasp. Every time this issue had reared its ugly head before, she’d found that it was better to ride the wave than fight it, to do what she could until this bout abated.

Will, thankfully, didn’t push it– much. He simply spread some of the jam onto the bread for her and placed it in her hands. “Just… try. Please? You’re still healing, and your body needs energy.”

“I will,” she said and was surprised to find that she meant it. 

He nodded resolutely as he struggled back to his feet. Becca got up as well, sticking out an arm for support before she thought to stop herself. When she realized it, though, and he stared at the offered arm as if it would shock him, she steeled her nerves and didn’t retract it. Will gave her a half-smile but didn’t take it. Still, he said, “Thanks,” and added, in a semi-serious, semi-mocking tone, “Do you want anything to keep you entertained in here? Dr. Spanner has medical textbooks! Just like the good old days with Dad, right?”

Becca chuckled a bit at that, then blinked, face falling back into her best neutral expression. “Nah, I’m okay. If the Spanners have any sewing that needs to be done, that would keep my hands busy.” And make her feel slightly less guilty about the fact that the doctor and his wife had to have postponed some of their regular business and chores to care for them when they couldn’t even get the money to pay them yet.

Still with that little smile on his face, he said, “I’ll ask around.”

Huh, she thought, watching the door close behind him and settling back into her chair. A conversation with her brother where neither of their lives were in danger and she didn’t want to pull his or her own hair out. “Weird, right?” she said, hoping against hope that Ed might wake up and respond.

That night, after dinner, Becca wound up dozing on her folded arms atop Ed’s bed while Will continued some of the stories he’d told her while trying to keep her awake in the mines. As she finally began to drop off, Will’s voice slowly faded away until he’d gone silent.

“Sleep well, Becca,” he said quietly, and then a blanket was tucked around her, two achingly familiar hands fixing it so it wouldn’t fall during the night.

And Becca didn’t flinch.

Will wound up staying later than usual on the third night. He and Becca spoke more now– not a lot, per se, but more, which had to be progress– about little things, firmly ignoring the elephant in the room until-

“How the hell did we end up here?” Will asked, more to himself than anything else. “What happened to us?”

She laughed darkly, then restated, “Where should I start?”

“How about…” he said, hesitantly reaching over to take her hand, “how about you just tell me your side? Of everything? I promise I’ll listen this time. No interrupting, no justifying.”

For a moment, Becca didn’t– couldn’t– say anything. She took a shaky breath as Will scooted his chair back, ready to bolt, before she held up a hand. He froze.

“Louisa was so broken after you disappeared,” she said, breaking the thick silence. “We- we assumed you’d-” Died went unsaid.

Will swallowed. “Yeah.”

“It hurt me, but it destroyed her. She wasn’t the same…”

Telling him everything– really everything, not a snappy, abridged version reluctantly pried from between clenched teeth– took the better part of the night. More than once, she wore herself out and had to pause, collecting herself. A few times, her voice cracked with tears. The first was while recounting the day Louisa had first collapsed, when Becca had walked into the kitchen and thought she’d died then and there. Will stiffened next to her, at least until she finally gave in, leaning into his side. Slowly, he let an arm settle around her shoulders and, when she burrowed deeper into the– okay, she could admit it– comforting touch, he tucked his head atop hers, letting out a long, sad sigh.

“I’m sorry,” he croaked.

He uttered that phrase several more times before Becca finished. It seemed like each time Becca stuttered over her words, he filled the quiet with another apology.

“...And then, you know, we fell and…” Becca gestured to Ed’s prone form in the bed as she wrapped up the story, “this happened.”

“You’ve been through a lot for him,” he said, arm just barely draped across her shoulder, like he might have forgotten it was there. “He’s special, isn’t he?”

Becca flushed. Their relationship had drastically improved in the last few days, but not quite enough for the sharing of a crush yet. “I-” she faltered, then decided on, “He was there for me.”

Will sobered up at that. Again, he said, “I’m sorry.”

Heaving out a sigh of her own, Becca answered with, “It’s not entirely your fault.”

“It is -”

“It’s a little your fault,” she interjected, “but not totally.” She pulled away, looking up at him. At first, he tried to avoid eye contact, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, but Becca poked at him insistently until he finally met her eyes. “I’m sorry that I blamed you for not getting over Dad before. That bastard screwed us both up and you’re allowed to heal on your own timeline. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“I’m sorry for leaving you on your own to deal with all of that,” he said, pushing her hair away from her face. “And for attacking you. Multiple times. And for never taking the time to listen like this before. And for, well, everything else too. I know I can’t erase it all, that we might not be able to be as close as when we were kids, but- but maybe we could try to have a relationship again?”

Becca stared at him for a few more seconds. She had to be dreaming. There was no way they were having this conversation in real life. Just to check, she dug her nails into the palm of her hands and, when she didn’t wake up, barely dared to smile. Her voice cracked as she responded, “I’d like that.”

“Come on, you need some fresh air,” Will said on their fourth day at the clinic.

“I’m really okay.”

“Illusion– I mean, Becca, you haven’t seen sunlight in almost five days,” Darius said tiredly, leaning over the back of the couch with his arm covering his eyes. “And hearing you two bicker is getting incredibly annoying.”

“I’m starting to miss when you weren’t on speaking terms,” Heinkel agreed.

Will and Becca rolled their eyes in a twin motion and she protested again, “But what if Ed-?”

“Spanner said he’s still got a bit of work to do before he’ll wake up,” Will pressed.

“Or what if-”

“He also said he’s stable. He’s just resting, just like he has been every day for the last four days. Nothing’s gonna happen if we take a ten minute walk around the block,” he shut her down again. “Please? I need to stretch my leg and I can’t exactly go by myself.”

Becca frowned. Dirty trick, using a reason to get out of the house that would help him. After a short staring contest, she groaned and relented, “Fine. But just for a few minutes.”

“Great!” He heaved himself to his feet exaggeratedly (well, technically foot-and-crutch), making a show of limping to the front door, Becca groaning again and trailing in his wake.

Dr. Spanner’s clinic was conveniently placed on the edge of town, but there was a small plaza down the road. As they made their way into the square, they passed a tailor, a hat shop, and a deli that Will insisted they stop into– Mrs. Spanner had heard the racket on their way out and requested a chicken for dinner. Becca carried the bag they were given and agreed to pass by a few more storefronts before heading back.

At least until they saw the bulletin board.

The bulletin board with five fresh ‘Wanted’ posters added to it. One for Darius, one for Heinkel, one for Will, one for Ed, and one for her, all emblazoned with their names, codenames, and, most damning of all, the photos from their military IDs. These days, she was sure they all looked a little grubbier, and yet the photos were unmistakeable.

“Shit,” Will breathed.

Before Becca could react, he had already ripped hers down, crumpling it up and stuffing it in his pocket. In the next second, she yelped as he shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over her coat, covering the distinctive back panel the poster mentioned. She pushed it off her hair and onto her shoulders, then tore his down as well. Between the two of them, they managed to get the other three off the bulletin board. Suddenly hyperaware of the few people lingering on benches around the square, fear curled in her stomach and she nearly dropped the chicken in her rush to grab Will’s arm.

Will ran his free hand through his hair, turning around quickly and hurrying back the way they came. “Who knows how many people have already seen this? Dammit, what if someone already contacted them?”

“I don’t really think we have a choice other than just hope they didn’t,” Becca mumbled under her breath.

“Let’s go,” he said curtly, rushing her forward a bit. “We’ve got to tell the others.”

The weather took a turn for the worst on the sixth day. The good news was that the military was unlikely to be tracking down any tips when snow was still pouring down on them in thick waves. The bad news was that massive snowfall wasn’t exactly a mood improver for anyone who’d just been told that they were going to have to cut down on their already less than frequent outdoor time or risk drawing some less than stellar attention. Worse still, the return of freezing temperature irritated all of their still-healing wounds, hitting Will worst of all.

“Hey, kid,” Darius said, pushing the door open with her lunch, Heinkel ducking in behind him. “How’s he looking?”

“Same as he’s been,” Becca replied. She stood up to offer them both seats, fighting off the wooziness that had started taking a permanent residence in her head with each day she barely ate, but Heinkel shook his head, gesturing for her to sit back down. Becca frowned. “What’s wrong?”

Heinkel set the tray on Ed’s bed, reassuring, “Nothing major. Your brother just wanted us to pass on the message that he’s sorry, but he’s not feeling well with the weather. He’s resting.”

“Not feeling well?”

“Pain, it sounded like. His leg was agitated. He’s been trying to rest all day and he just got to sleep out there. Mrs. Spanner didn’t want to wake him up.”

“Oh,” Becca said, staring down at her hands in her lap. When dinner was late, she’d thought Will had just needed some space after the last few days. Somehow, it had slipped her mind that he was so injured. “Alright.”

When Dr. Spanner came to inspect Ed’s wounds, Becca excused herself, like usual. Though instead of hovering near the door, she cautiously stepped into the living room. For the first time, she actually paused to take note of the setup the others had been living in since they arrived. Darius and Heinkel had taken up residency on the floor, as evidenced by the massive military jackets bunched up like pillows among the piles of spare blankets while Will, as the most injured, had taken the long couch, likely by the Spanners’ insistence.

Speaking of Will, the man himself was sprawled out on the couch, mouth open, face slightly contorted in discomfort, and fast asleep. 

She grabbed one of the few folded blankets in the room, a red knit thing that had been thrown over the back cushions, and spread it over his limp body, tucking it around him just enough to stay put but taking care to not restrict him in case he woke up. Next, she plodded over to the fireplace where a pot of water was nearly always kept boiling to be used whenever necessary and dunked a small, clean towel into it. She scooped it out with a ladle and hovered it near the cooler window until it had gone from hot to warm, then laid the wet rag atop the blanket over the area where Will’s leg had been snapped in the fall. Finally, she brushed a few strands of wayward hair out of his face. He looked so much younger, she pondered. The stress of the last few days seemed to have permanently added years to his face, yet like this, he’d barely changed since he was eighteen. And he’d been doing his best, putting his own pain aside, to care for her as best as he knew how to.

Even after everything they’d done and said to each other, even if he’d forgotten a few things along the way.

Becca blinked quickly and forced herself to look away. It wouldn’t do to get so emotional right now. She’d done enough crying over him recently. It was time for some happiness.

She patted his hair one more time and backed off, only to see him smile softly in his sleep at the gesture before relaxing even further, unconsciously burrowing into the blanket. Becca bit back a grin and ducked back into Ed’s room, a tiny glimmer of hope beginning to shine in her chest.

Becca didn’t exactly believe in the power of prayer, but in this situation, maybe hope was all they truly needed. Day seven found her in her usual spot at the bedside while Darius, Heinkel, and Will had been sent out to run errands and get some fresh air (she’d almost laughed herself silly seeing their “disguises”-- each was decked out in balaclavas and scarves to cover their faces, but Will kept his distinctive rings on under his gloves, creating an awkward pattern of lumps in the fabric, and the chimeras were still, well, huge. Becca had had to force herself to laugh so she didn’t worry about someone recognizing them), but she’d opted to stay behind.

About an hour after they left, that proved to be the right decision.

She’d been idly flipping through one of Dr. Spanner’s medical textbooks, which Will had made fun of her for on his way out with an “Old habits die hard, huh?” when the blanket rustled under her elbow. Becca was up in an instant, her breath catching as she dared to let her excitement rise.

Grabbing Ed’s hand in both of her own, she held it up to her chest, squeezing it tightly.

Finally, finally , after what felt like years, his hand tightened around hers in return.

“Bex?”

Hearing his raspy voice was like her own breath of fresh air. “Oh, my God,” she whispered, bowing her head. “Oh, my God.”

She could hardly manage to look up, afraid that this all might be a cruel dream, that she’d wake up before actually seeing him awake.

When their eyes met, a smile broke out over her face and she was moving before she was even aware of it.

“Oof!” Ed wheezed out as she landed on the bed next to him and wrapped her arms around him, jostling him slightly.

Oh, my God, you idiot! Give him some breathing room, she chastised herself. “Sorry!” she squeaked, pulling back to give him space at once until his metal hand came up to grip the back of her neck and keep her firmly in place. Gold eyes met gray again and his hand shifted, cold metal moving from her neck to cup her cheek. For a moment, they just stared at each other, each scanning the other’s face. She smiled again, a little softer this time. “Hi.”

At long last, he grinned back. “Hi.”

They spent most of that night talking about nothing and everything. Without saying anything, they both understood that they needed a little while to ignore all the heavier topics that needed to be discussed. They would all still be there in the morning. 

Becca couldn’t help but have a point of contact on him the entire time like he’d fall back into the coma if she let go, be it resting her hand on his from her chair or gripping his shin or, after he’d scooted over and insisted she move next to him on the bed, slumping down onto his shoulder until they both dozed off. Dr. Spanner came in to check on him at the usual time and was startled to see him awake. Only then did Becca remember that, in her high of excitement at Ed waking up, she’d totally forgotten to actually let anyone else know. As he scolded them, the absurdity of the situation suddenly hit her. That, despite the universe’s every attempt, they were alive.

She glanced at Ed again to find him already looking at her, barely biting back a smile, and the two of them couldn’t help but burst out in joyful giggles. The puzzle that always seemed to surround them was still unfinished, but she felt one more piece, one that had fallen out as they’d crashed down into the bottom of the mine, slotted back into its place.

The next day, Ed was anxious to get moving again, but Dr. Spanner insisted he spend the day recuperating. “Really,” the doctor said as he marked down a few notes, “if I had my way, you’d spend the next week on bed rest.” Ed opened his mouth to argue. “I know that won’t happen,” Spanner interjected. “Today is not optional, though.”

Becca managed to nibble through breakfast, brought by Mrs. Spanner for a change, by lying through her teeth that she’d eaten a large dinner yesterday. Heinkel and Darius both poked their heads in at separate times throughout the day to say hello and formally introduce themselves to Ed, and Mrs. Spanner continued to deliver their meals that day. Will was conspicuously making himself scarce. After he’d skipped out on their usual breakfast conversation, it had become clear that he’d heard the news and likely assumed he wouldn’t exactly be a welcome visitor. Ed had yet to ask about him, so Becca figured he probably didn’t remember their brief conversation about him before the transmutation.

Lunch, however, was a different story. The all-encompassing glee that had come with Ed waking up had receded slightly and, now that he was back, he would start to get antsy about getting back to work. And he’d need all the information to do so.

Serious conversation time, she supposed, pushing her roast around and around her plate.

“Hey, Ed?” she started, then took a deep breath. “I think we should talk. I mean, I think you should know that some things have changed since you were last awake. Starting with my brother.”

Immediately, Ed sat up a little straighter, putting his fork down. “Your brother? He’s here?” He leaned forward, whispering, “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Becca said, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. “I have not been receiving medical attention under duress. Will’s been… different since we talked at the fort. He protected me down there, and I couldn’t leave him. Darius and Heinkel brought you here while I went to get him, and we got stuck. I got sick. I wouldn’t have made it out of here without him, and he’s been good since-”

Ed gave her a disbelieving look. “You can’t be serious.”

She took a deep breath and tried to nod understandingly. “I get your concern, really. And it means a lot that you care. But things are different this time.”

“Right.”

“They are. Just- just give him a chance. Please?”

Becca had spent long enough thinking about this conversation and was starting to decide if she should present her itemized list of “Reasons To Not Attack Will On Sight And At Least Let Him Prove Himself” in alphabetical or chronological order when Ed sighed heavily and relented, “Fine.”

“We managed to talk about a lot of our issues and we’ve made a lot of progress even if things aren’t perfect- wait, what?”

“I said fine. I’ll give him a chance. If you think he’s changed, I can’t discount him immediately, no matter how much I want to.” This time, he was the one to reach over to her, hand on her forearm. “I don’t remember most of what happened down there, but I do remember that I said it was time I prove that I trust you. So here it is. I might not have faith in him, but I have faith in you.”

Oh, boy. Why was her throat closing up? She swallowed, blinking quickly. “Thanks, Ed.”

Saying that he’d trust her about Will’s new intentions and letting go of his general dislike for him, however, turned out to be two very different things, as Becca discovered when she walked in on them in a heated stare down in the kitchen as soon as Ed was cleared to move about the house. She heard their muffled voices first and paused with her hand on the doorknob, listening carefully.

“As I’m sure she’s told you, my sister and I have already talked-”

“And as I’ve told you,” Ed said sternly, “her trust in you is the only reason I haven’t already given you an arm to match your leg. I know we’ve never gone head to head before, but if you take so much as one step out of line, I’m not going to let you hurt Becca again without going through me. She’s got people in her corner now, understand?”

 “I-”

“Alright, that’s enough,” she said as she made her presence known. Will pressed his lips together in a thin line. To some, it might have looked like Will was unbothered by the confrontation, arms crossed over his chest and reclining in his chair. But Becca could see his tense shoulders, his clenched jaw. Ed’s hand was planted on the table between them. She cocked one eyebrow appraisingly. “Is there a problem here?”

Both boys glared at each other, but when she coughed, they gave a reluctant, “No.”

“Good. We’re all on the run. That means we’re on the same team.” She let out a breath and smiled sweetly. “Now I don’t know about you two, but I think making a meal for everyone is a small thing we can do to repay the Spanners for their kindness, right?”

Chapter 52: kalon

Notes:

greetings, my dears

it is almost 2 am and

it begins

kalon (noun)- beauty that is more than skin-deep

Chapter Text

“I’ve heard some whispers that the military has been wrapping up their operations in Baschool,” Dr. Spanner said conversationally over dinner a few days later. Ed choked on his food, not quite used to the doctor’s blunt way of speaking. Becca pounded him on the back until it dislodged, shooting Spanner a dirty look, to which he shrugged, fork firmly in his mouth.

On the other side of the table, Will frowned. “That probably means they’re going to start branching out to look for us. They’ll be crawling around here before we know it.”

“How long do you think we have?” Becca asked the chimeras, the two most seasoned members of their group, as she sank back down in her chair.

“Probably less than two days,” Heinkel said, mouth full. 

“So we should be getting out of here by…?” Will prompted.

“If we’re smart, we’ll try and move by tomorrow night,” Darius said. “So we can get enough of a headstart.”

“And don’t forget, you still owe us for everything we’ve done for you,” Dr. Spanner said nonchalantly.

Ed sighed dejectedly. “Which means we have to go to town and figure out some way to access our research funds without arousing suspicion.”

“I don’t think that’s likely,” Becca said with a wince. The only way to get that money– really, the only money they had and what they’d been living off of since joining the military– was through a military-run bank, and assuming Bradley already knew they’d disappeared, he’d definitely put an order out to notify him if anyone touched those accounts. “I’d say our best bet is to get money and supplies and get out of here before anyone can respond to the sighting.”

“We’re going to have to split up to do all that in that amount of time,” Darius pointed out.

“But we don’t have any money for supplies. Can we do a switch somewhere?” Becca asked.

“Goodness gracious!” Mrs. Spanner, who’d been following the conversation like a particularly concerning five-way tennis match, exclaimed. “You’re making my head spin. We’ll lend you the money and you get a little extra out of those accounts to pay us back, alright?”

They looked around the table. Becca was sure they were all wondering the same thing: How the hell did none of us come up with that?

Slowly, Ed nodded for all of them. “That… that makes sense. Thanks.”

“Now get back to dinner. If you’re leaving tomorrow, you need your energy.”

“...Yes, ma’am,” they mumbled into their plates.

“Alright, alright, I’m not going to be able to walk if you keep adding layers,” Becca said, pushing away the third scarf Will tried to hand her. “I’ll be fine, really.”

“But-”

“No,” she said firmly as she struggled out of the fifth sweater, her voice going muffled as her head got stuck partway through. “God, Ed likes to pretend you two have nothing in common, but you guys should bond over being overprotective.”

“It’s not being overprotective when you just got over hypothermia,” Will said, the eye roll almost audible. Fabric rustled and the springs in the couch groaned as he got up and crossed the living room. Another soft thud and Becca breathed a sigh of relief, assuming he’d tossed the scarf back in the basket of spares they’d been provided and given up. “Your boyfriend would agree with me.”

Face still hidden in the sweater, Becca choked on her previous sigh. “I- we- he’s not my boyfriend.”

“Sure,” he said sarcastically, then squawked when Becca finally managed to escape the woolen confines of that damn sweater, ball it up, and threw it at him, hitting him in the face. “Hey!”

“I’m serious! You can’t repeat that to him! Or to anyone else!”

Blinking slowly, Will lowered his hands and let the clump of fabric fall to his lap. “Hey,” he repeated quieter. More intentionally. “I know you don’t need my help on this or anything, but you know you can still, like… talk to me, right?”

Becca bit her lip, gaze falling to her feet. “Ed and I…” she started, “we’re partners. He’s my best friend.”

“Isn’t that a good foundation for something more?” Will pressed gently.

“If we were normal, sure,” Becca said with a shrug, her face coloring in a hint of shame. “But we’re not. Even with your help, I’ll be stuck at the military’s beck and call for years. Once this whole mess is over, Ed and Al will be able to focus all their attention on…” She hesitated. The boys’ true circumstances weren’t her business to tell, so she quickly switched to, “...on their own goals. He doesn’t need to deal with my mess. He doesn’t have a reason to stick around. He’ll try to stay, because he’s that good and he said he’d help me, but something will happen eventually. Something always happens eventually.”

Will moved to put a hand on her shoulder, one she was proud to say she didn’t jump at, although she didn’t see it coming. She only tilted her head slightly to look up at him. “Call me crazy, but it seems to me that you might be reason enough for that. Even if he doesn’t have to.”

“You are crazy. People always say they’ll be there, they’ll be with you through thick and thin,” she said dejectedly, combing her hand through her hair, which had been left in a ponytail so there'd be less of a chance of her getting recognized when they left. “They won’t, though. People leave. They don’t always choose to, but they do. You left, Louisa left. Dad and my mom were never really there in the first place. Al’s gone. I thought I was going to lose you and Ed in the mines-”

Her brother flinched. “Becca…”

“Ed’s my best friend,” she said again, rubbing her necklace charm. “And maybe I do want to be more than that. At the same time, I can’t get more attached, not when I know it’s something I can’t have.”

Over the past few days, Becca had gotten increasingly good at recognizing the signs of another incoming apology– the pain in his eyes, the guilty gnawing at the inside of his cheek, the sharp inhale through the nose– and cut it off before it started. “It’s not all your fault. You didn’t even really mean to leave, Dad basically forced you out. I’m just- I’m glad you and Ed came back this time. It might not happen again.”

A heavy silence fell over the siblings. Becca took a long, steadying breath, her best attempt to hold herself together as she prepared to steer the conversation back into safer waters.

“You know, I had similar worries about Victor,” Will confessed suddenly.

Worries about… Victor?

Becca sniffled. “What?”

“Oh, come on, you’re smart. Did you really never figure it out?” he teased, elbowing her in the side. “From what I remember, we weren’t particularly good at hiding it.”

“Shut up!” Becca protested, elbowing him back. Sure, they’d never actually told her anything in such certain terms as ‘we’re together’, but Will and Victor had been Will-and-Victor for as long as she could remember. It had always just been an assumed truth of life. “I did so figure it out!”

“Okay, okay!” Will said with a grin. “That’s good, I don’t think we really hid it all that well.”

“You didn’t.”

“Watch it, kid. The point is ,” He ran a hand through his hair, a move Becca herself pulled and couldn’t help but smile a little as she watched, amending, “I guess my worries didn’t exactly have effects on this scale…”

“But,” Becca said, hesitating, trying to think of the best way to put her thoughts into words. She came up with, “you guys always seemed to fit together so well.”

“That was part of the problem,” Will admitted with a shrug. “I didn’t want to risk everything we already had. Then I realized that- well- Victor and I already loved each other. I thought we loved each other enough that, even if he didn’t return my feelings, he wouldn’t throw all that away, no matter what.” He rubbed small, reassuring circles on her shoulder. “I decided I’d regret not telling him. And hey, look where we ended up.”

Becca laughed, scrubbing at her eyes with the inside of her sleeve. “Yeah. You guys were always kind of gross.”

“We still are kind of gross,” Will said proudly, one finger in the air and a wide, knowing smile on his face. Jovially, he plucked a slip of paper out of his pocket and brandished it in her face. “See? Speaking of which, you’ve talked to Victor recently, right? Because I have some questions about what he wrote me-”

All it took was catching sight of a few phrases, namely ‘waiting for you’, ‘believe in you’, and ‘all my love’, for her to process Will’s words, recognize the handwriting, and perceive what she was looking at. “Ew!” she squealed, shoving his hand away. “I’m not translating Victor gushing poetic for you!”

“Come on, please? This letter’s old, he could have moved on by now-”

On one hand, she appreciated how he attempted to gracefully change the subject to a lighter one. On the other hand, she hadn’t read that letter over all these years for a reason. Technically, a few reasons. One, she wasn’t going to read Victor’s private thoughts to her brother. What he had to say was between them and them alone. Two, the two of them were gross enough when they were happy teenagers. Becca had absolutely no need to think about what angsty shit they thought about each other when the other wasn’t around. No, thank you.

She made an exaggerated gagging sound, jumping onto the ottoman to escape one of Will’s swipes. A laugh tore itself out of her as she hopped over to an armchair and he gave chase, still waving the letter. The game continued, bounding from one corner of the room to the other and back again until Becca collapsed on the couch, breathless from laughter. Will dropped down next to her and Becca would almost dare to say he was giggling .

For a second, she let herself ponder that: a few weeks ago, would she have considered this situation as a possibility? Being draped over a couch, stomach hurting from how much she laughed because of her big brother? She would have dismissed it as a hopeful, foolish, stupid fantasy. And yet, here they were.

So maybe Becca felt a little guilty herself. How could she have given up on trying to bring him back?

As if he could sense Becca getting more melancholy, Will’s energy died down a tad in unison. “Seriously though, if this guy is half as good as you think he is, he’ll do his best to make you happy,” he said, letting his arm fall over the back of the cushions. “Even if it’s not by you two… getting together or anything, it still seems like he’d try to the best of his abilities. I doubt he’d kick you to the curb over a crush.”

Becca mulled that over. Sure, Will’s theory made sense under the assumption that it was just a crush. But with each passing day, she wondered if that was truly all it was. She tipped sideways until she landed on Will’s shoulder, the silent request incredibly clear. He gasped a little, starting, then relaxed and let himself tighten his grip into a reassuring hug.

“You deserve to be happy, Becca,” he murmured.

“Thanks,” she replied, closing her eyes. “‘M still not gonna tell you what Victor’s been up to.”

“Ugh!” Will flopped his head over the back of the couch. “Why did I even bother dragging you out of those mines?”

Becca chuckled. “You can ask him yourself, you know. His number hasn’t changed.”

“I can’t just call him! What if-”

Someone cleared their throat from the doorway leading from the living room to the main hall. Becca lazily let her eyes flutter open to see Ed lingering in the door. “Hey,” he said, a hint of a question hiding behind the greeting.

Are you okay?

“Hey,” she said, smiling shyly. “You ready to go?”

Better than okay.

He nodded, pulling on his own borrowed pair of gloves while she threw on a coat, then furrowed his brow. “Are you sure you’ll be warm enough in that?”

Will laughed sharply and Becca just whined, “Oh, my God.”

“I look like a marshmallow,” Becca fumed under her breath. “You and my brother do know that overheating isn’t good either, right?”

“You nearly died. An extra jacket isn’t the end of the world,” Ed retorted.

“One extra isn’t, but try four,” she said flatly.

They’d linked arms at some point during the walk, partly for practicality so they could keep their heads down without risking getting separated and partly because Becca couldn’t stop fidgeting. At least it was slightly more inconspicuous for her to play with Ed’s too-loose coat sleeves in the shadow between their bodies than to be rubbing at the scarred notch in her throat where her distinctive necklace pendant usually lay. After consulting a rough outline drawn by Mrs. Spanner of the plaza where Becca and Will had seen their wanted posters, they’d decided that swinging by a tailor to get new, unremarkable, and, most importantly, unrecognizable clothing off of the rack for everyone would be smartest. After that, they could stop at a general store for rations on the way back to the house. Ed and Becca had left the house after Heinkel, who had the most dangerous job of going into the main part of North City to the bank, but before Darius and Will, who had volunteered to leave a map they’d scribbled on, marking a few spots they’d already decided they wouldn’t go, lying somewhere a patrol was bound to find it.

Every part of their morning had been carefully planned out, whispered, and repeated the night before until it was ingrained onto their brains. It couldn’t go wrong. The military could not track them down until they were ready to make a run for it.

So Becca pasted on a smile, tossed her newly done ponytail over her shoulder, and held onto Ed’s arm a little tighter as he pushed the door to the tailor’s shop open, gesturing for her to lead the way in.

Behind the counter stood an older woman who beamed brightly as she greeted them, “Can I help you find anything, dears? We just got some lovely silk gloves.” She gave Ed a knowing look. “They make wonderful presents.”

Next to her, Ed went red. “Ah… no. No, thank you.”

“Do you have anything more suitable for travel?” Becca piped up. “We’re going on a trip.” The woman’s eyes narrowed suggestively and Becca corrected, “With friends. We’re traveling with some friends later today.”

The shopkeeper chuckled. “Of course, follow me. All our ready-to-wear things are back this way.”

Sharing a look, the two teenagers did exactly that, trailing behind her to a collection of racks near the back of the store. The woman gestured to the space. “You can take any of this home today. Fitting rooms are there-” She pointed to a few curtained-off spaces nearby, “-and you can holler if you need anything, alright?”

“Thank you,” Ed said again, his cheeks still pink.

“Thanks,” Becca echoed.

She smiled indulgently, then said, “I’ll leave you to it.”

“Well…” Becca said, taking in the frankly overwhelming variety of clothes and accessories for every occasion spanning the entire back room. “Shall we split up?”

It didn’t take too long to find new coats, specially made for the Northern climates, for their party. They were thick, downy (incredibly heavy, Becca thought privately) things that felt like all the layers Becca had been packed into rolled into one garment. They’d even thought ahead and made a list of everyone’s sizes for shirts, pants, and boots, so those were easy to load up on as well. Somehow, though, accessories had become the bane of their existence, stuck with no reference other than their own hands and heads to test gloves and hats against.

“What do you think?” Becca asked, holding up her hands to examine the two different, much too large gloves on each one. “Would these fit Darius and Heinkel?”

Ed came over and felt around her fingers, squishing at the fabric and nearly linking their hands as he hummed thoughtfully. Becca’s breath caught in her throat at the intimate contact and she froze. For a second, she thought he might have hesitated over her spindly fingers, which, no matter how she tried to ignore it, had been getting bonier just like the rest of her over the last few weeks. What could have been a frown sparked across his face, but it was gone before she could analyze it. Oh, God, could he feel how her heart rate picked up in her palms?

“Those are probably big enough,” he said, letting go. “Do you think they’re thick enough?”

“Mmhmm.” She wiggled her fingers in the stiff, insulating material. “Have you found anything for Will?”

“Unfortunately,” Ed huffed.

She shot him a somewhat softened glare. That had been another long conversation that had kept them up at night. At the end of it, Ed had only barely been willing to let Will tag along because of his unique alchemic abilities and fighting style that could prove useful when they inevitably got into trouble, as well as Becca agreeing to act as a sort of benefactor. “He’ll be helpful,” she insisted, taking the additional pair of gloves Ed handed her and placing them on top of their pile. “And he can’t transmute if he has frostbite.”

“You all ready to try anything on?” the shopkeeper said, bustling back into the room out of nowhere and making both of them jump apart. Becca felt herself blush and averted her eyes from Ed’s face. The woman burst out laughing, apologizing for spooking them, then grabbed Becca’s upper arm with a light, guiding hand. “This way, love, let’s see what you picked.”

Safely hidden behind a curtain, the shopkeeper helped arrange all the clothes Becca had grabbed for herself. She stroked the soft fabric of a wine-red sweater, cooing, “Oh, I love this piece.” Then she patted Becca’s hair and assured, “I’ll get your boy set in the other room, take your time.”

“He’s not-” Becca started to protest before the curtain swung shut and she gave up. “Oh, whatever.”

It took her a while to even get out of what she was wearing, so by the time the woman’s hushed voice disappeared for a second time after a shrill giggle and Ed called out for her, she just pulled the red turtleneck sweater over her head. Still, she replied, “Yeah?”

“Did you… hear any of that?”

“Uh-uh. Was I supposed to?”

“Nope,” he said quickly. “Are you almost ready?”

“Yep.” She pulled the pair of warm brown pants over her stomach and up to her waist, then fastened a belt into the loops, shook her ponytail out of the neck of her shirt, and stepped into a pair of brown leather boots. There was a small mirror tacked onto the wall, so she couldn’t see her entire body, but even just the sight of her shoulders and above looked older than she was used to. She shook her head slightly, clearing away visions of pearl necklaces and extravagant makeup that she could picture on herself with that particular vision in the mirror, then ducked out of the changing area. 

In the same moment, Ed made his way out of his own curtained-off room, not looking at her as he fidgeted with the collar of the dark navy button-down he’d found. With Becca’s help, he’d paired it with a pair of dark brown trousers and he looked… mature, she realized, tamping down on a hint of pride. Not that she didn’t appreciate his distinctive personal style, but this new look, so much cleaner than the scraps he’d been wearing at the clinic and so much more adult than his usual (slightly atrocious, in the most affectionate way possible) red and black ensemble, made something warm and comforting settle in her stomach. Hell, she was so used to seeing him in his platform boots that already placed him a little taller than her that it took her a moment to realize he wasn’t wearing them. They were nearly the same height for real.

Their eyes met and Becca couldn’t help but take a deep breath, exhale, and spread her hands invitingly. “Am I unrecognizable?” she joked feebly.

He blinked a few times and stiffened, posture straightening, then opened his mouth, closed it, and finally let out a small “Wow.”

Not quite the reaction Becca would have hoped for. Her smile wavered. “It’s weird, isn’t it? I mean, I guess that’s the point since I’m not supposed to look like myself, but do you think it sticks out too much? Should I-?”

“No, Bex, that’s not what I-” Ed rubbed at the back of his neck. “You look… good. Grown up.”

“Oh,” she faltered, forcing her shoulders down from where they’d migrated up by her ears before she spoke again. She smoothed out her pants while she fought a small smile. “Thanks. But still, it’s a little weird, right?”

“So weird,” Ed said with a relieved chuckle, running a hand through his loose hair. “But you look nice. That’s- that’s what I meant.”

“You look good too,” she said sincerely. He looked away, rubbing at his collar again. “Here, I’ve got it,” Becca said as she stepped into his space. She adjusted the fabric so it sat correctly, then looked back up and rather suddenly took in how close she’d gotten when they nearly bumped noses and stopped dead.

“Becca,” Ed breathed. She said nothing, but she thought his gaze might have flicked over her face. “I-”

Before he could go on, the shop door opened once more and, as one, their heads snapped towards the sound. There was a small click as it closed, contrasted with the shopkeeper’s loud, bubbly greeting. “What can I do for you gentlemen?”

“Just some information,” a man said gruffly. Becca and Ed exchanged uneasy looks, creeping toward the main floor space and peering around the separating wall at the newcomers– two military officers.

Ed swore under his breath. Becca, for her part, clapped a hand over his mouth and shoved him down behind one of the clothing racks, her mind racing. The doctor’s information about the military’s activity must have been out of date by the time it reached them, she thought, horrified.

“We’re looking for several fugitives.” Papers rustled and they heard a thump as one of the soldiers dropped something onto the counter. Becca fought the urge to crane her neck to see it. “Have you seen any of these people around here in the last week or so?”

Tapping on her hand until she moved it, Ed whispered, “Grab everything you can carry, let’s get out of here. There has to be a back door or- or a window or something.”

Becca nodded wordlessly as anxiety swelled up. In an effort to push it down, she went to rub at the scar on her neck again with one hand while she swept as much of their things up as she could with the other, only to hit the fabric of her sweater rather than the familiar skin. Her panic spiked and she forced herself to focus on grabbing all the clothes they needed so she didn’t think about what was definitely going through that woman’s head. She stood up and, as smoothly and silently as she could, started picking her way away from the soldiers and shopkeeper.

She barely thought to reclaim the clothes they’d borrowed from the Spanners, only remembering when she snuck by the changing area. Step after calculated step, she inched on her way until she reached the very back of the shop and, blessedly, a back door.

Ed appeared from around the corner, arms piled high with clothes. Becca beckoned him closer and slowly pushed the door open.

With their luck, the damn thing squeaked. The teenagers flinched and Becca leaned back towards the front as if that would help her hear the conversation they’d moved away from. Instead, she heard three sets of footsteps coming their way.

“This way,” the woman said hushedly. “They might still be in the changing room.”

Becca looked back to Ed, eyes wide, and she could see the exact moment that he thought Fuck it . He grabbed her hand and shoved the door the rest of the way open, letting it bang against the outside wall, then dashed into the snow, dragging Becca behind him.

“Hey!” one of the soldiers shouted right before the door slammed shut.

“Wait,” Becca said, tearing her arm out of his grip. She transmuted pieces of the wall on either side of the door and stretched them across the door, effectively locking the soldiers and the woman inside from that door. “Okay, now go!”

They ran for it.

So they’d have to get rations after their first day of travel. That was fine, Becca was telling herself. They could work with that.

She and Ed had stopped running, but still moved quickly and silently through the streets. They’d paused to pull on their scarves and hats to hide their faces and so Becca could put on gloves, and once more when they’d found a few abandoned bags they could messily cram the clothes in when she pointed out how odd it would look to parade down the street with an unorganized stack of stolen clothing, but now they’d set a good pace and should be back at the clinic in a few more minutes as long as they didn’t run into any more trouble.

Of course, that was never the way things went for them. They were crossing a bridge over a small, frozen creek and the clinic was literally in sight when Ed gripped her arm, spinning her around so her back was towards the clinic.

“Don’t look. One block down,” he said under his breath. “Military car. Two guys leaning against it.”

“We can’t just sit here until they’re gone,” she whispered back. “They’ll notice two people stopped in the middle of the sidewalk.” Without moving her head, she spotted a railing on the side of the bridge with a view over the snow-covered horizon. “Here. Pretend we’re taking in the scenery.”

Feigning casualty, they shuffled up to the railing, not looking at each other. Behind her back, Becca heard spluttering as the car started and began to crawl down the street. The outskirts of North City weren’t exactly traffic hubs, but the car moved slowly anyway. Becca forced herself to relax, staring blankly out at the horizon. As the car passed them, she edged closer to Ed until they were shoulder to shoulder, both waiting with bated breath as the rattling started to fade away.

Finally, the car turned a corner and was gone. Becca closed her eyes and let her head tip backward. “Oh, my God.” She turned to Ed only to find him already looking at her. Oh, my God, she repeated internally, absentmindedly registering how they were nose to nose again, his warm breath fanning over her face. She cleared her throat. “Sorry,” she said, backing off a step.

“Bex, wait,” Ed said quickly, his arm snapping out to grasp loosely at her elbow. He inhaled shakily. “Please.”

They shouldn’t do this. She should not allow this to happen.

“I- I think they’re gone,” she mumbled.

“I know, but I-”

He scooted a little closer, enough to be noticeable but not enough that he was crowding her. She could put a hand on her chest and push him backward. She should push him away.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you-”

They had swiveled so her back was to the rail, but he didn’t even put a hand down onto the metal. She could move.

“-You’re my best friend, but you’re also- you’re also a lot more than that. Because I-”

Her mouth was so dry. “Yeah?” she rasped.

She should move, but she only found herself pressing closer.

“-I really like you, Bex,” Ed murmured. His hands moved up to rest on her shoulders, not confining her in any way just a gentle, grounding pressure. There was no mistaking it this time when his eyes flicked down to Becca’s lips as his tongue swiped out to wet his own.

She really, really should shake him off, but how could she when they were so uncomfortably, temptingly, wonderfully close? His golden eyes were right there and they were focused entirely on her.

Before she could think better of it, she whispered, “Me too.”

That beautiful face broke into an ecstatic grin, and really, Becca didn’t think she should be blamed for what came next. When Ed surged forward, she met him halfway.

Becca had read about first kisses in books, how they were like fireworks being set off. Incendiary and explosive and passionate and epic. She wasn’t exactly an expert on the subject, but she’d argue that those had to pale in comparison to this.

This felt like being welcomed home, like rereading a favorite book, or a song she’d always subconsciously known. It was warm and gentle and- and-

And for a moment, all the reasons why this was a bad idea, why she hadn’t pursued him, didn’t matter. Who cared about the fraternizing laws? Why was she ever worried about messing up their friendship? Who gave a damn what anyone else thought? They were Ed and Becca, and in that moment, she recalled all the times when it should have been obvious that Ed and Becca would turn inevitably into Ed-and-Becca.

And then that moment ended and everything came rushing back.

Becca jerked away, already talking before she’d taken a breath. “We can’t do this.”

Ed stumbled forward at the sudden movement, hands planting on either side of her to catch himself. “I- huh?”

Gold eyes, just filled with joy, clouded over in confusion. She hated herself a little for it but steeled herself. “We- I can’t-”

“You didn’t-” Ed said, taking a step back. He folded his arms over his chest defensively, curling in on himself. “You didn’t like-”

“No!” she said quickly. Against her better judgment, she reached for his wrist and pulled him back in. “No, no, I- I liked it. I like you! I like you a lot, it’s just-” She had to avert her eyes, unable to look at his disoriented face for a second longer. She sighed. “I want this so bad, it hurts, Ed.”

“So take it,” Ed encouraged in a quiet voice, just for the two of them to hear.

“Don’t you see? I can’t-” His hands came back up, resting on her cheeks and tilting her head back up. She could have pulled away again, kept avoiding his eyes, his disappointment, but at the same time, she couldn’t. Because he wasn’t angry. He spoke softly. He looked confused, yes, but not like he would force the answers out of her. Just like he wanted to understand. Becca’s voice broke. “I can’t do this to you.”

His fingers tightened a little on her face and he took a shaky breath, but he didn’t drop his hands. “Do what?”

“I- this,” she said, gesturing down at herself. “My life is a mess, Ed. It’s going to be a mess for a long, long time. I can’t ask you to deal with that. With me. You have your own life you need to live and-” She sniffed, trying to keep her composure despite how he was looking at her. “And you deserve to live it.”

His thumbs stroked across her cheekbones. “Becca-”

“Not to mention how much trouble we’d get in,” she continued, looking away again. “We’d be court-martialed for sure, for- for fraternization, and Mustang would lose his-”

“Becca-” he said again, leaning closer again.

“Plus, I don’t want to ruin our friendship because you’re my best friend too-”

“Becca!” he cut her off. He tilted slightly so their foreheads were resting against one another. A little quieter, he asked, “Could you look at me?”

She didn’t stand a chance against him. She glanced up, lips still downturned in a frown.

“Well, first of all, you’re going to be my best friend, no matter what,” he began earnestly. “Nothing could change that, not after everything we’ve been through. Who else can I bond with over getting eaten by a fucking homunculus? Ling? I’d kill him in the process! Nice try, but you can’t get rid of me that easily.”

Becca couldn’t help but giggle at that.

He smiled at the sound, going on, “And I hate to break it to you, but we’re already in massive trouble. Even if we weren’t, I don’t give a damn about fraternization laws. We can keep this a secret from the military. If you don’t want to tell anyone, then we won’t. It’s nobody’s business but ours.”

She nodded slowly. She hadn’t really considered that before.

“I hate everyone who ever made you feel like a burden,” he said gently. Becca opened her mouth to protest, but he took one hand and put it over her mouth. “Please, let me finish.” He waited until she nodded, then moved his gloved hand back to her cheek. “You’re not just some task to me, Becca.”

“Not now, but-”

He shushed her lightly. “Let’s not think about the future. Let’s just… start with one day at a time.”

“One day at a time?” she said thoughtfully.

“And today,” he pressed on, “I would really like to kiss you again.” He beamed hopefully at her, then faltered when she didn’t say anything. “So… can I?”

She stared at him for a few more seconds, brow furrowing, and then she smiled hesitantly. “I- I think I’d like that too.”

The second kiss wasn’t quite as cautious as the first one, Ed’s hands still on her face, Becca’s surging up to grip his elbows. The cold of the railing pressed into the small of her back, but she couldn’t bring herself to care. Her smile widened each time they pulled away for air, then move right back together. Their noses bumped and they laughed breathlessly, tilting their heads a bit so they could slot together more easily. At one point, Becca shifted her hands to run through his hair, relishing in the feeling of gold locks twisting around her fingers. Vaguely, she wondered how his hair was still so damn soft after everything they’d been through. The Spanners’ shampoo and conditioner weren’t that good. The thought made her chuckle again, which only seemed to spur Ed on, pressing a firmer kiss to her lips.

It wasn’t perfect. Honestly, it was a bit awkward. But Becca couldn’t have been happier.

Eventually, they had to pull away for good. When she opened her eyes, it was to see how Ed was practically glowing in the sun reflected off the snow. They stared at each other for a moment before he broke, laughing shyly and letting himself wilt forward, resting his head on her shoulder. Becca quickly followed suit, chuckling again and tilting her head to rest on his.

“We should get back,” she said in his ear. She honestly wasn’t sure how long they’d stood there, but it wouldn’t be surprising if everyone else had already beat them back to the clinic. Then she remembered. “Oh, my God, the military’s nearby. We need to go!”

“Oh, shit!”

They each grabbed a bag of clothes that they’d dropped at some point during… well, everything, and bolted back to their feet. Like he wasn’t even thinking about it, Ed stretched out his arm until Becca entwined their fingers. And then, together, they ran for it.

Chapter 53: apricity

Notes:

greetings, my dears!

sorry for that unplanned hiatus my loves. i had some writers block and shockingly when that combines with moving back to school and the start of classes, it gets a little hectic. i'm thinking for the next chapter, it'll be a little compilation of fluff. it should be a grand old time and i can't wait to bring my boy ling back into the picture soon enough :)

(also i found some typos in the last chapter so sorry if you got two notifs from me lol)

getting back into the swing of things has been an adventure since this year i'm cooking for myself instead of relying on dining hall food and i also panicked and bought a fuck ton of pasta. so if anyone has any good recipes and wants to drop them below i'm begging you please feel free. a girl can only eat pasta with butter, parmesan, and salt so many times.

anyways, enough rambling from me, enjoy the chap, byeeeee

apricity (noun)- the warmth of the sun in winter

Chapter Text

They barely made it over the threshold before a blue-uniformed soldier stopped them with a firm, “Hey! Stop right there, you two!”

On instinct, they both stiffened, and then Ed breathed out, “Relax,” as they pivoted to face the man, expression stony and jaw firmly set.

“Yes, sir?” Becca said when it became obvious Ed was planning on the silent treatment. She shifted her voice upwards into a higher, less recognizable octave, the change not entirely intentional. “Can we help you?”

“Do you work here?”

“Um…” In a flash, Becca weighed the pros and cons and made the split-second decision to leap on the lifeboat the man offered. “Yes.” She gestured vaguely down the wood-paneled hallway to one of the many other businesses in the line. “Down there.”

The soldier’s, a private by the insignia on his coat, eyes lit up. “Have you seen anyone suspicious frequenting this area lately?”

“Suspicious how?” Ed said gruffly. “What do they look like?

The soldier read off a piece of paper, “We’re looking for a group of five fugitives– two large men, one blonde with a mustache and one dark-haired with long sideburns, another blonde man with many rings, and two children. One kid has dark hair usually worn in a bun, a silver necklace, and a scar on her neck-” She was suddenly very glad she’d left her necklace in the clinic, “and the other one is described as having long, braided blonde hair, a red coat, and… short.”

Becca’s hand automatically tightened its grip on Ed’s, a warning to please, please, please just let it go, just this once, that he ignored, stomping forward.

“Ed, don’t-” she started as he wound up with his metal arm, then winced when his fist made contact with the soldier’s nose. There was a loud thud as he collapsed in a heap, out cold, and they both froze. “You,” Becca hissed through her teeth, “are such an idiot.”

“Hey!” he protested, smirking. “I thought we were having a moment before, you can’t just-”

She blushed and kicked his metal shin in retaliation. “Not now. You think he was the only one? Someone else is going to-”

The clinic door was kicked open and a second soldier stormed out, wielding a pistol. “Harris!” he shouted in alarm, then whipped around to face them, pressed against the opposite wall. He started in recognition and yelped, “You!”

“Okay,” Becca sighed, readying herself for a fight.

Then she dropped to one knee, swept out her other leg, and knocked him to the ground. His gun clattered out of his hand and, when he scrambled to grab it, she took the opportunity to grapple with him until she could get a grip around his neck and squeeze where she knew the carotid artery was for a few seconds until he went limp and she could gently lower him the rest of the way down. She checked his pulse– it was fine– before getting back up. Except for the man’s initial shouts, the interaction had been mostly silent.

“And no one’s the wiser,” she said. 

Ed rolled his eyes, bowing exaggeratedly. “All hail.”

“Let’s just go.”

They hurried inside, past Heinkel, the Spanners, and Will, a hat haphazardly crammed onto the latter’s head to hide his hair, who all pointed them towards the back bedroom.

“Harris? Coen? What’s going on?” a man called roughly. “Report back, Coen!”

“Watch this,” Ed bragged, winding up again. Becca rolled her eyes, then jumped when he punched through the damn wall (!). There were a few thumps while he felt around for whatever he was looking for before he grunted, flexing for a few seconds before letting go and drawing his hand back. There was another, louder thud on the other side of the wall. “There.”

“I’ll give you that,” Becca said, shrugging.

“Damn, kid,” Darius said. Ed offered a hand to Becca as they crossed the threshold into the room, which she took, stepping delicately over the final soldier’s prone body. The chimera sat up in the bed and kicked his legs over the edge. “You shouldn’t be pushing yourself. You’re not 100% yet.”

“Calm down, it wasn’t just me,” Ed fired back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Bex got one of them too.”

Darius raised an eyebrow. “Okay, and? Neither one of you is fully healed.”

Ed opened his mouth to argue, but Will interrupted, “Is everyone okay back there?”

“We’re fine! Start gathering all the supplies you can carry, it’s time to go!” Becca called back, then, quieter, “Healed or not, I think we’re out of recovery time,” she said, gesturing down toward the unconscious soldier at her feet.

“Right,” Darius grunted, hauling himself to his feet. He hustled them out to the living room where their bags had been piled into a corner and thrown under a blanket, then patted Dr. Spanner on the shoulder. “Thanks for everything, Doc. Your money’s on the table-”

“Yeah, yeah, save it,” Spanner said, waving him off while Heinkel grabbed Will by the collar to get him up and moving off the couch. Within minutes, both Spanners had shooed them out past their welcome mat. “Get out of here!” he insisted before slamming the door.

Their group blinked at one another, then, as one, sighed heavily.

“Let’s go, I guess,” Ed said, shrugging and picking a loaf of bread off the top of a bag stuffed with food. He took a large bite and, mouth full, pondered, “So they’re looking for a red coat and braid, huh?”

“Luckily, you look good like this too.” Becca ruffled his loose hair until he ducked away, a small smile on his lips. 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Will raise his eyebrow in her direction. She didn’t exactly have time to fire anything back, though, since another group of footsteps thundered around the corner the instant she went to reply. “Hey, you! Freeze!” Their shoulders all tensed except for Ed, who gave a long-suffering eye roll. None of them turned around and Darius, Heinkel, and Will’s hands all flew to their sides where Becca knew they each kept a military-issued handgun. “Put your hands where I can see them!”

“Put the gun down,” another soldier hissed, clearly not meant for them to overhear. “There are kids over there, man!”

Kids, Becca thought, bewildered, fighting the urge to laugh hysterically as her heart beat much too loudly in her ears and she turned around. Over her shoulder, Heinkel mumbled something under his breath moments before his large arm wrapped around her chest and the cold barrel of a gun pressed against her head.

“You freeze!” Darius ordered, one elbow locked around the neck of a much too nonchalant Ed, mouth still full, and his gun pointed at Will, whose hands were raised above his head and eyes were filled with panic a little too convincing to be entirely faked. “Or we’ll put a bullet in their brains before you can blink!”

Will squeaked.

“How dare you?!” one of the soldiers gasped, scandalized. “You’re really going to stoop to involving innocent children, scum?”

While Ed heaved a sigh (Becca stepped on his foot), Heinkel spoke up, “We’d be stupid to let so many useful hostages go to waste. Now drop your guns!”

The soldiers shifted uneasily, gazes darting around for some kind of instruction. A few started to let their weapons fall and, as one, both chimeras turned tail and fled, dragging the others with them amongst the soldier’s indignant shouts.

“Get them! Move, now!” someone ordered, but before any of them could obey, the clinic door banged open, the sound like a gunshot, and the Spanners jumped out. 

Becca’s heart dropped until the couple clung to a few soldiers each, digging their heels into the ground and squealing, “Thank goodness you’re here!”

“We were so scared!” Mrs. Spanner whimpered while her husband nodded frantically. “You can’t leave us alone!”

“I- get the hell off of me!”

Her heart flooded with affection for the doctor and his wife and she pressed down a smile, flashing a quick thumbs up to the pair, receiving a wink from Mrs. Spanner in return before Heinkel gave her another firm tug and they were able to duck around a corner.

Becca stumbled over her feet a few times when they shifted from a quick walk to an all-out sprint, but was able to recover. Her brother, however, was not so lucky. His broken leg didn’t do him any favors and he barely managed to avoid crashing to the ground in the first couple of steps. Becca cringed, pulling on Heinkel’s sleeve from where his hand was still clenched around her wrist. “I’ll keep up, help him!”

“Sure, kid,” the lion chimera replied, then hoisted Will up and over his shoulder despite his loud protest.

“Careful!” Becca scolded automatically as his leg twisted. “He’s still injured!”

“‘M fine!” Will said through gritted teeth. “Put me down!”

They didn’t have any more time to argue, though. They’d reached the door to the street. Darius held up his gun, kicked the door out, and shouted, “Move it!” before opening fire on the men lingering outside, who all dove behind whatever shelter they could find and effectively cleared the way for their escape. “Get us a car!” he snapped at Heinkel.

“On it!” Holding Will steady with one arm, Heinkel grabbed a private who’d jumped behind an open car door by the collar and tossed him aside like a ragdoll. 

Then he heaved Will into the back seat, all but dropping him into the corner while he grunted in pain again. Becca bit her lip against rebuking him again for the rough treatment and threw herself in next to him, sliding further than intended until she slammed into him herself with a small “Oof!” A few seconds later, Ed slid in, pulling the door shut with a crash as he barrelled in, squishing into Becca. Heinkel hopped in the driver’s seat and Darius vaulted over the hood and into the passenger side. 

Pushing himself up, Ed yelled, “Drive!”

Heinkel wasted no time and floored it. There was a screech from the wheels grinding against the snow and asphalt, and then they were off.

“Hurry, they won’t take long to regroup,” Becca said anxiously as she straightened into the middle seat, forcing herself to look forward in hopes of recognizing an easy way out.

Sure enough, a few moments later, more military cars were close behind them. Will finally managed to sit up, glanced out the rearview window, and bit out, “Hey, Heinkel, why are you driving like a fucking 80-year-old woman?”

“You wanna give this a shot, pretty boy?” the chimera fired back, eyes glued on the road.

“Turn, now!” Ed demanded suddenly.

“What?!”

“Take the next left and make a U-turn! I have an idea!”

“Are you insane?” Becca yelped.

“Just trust me!”

Heinkel whipped the vehicle around the corner as instructed and nearly spun out, but they did end up facing the opposite direction so they’d be able to see their pursuers coming. “Nobody move!” Ed barked, clapping his hands together.

Becca covered her ears as the metal around her ground against itself, twisting and morphing into something new under Ed’s command. When the transmutation ended, no one dared to breathe until Becca chanced a look at the trio of military cars puttering past. She let out a shaky breath.

“They’re gone.”

“Good,” Darius said, rolling down the window. He stuck his head out and made a face. “Now fix the damn car so we can get out of here, Fullmetal.”

“Fix?!” Ed groused. “It looks badass!”

Will peered out his window as best he could without jostling his leg. “Good God,” he said, resigned, reeling away from whatever he saw outside. “We need something low-key, Elric.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Becca settled back into her cramped middle seat as Heinkel started the engine back up and the boys continued to bicker amongst themselves. Somehow, she didn’t think she needed to look to imagine the ostentatious exterior Ed had created. Given his track record, she could easily picture the bright colors, harsh angles, and sharp spikes that had undoubtedly taken up residence on the car. She resisted the urge to smirk at the mental image. Nothing about their situation was funny.

“You got a problem with my taste?” Ed demanded.

“You don’t have any!” the other three barked in unison.

She cracked at that, huffing out a small laugh. It was a little funny.

It took until they were a few miles outside of North City to convince Ed to turn the car back to normal– technically, it took Becca suggesting she do it, which was firmly rejected on the basis of “it’s fine, Bex, they’re just trying to cramp my style!” and Will threatening to change it himself and Ed grouched about how he wasn’t going to let the homicidal maniac mess with the car– but eventually, Heinkel pulled over so they could make the changes and come up with a more cohesive plan for their next steps.

Becca helped Will out of the car (which was, as she predicted, quite a sight. She couldn’t decide what was worse, the bright yellow horns or the green front grill), letting him lean onto her until she found a relatively clean rock he could sit on. “I’ll make you another crutch,” she said, leaving no room for argument.

Of course, he still tried to argue. “It’s fine, Becca.”

“It’s not. Your leg won’t heal properly. Sit.”

He complained quietly, but didn’t object again as she scrounged around for a large enough stick. The crutch she transmuted wasn’t exactly advanced and she didn’t have the material available to add any cushioning, but at least he wouldn’t be walking on it anymore. Begrudgingly, he accepted it and then tried to stand up.

“Hey, hey, hey, just because you can get up doesn’t mean you have to,” Becca said, gently pushing him back down. “Relax. It’s been a stressful last few days.”

“Not entirely stressful for you, it seems,” he replied with a chuckle.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. Just that you and Elric seemed… touchy earlier.”

Becca’s face reddened. “Shut up.”

“I was just going to ask if you’d talked!” he said, raising his hands in surrender. She shoved him, suppressing a smile, and he grinned. “So did you?”

Becca couldn’t even try to hide the happiness in her voice when she answered a simple, “Yeah.” Really, her best bet was to hope that she could get Will to move on before he called out how lovestruck she sounded (maybe because she was). “Did you call Victor?”

That seemed to do the trick. Similarly lovestruck, her brother ran a hand through his hair and echoed, “Yeah.”

“I’m not gonna ask what you talked about-”

“We’re going to give it another shot.”

“-And you’re telling me anyways.”

“And he says he never stopped loving me,” Will sighed contentedly. “That he’d been waiting all this time-”

“Gag,” Becca said, standing up.

“Oh, come on, I thought you’d be happy for me!”

“I am! I just don’t want to hear about the gooey stuff, like I’m sure you don’t want to hear about how Ed said he hated anyone who made me feel like a burden-”

“Ew, okay, fine, I see what you’re saying.” He shooed her away, sinking a little onto the rock and closing his eyes. “Go make nice with my tiny enemy. I need my rest.”

She obeyed, a giddy skip in her step as she headed over to the snowbank Ed had claimed. “Mind if I sit?”

The solemn, straight-faced look that had taken up residence on his face melted away, replaced by a bright smile. “Not at all.”

“Alright, well, I’m not actually going to do that since I don’t want to get wet,” she said dismissively. Ed put his hand down, like he’d just realized that the snow was melting under him, and made a face. “Alright, I’ll just do this,” Becca amended, kneeling down on a small, somewhat dry patch of dirt, then took his hand. “How are you holding up?”

“We- we’ve gotta catch up to Al,” Ed said, fixing his gaze back on the ground, “and hope he was able to intercept Winry and the others. I’m trying to think, if I was Al, where would I-”

“That’s not what I asked,” Becca cut him off. She traced her fingers up to cup his cheek, tilting his chin up so he had to look at her. “How are you ?”

He blinked at her once, then averted his eyes. “I shouldn’t have let my guard down around quickly. What a setback, huh?”

Becca didn’t need years of friendship to hear the undercurrent of that dark joke. I feel guilty.

And, well, that just wouldn’t do.

“Ed,” she said softly. “The collapse wasn’t your fault. None of us knew Kimblee had two Stones.”

“I should have known he’d pull something like that, though,” Ed protested. “Even back at the fort, there’s no way he would have given me his Stone unless he had some kind of backup plan. I should have assumed back then so we could have planned for it.”

“No one would assume that a person could be evil enough to have two, not when you know what it takes to create one. You couldn’t have known because you’re not wired to think of horrible things like that.” She caressed his cheekbone with her thumb, trying to soothe him, although even she knew she could only do so much. She tried for a feeble joke. “Hell, I always think the worst of people and even I didn’t consider something like that.”

Ed hardly reacted, pulling away from her touch. “I put everyone in danger.”

“You didn’t,” Becca murmured. She took in the space between them and sighed before resigning herself and plopping all the way down into the snow so they could be shoulder to shoulder. “You can’t predict the future. There was no way you could have known.”

“But I-”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she repeated, pressing closer as the snow soaked into her clothes. “I’m putting my barely-not-hypothermic ass on the line to reassure you here.”

Ed breathed out a laugh. He leaned over onto her shoulder, wrapping an arm around her, and pressed a kiss to her temple. Despite the circumstances, Becca’s heart fluttered that he could just do that now. “Okay, come on. Let’s get up.”

“Not your fault,” she said again as he helped her to her feet.

Their hands clasped together as if it was the most natural thing in the world. “We should get moving again. And there should be some blankets in the seats so you won’t get sick again.”

“Ed,” she said firmly, stopping him with a tug. “Look at me.” She waited until he did as he was told and promised, “This isn’t your fault. But we’re going to fix it anyway, right?”

“Right,” he agreed, tugging right back. “Seriously, though, let’s warm up. We should find a map too. I want your opinion on where to go next.”

She smiled broadly, letting him lead her back to the car. They split when they got there, Becca grabbing the blankets while Ed dug around the glove compartment for a map, then bundled up together in the back seat. The chimeras and Will were still outside, but they kept their voices low anyway as they shuffled through the pros and cons of each plan they came up with.

“I mean, if they went north, they would have hit the fort by now and we would have heard about it,” Becca reasoned. “The guys at the clinic would have tried to use it as a bargaining chip.”

“You’re right. But Al would try to go somewhere familiar, right?” Ed replied, biting the inside of his cheek. “Somewhere we know we have allies who could keep Winry, May, and Marcoh safe.”

“Ah…” she said slowly, nodding. “That makes sense, I hadn’t thought of that.”

“But we don’t have any more allies up here, not since Armstrong is gone,” he continued.

Becca glanced over the map at all the places they’d gone over the course of their travels. In East City or Central City, they’d probably be able to hide in plain sight, but she didn’t think Scar would allow them to take that chance. Resembool might be their best bet, but would he risk going that far? She furrowed her brow. “Well, no matter, we’ll have to go south, then.”

It was a feeble suggestion and she knew it, but it was better than nothing. Ed closed the map, tossing it haphazardly back in the front seat, looking a little dejected. “Resembool’s probably our best bet to aim for, but the military might already be there. I guess the best case scenario is that we just meet up with them first.”

“Hey, at least we’ve got a car,” Becca said, pressing a kiss to his clothed shoulder. “We’ll find them. And until then, Al and Winry are tough. They’ll take care of each other.”

“I know,” he mumbled. “I just wish we could be there with them.”

“We will be, soon,” Becca swore. “But we better get moving. I’ll go help Will.”

“I’ll get Heinkel and Darius.”

Becca slid out from under the blanket to go retrieve her brother. Ed, on the other hand, just propped his side door open and shouted towards where the two men had their heads bent low in conversation, “Hey! Let’s go, we’ve got somewhere to be!”

“Quit interrupting an adult conversation, pipsqueak!”

Chapter 54: agathokakological

Notes:

...heyyyyy, my dears.

so turns out college is hard

lol everything's going fine, just horribly busy. add in midterms and a healthy dose of writers block and turns out i needed to lock myself in the library for three hours to get my butt back in gear and finish this chapter. in the end, it turned out a lot better than the first draft i had, so i am very glad i waited (i revised that first draft and turned it into a side story, though, if you haven't checked that out yet, fyi. wink wonk)

i'm planning on continuing to ride the high and giving y'all an extra long chapter for your patience asap, but i think masterpiece is going to have to go on a bit of a "whenever i can", sporadic updating schedule for a hot minute, at least until winter break when i can hopefully get ahead a little. i'll do my best to keep you guys updated. it genuinely means so much that y'all have stuck around and i promise i'm not abandoning this work, just having to put it on the backburner for a while.

thank you so much for your understanding and i'll see you all soon :)

agathokakological (adjective)- composed of both good and evil

Chapter Text

Save for a quick pit stop to gather rations, they didn’t get out of the car until Ed had directed Darius to park next to a familiar dilapidated house. They’d been stuck taking backroads and travelling mostly under the cover of darkness, so a journey that should have only taken a day or two had wound up taking nearly four days, and Becca could tell it was about time everyone get some space before the car exploded with pent-up strain. She herself desperately needed a break from sitting in between Ed and Will and fielding their childish insults at each other, so she let everyone else climb out first and took a moment of quiet before joining the others in their survey of the house. The interior of the car had been warm only in name, icy tension cancelling out any shared body heat, but it was something. Without it, she started to shiver as she pressed up against the window, taking in the intimidating sight before her.

The house hadn’t changed since their first visit, if she could call it that. Nobody had noticed the destruction that Gluttony had caused last time. Or perhaps nobody had cared. Half of the house was still gone, nothing but a pile of splintered wood left behind, and there’d been no visible attempts to fix it. Becca shuddered remembering the attack, but forced herself to get out of the false protection of the car before the others could notice her absence.

Will whistled lowly under his breath. “Damn, Becca, I know we didn’t have many happy memories here but please tell me you didn’t, like, sell the house in Adethal or anything for this.”

“Where the hell are we?” Darius asked, curling his lip in disgust. “What is this place?”

“It’s not ours,” Becca said, rolling her eyes as she approached them. “Just an old hideout. We used this as a rally point with Colonel Mustang one time, so it’s probably his. Or one of his allies’.”

“Makes sense that the only property the bastard might have in his name is this piece of crap,” Ed huffed. “It sucked even before Gluttony went on his rampage and trashed it.”

Will’s eyes went wide. “Hold on a second, the homunculus know about this place? And you brought us here? Are you two insane?”

“Oh, shut up!” Ed snapped back. “We’re not stupid. Yes, the homunculi know about this place, but they’d never think we’d come back here. Not after what happened last time. So really, we’re one step ahead of them, and Al and I practically share the same brain. He’s probably around here somewhere. Come on, let’s spread out and find him.”

Al was not there somewhere.

In fact-

“There’s nobody here, you moron!” Heinkel shouted up the stairs of the drafty old house. It was cold outside, but hardly any better inside. Becca had already shrunk closer to Ed to leech some of his unfairly high body heat, so she felt it when he twitched irritably next to her. But he didn’t argue. He couldn’t argue.

“No one’s been here in a long time either,” Darius observed as they descended back down to the main level. He smacked Ed upside the head, his large hand barely missing clipping Becca as well. She flinched a bit, not that he seemed to notice. “Bet on the wrong horse, huh, kid?”

“Can it, Mr. Gorilla!”

Will had lowered himself down on an understuffed, dirty couch, though if his barely-perched positioning was anything to go off of, he was trying to touch as little of the fabric as possible. “So, what now? We start from square one?”

“No, we don’t start over, we just have to-”

Darius froze first, then Heinkel. Heinkel held up a finger just in time for all of them to be able to hear the front door creak open and the first squeak of the floorboards. Quick as a flash, Becca reached over and turned down the intensity of the lamp they’d lit, then backed up against the wall. Ed did the same, peering around the doorframe while the rest of them prepared to attack. Becca was about to transmute something– anything– to halt the intruders progress through the wall, but there was a small groan and Ed shouted, “Wait! Don’t hurt him!”

Something thudded to the wooden floor. Becca stepped out into the hallway and her mouth fell open at the sight of Ling Yao’s body collapsed on the ground. “What on earth-?”

Maybe she shouldn’t have been surprised, she thought, taking another few hesitant steps towards the prince, given his track record. Ed was right by her side. “Ling?” he said loudly, trying to rouse the prince on the floor. He stepped forward, reaching for his shoulder and about to shake him, and repeated, “Hey, Ling!”

Becca stopped him with a hand on his collar. “Careful. It could be Greed.”

“Oh, right.” Ed straightened back up and poked the prone body with the tip of his boot. “Hey. Hey, asshole.” The man on the floor groaned again. Ed pushed on. “Which one are you, huh?”

“So… hungry…” he whimpered, flopping onto his side so they could see his face. His pathetic-expressioned, slightly sunken face, complete with a deceptively innocent pout that brightened into a smile when he got a good look at them. “My… friends! Never thought… I’d see friends… in a place like this…!” he said excitedly, squirming until he could look up at them. “Do you… have any food?”

All at once, the tension drained out of their bodies. “Oh, for the love of God,” Becca said, looking up at the ceiling like there would be something to help her keep her patience with the prince of Xing written on the rotting wood.

Ed just gave a long-suffering huff. “Alright, that’s definitely Ling.” He bent down, hoisting one of Ling’s arms over his shoulder. Becca moved forward and took the other. Still, he was taller than both of them, so they wound up more dragging than carrying him inside the main part of the house. The others watched in morbid fascination and Will scurried out of the way, allowing them to drop him on the couch, and then Ed waved his hand dismissively. “You heard him. Can we get some rations in here?”

As soon as they wafted a can of beans, heated over the fire Heinkel had had the brilliant idea of starting in the fireplace, under Ling’s nose, the boy sat up, instantly more jovial. He ate his way through every item of food they put in front of him (Becca made sure Ed didn’t offer him quite everything they had), then leaned back, patting his stomach. “Man! You guys are lifesavers, thanks! I really felt like I was going to starve out here!”

“Good to know you’re still you when you’re hungry, Ling,” Becca said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Really, you took on Greed, but you should have taken on Gluttony,” Ed muttered.

“How did he do that?” Will said faintly to the chimeras behind their backs.

Under his breath, Darius replied, “We’ve given up on questioning anything when it comes to those two.”

“So who are your friends?” Ling chirped. “Or have you two finally started your own entourage?”

The chimeras let out a bark of laughter. Heinkel chucked, “Yeah, right! I’m Heinkel, that’s Darius. We were soldiers but now, due to unfortunate circumstances, we’re stuck making sure a couple of insane teenagers don’t get themselves killed morning, noon, and night.”

Will raised his hand. “Um… I’m Will. Becca’s brother.”

“Ah, the dysfunctional family you told me about,” Ling said serenely.

Both Harper siblings stiffened and Becca smiled tightly at Will over her shoulder, who looked unamused. “Who is he?”

“You see, that’s a bit complicated-” Ed started.

Ling cut him off. “I’m a homunculus!”

The sitting room erupted into chaos.

“What?!” Will yelped. He broke away from the group he’d formed in the shadows with Darius and Heinkel, stomping towards Ed and Ling.

“Will,” Becca interjected as she hurried to her feet and got in between her brother and her boyfriend. “Stop it. You have to trust us.”

“He said they wouldn’t come here-”

“Listen, Ling is- he’s not that simple.”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” he said, whipping his head through gritted teeth. “You can’t just blurt that out!”

“Hold on, are- are you serious?” Darius asked.

Heinkel slapped his palm to his forehead. “‘Course he’s serious, why would he lie?”

“It’s a long, long story,” Becca said over everyone’s voices, “that we don’t really have time for. You’re just going to have to trust Ed and me that he’s trustworthy right now.”

The ones who had never met Ling didn’t look particularly thrilled about it, specifically Will, but they mumbled in assent anyways. Will backed off, giving them their space to talk to Ling, which Becca gave him an appreciative smile for before refocusing on the prince.

“What are you doing here anyway?” Ed asked, settling down across from Ling and crisscrossing his legs. Becca folded up her coat as a cushion, then sat down next to him. Almost unconsciously, he reached over and rested a hand on her knee. “No offense, but last time we saw you, it kind of seemed like you would be in Central for a while. Well,” He gestured vaguely up and down, “your body, at least.”

Ling shrugged casually. “Oh, I was there. I never really went away, I was just… in the background. Greed had a bit of a breakdown after he cut ties with Father and the other homunculi, and that’s allowed me to regain control these past few days and- ugh-” He spasmed suddenly, curling up and gripping his temples.“Oh, no.”

“Ling?” Becca said, her voice jumping up an octave with panic. She and Ed had both lurched closer but didn’t dare touch him.

Ed, however, got a little closer as the prince audibly grit his teeth, holding something back. “Hey!” he said. “What’s the matter with you?”

“Greed… he wants to come back,” Ling explained haltingly.

“What?! Well, then, stop it! Don’t let him!” They must have made quite a bizarre sight for their other three companions, especially when Ed reached over and started to violently shake Ling. “Come on now, don’t just give up!”

“Edward, stop it! You’re only gonna make it worse!” Becca yelped, grabbing onto his arm to stop him.

Despite the pain, Ling drew his hands away from his head and gripped their wrists tightly, shutting them up easily. “Dammit, you two, listen to me!” he barked. “Father’s plan- he wants to open the Gate on ‘The Promised Day’! I know I’m not an expert like you two are-” He paused, gasping viscerally in agony, but finished, “But I think you can use the day to get your bodies back!”

“But- but the toll. How would he pay the toll?” Becca pushed.

“What day? When?” Ed asked, getting into Ling’s face and snapping his fingers in front of his nose, trying to keep him focused, then mumbling under his breath, “Come on, come on! Focus, Ling! What’s he trying to do?”

“Argh- ah- he’s coming back,” Ling grunted out, bringing his hands back to cover his face and throwing the ouroboros tattoo into a stark spotlight. Becca had to stop herself from physically recoiling from the sight. “My- my message- did you get- get it to Lan Fan?”

“Yes!” she breathed. “Yeah, Al got it to her. We haven’t been in contact with her, but she was alright when we saw her last.”

“Good, that’s good.” An earnest smile broke out over Ling’s face for just a moment before it contorted again and he collapsed in on himself, gasping for breath and twitching as he scratched at his hairline. “Can’t… hold… he’s… coming… ‘m sorry-”

It was that apology– the fact that he thought he’d needed to apologize after everything he’d sacrificed and the pain he’d put himself through– that cracked against Becca’s heart one too many times. She reached forward, gently taking his hands away from his skin before they drew blood. “It’s alright,” she said quietly. “It’s alright. Thank you for telling us. For holding him off so long.”

Ed took a deep, shuddering breath behind her, then moved closer as well, patting Ling’s shoulder companionably. “We’re glad to know you’re still in there, even if you did manage to eat almost all of our emergency rations. It was good to see you.”

“We’ll see you again,” she promised. “Don’t disappear on us.”

“Ha!” Ling laughed sharply, one more crooked grin flashing across his face. “As if- you could get rid of me that easily!”

“Yes, yes, we haven’t seen the last of you,” Ed said, rolling his eyes fondly. “Now chill out a bit, would you?”

As if on cue, the prince’s body went limp, though it still twitched rather disturbingly as red energy arced along his limbs. Becca could only watch stoically as Greed regained control with a deep groan. Ed scooted back first, then took Becca’s hand and tugged her along too until they had clumped back with the others a safe distance away from the homunculus.

“What does he mean, getting bodies back?” Will whispered.

“Not now,” Becca whispered back as they watched Ling’s body go still.

“Ugh… damn brat,” came the older voice from their first encounter with Greed, still so out of place coming from Ling’s body. “He just had to go and spill everything, huh?”

Over her shoulder, Becca heard someone cock a gun as the homunculus sat up. “Don’t waste your bullets,” she said without looking.

Nobody moved except for Greed, who pushed himself to his feet. “She’s right,” he said, stretching his neck. “You’d need a lot more than that to kill me. Feel free to try, though.”

“Please don’t,” Becca countered. There was another click and the fabric of someone’s coat rustled. Whoever had been about to shoot had returned the gun to its holster.

“Alright, well,” Greed said simply, turning on his heel (Becca saw him stumble minutely, but catch himself before anyone else noticed) and walking down the hall, “thanks for the food. See ya.”

Ed flailed, chasing him a few steps. “Hold on a second! You’re just gonna let us go?”

“Pretty much,” Greed said, waving from behind his back. “You heard the kid, I had a bit of a freak-out, attacked Bradley, and split. I’m doing my own thing and you,” He pointed back at them, “are not my problem.”

There was a lot to unpack in that statement, but more pressing was the fact that he wasn’t an enemy now. He was hardly a friend but maybe, maybe he could be an ally. “Wait!” she blurted out. “What if- what if you stayed here? Teamed up with us?”

“Becca, are you crazy? Didn’t this guy kidnap you?” Will hissed behind her. Which was, all things considered, probably a fair reaction, given the stories of torment from the homunculi she’d relayed to him. And he was probably right.

And yet…

“Did I kidnap you?” Greed mumbled to himself, violet irises darting around at the five of them suspiciously.

“It’s- it’s a little bit more nuanced than that,” Becca defended. “And either way, it’s in the past. In a lot of ways. It doesn’t matter anymore. If you’ve got nowhere else to go, Greed, you might as well come with us.”

Greed raised an eyebrow. “Are you forgetting I’m a homunculus?”

“Eh, we can’t really afford to be picky,” Ed said flippantly, gesturing behind him at Darius, Heinkel, and Will. “The two big ones are chimeras and he’s an attempted murderer, so you’ll fit right in.”

“Would you shut up, runt?” Heinkel said under his breath.

Darius scowled. “Yeah, you can’t just go around telling just anyone that!”

Will didn’t protest Ed’s label on him, but Becca heard him shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. “You two really should stop trying to team up with strangers. One of these days, it’s not going to go very well for you.”

“Oh, you’re serious,” Greed said, a bit taken aback. Then he bit his lip, held back and sinister grin, and let a few dark chuckles slip past. “Heh. That’s rich, but no, thanks.”

“Why not?” Ed said petulantly.

“This whole world belongs to me, and you think I’m gonna give it all up to serve a few upstart kids? Get real!” he said, clapping his hands together, turning away from them once again. “Hell no. Maybe if you guys were working for me, I’d consider it.”

He ducked out the door with a sense of finality, though the door itself was too decrepit to give any sort of satisfying bang! to go along with it, leaving their group silent in the dark.

“Are we really just going to let him go?” Will snapped, stepping out of their huddled, protective group. “What if he was lying to you about everything? He could go back to his allies and lead them all here!”

“Will!” Becca admonished.

“He won’t,” Ed said solemnly. He pulled away as well, not nearly as irritably as Will, just… a little defeated. Becca didn’t like that one bit. “Greed’s a lot of things, but he’s not a liar.”

Will, however, seemed to be reaching a breaking point. “You wanna fill the rest of us in on, you know, literally anything ? Because it seems like us three are basically going in blind to every bat shit situation you drag us into!”

“Will, there’s a lot going on that you don’t understand and we don’t have time to explain all of it-”

“My brother and I fucked around and found out. Where’d you think the automail came from?”

“Ed, stop,” Becca said before either one could say anything else. “We do not have time to fight amongst ourselves right now.”

Ed took a deep breath, face tightening up and then releasing. Only Becca could tell how strained the action really was. “You’re right,” he said measuredly. “If Greed doesn’t want to team up, that’s fine. It would have been nice to have someone that powerful, but if that bearded freak if going to open the Gate, we can’t linger on that. We’ve got to start tracking down some other allies.”

So he said, but still, it felt wrong to abandon the chance to get a homunculus on their side without trying to convince him. Becca chewed on her lip thoughtfully, looking back and forth between Ed and the door Greed had just left through. Greed– at least, the version they’d met in Dublith– had put on the tough guy act, but there had been something genuine between him and his minions, she’d known it. She’d seen it during the time she’d spent in the Devil’s Nest after being abducted. And if this reincarnation was constantly being shouted at and apparently occasionally influenced by Ling-freaking-Yao, the man so loyal that he’d taken on a homunculus because he thought it was the only way to honor his bodyguard’s sacrifice, there was a chance they could get through to him. They just had to find the right button to push.

“What if…” she said vaguely, talking more to herself than anyone, “What if we agreed with him?”

Nobody else spoke. In fact, the others turned to stare incredulously at her. 

Cheeks going pink, Becca frowned. “What?”

“You want us to work for him?” Will clarified, looking doubtful.

Becca shrugged. “No matter who’s working for who we’re all wandering around in the middle of nowhere trying to not starve to death. Does it really matter who’s ‘in charge’?”

Ed was the first to waver. “You’re not wrong about that.”

The chimeras still didn’t seem to be entirely on board and Will looked like he was on the edge of mutiny from the events of the night, but one look from Ed and she knew they were in agreement, and that would be that. She didn’t think they’d disagree enough to split off if she and Ed put their feet down. Watching Will as the anger bubbling under the surface slowly started to give way to fear as he looked back at her, she knew at least one of them wouldn’t.

“I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think it was our best option,” she said, meeting Will’s eyes. He didn’t flinch even as his face contorted into a small scowl, and Becca tried not to back down despite the echo of fear that manifested at the stony expression.

Finally, Will looked away first, muttering, “Fine. Whatever you think is best.”

“About damn time,” Ed said under his breath.

Becca elbowed him in the ribs. “Thank you. Come on, let’s go catch up to him.” As one, they moved for the exit, and then Becca stopped them, surveying their group. Ed and Will, both still steaming with frustration, and Darius and Heinkel, sharing more unsure glances between them. “And maybe let me do most of the talking.”

When they tracked the homunculus down, he was on top of a hill, silhouetted against the moon, seemingly lost in thought. He didn’t notice them approaching until Becca called out to him.

“Hey!”

Greed jumped, then tried to cover it up, sticking his hands in the pockets of his elegant-looking, black coat and pivoting on one foot. “Ugh, you again,” he said once they were close enough to hear him at a regular volume. Knowing what she already knew about him, Becca wondered if he thought shouting was pedestrian. “What do you want now?”

“You win,” she said flatly, crossing her arms at the head of their group. She’d stopped a few feet away, a safe distance away, with the others behind her and Ed’s hand resting on her back as silent support. “We’ll work for you.”

“I already-” Greed halted, his mouth dropping open seemingly of its own accord. “Huh?”

“You’ve got three state alchemists at your service, if you’re willing to take us on,” she offered as earnestly as she could. Greed recovered, raising his chin challengingly, and Becca tried to do the same and resist the urge to hunch in on herself under his scrutiny. “Ed, my brother, and me. Plus our companions.”

They had talked it over as they searched for Greed. Honestly, Ed had done most of the talking for that. The chimeras tended to appreciate his more direct way of speaking, even if they loathed to admit it. He’d stern-talked the idea that all of them, including the chimeras, including Greed , were better off sticking together into them, and that it would be most effective to present a united front when confronting Greed himself.

Greed cocked an eyebrow at Heinkel and Darius. “I know Fullmetal and Illusion are thick as thieves even if you switched spokesperson-”

“Oh, please,” Ed interrupted until Becca stepped on his foot.

“-But that does that mean you three are sticking around then? I don’t want disciples who are going to jump ship at the first sign of trouble,” Greed said over him.

“Fullmetal’s very persistent,” Darius said.

Ed hummed a little in pride.

“And we already gave up our pride when we started working for the military,” Heinkel continued. Becca didn’t have to look at him to imagine the devil-may-care attitude in his mannerisms. “Doesn’t really matter who’s bossing us around at this point.”

“And you?” Greed pressed, turning his critical eyes on Will.

Becca heard her brother shift uncomfortably in the snow, but didn’t turn to look at him. She couldn’t show doubt. She had to trust that Will wouldn’t break– and she did. “I trust my sister,” he said. “If she says its worth letting you be in charge, I’ll go along with it.”

“We can’t afford to let our emotions get in the way of us from taking this opportunity,” Becca said, pulling his attention back to her. “Having you on our side is a once in a lifetime chance.”

Greed stepped closer to her, their noses nearly touching and his eyes boring into hers. She narrowed her eyes, and she set her jaw as Ed’s hand closed around her coat, gripping tightly and ready to pull her back if things got dicey, but there was no need. Apparently, Greed found whatever he was looking for and burst into a sharp-toothed grin. “You’re on, but you better not regret it! Working for me means you’re going to be a bunch of outcasts, and I don’t want to hear any complaints, got it?”

“We’ve got enough regrets already,” Ed retorted coldly. At last, Becca allowed herself to turn and observe the rest of the group just in time to catch Ed’s stubborn smirk at Greed. He stepped forward, pressing his chest against Becca’s back and wrapping an arm over her shoulder. She unfolded her arms and took his hand. “There, you have our word. You wanna give us some space now?”

Chuckling, he did just that, moving to speak with the others. Becca heard him asking them the obligatory questions– what were the chimeras fused with, how Will went from criminal to alchemist in the course of a week, the works. Once he was out of the way, though, Ed guided Becca even further away, thumb rubbing small circles into the back of her hand.

“I can’t believe we got him to believe us,” Becca sighed. Her head dropped backwards, resting on Ed’s shoulder.

“You didn’t back down from him,” he said, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “That probably helped.”

“Mm,” she responded with a small smile. She raised the hand she was holding and kissed the back of his glove, then let go and moved away before Will noticed and started making faces at them. She stuck her hands in her pockets at the loss of human warmth and subsequently pulled them right back out after something sharp stuck her. “Ouch! What the hell-”

She felt around until she’d gripped whatever poked her and pulled it out. Sitting in the palm of her glove was a few of Winry’s many earrings and the mood between her and Ed immediately dipped at the reminder of what they’d missed out on. If Winry and Al had ever been here, they were gone now. They’d have to think about where to go next, now with the added step of convincing Greed that it would be beneficial to go there. Becca’s head was starting to hurt thinking about it. From Ed’s pained expression, she could tell he was thinking the same thing until he closed her fist back around the earrings and pushed her hand back toward her pocket.

“We’ll see them again soon,” she said, tucking them back away.

“Not soon enough,” Ed replied. “Where should we go now?”

“Keep heading south, I guess? Where’s the next place Al might go?”

Ed pondered that for a few moments, worrying his lip. Becca resisted the urge to lean in and kiss him again., then remembered she didn’t have to resist, and she did just that. She felt him smile and, by the time they pulled apart again, he didn’t look quite as downtrodden.

“Resembool,” he said decisively. “We should head towards Resembool.”

Luckily, Greed wasn’t all that hard to convince. Despite his insistence on being “in charge”, he’d just been wandering aimlessly since his split from his siblings and father and was therefore pretty up for any set mission as long as they told him it would help him gain more notoriety. Heinkel and Darius insisted that they bunker down in the safehouse for the night and utilize the proper shelter, putting their feet down for once, so they trooped back into the house and began to settle down. They didn’t exactly have proper blankets and pillows, but with a small fire started in the middle of the sitting room, they wouldn’t freeze without their coats, so Becca and Ed claimed a corner and started laying down their makeshift bedding on the decrepit wooden floor.

“You two do realize we’re not quashed in the back seat of a car anymore, right?” Will said pointedly. “We can spread out.”

Becca rolled her eyes, shooting him an unimpressed look, while Ed glared venomously at him. “Mind your own business,” he responded.

Leering, Greed whistled at them and Will raised his hands in surrender. “Whatever. Just go to sleep.”

“Gladly,” Becca said, sliding down the wall until she was sitting on her thick winter coat. As soon as she was off her feet, a wave of exhaustion swept over her and she wrapped her arms around herself, then rolled over, eyes falling shut almost immediately. She barely managed to stumble through a, “Goodnight.”

And although she was dead to the world, she did feel Ed’s hand run through her hair before she inevitably dozed off to sleep.

Chapter 55: anagapesis

Notes:

...hey my dears...

(ignore my ass showing up like a month and a half late with starbucks over here)

greetings! 8.3k words!!! and i made it through finals hell week so now i have free time!!!

ugh finals were such a shit show i was not inspired smh. but its over now so hopefully i should have more time to get ahead on this, esp since we're getting back into canon territory (not to say i didn't enjoy this little jaunt into non-canon. i'd say its quite obvious that i enjoyed it quite a lot, actually)

n e ways i watched the first part of harry and meghan's documentary today while i was finishing this. y'all see that bullshit? insane

anagapesis (noun)- no longer feeling any affection for someone you once loved

Chapter Text

“You’re sure it can’t make it just a bit further? Just to the next town?” Becca said, leaning on the console between the two front seats of the car to examine the map by the light of a flashlight. “I really don’t think this is the best place to stop-”

The car sputtered, shook, and, eventually, stopped, no matter how much she silently begged it not too.

“Doesn’t really seem like we have a choice,” Will said stonily from where he was pressed awkwardly against the window. Anyone else might think he was– for lack of a better word– pouting, but Becca could see the tightness in his shoulders and jaw, the way his gaze darted about through the window, taking in the barely-there glow of the sleeping town. He was unspeakably, nauseatingly anxious.

Peering through the windshield herself at the shadows of Adethal, Becca couldn’t really blame him.

Greedling (as Ed had taken to calling him), on the other hand, could. And did, if his sour expression was anything to go off of. The addition of another person to the group had been a good decision, they all knew it, but when the four smallest members, also known as anything who wasn’t literally genetically engineered to be massive, had to squish into the back seat, it was easy to doubt. “I don’t know what’s wrong with you two, but I’m not walking to Resembool so we’ve got to at least stop and jack a new car.” He shifted around again, accidentally-on-purpose elbowing Becca in the side as he tried to shove is way into the conversation. She let out a small “oof” as she tumbled sideways into Ed, still dozing against the window, who snuffled, but didn’t wake. Greedling went out, “Preferably a bigger one this time.”

“I don’t-” Will started, then let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t think we’ll need to jack anything. Did Dad ever get around to selling his Sanctuary?”

“Oh, God, you’re right,” Becca groaned. Their father’s car that was older than either of his children and had been confined to the garage after he’d been given a military vehicle post-Ishval, but, as far as she could remember, he’d been too preoccupied to bother actually getting rid of it. It was still at the house, and if they could get to it, the old thing should at least be able to get them to the next town before breaking down.

It wasn’t exactly preferable, but, Becca evaluated, it was probably their best option. She shared a look with Will, pale faced and trembling nearly imperceptibly. She couldn’t imagine she looked much better. Still, he took another deep breath and repeated Becca’s first thought: “It kind of sounds like the obvious choice.”

“Indeed it does,” she echoed, sitting back in her seat.

“And this car is still not going anywhere,” Darius said under his breath.

“Fine. Better than walking all the way there, I suppose,” Greedling said. He clapped his hands once, rousing Ed again, more permanently this time. “Up and at ‘em, Fullmetal! Let’s get moving!”

“‘M gonna kill you one day,” Ed said as he sat up, rubbing at his eyes. “I mean it.”

It had been decided to push the car into a nearby wooded area so that the military would at least have to try to figure out where they’d gone, and then they set off towards Adethal. It wasn’t until they’d arrived at the house that Becca remembered where exactly the car had been left to so many years ago.

The damn shed.

Becca stopped on the back edge of the property line. The back door was right there, right within reach, but she couldn’t make herself open it. She didn’t know why she was so averse to it, but she hadn’t set foot in the old shed since she’d cleaned up after the accident. Well, perhaps the better descriptor would be since she destroyed all the evidence pertaining to it. Either way, she’d erased any trace of the transmutation and then, for good measure, she’d locked the door. At the time, she’d intended it to be forever, but still, there was nothing to be afraid of anymore hiding behind that door.

And yet-

“I- um-” Becca said, pulling her hand back to her chest. She swallowed. “Maybe we should split up. Will, you can get the car ready with Heinkel and Darius and I’ll take Ed and Greed to see if we can get some food or something from the house while we’re here.”

“You sure that’s a good idea?” Will asked, frowning. “Splitting up?”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for all of us to go in the house. My mom’s still here and I would rather not wake her,” Becca explained, which was technically the truth. Just not the whole truth. “The key should be hanging next to the door, but if it’s not, it has to be around. I haven’t touched it in years.”

Luckily, Will accepted that and nodded, though he still looked a bit unsure. “If you say so.”

She stepped away to allow Will closer to the door, taking Ed’s hand as she passed him, and started towards the main house instead with a deep, shuddery breath. He seemed to pick up on her discomfort and squeezed reassuringly. “You okay?” he said low enough that Greed, trailing behind them with his hands in his pockets, couldn’t hear. She hummed in lieu of a real answer and he squeezed again, but said nothing else until they reached the back entrance and she hesitated once more.

“We don’t have to go in,” he said softly. “We have enough rations.”

“No,” Becca argued, shaking her head as she finally grabbed the key hidden under a nearby rock and inserted it into the lock. “It would be stupid to waste this chance. I can do it.”

The lock clicked, a louder sound than Becca had remembered that cut through the silence of the night and almost made her jump, though part of that might have just been the general twitchiness that the property was bringing back to her.

Regardless, she pushed the door open, giving it a bit harder of a nudge than she thought she’d need to with her shoulder, then stepped inside. Becca quickly realized that all the curtains had been drawn shut as moonlight flooded the kitchen through the open door, just barely illuminating outline of the doorway in the silent space. She debated for a moment on if turning the lights on would wake her mother up, then checked her watch, prayed she was already asleep, and flicked on the lamp closest to the door.

“Don’t linger,” she whispered. “And stay quiet. I’m going to try and find some extra blankets.”

For once, Greed didn’t argue about taking orders from someone else. He and Ed spread out, rustling through the shelves of food as Becca shuffled towards the hallway for a closet she knew at least used to have the blankets Louisa kept for particularly cold winter nights.

Being inside the house was disorienting to say the least, and grew only moreso with each step Becca took further into its depths. Apparently she’d grown slightly in the years– God, it had been two years, hadn’t it?– since she’d been here last. From what she remembered, it couldn’t have been too much, just an inch or two, but it was enough that everything felt slightly off. Slightly too small, slightly too suffocating. The long-crooked picture in the broken frame, Will on the back of tailgate of a military truck from before Becca was born, that Louisa had perched on a shelf that she could never quite reach to adjust its position after it had gotten jostled out of place was now fixable when she went up on her tiptoes to instinctively do exactly that.

Even more concerning, though, was the almost museum-like atmosphere. Everything was the same as she remembered; exactly the same. Surreally the same, like she was having a dream, wandering through her old home on the day she abandoned it. Or maybe having a nightmare. The spare coats in the hall closet hadn’t moved. Her father’s old boots by the back door hadn’t moved. She thought about it and realized that the dishes left in the drying rack were the same ones Ed and Al had washed from when she’d cooked soup the last time she was here. As if in a trance, she closed the closet door and kept walking, and found herself desperately shoving past the door to the sitting room open.

Her eyes flew desperately over the old couch, the piano and bench tucked underneath, the messy bookshelves. Her breathing, which she hadn’t even noticed had ramped up into panicked gasps, settled back down. That blanket, she’d always folded it after every use without fail. And the tea set on the dining table, she hadn’t left that there. It wasn’t much, but they were signs of life at least. She managed to calm herself down a little. Maybe it made sense that the kitchen was untouched. Well, not for a normal person who’d been living alone, but her mother had never exactly used it and, since Becca had asked Victor to look after her, maybe she’d never needed to.

She crossed the room and brushed her hand over the velvet of the chair by the fireplace, then coughed when a cloud of dust followed her hand. Her brow furrowed. She didn’t expect Victor to be entirely focused on looking after her house when he had his own to take care of, but… that was a lot of dust.

Before she could ponder it any further, though, her ears pricked up and she froze. She could have sworn she heard a footstep in the fallen leaves out front-

There was another crunch, then the click of a key being inserted into the lock. That was only a little reassuring, since an armed robber was barely a step down from her mother, likely returning from a bar. Before she could stop herself, her hand had flown up to tug anxiously at her hair as she stumbled backwards, back down the hallway towards the kitchen as the door creaked opn.

Stupid , she was so stupid , she should have known her mother would be out. If she hadn’t lingered, they could have been out of here before she even got home, and now she’d probably be drunk and even more irritable than usual and-

“Bex?” Ed asked when she fumbled back through the door. His hands were gripping her shoulders in an instant, shaking her ever so slightly until she met his intense gaze. “What’s wrong?”

“We need to go,” she whispered, grabbing his hand herself and starting to pull. “We need to leave. Right now.”

Thank God, he agreed immediately, dropping his voice at once. “Okay. Okay, let’s go. Greedling, let’s go.”

“What? Why?” Greedling said.

Much louder.

The sounds of someone moving slowly through the house came to an abrupt halt. Becca pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes. There was no way they’d get out of Adethal in secret, not if her mother knew someone had been there. But maybe if they were lucky and she was drunk enough and they could convince her that no one had been there at all, she’d just peer this way and move on up to bed.

“Hide,” she ordered, pivoting. No time to leave without setting off alarm bells, but if they could just shelter in another room and turn off the light, Becca knew that was their best option. “Move, go! In there!”

For once, Greedling didn’t argue and began to shuffle towards the pantry, but behind them, the kitchen door creaked open. Becca’s heart dropped. She’d miscalculated. How the hell had her no doubt inebriated mother moved so fast that she’d missed it by so much-

“Becca? Is that you?”

Her shoulders, which she hadn’t realized had crept up to her ears, slowly dropped as her eyes readjusted to the darkness. “...Victor?”

“Holy shit!” Victor cried out, dropping the baseball bat he was holding over his shoulder. All at once, he’d opened his arms and swept Becca up in them, laughing, which Becca couldn’t help but echo once she’d had to chance to regain her bearings. “You’re back!”

“I’m back!” she repeated joyously. He shook her once more, one too many time, and she patted his arms in faux annoyance. “Alright, alright, put me down. What are you doing here?”

“I saw your shadows coming in the back and, well,” He gestured to the forgotten bat on the kitchen floor, sheepishly muttering, “thought you might have been intruders.”

“And you were going to take on three intruders with a baseball bat? In your pajamas?” she asked, her lips quirking up into a smile.

Victor went a little pink, mumbling, “I figured you were just dumb teenagers.” He peered over her shoulder into the pantry, raising his eyebrows at Ed and Greedling. Becca followed his line of sight, only to see the two still crouched behind her, neither moving a muscle. Victor let out a huffed chuckle. “I mean, was I wrong?”

Both sprang to their feet at once, chattering protests and arguments before Becca cut them off. “Is my mother still out?” she asked, changing the subject. Though she wasn’t really asking– her mother must be out if they hadn’t managed to wake her yet. Even a drunken stupor couldn’t have blocked out the shrieks of joy she’d only barely deny letting out a few moments earlier. Victor’s face, on the other hand, dropped. Becca faltered. “What- what’s wrong?”

“Becca, um,” he started awkwardly, then swallowed and continued, “Your mom’s not here. She- she’s gone.”

She blinked. “Huh?”

“I- I didn’t know how to reach you to let you know, but she left a few weeks ago. With some… Aerugian man, I think.” Gently, Victor’s hands came up to guide her onto one of the stools by the counter. Without realizing it, she’d stumbled back a few steps. “Becca?”

Gone? She was- What did that even mean, gone? Gone, forever? Gone, vacation? Gone, until this fling ended? She was about to open her mouth to ask Victor for further clarification, but he wouldn’t know, would he?

“Bex?” Ed said. He’d appeared behind her and his hands replaced Victor’s rubbing up and down her upper arms. “You okay?”

Was she… okay?

She didn’t know. Well, she knew some things. She knew it wasn’t really worth asking for clarification. She knew her mother had nothing tying her here anymore and no future prospects in Adethal– maybe even in Amestris. She knew what Victor meant when he said “gone”. She knew she should feel heartbroken, the last parent she had just… exiting her life so abruptly, seemingly without so much as a thought for the daughter she was leaving, as far as she knew, alone in the world. She hadn’t even left a note. And yet, once the shock wore off, she didn’t really find herself feeling much of anything. No anger, no sadness, no disappointment. Hell, she couldn’t even honestly say she was surprised. The only surprising thing was just how much she meant it when she said, “I- I’m okay.”

“Really?” Victor frowned disbelievingly and Ed’s grip on her tightened, at least until she ran a hand soothingly over his knuckles. She squeezed once and wordlessly coaxed him to let go, instead bringing their joined hands down closer to her chest.

“I mean, I’m not, like, happy about it,” she said,. “But I think I kind of saw it coming. I didn’t really plan on seeing her again after I left.” She shrugged, fiddling with their entwined fingers. “I already said everything I needed to say to her. It wasn’t exactly goodbye, but… well, she didn’t really deserve one anyway.”

She felt Ed press a kiss to the crown of her head. “Good for you.”

“Alright, enough with the gooiness,” Greedling interrupted, finally stepping out of the pantry. “There’s no food here. Harper, that was the whole reason we even bothered breaking in.”

“I don’t think it counts as breaking in when it’s my name on the property deed,” Becca said as she slid off the stool. “But there has to be something around here-”

Victor raised his hand, looking a little guilty. “Um, actually, I took everything when I realized she left. I didn’t want it all going bad. I could run over to mine and whip something up real quick? Are you all in a hurry?”

Becca shared a glance with Ed and Greedling. “Are we?”

“This is a nicer safehouse than the last one,” Ed observed. “As long as you’re okay with it.”

She sighed fondly. “I’m fine, Ed.”

“The important question is if I, the leader , am okay with it,” Greedling interrupted, crossing his arms.

Ed and Becca rolled their eyes in unison and she asked, “Are you?”

He hummed thoughtfully, taking in the kitchen in the light of the lamps, then assented, “Yeah, that’s fine. We can hang out for a few days.”

“Thank God,” Ed mumbled under his breath.

Victor gave all of them a weird look and Becca could only imagine the questions she’d have to field once they had the chance to talk alone. “Right, I- I’ll just be right back then.” He made a hasty exit, letting the door slam shut behind him, and it was only when Becca realized he’d gone out the back that she remembered she hadn’t even mentioned Will yet.

“We should probably get the others and fill them in,” she said rather than ponder how long of a night this was shaping up to become.

“So turns out not driving a car and leaving it in a leaky shed for years on end doesn’t leave it in the best shape,” Will said as he stepped over the threshold for the first time in years. If Becca hadn’t been anticipating it, she might have missed the millisecond of hesitation. “We’re going to need a few days to fix it up.”

“That’s fine,” Greedling said, waving his hand flippantly. “I’ve already decided we can stay here.”

Nobody acknowledged him with anything more than an agreeable hum and Will started rifling through the empty cabinets. Becca spoke up and stopped him before he got too far. “We’ve already established nothing is here, but-”

There was a loud clatter from the door. Six heads whipped towards the sound, but only Will’s blanched at the sight. Victor let out a small sob and they met in the middle, the open cabinet door and the tray of sandwiches that Victor had been holding both forgotten. The two men embraced, tightly, like they needed proof the other was really there, and Victor buried his face in Will’s shoulder, shaking. Will paused, then visibly melted into him. Once Becca had recovered from the shock of his reentrance, she managed a small smile at them, one that Will returned over Victor’s shoulder.

“Well, I’ve made a bit of a mess,” Victor said, laughing a little and wiping furiously at his eyes. “Sorry. I’ll- I’ll go remake it. And perhaps some tea, but that might take a little longer-”

“I’ll help,” Will said quickly. Victor turned to gaze at him again, still a little dumbfounded at the sight, and Will beamed back, grabbing his hand. “We’ll be back!”

Before anyone could stop them, they’d run back out into the yard towards Victor’s, giggling like teenagers while Becca mimed gagging once they’d gone, making Ed laugh. “I don’t really think they’ll be back tonight. Unless you guys are starving, it might be best to just get you all set up. There’s plenty of bedrooms upstairs, with plenty of beds.” Everyone perked up. They’d eaten the last of their rations on the walk to town, so they’d all make it to morning. The more pressing issue was sleep. Becca smirked. “Follow me.”

She’d called over to Victor’s house and a very out-of-breath Will confirmed that he would indeed be staying there, Greedling, unsurprisingly, demanded the master, flopping onto her parents’ large bed with more gravitas than anyone probably had before, and Heinkel and Darius were settled in what used to be Becca and Will’s bedroom. It was weird, stepping inside, but after learning that the entire house had been abandoned, it wasn’t nearly as bad as downstairs. At least she’d anticipated this room being untouched. She made a note to sort through her clothes and see if there were any worth taking along, but not tonight.

The last bedroom, though…

Again, Becca found herself pausing with her hand on the doorknob. Every nerve in her body was screaming at her not to go into Louisa’s bedroom, and yet it felt wrong to give it to anyone else. Logically, she knew that she wouldn’t open the door and find Louisa lying in bed like she had on that terrible morning, but…

Ed’s hand came up, resting on the small of her back, and she leaned over onto his shoulder, then pushed the door open. Her heart clenched, then slowly released as she stepped inside the empty bedroom.

Untouched.

Just like everything else.

Oh, God, why had her feet gotten so heavy all of a sudden?

“You wanna get some sleep?” Ed asked softly. He waited until she nodded mutely, then helped her sit down on the bed and urged her to kick off her boots. Once she’d sat down, she didn’t think she could have gotten back up if her life depended on it. Ed chuckled as he gently scooted her over and joined her on the bed. He might have said something else as she shrugged off her coat and the jacket underneath, but if he did, Becca didn’t hear it as she didn’t even bother getting under the covers, just flopping down onto the pillows. Luckily, Ed didn’t seem to mind, flicking the lamp next to him off before she felt him lay down on the other side. Instinctively, she managed to turn over so she was pressed into his side and then, when he’d wrapped an arm around her shoulders, she drifted off to sleep.

Okay, so it turned out she couldn’t do this.

Going off the clock illuminated in the moonlight, she’d slept for a little over an hour and had proceeded to lay awake, staring at the ceiling without seeing it, for another two after the nightmare. She’d tried everything to soothe herself– trying to align her breathing with Ed’s steady inhales and exhales next to her, sneaking into her old room for more comfortable clothes, letting her hair down in case that would help her feel more relaxed, then putting it back up when she caught sight of herself in the mirror– to no avail. Every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was Louisa, Louisa’s body, Louisa , and the room was only making things worse. Her skin crawled more and more with each passing moment.

She had to get out.

She squirmed out of bed, alighting silently to her feet, then wrapped a stray blanket around herself and shuffled out of the room, careful to avoid waking Ed as she went.

It felt like she was a child again, sneaking down the hallway in socked feet, although she’d never dared to venture downstairs back then the way she planned to tonight. Padding down the stairs, one foot in front of the other until she reached the living room, Becca found her way onto the first plush surface she saw– she would only realize later that it had turned out to be her father’s old, preferred armchair– and dozed back off into restless sleep.

Even with the move, Becca woke up earlier than the rest of the house. She folded her blanket atop the couch, then floated mindlessly over to the bookshelf in the corner, skimming her hand over the spines. There were no alchemy books here. One of Louisa’s hard limits was that alchemy tomes were to be used for studying and subsequently returned to the office. Becca had always thought she worried about them messing up the house unsupervised, though maybe- maybe she’d been more worried about losing her children to the science the same way she’d lost her husband.

No, this shelf was reserved for the gardening books, or Louisa’s treasured almanac, or the few photo albums she’d managed to put together over the years.

Her finger caught on a thick leather book somewhere near the middle of the shelf. More precisely, it caught on the red ribbon, stuck out the top and draped down the side. A bookmark. Embossed underneath it was the label 1902 .

Becca smiled ruefully, sliding the photo album out of its spot and flipping to the marked page, sandwiching a collection of four photos of their kitchen table. There were stacks and stacks of loose paper, of chalk, of a few alchemy textbooks she knew still resided upstairs. Will was bent over the table, looking very solemn for twelve but for the tongue poking out the corner of his mouth as he copied a transmutation circle from the one of the books he’d propped open. In the next seat, Becca, all of 18 months, stood on her chair, leaned over as well with an orange crayon gripped in her pudgy fist. Neither of the children frozen in time seemed to be aware of Louisa and her camera until the last one in the collection where they’d obviously been told to hold up their papers and smile. Will’s hand had come up to grab Becca’s shoulder as she’d stood up straight on her chair, making sure she didn’t fall.

She remembered the last time Louisa had showed her these photos; Becca had squished herself up against her on the couch shortly after Will had left. Back when it was still plausible that he’d be coming back. Louisa had scooped her up and giggled He’s got this in the bag, honey. Look at this, you two have it in your blood.

A long, shuddering breath made its way out of her chest and she shut the book firmly. She could only look at it for so long before it became too much and she had to slide it back into its spot. Maybe she’d be able to flip through the whole album another day.

Instead, she drifted into the foyer, towards the portrait. The portrait Will had based his tiny statuettes on so many years ago, the portrait with all five of them. Her father stood in the back with Louisa sat delicately in front of them with the children on the floor. Becca’s own mother sat in a plush chair. In her humble opinion, the artist had captured her constant preening expertly. She remembered when this painting had been delivered in a simple burnished wood frame, mostly because her mother had thrown a fit about it and her father had immediately sent out an order for one made of gilded gold to appease her. Becca had kept up with dusting it on her insistence.

Without her careful care, the frame had fallen into disrepair. As Becca ran her hand over it, the gold flaked off, revealing the same wooden from all those years ago. She scoffed. Yeah, that tracked. “All an illusion,” she muttered to herself, looking up at the depiction of her father, a faraway look in his gray eyes. “Just like everything else.”

“Don’t tell me you’ve started talking to paintings.”

Becca jumped, her heart still stuttering in residual fear at Will’s voice. She tried to recover quickly as she turned to face him, pretending her voice didn’t shake slightly as she replied, “Not yet. Just thinking aloud.” She cast an appraising look over him, raising an eyebrow at his incredibly ruffled hair. “Nice night?”

“You really want the answer to that?”

That was fair, she decided, making a face. “Never mind.”

“But yes, since you asked,” he remarked, resting his hand on her shoulder and taking his own look at the painting.

“Ugh. Gross.”

The siblings stood in silence for a moment, one looking up, one looking down at her hand. Becca hummed and, when her brother turned to her, she held out her palm full of the gold flecks. “Did you know this wasn’t real?”

“You didn’t?” he said incredulously, raising his eyebrow.

“I never messed with it! All I did was clean it!”

“I knew since we got it. Dad made me help put it up, so I knew it was way lighter than it should have been.” He took a few bits and rubbed them between his fingertips. “The gold is real, it’s just not full gold like your mom thought.”

“Huh.”

Silence fell between them again until Will cleared his throat. “I used to want to set this damn thing on fire. I always thought I could make it look like an accident if I pretended I didn’t know about the wood frame.”

“Oh, God, please don’t confess to criminal arson.”

Will swatted her arm, though his expression melted into something painfully soft. “No,” he said in a low voice. “But I realized that this is one of the only pictures my mom is in, so I- I wanted to keep it around.”

Becca sobered up at that, remembering the photo album she’d just been looking at. Sure enough, unless she was misremembering, Louisa had taken every single one. She was always behind the camera. She swallowed thickly, gazing up at the painting with a new sort of adoration. “Huh. I guess you’re right.”

“Speaking of my mom,” Will said hesitantly, then stopped. Becca turned to him, a movement he did not echo, but she noticed his gaze flick toward her out of the corner of his eyes.

However, he didn’t go on until she gently prompted, “Yeah?”

“Could you… tell me where she’s buried? I just- I never got to say goodbye, and I don’t know when we’ll be back here-”

“Of course!” Becca interrupted, wide-eyed. Had he thought she wouldn’t let him visit the grave? God, how had she not already told him? 

He blinked at her and her heart broke once more. He had to have thought exactly that. “But- but I-”

“You don’t have to grovel to see your own mother,” she said. “You know that, right? Even if I didn’t already know you were sorry, which I do, by the way, you- you’d be able to visit her no matter what?”

“I- I didn’t want to assume. You buried her alone, so-”

“I promised her that you would come,” Becca said softly, reaching for his hand and tugging him towards the back door. “She’ll be so happy that you finally made it home.”

It had been different, Becca remembered, realizing Louisa was dead and actually seeing her name on the headstone. She’d had panic attacks before the funeral and a heavy heart during, but she’d hadn’t actually cried from when to found the body until she was alone, truly alone, staring at the headstone. The same, slightly more worn, headstone that she and Will both stood solemnly in front of, wrapped in their coats.

 

Louisa Harper

March 29, 1864-December 5th, 1911

Always loving, always loved

 

Will had faltered climbing the hill, and Becca had linked their arms together, offering her support as the grave came into view. She didn’t say anything, though. She knew all too well the feeling of shock that was finally, finally settling into proper grief.

For a few minutes, they stood wordlessly side-by-side. Too caught up in her own thought, Becca didn’t even realize Will had begun to cry until he started shaking in her grip. He was biting his lip, fighting valiantly to keep the reverent silence, but when she noticed and wrapped her arms around him, he gave in. Burying his head in her shoulder, he let out a few choked sobs, between which he tried to speak. “I-” he said with heaving breath, “I- I left her- I missed-”

“It’s okay,” she whispered.

“No- no!” he hiccupped, pulling away. “No, it’s not! I missed her sickness, I missed her funeral, I- I missed everything!” He got quieter, talking more to himself. “How can I ever forgive myself?”

“She knew you’d come eventually,” Becca murmured, squeezing his shoulder, remembering how Louisa had clutched the letter he’d left for them so tightly the day she’d died. Becca thought she’d known what was coming, and she hoped she’d been able to make her piece with it.  “She’d be so happy that you came back to us. She wouldn’t want you to dwell on this.”

He laughed wetly. “She always gave bad people way more leeway than they deserved.”

“Don’t say that,” she said; there wasn’t much else she could say. This pain he was feeling– she’d felt similar for years after her and her father’s incident, before she’d accepted that it wasn’t all her fault and that– forgiving herself– had been the hardest part. She could tell him that Louisa hadn’t held anything against him when she’d passed until she was blue in the face and, hell, he might even agree, but it would take more time for him to do the same.

She didn’t know how long they stood there, not speaking, just… in thought. Becca probably could have walked away and Will would have let her go, but she was content to remain at his side and watch the sun rise higher in the sky behind the headstone until he cleared his throat and said, “Suppose we should head back?”

“If you want,” she replied, politely ignoring the sob-roughened grate of his voice.

By the they return to the back door, Greedling had made his way down to the main floor and is lounging atop the kitchen counter. He perked up at their arrival, then deflated. “I don’t know why I’d convinced myself that you two went to do something useful like get food.”

“Oh, yes, let the two people who would get recognized the moment they stepped out the front door go to town for our group of wanted vigilantes,” Becca fired back while Will let out a sharp bark of laughter and offered to rouse Victor and raid his pantry. He did exactly that while the rest of their party appeared one by one, still blinking the sleep out of his eyes, in Ed’s case. Becca had rummaged through the cabinets and been pleased to find one of her containers of peppermint tea alongside an even older jar of coffee beans and was in the process of putting on a kettle as he stumbled in.

Her heart fluttered without her permission when he slid over to her, seemingly automatically pressing a kiss to her temple with a sleepy, “Morning.” He moved a few feet away, starting on grinding up the coffee beans. “Up early?”

“Mm, something like that,” she hummed, her mood souring slightly at the prospect of having to explain why she didn’t think she could spend another night in that room. She shifted slightly to set out the collection of mugs, then frowned and pivoted around with an armful of the things to rinse the dust off them. She froze at the expressions of Greedling, Darius, and Heinkel, all various faces of exasperation. “What?”

“You two are disgusting,” Darius remarked, shaking his head. Becca went pink.

“I pity your poor brother if he had to put up with that for two years,” Heinkel remarked. “The kid’s probably enjoying a well-deserved break.”

“Shut up,” Ed said, a matching flush on his cheeks, “Or I’ll spit in your coffee.”

“What is taking Will so long?” Becca changed the subject. “I’ll call over and tell them to hurry up. Can you finish this?” she asked Ed. “You don’t have to do mine.”

“I can make a cup of tea,” he said, one side of his mouth quirking up. “You just have an unreasonably picky sense of taste.”

She smirked a little as well, tossing a, “Questionable,” over her shoulder as she went, rounding the corner to the living room and dialing Victor’s familiar number.

“Hello?” he said, obviously trying to hide how he was puffing for breath.

Becca rolled her eyes. “Will you two stop making out and bring breakfast over?”

“Um-” Will’s voice said something on the other end, then Victor’s laugh. “He said not to bother us, but I’ll take care of it. Give us a few minutes.”

“Tell him I’ll come over myself if you’re not back here in ten.”

Victor repeated the message and she heard Will loudly argue, “Don’t you dare, Becca-” before she hung up, smiling to herself as she absentmindedly folded the blanket she’d dragged down the night before.

The door opened again while she was fluffing the pillow and she turned to see Ed shuffling into the room, a mug in each hand, and closing the door with his foot before offering one to her. She accepted, taking a sip, savoring it. Ah… She’d missed her peppermint tea since they’d started on the road. When she’d swallowed, she teased, “Closer.” It was Ed’s turn to roll his eyes fondly at her and she giggled, earnestly remarking. “You really didn’t have to do this. I was on my way back in.”

“I wanted to talk alone,” he justified, moving a little further into her space so the steam from both of their drinks was practically intertwining. The tiniest furrow took residence in Becca’s brow, which he reached up and smoothed away. “It’s not bad. But you wanna tell me why you couldn’t sleep last night?”

He wouldn’t make her talk about it and she knew he’d even move elsewhere in the house without question if that was what she said she wanted, but…

The answer spilled out before she could stop it. “Louisa slept there. She- um- I found her there. I thought I could do it-”

Ed’s face had fallen. “Oh, God, Bex.”

“This house, it- it’s not my home anymore. All it has for me are ghosts and bad memories, and… maybe in the future, it’ll be something more again, but-”

“Hey, you don’t have to explain,” he said quickly. “I get it. I mean, I can’t imagine trying to sleep in my mom’s bed after- God, Becca,” he repeated, “do you want to kick Heinkel and Darius out of your old room? I’m sure they’d go with it-”

“No, no, that’s not necessary. I’m sure once I’m not all wound up, I’ll be able to make due on the couch,” she assured. “I mean, it won’t be the most comfortable sleep of my life, but honestly, I don’t really know if I could comfortably sleep anywhere here. I’ll just deal with it until everyone’s ready to move on.”

“Are you sure?”

She brought a hand to his cheek, stroking gently with her thumb. “I’ll be okay, promise. It’s very sweet that you’re so concerned, though, thank you.”

He smiled a little at that, kissing the corner of her mouth. “If you say so,” he said against her lips, and all of a sudden, it was like a window had opened. She could practically see it, she and Ed allowed to just be after all this was over. No more running, no more hiding, no more military missions. Just a young couple in their own space– not this place, but a place all their own, untainted by their pasts and wholly a representation of their future. Maybe an apartment in Central. They’d be retired, which was an odd thing to think about when the version of themselves that she saw would be in their mid-20s at the latest, but it was true. Ed would be freelancing with his alchemy, helping those who couldn’t help themselves with the art he loved, and Becca… she didn’t know what she’d be doing. University? She’d never been to real school before, but she thought it could be fun.

It felt a little ridiculous when this was so new, but for the first time, that version of herself seemed possible.

She’d gone still and Ed pulled back, brushing a bit of hair that had fallen in her face away. “You okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it,” she said, giving him one final peck on the lips. “Let’s go eat.”

The rest of the day was busy with preparations to keep moving. Victor took Heinkel and Darius to the market with him to gather more rations as well as food to replace the sudden strain that six extra mouths had put on his own resources, then, because they were curious, enlisted them in helping around the bakery. Meanwhile, Will started fixing up their father’s car, assisted to the best of their ability by Becca and Ed. Greedling sat nearby and claimed he was supervising.

As a result, though, they were all ready to head off to bed right after a hearty dinner. Becca had insisted Ed didn’t have to move to the couch if he didn’t want to, countered by his insistence that he did, and, after an appropriate amount of arguing, Becca relented and went to get an extra blanket from an upstairs closet. When she returned to the living room, Ed had vanished into the adjacent bathroom and Will sat at the bench of the piano, pensively tapping out random notes. He looked up when she came in, looking like a deer in headlights.

“Sorry,” he said on instinct.

“God, you’re as bad as me,” Becca said lightly. “Ed had to yell at me before I stopped apologizing for existing.”

“Shut up.” He spied the blankets in her arms and raised an eyebrow. “You’re sleeping down here? Is there not enough room?”

“Oh, no, there’s plenty of room, it’s a long story. I’m fine. Are you? You looked rather… melancholy.”

“Mm,” he said, shrugging, then went back to jab a few of the keys. “‘S just weird being back here, I guess. I never really thought I’d be welcome again.”

Becca sidled over, sinking onto the bench next to him. “Do you regret it? Coming back?”

“I didn’t  say that. If nothing else, I know Dad would have an aneurysm if he knew and that is extremely comforting.” Both siblings laughed a little, then Will sighed. “I needed to do this- to face this house and everything that went down here. But at the same time… I don’t know. I thought returning would be a bit more triumphant, like I was conquering something, but it’s just… empty. It doesn’t feel like I’m taking back my home like I thought it would because this isn’t home anymore.”

“Can’t blame you there,” Becca said. “I’m glad we’ve been able to use this as a stop, but I’m not really sure what to do with it now. I mean, I’m not ever planning on living here again, even though it’s technically mine since it’s passed through Dad’s lineage and you were… well…”

“Presumed dead?”

“Yeah,” she exhaled awkwardly. “Either way, half of it should be yours anyway. Honestly, I’d rather just sign everything over to you, but if you don’t want it either-”

Will prodded her gently in the ribs.“Hey, we don’t need to make a decision about it tonight. It might raise some red flags if the house suddenly goes on the market when you’re MIA.”

“Point.”

A small string of wistfulness stirred in her chest as Will straightened his back, taking a deep breath, and began to slide his fingers along the keys of the piano with more purpose. Louisa had taught him to play before Becca was even born, back when he and his parents had been happy. Becca, though, hadn’t even been allowed to go to the regular school, much less take up piano lessons, all of which their father had viewed as a waste of time.

“I was so jealous of you,” she confessed suddenly.

He paused in his playing, frowning disbelievingly. “You? Of me ?”

“You seemed so free,” she said, brushing her own fingers atop the keys without pressing on any of them. “I know now that it was just because Dad had shifted his obsession onto me, but you were allowed to hang out with Victor and- and go to the market, and learn music. You got to have Louisa as your mom. Even when you’d left, I wanted to believe that you’d just decided that it wasn’t worth it any more and you were off living for yourself somewhere. I wanted to be brave enough to do that, but by that time…” She chuckled hollowly. “I don’t really know how to do much other than alchemy.”

“Huh.” Staring down at his hands, he pondered, “Well… I could teach you this.”

Becca faltered, blinking, then glanced up at him, wide-eyed. “I- what? You mean it?”

“I think, after everything, that’s the least I could do,” Will said, laughing dryly. “If you want to learn piano, I see no reason you shouldn’t be allowed to anymore. Here,” He made more room for her on the bench and, when she’d settled eagerly, reached across her to position his hands lightly atop the keys, “you put your fingers here and copy me.”

He began a simple, repetitive 3-note beat that Becca quickly recognized from sitting and watching Will and Louisa playing throughout her childhood. A small smile formed on her face as she kept up the rhythm and Will moved one hand away and used it to take over the melody. His other hand gently guided Becca’s, shifting when necessary to keep to the lullaby. Becca cringed when she missed a key, but Will just stopped, helped her to readjust her hand, lead her through the transition a few times, and then went on like nothing had happened with a soft correction: you go from this note to this one to prompt this key change, do you hear it? As they went on, Becca couldn’t help but hum along to the melody of their childhood lullaby as Will played on.

The three alchemists of the group spent the next day holed up in the library, perusing the Quicksilver Alchemist’s research but also, more importantly, his correspondence. Becca had started a list of upper-brass names they recognized to begin determining who exactly might be involved in this conspiracy. It didn’t seem like Benedict himself had known about it, but he was in communication with high-ranking soldiers, some of which seemed to know more than they were directly saying their letters.

“God, wouldn’t it just kill Dad to know that all the bullshit he did to us paled in comparison to this,” Will said under his breath at one point.

Before he could stop himself, Ed let out a sharp bark of laughter, then slapped his hand over his mouth.

Will smiled, a little shyly.

Becca, for her part, lifted the book she was holding a little higher to stifle her giggle.

They decided to leave the next morning. As much as Becca would miss home-cooked meals (a lot) and Victor’s physical presence (not a much as Will would), they’d gotten the car back up and running and, with it, ran out of excuses to stick around. Soon enough, the military would investigate both of the Harper siblings’ possessions and the house would inevitably come up on their radar. It was best that they were in the wind when they came knocking.

So, with a night spent ransacking the house for anything that Victor could hawk and a few new sets of clothes from various closets, they prepared to set off in the old Sanctuary.

Becca had… borrowed one of her mother’s coats, leaving her embroidered jacket hanging on the coat hooks in Victor’s entryway. It had been hard to say goodbye to the physical manifestation of everything she’d made it through, but logic had won out in that battle. It was too distinctive and it would get her caught. So Victor had sworn to keep it safe for her and she’d said goodbye, firmly shutting the door before she had second thoughts.

Much easier to abandon had been her necklace. The night before, when she and Ed had been getting ready to bunk down, she’d removed it and, staring down at the quicksilver symbol pendant in her hand, absentmindedly said, “God, I wish I could toss this.”

“Why don’t you?” Ed replied, just as distracted as he paged through one of the older alchemical tomes they’d dug out of the library. “At this point, it’s probably more recognizable than the scar.”

And so she had. She’d wrapped herself up in a blanket and, with Ed by her side and little fanfare, shuffled out to the backyard. Under the cover of darkness, she dug a small hole with the heel of her shoe and dropped the heavy silver chain.

The damn thing didn’t even clatter, just landing with a soft thud in the dirt.

Fine, Becca thought, a little bitter as the last memory of her father was finally, finally sullied. I’ll bury the bastard myself.

Ed grabbed her hand, bringing it up to his lips, and sleepily whispered, “‘M proud of you.”

Becca chuckled. “I know,” she said, pleased. “Ready for bed?”

“Mm-hm.”

Their group packed up in the early hours of the morning, their trunk filled nearly to bursting with supplies. Becca hugged Victor first, then climbed into back seat, sliding into the third row of seats. Darius, Heinkel, Ed, and even Greedling shook his hand and followed her into the car, and then Will embraced him tightly. She thought she might have seen the pair of them shaking a little, then Victor got up onto his tiptoes and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips before she looked away to give them as much privacy as she could. They all politely pretended not to see Will wiping his eyes as he climbed in, taking the last spot in the second row.

“Alright, I’ll admit your brother has some redeeming qualities,” Ed said under his breath.

“Thank you,” Becca said, snuggling back into her seat to try and catch a few more hours of rest as Heinkel started the engine. “Now let’s get back to tracking down yours.”

Chapter 56: lagom

Notes:

hiiiiii my dears...

soooooo

sorry for disappearing for two months. i got busy with classes and life and writers block. turns out when you take 18 credit hours its a lot... things that make you go hmm... i'm not super thrilled with parts of this, but i just need to get it out and get back into things, so thats what this is! it might be edited later, it really just depends on how much i'm willing to grind lol.

(also apparent pro tip for getting through writers block: make them make out for 2k words and you're good to go)

n e ways i'm hoping some of the crap in my life wraps up soon and i'll have more time bc we're kind of getting into the final stretch here. its kind of insane to me how far this whole story has come and it genuinely means so much that you all have been here with me. i have such a special place in my heart for you guys and i hope you're as happy to be back here as i am.

no time for sap, tho, we gotta get back into it! just know that ily all so so much and you mean so much to me <3

(i also have a fuck ton of side story ideas floating around in my little brain so feel free to lmk if you want to see those or if you have any ideas yourself xoxo)

EDIT IMMEDIATELY AFTER POSTING: um hello???? i just realized this story is at 10,000 hits??? that's fucking insane!!! i'm losing my mind!!! thank you all so much <3<3<3<3<3<3

lagom (adjective)- neither excessive nor sparse, but looking, feeling, and being in perfect balance

Chapter Text

Turns out, not making a roundabout way to Resembool through one of the cities on a train would cut down the travel time, allowing them to make it to the Rockbell Automail shop in just a few days. Who knew?

They hid the car in the detached garage and slunk toward the Rockbell Automail Shop under cover of darkness. Ed felt around the underside of the bench on the porch, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth, until he drew back with a key in his hand. Becca blanched.

“Shouldn’t we… knock?” she whispered despite the fact that there was no one around and it was half past two a.m.

“Nah, Granny’ll be pissed if we wake her up,” Ed replied, unlocking the door and gesturing them all inside. Den, dozing in the front room, blinked awake and woofed softly, but a few scratches behind her ears from Ed sent her back off to dreamland. Greedling almost bolted up the stairs before Will caught him by the collar. “I’ll talk to her in the morning, but for tonight, let’s just crash in the living room.”

Greedling crossed his arms. “I am not sleeping on the floor again.”

“You can have the couch.”

Their group wound up sprawled all over the floor of the main sitting room. Becca was pretty sure that Heinkel might actually have ended up at the foot of the stairs, but frankly, she was so tired she didn’t think she could pick her head up and check if she tried. Greedling, as promised, stretched like a particularly pleased cat across the couch, leaving everyone else to take any available floor space. Ed distributed a few blankets he’d dug out of a closet, then maneuvered his way down until he had scooted his way underneath Becca, who was little more than dead weight, and taken up the position that had become very normal after the past few days.

Despite her exhaustion– Ed had been able to fall asleep on the way here, but, unused to the bumpy roads this far away from any major cities, Becca hadn’t been so lucky– she managed a small smile against his chest. Their normal sleeping positions, as it turned out, fit perfectly together, with one of her legs hiked up over his hip and his hand coming to rest on her back, slipping under the fabric of her shirt.

“You’re sure Pinako won’t freak out on us?” she mumbled, blinking slowly as she felt his nails tracing little circles on her lower back.

“She won’t,” he assured. “We’re family. Can’t get mad at family for coming home.”

Becca could have dozed off pretty easily right then and there if it hadn’t been for Ed quickly growing restless under her. He didn’t try to move her, but she felt him squirm here and there, tilting his head toward the window or the doorway, and continuing to make small circles on her back long after he should have fallen asleep. After much too long, she rolled off of him (she politely ignored how he jumped at the sudden move) and sat up, pulling one knee to her chest.

“Alright, what are you thinking about?”

For a moment, she thought he was going to ignore her until he let out a heavy sigh and turned onto his side, facing her. “I have to ask Granny to do something and find Winry to ask her too. I don’t think they’ll take it well.”

Becca’s lips quirked into a small smile. “Don’t tell me you’re going to admit that your automail’s not in great shape. I’ve been telling you, sitting in the car isn’t good for it.”

He rolled his eyes. “My automail’s fine.”

“Mm,” she hummed noncommittally, stroking a hand through his hair. He’d let it down to sleep, pooling around his shoulders. When he’d moved slightly into her touch, she pressed, “So what do you have to ask her?”

“I want them to leave Amestris. If we can get Ling back for long enough to get him to write for Mr. Fu, he might be able to track down Winry and escort them both to Xing until the Promised Day.”

Ah, yes. That would make sense as a reason to be worried, especially since they were back in Winry’s house with all of her tools. Becca sucked a breath through her teeth. She could lie to him, but she was pretty sure he’d see right through her. So instead, she nodded slowly and admitted, “Yeah. I can see how that wouldn’t go very well for you.” 

“But I have to try to get them out, right?” Ed fretted. “The Rockbells, they’re not locked up in this whole mess like we are. If we can sneak Winry away, she even can’t be used against us!”

“I don’t think it’s a bad instinct, but that might not be what she wants,” she said. “And I think that getting Pinako Winry to do something they don’t want to is going to be next to impossible, short of arranging for Fu to kidnap them.”

“I have to try ,” he repeated, growing more serious.

“You should let her know we have that option,” she proposed. “Let her decide if she wants to take it.”

Ed flopped back onto his back, groaning and covering his face until Becca took his hands in hers, pulling them away. “Just talk to them. But be prepared to listen too.”

“Goodness gracious!”

Pinako, to her credit, did not freak out except for the small shriek of surprise when she nearly stepped on a chimera as she descended the stairs the next morning.

The sound roused all of them, not enough to shock, but sufficient to coax them all into wakefulness, which was a nice change of pace from how they’d been living. Pinako’s footsteps crossed the room, and Becca and Ed had just raised their heads, blinking sleep out of their eyes, when she swatted Ed across the back of the head and scolded, “Damn boy! You’re going to give me a heart attack!”
Ed yelped, rubbing the spot where she’d hit him and scowling. “Didn’t want to interrupt your beauty sleep, Granny, it’s obvious you need it.”

Becca couldn’t suppress a smile, especially not when Pinako turned and patted her hair affectionately. She rolled off of Ed, pushing herself to her feet. “I’m very sorry about the scare, ma’am. Can I help you with breakfast?”

“Pinako, dear,” she corrected. “Or Granny. If the midget gets that privilege, I see no reason you shouldn’t as well.”

“Who are you calling a midget?!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Greed demanded, his head still buried in his pillow.

Breakfast went over as normally as possible with their group and then, with Pinako’s permission, they all spread out across the house and grounds. She couldn’t speak for everyone else, but as she settled into a deep armchair in the office with a book nicked from Winry’s shelf and tucked her feet underneath her, Becca herself relished in the several hours of free time.

Without constantly feeling like the world was closing in on her.

Alone and blessedly quiet.

She let out a long, content breath and closed her eyes. As she shut the book and let it come to rest on her lap, she realized she’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be relaxed. The sun shining through the windows, not feeling the ghosts of her past coming back to haunt her, and the unassuming sounds of tinkering from the workshop next door made for a nice sense of ambiance and she thought she could have dropped off to sleep again right then and there. She probably would have done just that if she hadn’t heard a thud and a loud swear from the workshop and went ramrod straight before she could stop herself.

“I’m fine!” Ed shouted, sounding a bit pained. Pinako said something too quiet for Becca to hear and Ed’s uneven footsteps made their way toward the office. Still, she didn’t let her shoulders sag back down until he appeared in the doorway, hands raised. Becca immediately clocked that the limp that had been plaguing him the past few days had worsened. He’d been assuring her that his automail was fine, but she’d worried the sedentary lifestyle in the car might have been taking its toll.

He noticed her skeptical look at his leg and lowered his hands slowly. “Granny was trying to look at my leg,” he explained simply. “Turns out, once Winry’s not studying under her, their techniques don’t stay exactly the same.”

“Are you okay?” she asked, brow furrowing.

“Fine,” he said again. “Just gave me a shock. She said she got enough to draw up some blueprints and hopefully try and find some replacement parts before we need to move on again.” He stepped over the threshold, then hesitated. “Can I-”

Yes, she’d wanted to be alone, but alone with Ed was basically the same thing at this point. She scooted sideways, making room for him in the plushy armchair, a clear invitation. He grinned, bounding in and swinging the door shut behind him, and plopped down next to her. Becca giggled as they both sank a little further into the cushion, hips pressing together.

“Geez, Bex,” Ed said, hands ghosting up the outside of her legs where they had splayed across his thighs. Her breath caught and he froze, but he didn’t pull away and she relaxed. He traced his fingers up, up, up; and, ever so gradually, came to rest on her hip and squeezed once. She watched his throat bob as he swallowed, rasping out, “You’re fucking bony.”

She huffed out another laugh, hiding her face in his neck. As she shifted, she felt Ed shudder, as well as one of her own as she drew back to meet his eyes. Without breaking his gaze, she carefully maneuvered herself until she could toss one leg over his lap, waiting for a quiet whisper of permission before actually doing so. He moved closer to the middle of the chair as she straddled him, one hand still gripping her hip as the other came up to cup the nape of her neck.

Was this what normal couples did? Couples who didn’t constantly have to worry about being hunted down by their government, or the ones who didn’t feel the ghosts of their pasts floating over their shoulder? Were these the kind of feelings they got to feel every day?

Becca tried not to dwell on the negatives of their situation, but not having moments like these wasn’t fair. A small frown flitted briefly across her face.

Still, when Ed leaned up, checking in with a rough, “Bex?”, she pushed all those thoughts from her mind. The fact that they didn’t get these quiet moments very often just meant they would have to make them more special. So, she settled down a bit and let her nails skim soothingly across his scalp until he relaxed as well, letting his eyes fall shut. Her hands drew once through his bangs, then came down to his collarbone. Becca’s mouth went a little dry at the sight and an uncharacteristic wave of bravery rushed over her as she let instinct take over.

“Can I-” she whispered hoarsely, then cleared her throat and started over. “Can I kiss you here?” she asked, moving her thumb in a small circle where it rested at the junction of his neck and collarbone

He let out an odd, shaky groan. “Please.”

It was Becca’s turn to swallow thickly, nerves creeping in no matter how she tried to ignore them. She’d never done anything like this before– she didn’t know how. She’d probably mess it up and embarrass herself, and then Ed would wonder what he’d gotten himself into and-

Her lips pressed against the edge of his jaw first and she felt her face go hot, realizing she hadn’t noticed him tilting his head to accommodate her. She almost froze, and yet-

She felt his breath hitch under her hands and hesitantly pulled away, peering up at his face through her lashes. As if he could sense her stare, his eyes fluttered open, gray and gold meeting once again.

“Okay?” she murmured worriedly.

“Yes.” His head fell backward, exposing even more of his neck as it rested against the back of the chair. “God, yes.”

Becca allowed herself a shaky smile, leaning back in and beginning a light trail of kisses down his neck, down to where she’d initially indicated. Ed’s hand– his flesh hand– still a comforting weight on the back of her neck, she brushed her lips over the spot, right at the arc of the trapezius muscle. All of a sudden, he gasped and his grip tightened, not pushing or forcing but definitely encouraging.

So she did. The collar of his shirt tickled her lips when she kissed him there again, but she nosed it aside and pressed in slightly harder. Ed trembled under her, but his hand didn’t let up, so she stayed right where she was, thank you very much. Hell, she was sure she was probably trembling as well. She would have raised her hand and checked if she hadn’t been occupied.

They stayed like that for a while, Becca occasionally venturing away, up to his jaw or his lips, but always returning to the spot that made him gasp, until she got curious and added the slightest hint of teeth she could manage. Just a nip, not enough to leave a mark, but enough to get a reaction all the same. Ed jolted like he’d been shocked, then raggedly breathed out her name. The hand at her neck slid down to her chin, guiding her back up until their lips met, both teenagers in a fervor. His automail hand, which had been a steadying presence on her waist this whole time, slid under her shirt to the middle of her back, and she arched into his touch. His mouth had just moved from her lips to her cheek, heady breaths promising more, when the front door slammed. The two of them started, the little cloud of solitude that had fallen over the office fading as they broke apart.

“Mrs. Rockbell, there’s a ton of sheep going down to the main part of town,” Will’s confused voice shouted from the entryway. “Like, more than what I think would be normal?”

Becca burst into giggles again as Ed rolled his eyes, more fondly than usual but still clearly annoyed. “Goddamn it,” he swore, smiling ruefully.

“Kind of a mood ruiner,” Becca said through her laughter.

“The sheep or your stupid brother?”

“I don’t see why it can’t be both.”

“They’re for the festival, dear!” Pinako shouted back. “I’ll be going after lunch, so you’ll be by yourselves for dinner! Come eat!”

Goddamn it,” Ed repeated, helping Becca steady herself as she climbed out of his lap, still chuckling. He followed, pushing himself up with a disappointed groan, then wrapped her up in his arms and pressed a single kiss to a spot right beneath her ear, silencing her giggles and sending a shiver down her spine. “Next time,” he promised under his breath as he stepped back and grabbed her hand instead.

Becca grinned brightly as he pulled her from the room.

When Pinako left for the festival– and Becca had done her fair share of laughing over the fact that Resembool had a sheep festival – and night fell, it was decided that they should all bunker down in the windowless sitting room, the only place they could turn on the lights without arousing suspicion from anyone taking a chance look at the house atop the hill.

The forethought paid off when they heard the distinctive sounds of a wooden cart rolling up to the Rockbell’s shop. Their group went silent, tensing up as one. There were voices but Becca heard them fade away from the front door before she could even try to recognize them.

“Should we go make sure they’ve left?” Will whispered.

Heinkel nodded. “Darius and I will take the back door.”

“There’s a basement,” Ed said. “Bex and I can check there, just in case.”

“Greedling, front door with me,” Will said, getting to his feet.

The homunculus whined, tipping his head back, but followed. Darius, Heinkel, Becca, and Ed headed in the other direction towards the back of the house; though Ed and Becca dropped off first, pivoting into the side doorway leading to the stairway.

“I’ll go first,” Becca whispered.

“What? Why?” Ed demanded.

She gave him a pointed look. “I think I’m a bit better at the whole ‘element of surprise’ thing than you.”

“Are you blaming my automail?!”

“Not at all,” she said soothingly, descending the stairs while gesturing for him to stay where he was. “Just your general… you-ness.”

She heard him grumbling behind her, but he did allow her to slip into the darkness first even though she was sure he would abandon all subtleties and leap down the whole flight at the first sign of trouble. The stairway was separated in the middle by a landing in the corner and, peering around that corner, Becca was met by a familiar pair of blue eyes.

“Holy shit!” she and Winry exclaimed in unison.

Becca barely had time to think, Oh, that probably wasn’t the best reaction when everyone is so on edge before it felt like thundering footsteps were coming down on them from all directions. Ed, of course, was there in an instant, nearly careening into the wall from how fast he’d moved, but quickly realized that there was nothing to be afraid of and untensed. The same could not be said for the chimeras at the top of the stairs or Winry’s companions at the bottom. No, those men had all drawn their guns, their shouting in the already crowded staircase only adding to the overwhelming din, enough so that Becca couldn’t tell what any of them were saying. Poor Den had clearly been spooked from wherever she’d been resting and was darting up and down the stairs, barking wildly.

A sharp whistle rang through the space, silencing everyone and drawing their attention to the top of the steps. Will’s fingers were still in his mouth as his shoulders heaved, breathing heavily from a sprint across the house at the disturbance. Greedling, however, took charge.

“What the hell is going on here?”

“Wait a second, you’re Kimblee’s men!” one of Winry’s escorts realized suddenly. “Have you been tracking us?!”

That sent them all back into a bout of arguing, leaving Will looking confused and Greedling rolling his eyes.

Ling ? Where did you guys pick him back up?” Winry asked incredulously. “Does anyone want to tell me what’s going on?”

“Seems like a cautionary tale about guns,” Becca remarked, leaning backward just in case one of the men waving their weapons around got a little too reckless.

“Ha ha,” she said drily. “I mean, what are you guys doing in my house?”

“It’s a long story,” Ed explained. “You might want to sit down.” He glanced around, then made a face. “I guess after we get this taken care of.”

“I got it,” Winry said, then raised her voice and commanded, “Everybody, out!”

It took a minute, but everyone managed to maneuver safely back out into the main hallway. The chimeras and the men from Briggs continued to eye each other suspiciously, but Winry successfully corralled them to the dining room table and sat them down alongside Will and Greed.

“You two,” Winry ordered, jabbing a finger towards Ed and Becca, then towards the other room. “Living room.”

Ed blanched and Becca took a deep breath, but Winry didn’t exactly leave much room for argument, so they shuffled obediently into the living room, taking seats on the couch. Winry followed, shutting the door, and lowered herself down into one of the armchairs. Ed reached over, taking Becca’s hand from where she’d been wringing it in her lap, then resting their joined hands on her thigh. Winry definitely noticed the movement and raised her brows, but said nothing. They sat in silence for a few moments before she admitted, “I’m glad you guys are okay. I’ve been so worried.”

“We- we were worried about you guys too,” Becca said. “We’ve been trying to meet back up with you.”

“I thought Al would still be traveling with you,” Ed admitted.

“Al!” Winry exclaimed, sitting bolt upright in her seat. “They had to refuel, so he’s probably still at the train station with Miles! You could go meet up with him!”

Ed jolted in his seat but didn’t get up, his grip on Becca’s hand tightening when she tried to get to her feet as well. “What are you doing?” she asked.

“We’re fugitives,” Ed said quietly. “All of us. We can’t risk someone seeing us– any of us, including Al. Trying to talk to him here… now… it would only put him in more danger.”

“Oh, come on,” Becca argued, tugging insistently where their hands were still clasped together. “We basically traded your brother for mine, that’s not fair for you. This is our chance to get him back-”

“He’s not gone ,” Ed said, although his brow was still furrowed rather irritatedly. He let out a long breath and sunk defeatedly into the couch cushions. Becca sighed, tucking her feet under her and scooting a little closer to his chest, and relaxed as he began tracing small circles on the back of her hand. “This is- this is the safest way for things to be right now.”

Becca looked up at him. “I’m still sorry,” she said. “This sucks.”

“So I take it you guys haven’t been having an easier time than us?” Winry questioned, frowning. “I’d hoped maybe it was just an ‘us’ problem.”

“Our bad luck tends to be pretty evenly distributed between the three of us,” Ed said tiredly.

“Yeah, I’ve been picking up on that as of-”

The front door creaked open and they all froze. “Winry?” came Pinako’s voice. They all turned to the doorway and Winry was up in an instant, running to her grandmother. Both women hit the floor, holding each other in a firm embrace. From her vantage point, Becca saw Pinako’s glasses fog up as she squeezed Winry a bit tighter. “Welcome home, dear.”

“Hi, Granny,” the girl said wetly. “I hope you weren’t too worried about me.”

“Never. I knew you could take care of yourself,” Pinako said, patting her on the cheek as they stood back up. “Now who are all these new hooligans you’ve left in my dining room?”

They reconvened, prompting a round of introductions from the newcomers. Pinako puttered about, shoving her way through the crowd of military men until they got the hint and began helping to drag more chairs in from around the house until everyone had a seat, leaving them elbow to elbow around the table.

“So, Ling… doesn’t remember me?” Winry asked, leaning over to Becca without taking her eyes off of Greedling across the table.

The homunculus noticed Winry’s curious glances and winked. Becca rolled her eyes. “It’s a long story.”

“You must have met this guy,” Greedling said, gesturing down at his- well, Ling’s- body. “I can guarantee I’m a better time than him. The name’s Greed, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I don’t know if these two told you already, but I’m sort of the leader of this operation.” He smiled saccharinely and Winry made a face.

“Lay off, Greedling,” Ed retorted from Becca’s other side. “We’ve got bigger issues to discuss than who’s in charge.”

“Yeah, like why you came to my house of all places?”

“Oh, Elric and Harper thought we’d find you here,” Greedling explained, waving his hand flippantly. “I agreed because his automail needs some serious maintenance.”

“I already tried to check him out, but you’ve really blossomed into your own craftswoman so it’s probably best you give him a look-see,” Pinako said, a proud smile on her face as she patted Winry’s hand.

“I’m surprised we made it back here before you guys,” Will said from his spot in the corner. “I thought you had a pretty significant lead on us.”

At that, Winry looked a little bit guilty, rubbing at the back of her neck. “Well…”

Turns out, they'd taken the outermost detour-- Liore. Winry said the town was getting back on its feet, which was good. The townsfolk didn't deserve to suffer eternally for trusting the wrong person. She continued that  Major Miles had gotten word that the Northern troops had hatched a plan based in the east and Al had opted to follow them. Ed nodded approvingly, and then Winry dropped the biggest bomb of the night: “We ran into your father in Liore, Ed.”

Ed went rigid. “Yeah?” he replied as casually as he could. “What’d the old bastard have to say for himself this time?”

“He was heading to Central. An Ishvalan settlement called Kanama. You should really talk to him about… everything.” He hummed unhappily but didn’t confirm nor deny whether or not he would follow up on that suggestion. Winry exhaled wearily. “It’s almost the Promised Day.”

“We know,” Becca said, exchanging a look with Ed. Now that they’d broached the topic, she knew he was going to bring up what he’d been so worried about the night before. “Ling and Greed filled us in.”

“It might give us a chance to get our bodies back, but it might also be a massive catastrophe for the entire country. I- we talked and-” He looked helplessly to Becca, who shrugged, then took a deep breath, clenched his automail fist, and started again. “Listen, Winry. I want you, Granny, and Den and hide out for a little while. We know a way to get you to Xing-”

The table erupted into chaos from the Rockbells protesting vehemently. Even Den joined in, spurned to her feet by the sudden noise and adding to the din with her frantic barking as she darted around underneath the table.

“Alright, I’m out,” Greedling said, pushing his chair out. “Mrs. Rockbell, do you have an extra bed around here? My body’s better than most but I can’t say I loved being on the couch.”

Pinako leveled a stern glare at both Ed and Becca, but hopped down from her chair as well and ushered everyone except the two of them and Winry out of the room. “We’ll get you all settled. Edward, we’ll be talking about this later.”

“Like hell we’ll talk later!” Winry barked, reaching behind Becca to smack Ed upside the head. “We’re not running away!”

“I wouldn’t call it running away-” Becca tried to soothe despite the fact that she knew, had it been her in this situation, she would have called it exactly that. 

Either way, it didn’t seem like Winry had heard her. Apparently, it had been a good idea to let Ed take the reins on this one since he seemed to be who Winry now chose to focus her frustration on. The two blondes were out of their seats seconds after the dining room door closed, leaving the three of them cut off from the others in the house and giving clearance for the pair fully go at it.

“I know you’re trying to protect us, but you have to save everyone !”

Becca and Ed retorted at the same time, speaking over each other.

“I’m trying my best, but there’s a chance it might not work!”

“We’re going to do everything we can, but we have to be realistic!”

“I don’t want to hear any doubts from you!” Winry demanded before her voice suddenly got very small. “Please… both of you, you can’t let them go through with this! Tell me you’re going to stop them and save the country! And- and get your and Al’s bodies back! Tell me you’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen!”

“You’re making it sound so easy!”

“This isn’t the time for you to finally grow some insecurity, Ed!”

“Gah!” Ed said, throwing his hands up and stomping towards the door. “Winry, you just don’t know when to shut up, do you?”

Winry’s mouth snapped shut. Her jaw clenched as she fumed, crossing her arms defiantly over her chest. 

“Edward!” Becca reprimanded. Ed said nothing as he left, slamming the door behind him. She turned to Winry, touching her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Winry. That was uncalled for.”

She laughed derisively and dropped back down in one of the abandoned chairs. “Yeah. Yeah, it was.”

“We’re not trying to baby you or anything like that,” Becca said. “I’m sorry if it’s coming off like that. It’s not that we don’t think you can handle whatever they’re going to throw at us. I know you can . But you never want your loved ones to suffer, not when you think you can prevent it, and suffering is all this is going to bring. Nobody would blame you if you wanted to get the hell out of dodge and go luxuriate with Ling’s clan for a while.”

Winry looked up, genuine anguish in her eyes. “So you all have to go through the suffering, but I don’t? I should just go hang out in some mansion in Xing?”

“Pain isn’t a contest. But even if it was, you’ve suffered. Ed has seen you suffer. I’ve seen you suffer. It’s not pretty. You can deal with it, but you shouldn’t have to.” Trying to seem light-hearted about the whole thing, Becca shrugged and added, “We’re contractually obligated. You’re not.”

Luckily, that did get a tiny laugh out of her. She groaned, burying her head in her hands. “Ugh. You’re ridiculous, all of you. Does studying alchemy make you a self-sacrificing idiot, or is that just every single alchemist I know?”

“No comment,” Becca replied with the most charming smile she could muster. Winry hesitantly offered one back, leaning over onto Becca’s shoulder, who wrapped an arm around her. “But if you do decide you want to go to Xing-”

“I thought I was obvious-”

Becca raised her hands in surrender before Winry could reach for a wrench or any wrench-shaped object nearby. “Just saying! If you do decide you want to lounge around for a while, the option’s there. But I swear, we’re not going to let those bastards destroy the country without a fight. Fair?”

Winry considered her for a moment, then sagged. “Fair enough.”

They didn’t end up sticking around much longer, especially not once Ed bucked up and apologized after a conversation with Greedling of all people, meaning Winry could sit down and fix up his arm and leg. Still, leaving on good terms didn’t make actually leaving any easier. Greedling, Will, and the chimeras had already clambered into the car, giving Ed and Becca a chance to say goodbye.

“Do you have to go now? In the middle of the night?” Winry said, worrying her lip. “Is that really safe? There aren’t even any trains going until morning.”

Ed chuckled, wrapping his arms around her. “None of this is what I’d call safe, Win. We’re driving, not taking the train, but we should still try and get out of here without anyone else seeing.”

“Plus, the Promised Day is soon,” Becca added as she nudged her way into the embrace. “We’ve got to get moving if we’re going to stop it.”

One more squeeze and they broke apart, each teenager smiling ruefully. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do,” Winry said softly, clasping their hands.

“I’d take an apple pie for when we get back,” Ed teased as he gently pried himself out of her grip. “If you’re offering.”

The girl grinned, flashing a thumbs up at them. Pinako raised her hand in farewell as they turned and retreated down the stairs to the car. “Edward, don’t forget to pass along that message from your mother.”

Message from his mother? Becca paused and glanced sideways just in time to see his face fall. That expression combined with the mention of his parents could really only mean one thing: Van Hohenheim. Ed met her eyes and inhaled deeply, taking her hand, mouthing, I’ll tell you later. He waved his hand haphazardly over his shoulder. “Sure thing, Granny, I’ll pass it on if I see him.”

Becca climbed in first, pulling her boyfriend in behind her as he shut the door, then leaned over the console to look at the map Darius and Heinkel had spread over their laps. “I don’t suppose Kanama is labeled.”

“Nope,” Darius replied, examining the areas around Central City. “But it can’t be too hard to find, can it?”

“About that,” Will piped up from the back seat. Everyone swiveled around and he shrank back into his seat, but meekly continued, “I know how to get to Kanama. I- I stayed there for a bit. During my- um- lost years.”

Nobody said anything until Ed managed, “You stayed… in an Ishvalan settlement?”

“Yes?” he said, eyes flicking to meet Becca’s in alarm. “I… I thought I mentioned it.”

He had mentioned it, Becca remembered faintly. Had done so months ago. She couldn’t believe she’d forgotten, but Heinkel barely hesitated before passing the map back, along with a pen. “Well, what are you waiting for, Harper? Draw us a damn path!”

Chapter 57: vorfreude

Notes:

greetings my dears!!!

hello! it is summer for me! so sorry i got busy again!

genuinely i am very sorry that i keep dropping off the face of the earth-- i'm doing my best to stay on top of things but i would not say i have been super successful. i think i mentioned it before, but we really are in the endgame of the main story, but i'm probably going to keep doing little extras in the 'verse just bc i love ed and becca and this world (and of course all of you) so i am going to try to be better with consistency over the summer depending on how much i have to work :)

enjoy this chapter- i hope i'll be able to be back soon!

vorfreude (noun)- the joyful anticipation that comes from imagining future pleasures

Chapter Text

“Hold on, hold on, stop,” Will said as their car puttered up to the outskirts of the Kanama settlement. Darius pressed on the brakes and the car rolled to a gentle stop next to a white-haired man bent picking a few mushrooms in a patch of grass on the side of the road. Becca, sat in the back with Ed once more, watched as her brother rolled down the window and asked, “Dov? Is that you?”

The man looked up, pushing himself up to their level, brow furrowed. Becca was expecting it, but it was still a bit jolting to see his Ishvalan red eyes, instinctual fear rearing its head until his tan, sun-weathered face cracked in a grin. “William? Where’ve you been, brother?”

Will smiled at that, relieved, and Becca felt her shoulders drop as the visions of Scar’s hardened face were chased out of her mind. Will stuck his hand out the window and the other man, Dov, clasped his forearm excitedly. “Um… I’ve been around,” he said, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Who’s this?” Dov asked as he peered into the car at the rest of their party.

“Well…” Will glanced over his shoulder at the back seats where Heinkel, Greedling, Ed, and Becca were sitting. “Any chance we could get out of the open before addressing that?”

Dov scrutinized them for a few more moments before a hesitant smile split his face. “Come on, man. You know the way.”

Will laughed relievedly and nodded, trailing slowly behind the Ishvalan as he guided them back to the main hub of the village before putting the car in park. Dov spoke in a low, excited tone to a few of the elders lingering curiously around the car, but after a few of them brightened in recognition as Will clambered out of the car first, Dov just stepped aside and let them swarm him. Soft hands tousled his hair and warm voices inquired after his health, his eating habits, his hair, and there was something almost bizarre about seeing Will so bashful and… boy-like under their ministrations. Eventually, Will gently extracted himself from the group and gestured to where Ed, Becca, Greedling, Darius, and Heinkel hovered awkwardly near their car.

“Masters,” he said reverently, inclining his head slightly towards the group of older men and women surrounding him. Apparently letting him take the lead, Dov had stepped back and lingered near the edge of the circle, though his eyes still tracked their every movement carefully. “Thank you for the warm welcome. I want to introduce my comrades– Mr. Darius and Mr. Heinkel, Mr. Greed, Edward Elric, and my sister, Rebecca.”

The elders shared glances between themselves before one of the women stepped forward. “State Alchemists?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at Ed and Becca.

Ed bristled beside her, but Becca squeezed his hand and replied, “Deserters, technically.”

“Elric…” the woman said thoughtfully, humming under her breath, then snapped her fingers. “You, boy! Did you go to  Xerxes?”

Becca felt him stiffen next to her and Will gave him an odd glance over his shoulder, waving at him to speak when he didn’t respond. Evidently confused, he replied, “Um… yes?”

The woman’s face broke into a grin. “Ah, my sister wrote to me about you, Edward. How your friends’ parents’ saved her life and you agreed to thank them for her. How you listened to her and our people.”

“Oh-” Ed blanched. Becca looked over, a small, proud smile spreading, just in time to see his face go a bit pink. “Madame Shan is your sister?”

“Listen to him!” the woman crowed out a scratchy laugh. “Calling my baby sister ‘Madame’ Shan!”

“Jaya, we’re looking for a man called Hohenheim,” Will said, steering the conversation back on track. “We were told he was coming this way.”

That sobered the woman quickly, and she was back to suspicion, brow furrowing in their direction. “What do you all want with Mr. H?”

“He’s my father,” Ed said, heaving a long-suffering sigh. “And we need to talk to him about… a personal matter.”

Jaya turned back around and once again, the Ishvalan elders whispered amongst themselves. Stepping back a little, Will tried to look reassuring as he ran an anxious hand through his hair. Throughout the whole exchange, Greedling had looked unerringly bored, but even he was beginning to look antsy. Jaya turned back to them and Becca couldn’t help but inhale sharply when she whispered conspiratorially, “Would this personal matter be the Promised Day?”

Similarly to how Jaya seemed to speak for the whole of the Ishvalans, Becca deferred to Will as the de facto speaker on their group’s behalf. He nodded. “Are you working with him to stop it?”

“Obviously,” the woman scoffed. “Anyone sane would. I assume you have something useful to pass on?”

“We hope so.”

Jaya cast a look over her shoulder, waited for a nod of affirmation from the others in the circle of elders, and, when she received it, opened her hands affably. “You all are welcomed into our community.”

“Thank you,” Will said, his tone formal as he dipped his head earnestly again. “We appreciate your hospitality.”

Finally, that exchange seemed to break the majority of the tension. The rest of the Ishvalans swarmed Will again and, this time, Becca couldn’t hold back a giggle at the embarrassed look on his face as they fussed, though he notably didn’t push them away or make any attempt to escape their ministrations. One of the men turned to her and she froze, afraid she’d offended them, but he merely grabbed her by the chin with calloused yet kind fingers, turning her this way and that before declaring, “I see the family resemblance, Will.”

“You do?” Becca and Will said in unison.

“Of course,” the man replied easily. “Same nose, same chin…” He turned to Will, smirking. “I always thought you looked rather dainty, boy.”

Everyone– Ishvalans, homunculi, and Amestrians– in the circle burst out laughing as he flushed, and the rest of the lingering awkwardness seemed to drain away. “Can we see Hohenheim yet?” Will said, the tips of his ears still bright red.

“I got you, man,” Dov said, shoving his way through the crowd and apparently taking pity on him. “Mr. H usually hangs around this way.”

With a few more affectionate words, the Ishvalans began to float back off to the tasks they'd been doing before they arrived, and Greedling, having long passed the amount of time he deemed acceptable for someone else to be the leader, quickly shouldered the way to the front of their small procession trailing Dov deeper into the encampment. Dov didn’t seem to mind the presence of the homunculus right behind him, or if he did, he hid it without so much as a flinch, chattering along to Greedling’s questions about what he knew about Hohenheim. Not much, was the short answer, though the elders seemed to know more and he trusted that they would let the rest of them in on it when the right time came. 

Before letting go of him, Becca pressed a kiss to the back of Ed’s hand clasped in hers, then dropped back to converse with Will. “Mr. Popular, huh?”

He shoved her, ducking away to hide his fond look. “I stumbled out here after I got busted for squatting at some abandoned house on the outskirts of Central, and I’d been living basically in the elements since I failed the State Alchemist exam, so I was… not doing well, physically or mentally. They baby me because they sort of had to nurse me back to health. They tried to- um- get me back to where I was.” He gestured vaguely at the space between them. “They gave it their best shot, but obviously it wasn’t enough. I think that was more of a personal failure, though. It wasn’t their fault.”

Becca’s heart sank a bit at the stark reminder of how broken he’d truly been just a few months ago. She nudged him encouragingly with her shoulder. “It wasn’t not enough,” she said. “It just took a while to sink in.”

He smiled ruefully and said nothing. Becca knew he didn’t believe her, but she decided to take his silence as at least a better sign than arguing about it with her and opted to let him think. Soon enough, she caught sight of the back of a familiar blonde head hunched over a campfire, as well as Ed’s own shoulders hunching in front of her. She squeezed Will’s shoulder and murmured, “I’ve gotta go prevent patricide,” drawing out a small laugh from him before she drifted back to her boyfriend.

“Mr. H, you’ve got some visitors!” Dov called out.

“No permanent injuries until after we’ve gotten all the information we need,” Becca said under her breath. “If you need to challenge him to a duel or something, wait until later.”

“Fine,” Ed ground out, his eyes narrowing as Hohenheim turned to look at them, his expression going from puzzled to politely interested.

“Oh, Edward, you’ve come to-”

Faster than Becca could stop him, Ed wound up his automail arm and punched his father straight across the face, who let out a sharp noise of pain as he stumbled to the ground. “Ed!” Becca chastised. “You’re going to scramble his brain and then he won’t be able to tell us anything!” (She admitted internally that she likely wouldn’t have even argued that had he used his flesh fist rather than metal.) The others seemed alarmed but didn’t move to interfere once it became clear that Ed just needed to get one hit out of his system, shaking his arm out to loosen the tension in his shoulder.

“I feel so much better,” he sighed contentedly.

“You didn’t have to punch me with your metal arm. Dov, a moment?” Hohenheim said, frowning as he gathered himself up off the ground. He managed to get to his feet, dusted himself off, and peered curiously at the rest of the group through his spectacles. “It’s good to see you again, Miss Rebecca. Have you two made some new friends?”

“I’m his boss ,” Greedling said, then thumbed over his shoulder at the chimeras. “These guys are also part of my crew.”

“We’re just here for the ride,” Darius corrected.

“I’m… supervising?” Will said unsurely.

“Ah, I see…” Hohenheim said, nodding to himself, then inclined his head respectfully towards Greedling, then Will. “Thank you very much for looking after my son.”

“The brat does need a firm hand, doesn’t he?” Greedling jeered, ignoring Ed huffing loudly between them. Becca scooted forward again, rubbing what she hoped were soothing circles onto his back. Patricide was becoming more and more likely by the moment if Hohenheim made another wrong step.

Luckily, he refrained from making any more comments concerning his son as soon as he spotted the blatant ouroboros mark on Greedling’s hand. Hoheheim cocked an eyebrow. “Interesting tattoo you have there, Mister…?”

Greedling smirked. “Greed. No use in hiding it from you.” The homunculus’ violet eyes glinted in the low sunlight. “But we’ve got some questions for you and you better not hide anything from us either.”

Hohenheim’s gold eyes tracked from Greedling to Darius and Heinkel, to Will, to Becca, and finally to meet the matching pair on Ed’s face. Ed went taut under his gaze, but he didn’t move. His father sighed. “I suppose that’s fair. It’s high time I was honest with you kids.”

Becca thought it had to be pretty hard to render all six of them speechless, and yet, relaying his life story, Hohenheim managed. Through the light of the fire, Becca could barely see them, but the chimeras looked mildly disturbed. Next to them on one side, Will was wide-eyed in horror, and on the other, even Greed looked shaken up. Ed looked like he was going to vomit, his fingers crushing Becca’s where their joined hands had come to rest in her lap, and Becca couldn’t imagine she looked much better. He was barely able to choke out, “There’s no fucking way.”

“The Philosopher’s Stone you’ve been searching for has been right here the whole time,” Hohenheim said, motioning down at his chest. He let them contemplate in disbelief for a few moments, silent but for their ragged breathing and the crackling of the fire, then asked, “Are you going to use it?”

“Are you insane?!” Ed barked immediately. Becca jerked behind him as he jolted so suddenly toward his father, though he didn’t stand. “Al and I lost our bodies because of our own mistake. We’re not going to use the lives of innocent people to undo it!”

Heedless of the outburst, Hohenheim smiled, pleased. “I’m glad for that. Does that mean you’ve come to help me stop his plans?”

“Help you?” Ed repeated derisively. “Don’t get the wrong idea, we aren’t just going to assist you during this whole ‘Promised Day’ mess! I bet you need us more than we need you!”

“What Ed means to say is that we’ve talked this over as a team,” Becca spoke up before he could say something that would ruin their chances of getting to Hoheheim’s plan, “and we’re in agreement that allying with you increases our chances of success, given your knowledge of the enemy. Nobody is working for anybody; we’re all working together.”

“‘Cept you all work for me,” Greedling interrupted.

Becca rolled her eyes. “Of course. Silly me.”

The same melancholy smile hadn’t left Hohenheim’s face during the whole exchange. “Whatever your reasons, Edward, it’s good that we’ll be doing this together.” Like he hadn’t just dropped the massive bomb that he was actually an immortal being sustained by centuries-old souls from a decimated civilization, he clapped his hands onto his thighs and groaned as he pushed himself to his feet. “That’s all to do tonight. You all should get some food and some good rest.”

Ed folded his arms over his chest, not moving. Becca stood first and pulled him up. “Ed,” she said softly. “Didn’t Pinako give you a message for him?”

“Ugh. Fine.” Ed pulled a face, but cupped his hands around his mouth. “Hey, old man! Granny Pinako wanted me to pass along a message from Mom.” Hohenheim paused, looking back over his shoulder and looking almost… hopeful. Ed’s face, on the only hand, was stony as he continued, “She said, ‘Sorry I have to break our promise. Looks like I’m going first’.”

Hohenheim didn’t react at first; then he began to tremble. He turned away from Ed, his face upturned to the sky, but it was evident to everyone around them that he was shaken, especially once tears dripped down his chin and fell to the ground. All of their eyes widened– from the moment she’d first met the man in Resembool, Becca had never seen him so much as sigh at anything Ed said, and here he was trying to hold back actual sobs . Ed himself startled as his father broke down. “What- what the hell are you doing that for?!”

“Sorry- you’re right, I’m sorry-” Hohenheim removed his glasses, wiping frantically at his eyes as he apologized, which only seemed to rattle Ed even more. His gaze flicked to Becca’s, obviously frazzled, and she shrugged helplessly.

Tightening his grip on her hand, Ed backpedaled away from the fire, back towards the main center of the village, pulling her along with him. “Alright, I gave you the message, I’m going to go get something to eat! Come on, Bex!”

The two of them did manage to scrounge up some fresh food, then found an unoccupied patch of grass to sit and eat in relative privacy. Ed had stopped at one of the shops near the town center and slammed down a wad of cash in exchange for a swath of red fabric and was simultaneously shoveling his meal into his mouth, doodling out a rough sketch of the coat he’d long since abandoned alongside the equations he’d need to recreate it, and ranting to Becca, who nodded along sympathetically, her own mouth full.

“-And the first thing the bastard ever apologizes to me for is crying? Not for ignoring Al and me since we were babies, not for abandoning us, for crying ?” he said agitatedly, stabbing a piece of potato with his fork.

Becca hummed in agreement, swallowing the last bite of dinner. “I feel like I’ve made my opinions of him quite clear,” she said. “But Ed, what do you want from him? Do you think he’s going to apologize for all of that?”

Letting out a heavy breath, Ed clapped his hands once and transmuted the fabric into a replica of his old coat. “No,” he replied earnestly. He picked it up by the shoulders and flicked the fabric out, then swung the new coat around and slid it on, slumping over slightly.

“You shouldn’t waste your time on him,” Becca said, sensing that she might have gone a little too pessimistic with her last remark. She tugged at the cloth on his shoulder until he leaned sideways and she guided him to rest his head in her lap so she could run a hand through the strands of loose hair that had fallen out of his ponytail. “Either he’ll realize that what he did was wrong, or he won’t, but I don’t want you putting any of your self-worth into whether or not your ass of a father understands how affected you were by him. It’s like you said, you don’t need him.”

Something there, at least, made him relax ever so slightly, be it her words or her hand in his hair. There was another long sigh, though this one seemed to be more one of contentment. They sat in comfortable silence, Becca absentmindedly undoing the ponytail and stroking through the long golden threads, smoothing out the knots as best she could without pulling too hard and her nails ghosting over his scalp. His eyes eventually drifted closed and Becca thought he’d actually fallen asleep for a few moments before he spoke once more.

“Bex, what are you going to do once this is over?” The question caught Becca off-guard and she froze for a moment and he peeped an eye open, frowning. “You okay?”

She coughed low in her throat and resumed running her fingers through his hair. “Yeah, I’ve just- I don’t know, I’ve thought about it, but nothing ever seems very… possible. I mean, I’m still locked into my State Alchemist contract for the very foreseeable future.”

“Oh, fuck the contract,” Ed said, smacking her leg playfully with a tiny smile. “We’re about to save the country, you should use the clout we’re gonna get after to get that erased. Or at least hefted fully onto your brother.”

“I’m not going to do that ,” she protested, chuckling.

Ed waved her off with an exaggerated grimace. “If you say so. But still, forget the contract. Now what’s the plan?”

“Hmm…” Becca said thoughtfully, scritching at Ed’s skull and getting him to drop his head back down fully into her lap. “What are you gonna do after all of this is over? After the Promised Day and getting your body back and everything?”

“Well, first we have to go back to Resembool– all three of us, or Winry’ll kill us,” Ed said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And I think after that, I’d like to travel around and check in with everyone who helped us. Let them all see that we’re okay. That we made it. After that, I’m… not sure yet. Maybe I’ll travel more, or stay in Resembool for a while. Enjoy the countryside.” He reached up and interlaced their fingers, bringing Becca’s hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to each of her knuckles. “Introduce you to all of the country kid shit you missed out on living in the city.”

“I didn’t live in the city, I lived in a small town,” Becca corrected, laughing. “And I’m pretty sure the main reason I missed out on kid things is because my dad basically locked me in my house.”

“Anyone in Adethal know how to race on a pig?”

“I stand corrected.”

“Damn straight. Now you,” Ed said pointedly. “What are you going to do once you get your debt dropped?”

Becca thought about it for a second, her lips twisting into a pout without her permission. She’d never allowed herself to wonder what she’d do without the threat of the debt she owed handing over her head, not seriously. She’d daydreamed, of course, but she’d always brushed the thoughts away before she got too excited, hurling herself back to reality. “I… I want to go to school at some point,” she decided. “University. I was never allowed to go to regular school, and after we’ve dealt with this, Mustang better write me one hell of a recommendation later to the university of my choice.”

“‘Course you’d want to go to school,” Ed teased, ignoring it when she pinched him lightly in retaliation.

“And you’re there,” she went on over his interruption. “You and Al. You’re still around.”

“Obviously. You’re not getting rid of us for a long time.”

“I want a library of my own, eventually,” Becca said. “I don’t really care where I go, I just want a room that can be a total retreat. Somewhere that’s mine.”

Ed’s eyes softened and he sat up, pressing a chaste kiss to the outer corner of her lips. “You’ll get it.”

She felt her cheeks go pink and averted her gaze shyly. “I know,” she said softly. And she did. Trusting Ed came as easily to her as breathing, after all. His hand came up to cup her cheek so their eyes met and she couldn’t help but laugh before leaning in again for a deeper kiss. This time, Ed decisively took charge, surging forward and slipping his hand into her hair, tugging at the rubber band holding her already mussed bun together. Becca moved with the insistent pulls, separating herself and giggling uncontrollably as she murmured, “Hold on, hold on, you’ll rip my hair out!  I’ll get it!”

True to her word (and despite Ed’s grumblings that he could do it, thank you very much), she did manage to get the ponytail out, slipping it onto her wrist as her hair tumbled down around her shoulders and Ed wasted no time entwining his fingers into the dark waves and pressing their mouths together again, gently pressing her backward until she was laying on her back in the grass. His free elbow supported his body weight as he leaned over her, their legs tangling beneath them as Becca allowed herself to get caught up in the moment, to ignore that they were likely days or less away from having to fight for their lives– for the world– against a nearly immortal enemy, and pretend for a few seconds that they were just two normal teenagers enjoying a night under the stars. After a few moments, he pulled away, grinned mischievously, and proceeded to drop a quick kiss on the spot right underneath her ear.

Becca shivered involuntarily, her hand jerking out to grip his elbow, which only made him chuckle, the breath he let out tickling the sensitive spot on her skin.

“Stop laughing at me,” she whined, pulling playfully on a strand of his hair that had fallen over his shoulder.

“Sorry,” he said, though it didn’t sound like he meant it. She couldn’t find it in herself to care all that much when he shifted to kiss her lips again.

“Hey, lovebirds! Get over here!”

And, of course, the peace couldn’t last forever.

“God-” Ed huffed as he pulled away, sitting up, “fucking- dammit.”

“It’s probably important,” Becca said. She pushed one more stray hair away from his face and pulled her own hair back up into its bun, a little neater than it had been.

“Better be,” he said as he took the cue from her and quickly braided his hair back for the first time in what felt like forever. Becca took a moment to admire him, finally looking more like himself with his coat and braid back, then took his hand when he offered and stood up. He squeezed her hand once, then sighed, “Let’s go see what they need.”

“Fullmetal! Get your ass down here! I saw your brother!” Darius called.

Ed faltered. Becca paused. They stared at each other for a brief moment and Becca was sure the look on Ed’s face– shock, joy, confusion, and all– was mirrored nearly identically on hers. Then, a bright, almost manic, laugh tore itself out of Ed’s throat and whooped, grabbing Becca by the shoulders and spinning her around with him. Becca squealed breathlessly, “Holy shit!” he exclaimed once they’d come to a stop, and she barely had a second to recover her balance before they were off, back toward the village and hopefully back toward Al.

Chapter 58: rantipole

Notes:

helloooooo my dears....

so funny story

writers block, grad school, work, internships, mental health, etc etc etc

its been a busy summer :)

i swear, i haven't forgotten masterpiece!!! this section gave me a fuck ton of trouble for some reason and obviously as shown above i've been a little busy and tired, plus when this started REALLY taking a while, i figured you guys deserve a little more from me in this update, so bam! almost 9k words. i hope you enjoy!

i'm really going to try to get back into a regular schedule but just given how life can get sometimes, it may take me a while to decide what works and settle into it, so please forgive me if its still hectic for a while after this.

in very unrelated news, i'm seriously considering commissioning one of my very talented artist friends for a drawing of becca, so let me know if there's any poses/scene ideas you want me to ask her to draw inspo from, and if you'd like me to post it once its done!

ily all so much for sticking with me and i hope you're all doing well after this long hiatus <3

rantipole (noun)- a wild, reckless young person or (verb)- to be wild and reckless or (adjective)- wild and reckless

Chapter Text

“Elric, why are you wearing that coat again?” Will asked as their hastily gathered team followed a dirt path into the forest surrounding the Ishvalan encampment. “I had hoped we left that at the bottom of the mines.”

“Um, because it makes me look cool and strong?” Ed tossed over his shoulder from where he and Becca had fallen in line with Darius, the one who had seen Al in the forest, at the front of the group. He’d told them that he’d been sent to fetch some firewood and had stumbled across him in a nearby clearing, but, as he claimed, he didn’t seem right– not reacting when the chimera entered the clearing, tried to wave him down, or called his name. It was undeniably odd, and, to Becca at least, a little concerning, considering Al was apparently able to black out, as they’d seen in the Devil’s Nest raid. Ed seemed to remember the seriousness of the situation only a second later, since he added, “And there’s a good chance we’re heading into our last battle. I want to be ready.”

That reminder sobered the whole group. Becca reached over, linking their hands together. “Darius, Heinkel, you can probably still escape the country. If you’d like,” she said. “This isn’t really your fight-”

Waving his arms, Greedling cut her off. “Hey now, only I get to say who stays and who goes!” 

Heinkel ignored him, scratching at his mustache as he pondered aloud, “Eh. You’re probably right that we could run, but I don’t really think we will. For one, we don’t exactly have anywhere else to go.”

“And my animal instincts are saying that this is where we need to be right now,” Darius said gruffly.

“You have animal instincts?” Will asked, making a face.

“Yeah, obviously! We’re part animal , aren’t we?”

“I think your instincts are lying to you if they’re telling you to stick around here,” Will said under his breath.

“Alright, why are you still here then, smart ass?” Heinkel fired back.

Becca glanced behind her to see her brother raising his hands defensively. “I’ve known Becca since she was born. I have fifteen years of trust in the fact that she’s too stubborn to go down without a fight. You all don’t. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t entrust two teenagers you met two weeks ago with your lives.” She felt something in her chest go warm at his faith in her and smiled privately to herself.

The pleasant warmth wasn’t even quashed when Heinkel said, “Yeah, their stubbornness actually doesn’t take more than a few hours to understand,” and Will barked out a sharp laugh.

“Speaking of, do you two want to try and get your bodies back to normal?” Ed asked curiously. “We met some other chimeras who were going to try and find a way to separate themselves from the animal and they should still be traveling with Al, so maybe they’ve made some progress.”

Heinkel and Darius shared a look between each other, then both shrugged. “Eh,” Heinkel said. “I hate to give any credit to the bastards who did this to us, but there are some advantages to being a chimera, and I kinda like having them.”

“Yeah, I don’t have a problem with my body as it is,” Darius agreed.

“Hell yeah, that’s what I’m talking about!” Greedling said, slapping Darius on the back in, dare she say, an attempt at an affectionate gesture. Darius wasn’t even jostled and simply rolled his eyes, which the homunculus ignored. “You two can stick with me after the Promised Day! The rest of you are still on your trial period.”

“Oh, how will we ever cope?” Ed said, smiling exasperatedly at Becca. She raised her eyebrows back with a smirk.

Before Greedling could pick up on his sarcasm and object, Becca opted to ask, “What about you, Greed? Why are you still here? I thought you wanted to get away from the other homunculi, not go right back into the lion’s den.”

Rather than snark right back at her, the homunculus faltered a little at her question, his confident demeanor escaping him for a moment– just a moment, though, and then he was back to his usual self, sneering over his shoulder and jeering, “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Becca blinked, staring after him with a small frown on her face. The only thing that got her moving again was Will bumping into her from behind, shooting her a concerned look that she shook off with a small, “Sorry. Got caught in my thoughts.”

Still, she clearly wasn’t the only one thrown by Greedling’s odd behavior and the tension in the air didn’t quite dissipate as they trooped deeper into the woods, the reminder of who they were searching for and of what else they might stumble upon sending them all into an uncomfortable, anticipatory silence, broken only when Heinkel stopped rather suddenly as they entered a clearing and Ed let out a small “Omph!” upon running into his broad back. He hesitantly peered around Heinkel, rubbing his nose from the impact, then froze. 

He took a few steps forward, hesitant, like he was approaching a frightened animal. “Al?”

“It’s good to see you’re alright, Brother,” Al said, not quite mechanically but definitely not sounding like himself. “I’ve been worried about you.”

Unnerved, Becca crept a little further away from the cover of the trees to get a look for herself, although her skin began to crawl at the sight. Al stood at the other end of the clearing, straight-backed and rigid. It looked like he was an actual suit of armor which… he was, technically. But Al wasn’t just a suit of armor. He was a child who stood with slouched posture and moved animatedly despite his metal body, who adored his big brother more than anyone else in the world. As soon as he’d seen Ed– hell, as soon as he’d heard rumors he was nearby– Al would have lept for joy and come running. He wouldn’t be standing sentry in the middle of the forest just a few miles and now just a few mere steps from his brother. When he spoke, monotone and much, much too cool, like they’d all been separated for a few hours rather than weeks, his voice sent a shiver down her spine and Becca could see from the stiffness in Ed’s shoulders that he was just as uneasy.

“I thought you were with Miles and the others,” Ed tried. “Where are they? Is everyone alright?”

Al shook his head, the movement much too clunky to be natural. “Well, there’s something I need to show you. Will you come with me for a second?”

“I-” Becca interjected, then flinched backward when Al’s head snapped towards her. She couldn’t help but feel that he was glaring at her for her interruption, but she pushed on, her voice a little higher. “I don’t know if it’s a good idea to go wandering around in these woods at night. We don’t know our way around. Maybe it would be safer to get a guide from the village.”

“Al, listen,” Ed started, reaching out to grab him by the shoulder when three things happened simultaneously:

Number one: “Get away from him, you idiots!” Greedling ordered, his words sounding strangled.

Number two: “Holy shit!” Will cried out and Becca whirled around just in time to see him and Darius catch the homunculus as he was about to keel over, hands clutching around his face.

Number three: A plethora of shadows exploded from within Al’s body, sharpening to points and shaking the earth. Ed was thrown away from Al and Becca just barely managed to dodge the hardened shadows to grab him by the hood of his coat to let him get his bearings.

“Oh, my God,” Becca whispered as the majority of the shadows slunk back to the empty space inside of Al’s armor, the red eyes she’d come to associate only with the homunculi opening and shining through the darkness, and a familiar voice echoing out. “So you really did go over to their side, Greed. And I heard you let that human take your body back.” The voice chuckled as Becca struggled to place where exactly she’d heard it before, who exactly this new homunculus was, and taunted, “Your soul is weak, isn’t it?” Al’s body shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh, well. All you are is another obstacle to be cut down.”

“Agh…” Greedling groaned from where he was still behind supported by Darius and Will. “It’s Pride . How did he find us?”

“A friend of yours?” Will asked.

“I wouldn’t say that,” he said, giving a resigned eye-roll. “More like my oldest brother.”

“What the hell?!” Ed barked, hopping to his feet. “How dare you disguise yourself as Al?!”

“Oh, don’t be mistaken, Fullmetal,” the homunculus, Pride, said, blasé. A few tendrils of darkness snaked up, lifted Al’s head and swirled just enough that Al’s soul bond, the red blood stark against gray iron, could be seen. Becca’s stomach turned upon seeing it– she’d assumed that the homunculus had been puppeting Al, but there was something horrifying about having it so casually confirmed, as if the homunculus had a right to forcefully take over Al’s body. “I’m not disguised at all.”

While revulsion pulsed through her body, though, Ed’s jaw clenched, hatred boiling in his eyes. Becca was disgusted by the misuse of Al’s body, but Ed was furious. “You- you bastard!”

Pride, however, didn’t seem bothered by either of their reactions. He manipulated Al’s body into a fighting stance, bending slightly toward the ground and pointing commandingly at Greedling. “First, I will take care of my traitorous brother,” he said, agonizingly calm. “And then the sacrifices will be coming with me.”

“Becca,” Will said quietly. “You two need to get back here.”

She turned, seeing that the other four had crept back together into a protective huddle. Something in her desperately wanted to grab Ed, grab the others, and make a run for it. But that would mean abandoning Al, and that was not going to happen. Not now, not ever. So instead, she shook her head, trying for a reassuring smile. “It’s alright, we’ve got this.”

“Kids, cut the crap-” Heinkel said roughly before Ed cut him off.

“They aren’t allowed to kill either of us or Al because they need us,” he said, tossing his coat away. “So Pride can’t fight at full strength, but we will. We can beat him.”

“That’s true,” Pride relented lightly. “I won’t kill you, but I might rip off a few more limbs.” The shadows spiked into action again, shooting towards them. Al’s body didn’t even move as they rolled out of the way, both going in different directions. Becca hoped they could split his attention only to realize just a tad too late that separating the way they had meant Ed had thrown himself in the direction of the Ishvalan village.

“Ed!” she shouted over the almost metallic shinks! of the shadows darting about as she leaped this way and that to avoid them as best she could, although a few snagged on her clothes, leaving them ripped at the edges, and one caught the skin of her shoulder. Adrenaline pumped through her, so at least she didn’t feel it, but the warmed of her blood had already begun to soak into her shirt at the point of the wound. She cupped her hands around her mouth. “We’ve got to stop him here!”

For a brief moment, Ed’s golden eyes flashed in her direction and she knew he’d understood. At the very least, they needed to weaken Pride enough that he’d retreat and leave Kanama alone. The earth shook again as Ed transmuted a large wall between himself and Pride’s tendrils, giving himself a second to regroup but sending Will, Greedling, and the chimeras stumbling. Darius and Heinkel tripped into a pair of trees. Becca was able to transmute two small walls of her own to at least stop them from falling into the fight before she touched her hands together to transmute a short, crude dagger out of one of the stones that had been loosened from the ground. Not that any of the walls they created did much good; Pride’s shadows sliced through Ed’s easily and both Will and Greedling sidestepped Becca’s in order to join the fight of their own volition. 

Will had transmuted his rings into the talons Becca remembered from months ago, grinning wildly, and Greedling laughed, a little taunting, as he asked, “Did you really think your little wall would stop him?”

“It was better than anything you’re coming up with!” Ed snarked back, then his eyes widened. “Look out!”

Just in time, the Ultimate Shield appeared on Greedling’s neck right as one of the shadows was about to make contact. Greedling barked out a laugh, thrusting his hands out as he extended his shield out to his fingers, sharpening them in the process. “That was close!” 

Will batted another tendril aside, twisting around and sinking into his own fighting position, the talons on his fingers extended. Ed clapped, turning his automail arm into a blade, and Becca raised her weapon against her chest. Pride’s various eyes surveyed them all boredly from various angles across the clearing.

“Oh, please don’t tell me I have to go through all the effort of capturing all of those innocents in the slums over there to make you cooperate,” he said.

“Damn, he really does know your weaknesses,” Greedling said out of the corner of his mouth.

“Believe it or not, most people actually don’t want the people who took them in and fed them to get murdered,” Ed said, annoyance obvious in his tone. “That is a very normal feeling. Still,” He clapped his hands together, then slammed them into the ground. “I can’t afford to lose every battle, can I?”

Blue alchemical light snaked up a nearby powerline and Becca suddenly realized what his plan was. If Pride operated in the shadows and they submerged everything into darkness-

“Bex!”

The powerline that had received the most powerful of the energy surge burst into a shower of sparks, coming down right towards her and Will. Becca touched her hands together, yanking her brother down to the ground and raising a small dome over their head until the crackling died down. When they emerged, the clearing had gone pitch black. Becca couldn’t see anything, but, in the first few careful steps she dared to take, she didn’t stagger onto any of Pride’s tendrils.

Becca breathed a sigh of relief. Pride likely wasn’t gone, but he was at least subdued.

Will grabbed her tightly before she could dart off again. “Don’t wander,” he hissed. “We’ll lose each other.”

“But if we can’t see, neither can those eyes,” Becca whispered back. “Come on, let’s find the others and regroup.” She grabbed his hand, tiptoeing through the darkness and waving through the air in front of her so they wouldn’t crash.

Of course, it didn’t do much good and she still ended up nearly running face first into a tree. At least it was the tree Darius and Heinkel had taken shelter behind. A second later, Greedling swore and thudded into the wood as well, and Ed’s voice emerged from the shadows. “I don’t think he’s gone.”

“No, he’s still here,” Greedling said darkly. “Did you notice how he didn’t move from right next to the shadow of the forest?”

“He really is only puppeting Al,” Becca realized. “But not totally hidden inside him– just a part. Like a finger puppet.”

Ed growled. “So his real body is still around here somewhere?”

Becca couldn’t help but shudder at the way Greedling confirmed, “Pride has his own vessel for traveling outdoors. We just need to find it and draw it out.”

“Finding it, huh?” Ed mumbled. He shuffled closer, brushing against Becca’s arm and alerting her to his exact location. He went past her, though, and towards the chimeras. “Seems like a job for animal instincts.”

It was decided that Heinkel would be the one to seek out Pride’s physical form given his apparently slightly superior senses of sight and smell, citing the fact that lions were nocturnal. Becca decided to take his word for it, a bit distracted by the more shocking revelation that Greedling dropped on them before sending Heinkel off: that Pride’s humanoid form was none other than Selim Bradley.

“The Fuhrer’s son?” Will said, aghast.

“Yeah, I guess that tracks,” Becca said, recalling how uncomfortable she’d been after interacting with the child at Bradley’s manor. She could practically feel the unnerved stare her brother leveled at her and clarified,  “Not in that it makes sense, but more it makes sense for how our lives tend to go.”

“Just don’t let yourself get caught off guard by him,” Greedling warned Heinkel, who grunted affirmingly. “Now shoo. Those lights in the village won’t stay off forever. The rest of us should retreat for the moment-”

“I need to try and get Al,” Ed said. “I haven’t heard him move.”

“No, you need to get out of here,” Darius said, putting a hand on Ed’s shoulder. He wasn’t unkind, but Becca was uncannily reminded of something almost parental about the firm sterness in Darius’ tone, and as much as she didn’t want to admit it, he had a point. “Your brother’s been through enough already. He can take care of himself for a little while longer.”

Though he clenched his jaw angrily, evidently, Ed also agreed on some level, since he swore under his breath, but mumbled out, “Alright. Fine. But what are we going to do about Pride? We can’t keep it dark forever and Heinkel probably can’t take out a homunculus on his own…”

“We’ll figure that out later,” Will said. “But at least he’s just as blind as us right now. Maybe the best plan is to try and get the Ishvalans to keep it dark while we strategize?”

The others continued to murmur, but Becca’s ears pricked up in Greedling’s direction as he shuffled around like he was pacing back and forth. Hell, for all she knew, he was doing exactly that. She bit her lip. “Greedling? Everything alright?”

“I just-” the homunculus answered, sounding irate. “I can’t figure how Pride knew where to find us. We just got here. Either someone had to know we were coming, or they’re tracking us somehow.”

“That’s not reassuring,” Will said under his breath.

Becca, however, lingered on that possibility. Tracking… she thought as she drew her shoulders up, suddenly feeling like she was being watched despite the darkness. How could they be-

She felt Darius jolt beside her and he shouted, “Get down!”

The rest of the group didn’t hesitate and followed the order just in time for a massive, round figure to catapult over their heads and take a bite out of the tree they’d claimed. Horror dawned on Becca and she instinctively reached for Ed like he was going to be swallowed up again by their attacker.

Gluttony.

Their tree fell over, luckily not crushing any of them, and Gluttony shrieked in delight at the chaos as they scattered. “I smell the alchemists! And Greed!”

“He smelled us?” Will said incredulously, somewhere on Becca’s left. “Why can’t you two have any normal enemies for once?”

“And I smell three people I don’t recognize,” Gluttony said, his high, child-like voice somehow becoming threatening in the oppressive darkness of the woods. Then they clearly heard him lick his lips with his massive tongue. Fear trickled down Becca’s spine. The homunculus giggled. “I think I’ll eat them.”

“Darius, you wanna deal with that?” came Greedling’s cloying voice from the right.

“Why the hell would I do that?” Darius demanded.

“Well, can’t you smell him? If you attack now, before he gets his bearings, you have a good chance of winning.”

“All my animal instincts are saying to run, but-!” the chimera said, like the words were being dragged out of him. “Augh, dammit! It’s time for me to man up! I’ll take him on!” Darius barrelled towards where they could hear Gluttony stumbling around and yelled triumphantly in the same moment they could hear a squishy thud and a screech. “I got him!”

“Don’t let him recover!” Greedling scolded.

“I can’t see him! Close combat is my only chance to get any hits in!” Darius retorted. “Oh, I think I-”

There was only a split second warning where Becca heard his arm whistle through the air and she ducked, just barely avoiding his hit. “Hey!” she squawked.

“Oops, sorry. Thought that shadow looked a little too scrawny.”

Becca glared at him, aware he couldn’t see her but needing to get it out of her system nonetheless. “They really didn’t give us any good options, huh?”  she noted, crossing her arms. “Pride will have the advantage with any light, but Gluttony will get us in the dark.”

“Yeah, uh,” Greedling said through gritted teeth. “I might have a solution for that. The prince says he can sense homunculi? Is that true?”

Ed’s hand flew to link with Becca’s and he squeezed, hard . She almost winced in pain, but the joy and hope flooding her system stamped out any discomfort. “Yes!” Ed exclaimed. “Yes, that’s true! And his ass owes us so much for all the food we’ve bought him that he has to get us out of this!”

“I resent that,” Ling’s voice said before there was a swish of a sword being drawn and slicing through the air and Gluttony yelped in pain from a few feet away. Becca wheeled back, dragging Ed with her and bumping into Will, but at least getting all three of them out of the way as Ling, back in control of his body, and Darius took turns jabbing at the homunculus, leaving Gluttony to stagger blindly trying to escape them.

“This isn’t fair! I can’t see you and I’m getting so hungry!” he whined, something in his voice deepening disturbingly (and familiarly). There was a wet squelch Becca recognized as the mouth on his stomach opening– the one that had swallowed them last time– and he continued, “So I think I’m just going to eat you whole!”

“That’s not good,” Ed said faintly.

“Get out of the way!” she barked.

Before Gluttony could charge them, though, another sharp whistling rang through the air, then a rather gross squish. Gluttony wailed out in pain and for a brief moment, red lightning lit up the immediate area around them and they could see how his shadowy form had been precisely sliced right down the middle.

“Who on Earth-?” Will said quietly.

“At least they’re not attacking us,” Becca replied, her eyes glued to Gluttony’s form as he healed.

“Are you sure it’s not someone else we’ll have to fight after?” Ed asked.

A few feet away, bright white teeth illuminated red, Ling grinned. “No way. I recognize that feeling.” He got to his feet, hands on his hips defiantly, and said, “I’m glad to see you’re safe.”

A figure dropped down in front of them, landing atop Gluttony and stabbing through his head with an automail blade, then jumping to land gracefully on her feet. “What is she doing here?” Becca breathed as the warrior drew herself back up to her full height, red and white mask firmly in place.

Ling raised one fist in a salute of respect, greeting his disciple enthusiastically. “I’ve been waiting for you to catch up to us, Lan Fan!”

“My prince,” Lan Fan said, bowing once before elbowing back once again as Gluttony leapt at her from behind. The automail blade speared through the homunculus’ skull again and he shrieked.

“I just want to eat you!”

The prince cackled in delight, raising his sword and charging into the fight. Lan Fan protested, but Ling waved her off. “Fight now!” he ordered. “We’ll talk later!”

“The rest of you need to come with me.”

Becca jumped at the new voice, tripping in the darkness, and slammed into Will, who screeched in terror. She batted gently at him over her shoulder, squinting. “Foo?”

In lieu of a real answer, the older man just said, “Long time, no see.”

“How did you find us?!” Ed demanded.

“Lan Fan and I have been hiding out in your Central City for a while now, monitoring the situation. We detected several large energy sources moving out here and came to investigate. Two of them are fighting nearby, aren’t they?” Foo said.

“Yup, that would be Greedling and Gluttony,” Will replied.

“But there’s another lingering in the forest-”

“Pride,” Becca affirmed.

“My buddy is taking care of him,” Darius said, thumbing his chest proudly.

“But- but I can sense that the most powerful one is still in the town?”

Ed rubbed his temples. “Yeah, that’s my dad. Ignore him, he’s not a threat. We’ve just got to take care of the homunculi before they get to Kanama.”

Foo grunted in assent. “We can leave Gluttony to Lan Fan.”

“Should she really be fighting?” Becca asked doubtfully, glancing back over to where Lan Fan and Greedling continued to trade blows with Gluttony, their acrobatics keeping them safely out of the homunculi’s reach at the cost of like a lot of energy, especially for Lan Fan. “She got her automail, what, a few months ago? It took Ed a year and that was unheard of.”

“Don’t worry about her. She knows she sometimes has to fight through pain in a position such as ours,” Foo said, waving off her concern, then his tone lightened. “And besides, she knows if she needs a quick solution, she can-”

“Duck!” Ling’s voice called out joyfully from the darkness. For a brief moment, Ed’s eyes met hers and Becca knew the same thought crossed both of their minds: if Ling sounded that excited about something, you did as he said. So their group obeyed and hit the dirt a second before an explosion rocked the earth. 

She caught Ed making a displeased face in the red light of the homunculus healing, groaning, and she smirked, remembering how he’d been on the receiving end of those explosions in Rush Valley. “Yeah, that’s definitely Lan Fan.” He perked up as they staggered back to their feet, though, and turned to Foo. “Do you have some of those too?!”

The man furrowed his brow. “Of course. We both carry tear gas, flares, flash bombs…”

Becca realized rather suddenly that she could see Ed moving again, silhouetted against a dim golden light. She peered over his shoulder , towards Kanama, and winced. “The lights are coming back on. Pride’s going to have more shadows to work from.”

“It’s alright,” Ed said, pushing his hair out of his face. “I have a plan to deal with Pride.” There was a shout from where Heinkel had disappeared, and then the smoke started to rise. Ed paled. “Shit! Come on, let’s go!”

By the time they reached the clearing where they’d left Al’s body, where the battle with Pride had apparently moved, the forest around them was ablaze. Tthe villagers from Kanama who had come to investigate the forest were scrambling backwards, shouting to bring water, whilst Heinkel clutched his bloody arm, yowling in pain from somewhere within the smoke. Becca coughed as she waved smoke away from her face, almost tripping over a fallen lantern– probably, she thought absently, the cause of the fire. A few of the townspeople tried to stop them, but they pushed forward. Ed grabbed Becca by the arm, stopping her in place.

“I’m going to take Pride on,” he said decisively. “My automail can protect me, and I’ll hopefully be able to distract him long enough that the rest of you can get Al and Heinkel out of there when Foo uses his bomb.”

In the past, she probably would have argued. Would have wanted to be right by his side. But she trusted him and today, Becca nodded quickly, squeezed his hand, and took off, beckoning Will and Darius along with her as they darted deeper into the woods. She couldn’t see or hear much of Ed’s confrontation with Pride; the smoke was successfully keeping them obscure but for a few dulled shouts and thuds, but she knew the signal.

Ed transmuted the smoke away in the same moment that Foo leaped onto Al’s shoulders, stuffing a lit flash bomb into a chink in the armor. Pride’s shadows faded to dust and Al began to tip backward, no longer held up by the homunculus inside him. “Go!” Becca shouted over the echoing noise of the bomb. She slid underneath Al’s armor, catching him before he hit the ground, but had to grit her teeth as she collapsed to her knees under his weight. Luckily, Will swooped in to take some of the burden and the two siblings were able to drag him out of the way. Darius, carrying a protesting Heinkel over his shoulder, followed right behind, and even Greedling, Lan Fan, and Gluttony tumbled through the trees, drawn by the noise. Standing in the middle of it all was Selim Bradley– no, Pride . The giggly little boy facade that they’d seen in the fuhrer’s mansion was gone, replaced by a coldy curious homunculus. The child’s face held a much older countenance, seeming almost disturbingly ancient.

Finally, though, all of the combatants had been gathered together and Becca set Al down gently, then sank into a fighting stance as Ed bounded over, putting himself between their entire crew and the homunculi. Becca could practically hear the proud smirk in his voice as he said, “Let’s wrap this up.” She had to hide a smile of her own– for the first time, it felt like maybe they could have the upper hand in a fight against the enemy.

Which, of course, meant that it couldn’t last.

“It’s not fair, Pride,” Gluttony whimpered. Almost pouting, he stuck one thumb in his mouth. “That girl and Greed can find me in the dark…”

“Can they, now?” Pride said measuredly, surveying all of them with an imposing gaze, which then flickered back to Gluttony, when he posed his own question. “How many times have you died, Gluttony? You’re looking a little weak.”

A chill went down Becca’s spine and she stepped back, pulling Ed with her by his jacket as Gluttony answered around his thumb, “Lotsa times by now. But it’s okay, I’ll just ask Father to fix me up.”

“Ah, but you see, I’ve also taken a bit of a beating.” Pride’s shadows had begun to elongate again, stretching in thin tendrils towards Gluttony, who glanced apprehensively down at his feet, then back up at his sibling, wide-eyed. Pride smiled sweetly, but the expression didn’t make it to his eyes. The shadows only got closer, giant mouths opening. “I think it would be far wiser if we combined our efforts.”

“P- Pride, don’t- you don’t have to-” Gluttony started to shake and the others behind her shuffled uncomfortably. Becca took another step back, bumping into Will; then jumped, nearly knocking him over as Pride’s shadows lunged and the mouth snapped shut. Her stomach dropped as she realized what happened. Gluttony had just enough time to look down at where the shadows had cut him off around his middle and let out a weak, “Don’t eat me…” before he started disintegrating into dust. Becca’s hand came up to cover her mouth and she felt like she was going to be sick at the sight. At the cruelty . Gluttony had been their enemy, sure, but Pride was supposedly his brother and he had killed him– really killed him!– without a second thought. And for what? The meager remains of his Philosopher’s Stone? Will’s grip tightened on her, coming to hold her by the shoulders and largely holding her up as she fought against the bile that threatened to rise in her throat.

Greedling swore behind her. “That little shit ate his own kin!”

From the center of the clearing, Pride simply licked his lips like Selim Bradley was just enjoying a delicious dessert prepared by the staff at his manor. His violet eyes glinted up at them. “It was a necessary sacrifice. Now I can smell you all very easily.” he said contentedly. “Although the monster appetite will probably kick in soon. I suppose I should eat something before that happens-”

The homunculus paused rather suddenly in his taunting and stiffened. “Oh? But I smell someone new…” He pivoted, turning around to the side of the clearing nearest to Kanama where the trees obscured a tall figure Becca hadn’t noticed during the commotion. “Is that really you, Hohenheim?”

His cover blown, Hohenheim stepped into the light, the still-burning fires glinting off of his glasses. He opened his mouth to say something, but the effect was very much ruined when Ed shouted at him, “Agh! What are you doing here, bastard?!”

The man rolled his eyes up to the sky, heaving a heavy sigh. “I came to help, Edward.”

Ed looked back at Becca, his eyes shining with indecision. With Pride taking on Gluttony’s ability to find them even if his sight was taken away, they would surely be dead in minutes. And yet, asking his father for help might just have the same effect on Ed.

“I’ve got it. Ling, let Greed take back over and use the Ultimate Shield. Hold his attention while we try to revive Al,” she said, shoving them both towards Pride. Fighting was something Ed knew how to do. Something to focus on. And he did, jumping at Pride and successfully catching him off guard for a split second before the homunculus could react and bat him away with a shadow. Greedling shifted as the homunculus took control again, then prompted the Ultimate Shield to make its way up his arms. Lan Fan nearly jumped after him before Becca grabbed her wrist and begged, “Wait!”

“What are you doing?” she protested, yanking against Becca’s grip even as it caused her to flinch in pain. “I need to go help the prince!”

“Hell no! Lan Fan, your arm-”

“My actions are not your concern!” the girl said with finality and one final pull, freeing herself and leaping into the fight. 

“Lan Fan!” But the warrior had vanished into the shadows, forcing Becca to move on for the moment by pointing at Hohenheim, then Will. “You two help Al. Get him up and moving again.”

“How am I supposed to do that?” Will fretted.

“You aren’t supposed to,” she said under her breath. “ He’s the first alchemist in Amestris. He can fix it. You are going to keep him focused on Al until he’s awake and can try to talk some sense into Ed about accepting their dad’s help. It is not my place to get involved in their relationship but I don’t think we’re making it through this without all of us working together. All of us.”

Will’s mouth fell into a small oh shape and he nodded, setting his jaw firmly, then darted over to where Hohenheim had already bent down next to Al’s prone form, pointing back towards the woods and moving to start dragging Al’s body towards the relative safety of the treeline. Becca watched him swiftly redirect Hohenheim’s wandering attention from the fight happening between his eldest son and the powered-up homunculus with a few soft words, then, satisfied, turned her attention to Foo and Darius. “Darius, stay with Heinkel. Foo, watch out for Lan Fan.”

“I need to watch out for the prince!”

“I can still fight!”

“We don’t have time to argue, just trust me on this!” Becca said, perhaps a bit harshly. “Lan Fan is already looking out for the prince, and the prince has Greed’s Ultimate Shield! She needs someone watching her back in case she goes down and leaves Ling unguarded! And Heinkel, you are injured and you probably pissed Pride off! He’s going to kill you if he gets the chance! Darius, he needs you more than we do right now!” She took a deep breath and tried to reassure them. “Ed and I can’t be touched because we’re their ‘sacrifices’, and Greedling has the shield. The three of us are the best chance to at least hold him back.”

Incredibly reluctantly, they shared an uneasy look but backed off. For her part, Becca turned towards the fight, rolled up her sleeves, and leapt towards one of Pride’s many sets of sharp teeth, intercepting an attack meant for Lan Fan. Ling’s bodyguard had already started to lag– a prolonged fight with an immortal enemy would wear anyone out and her new (probably not broken in enough) automail couldn’t be helping.

“Stop that!” the girl demanded, obviously frustrated behind her mask.

“You’re not recovered enough for this!” Becca tried diplomatically. “You need to take care of yourself first-”

Greedling and Ed, both shouting across the battlefield, were slightly less diplomatic.

“Don’t be an idiot!”

“Yeah, Greed can take care of himself!”

“I am not here for any of you !” Lan Fan argued. “I am here to serve the young lord-”

“Who’s telling me right now that we’re going to need you ready to fight later. Go!”

Reluctantly, Lan Fan lowered her arms from their defensive fighting position and took a few steps towards the edge of the clearing, Becca trailing behind her, unnoticed by the homunculus. “I won’t fight,” she said through gritted teeth. “But I’m not leaving the young lord alone. We already lost him once and I will not let it happen again.” Her eyes, the only part of her face visible in the darkness, flicked over to where the chimeras and Foo were watching the fight, Heinkel leaning heavily on Darius, then towards Becca. “They need to get out of here. At least get out of that thing’s way. Tell my grandfather that I will watch over the prince– make sure he goes with you.”

“I will,” she agreed solemnly.

Lan Fan nodded in acknowledgement, then melted into the shadows. Becca made brief eye contact with Ed and jerked her head back towards Al and Hohenheim. He nodded resolutely, and Becca ducked out of the fight, making a run for the rest of the group. “We’re leaving!” she called out. “Come on!”

Will said something to Hohenheim and the two men stood, cradling Al’s still limp body between them. Heinkel, Darius, and Foo glared at her, but when she glared right back, they backed down. Had anyone been around to see, she was sure their flight would have been a bizarre sight– two chimeras, a Xingese guard, a Xerxian, two State Alchemists, and a suit of armor. But nevertheless, they bounded back towards Kanama, out of Pride’s sight and, with any luck, out of danger.

“I think he’s almost back to us,” Hohenheim said, his voice echoing around Al’s chest as he fiddled around with his armor. Becca and Will, arms crossed, stood behind him while Foo kept watch and Darius began tending to Heinkel’s wounds. Hohenheim pulled himself out, shaking his head like a wet dog, then started tapping insistently on the blood seal, murmuring his son’s name. Becca flinched every time his fingers hit the blood, but she said nothing, just silently thanked the universe that Ed wasn’t here to see it.

For a few seconds, it seemed like whatever Hohenheim had done hadn’t worked. Then Al began to shift and shudder and finally mumbled out, “Dad?”

“Al!” Becca chirped excitedly.

“Welcome back, Alphonse,” Hohenheim said.

“What- what happened? Where am I?” Al asked. “I- I had something I needed to- Oh! Dad, Becca, where’s Brother? Selim Bradley is a-”

“Homunculus, we know,” Becca interrupted, putting a calming hand on his shoulder. “It’s alright.”

Under her hand, she felt Al cringe, his hands coming up to grip at his chestplate. “Ugh. I feel dirty. That thing was inside me .”

“This is no time for chatting!” Heinkel groaned, holding one of the wounds on his chest. “We’ve gotta figure out what to do about that shadow monster!”

Al looked around at the gathered group. “Pride? What happened?”

“Pride ate Gluttony so now he’s basically untouchable,” Becca said in a hushed voice. “If we shut off the lights again, he can smell us. Ed and Greedling are trying to hold him off, but I don’t know how long they can deal with the power of two homunculi before they start to get tired.”

“Oh,” Al said quietly, looking down at his lap. He seemed to be contemplating his metal gloves, folded between his legs, and she could sense the self-loathing radiating off of him.

The adults around them kept chattering, debating how best to handle Pride without being able to blind him again, but Becca ignored them in favor of kneeling down next to Al and wrapping her arms around him. Automatically, his arms came up to embrace her back. Despite the chill from the metal, Becca couldn’t help but melt into the hug. “I’m glad you’re okay, Al, and Ed’s going to be ecstatic. We were really worried about you.”

Al looked down at her and she reached to trace a new scratch on his helmet as he asked, “Where is Ed? Where’s Pride?”

Becca opened her mouth to reply, but she was cut off by a loud crash as a tree nearby collapsed to the ground. She and Alphonse both winced. “I’m assuming that’s them.”

“I’ve gotta stop them,” Al said, voice uncharacteristically grim.

Her blood froze in her veins and Becca choked out, “You? No, no, no-”

“Becca, listen to me,” he said sternly. “I have an idea, but it has to be me. And I need you to do something for me.”

“Yeah?”

“I need you to keep my brother from killing anyone. Especially my dad.”

She drew in a long breath, then let it out, then dropped her forehead onto his chest plate. “You’re asking a lot of me, buddy.”

For the first time in months, though, Becca heard Al’s little giggle and she knew she’d do anything in her power to keep him that happy. “I know. I’m sorry,” he said, still laughing. She held up her first and he bumped his against it, and then, “Let’s do this.” He looked over Becca’s shoulder to Hohenheim. “Dad, you’re a pretty skilled alchemist, right?”

While the majority of the group decided to go back and face Pride, Will volunteered to run back to the Ishvalans and make sure they didn’t wander too close to the conflict. It was decided that Heinkel and Mr. Foo should go with him to get Heinkel proper medical attention. Some part of Becca wanted to go with them so she wouldn’t have to see Al’s plan through, but she pasted her best impression of an encouraging smile on her face when he passed her and said nothing, just nodding when he asked if she was alright. She doubted the smile was convincing enough to warrant how Al perked up at her acknowledgement. His plan made sense, she told herself firmly, trying to squash down the little voice in the back of her head screaming that it wasn’t fair that he had to make the plan in the first place.

War isn’t fair, Rebecca, her father had told her, leaning over her at the desk in the front room. The military isn’t fair. Your life, the lives of your comrades, will never be fair. Learn that now and don’t bother wishing otherwise.

Hohenheim, however, didn’t seem perturbed by what was about to unfold. After Al quietly stepped off the path and back into the shadows, Hohenheim loitered into the clearing, Darius flanking him and Becca a few steps behind. Pride growled his name and the man simply replied, “Yup. The hero always makes a dramatic entrance.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Becca saw Ed give a truly impressive eyeroll while Pride laughed derisively. “Hero?” he said. “Does that mean you plan on defeating me?”

“Oh, not at all. That would be impossible,” Hohenheim chuckled. “I’m not brave enough to fight you anyway.”

Becca shifted to the left, drawing Pride’s attention to her. Perfect, she couldn’t help but think. Al had gone to the right. The tendrils crept a little closer to her and Hohenheim, a little hesitant. Pride must have been suspicious, but it didn’t seem like he knew exactly what he was being redirected from.

Good.

Hohenheim went one step too far and Pride’s sharpened shadows twitched towards him. Hohenheim didn’t flinch– he didn’t have to since Al leapt out at that moment, lunging for the homunculus, and Pride was forced to pivot and defend himself, wrapping the armor up and freezing him in place. Even though she knew it was coming, Becca couldn’t help but cringe. Ed shouted his brother’s name, first in joy, then in anger as Al was brought to his knees. “Let him go, you bastard!”

“Hm, striking when my guard is down? That’s almost pitiful,” Pride said coolly, glancing around at the fighters scattered around the clearing. “I know you have flashbombs for if I extend my line too far, but you’ve just handed me a hostage.” He grinned, a sharp-toothed, sacharrine little thing, and one of his tendrils tugged Al’s helmet off by the plume, exposing his blood seal. A tiny hand came up and mimicked Ed’s typical two taps of comfort on Al’s chest.

Becca could see Ed nearly spring into action at that until Hohenheim stepped forward, his voice taking on a chilling tone. “Don’t you dare mock my sons.”

Right on cue, the earth exploded underneath them.

Following the plan, Becca made a break for it towards Ed and Greedling. Pride cried out in shock and she knew Al had grabbed him, but she forced herself not to look. Dodging the spires rolling towards the center of the clearing, she grabbed Ed’s arm, then Greedling’s, yanking both of them out of the way. 

“What the hell are you doing?!” Greedling demanded.

“We’ll explain later!” Becca responded, hurrying them along.

Behind them, Pride howled, “Hohenheim!” right before the sounds of the transmutation finally went silent. Becca swallowed, breathing hard, and slowly let go of the boys. She turned around, taking in the reality of what they’d just done. A giant earthen dome, entirely sealed with dust remnants still tumbling off of it. Hohenheim stood a handful of meters away, silhouetted against the sky, his face a blank mask.

Darius was the first to approach him, laying a hand on his shoulder and solemnly stating, “That thing’s pretty big. At least your boy has some wiggle room.”

Horror dawned on Ed’s face and he whirled around, searching frantically around the group before setting his gaze on the dome. “What the fuck , Hohenheim?!” he said, fury blooming. “You trapped him in there with that- that thing? Your own son?”

“It was Al’s idea, and it was smart,” Hohenheim said, too calm. “We can’t defeat Pride as he is now, and if we kept fighting, he would have started killing innocents. It’s safer by far to imprison him until we have a more permanent way to deal with him.”

Ed blanched. “But-!”

“Al said,” the man continued over him, golden eyes glinting with something like respect, “and I quote, ‘If you tell my brother, he won’t let us go through with this plan. But it’s the best one we’ve got’. He was right. We needed to keep him as close to the center as possible, and Al is the only one who could survive getting that close. We needed someone who could put themselves in the position to be trapped alongside Pride. Al knew he was the only one who could. He’s the reason we all survived today.” Ed opened his mouth to say something, then shut it, begrudgingly backing off. Hohenheim clapped his hands, sliding into his usual, much too casual persona once again, and suggested, “Now, we ought to make sure we get all these fires out. If a forest fire starts, Al will be roasted alive!”

“I’m sorry,” Becca said as she approached Ed after they’d managed to set up camp on the rim of the new crater. He’d sat down, leaned against a large stone, and was staring intently at the dome like he could burn an escape hole for Al with his eyes. Her approach startled him out of his reverie and he frowned, blinking up at her.

“For what?”

“I knew what Al wanted to do and I couldn’t talk him out of it. Maybe we should have tried to come up with something else, but-”

“Bex,” he cut her off, smiling sadly. “It’s not your fault.”

“But I-”

“You think I don’t know better than anyone that if Al can be stupidly self-sacrificing sometimes? That if he sets his mind to something, he’s going to do it, come hell or high water?”

A small smile cracked over Becca’s face. “Wonder where he picked that up from.”

“Shut up,” he said, though there was no heat to it. He stood, brushing some dirt off of his pants, and offered her his hand. “Come on. Maybe your brother brought something good from the Ishvalans for dinner.”

“Has to be better than dried meat and stale bread,” Becca noted as she allowed herself to be pulled back towards camp.

As it turned out, no one but Hohenheim had tucked into dinner yet due to the fact that Greedling had disappeared. The others had spread out to look for any sign of him, but after a while, Becca was forced to suggest that perhaps the homunculu, or prince, or whoever was in control, didn’t want to be found. Lan Fan and Foo were unhappy at this conclusion.

“Clearly the stupid bastard tried to not leave any clues,” Ed argued as they regathered around their small fire. 

“I don’t know why the young lord would run off at a time like this, though,” Lan Fan fretted to herself.

Foo nodded. “Indeed, he knows better.”

Becca refrained from reminding her that Ling had a habit of sneaking off, regardless of the circumstances, but shared an exasperated look with Ed. Still, she tried to comfort them by saying, “It must have been Greed then, which makes sense. I assume being in control for the whole fight might have left Ling pretty tired.”

“I’m sure he’ll be back,” Darius said kindly.

“Yeah, maybe he just needed to burn off some steam,” Heinkel put forward. “That was one hell of a family reunion.”

“I think I would need to go punch something that couldn’t punch back after that too,” Will said with a shrug. “You know what, I basically did do exactly that.”

“We can start worrying if he’s not back by tomorrow,” Hohenheim said, piling his second helping of food onto his plate. “For now, the people of Kanama sent us some lovely tagine and rice, and if you lot don’t eat it then I will.”

Reluctantly, they all sat down and started dishing out their own helpings, although the energy remained low-spirited for the rest of the night. Shockingly, Becca thought, it wasn’t exactly easy to laugh and joke when they knew Al was trapped with a dangerous homunculus just a stone’s throw away. Bellies full but still subdued, they cleaned up and spread out their collection of sleeping bags, extra blankets, and makeshift pillows as the sun started going down. Becca set up her and Ed’s usual spot for the night while he scooted hopefully up to the dirt wall, speaking in a low voice and smiling earnestly for the first time in hours when Al said something back. For a moment, she just sat back and watched as life seemed to return to Ed bit by bit just speaking with his brother now that he was lucid.

“Hey,” Will said behind her, playfully kicking her lower back. “Can you stop being painfully in love? It’s making those of us who aren’t legally entitled to be with our partner all the time feel lonely.”

Becca flopped her head backward, sticking her tongue out at him. “I’m not- we aren’t- what do you mean, ‘in love’?”

Her brother raised his hands innocently in surrender. He bent down to her level, balancing on the balls of his feet. “I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m just observing. And even a blind, deaf, and mute person could observe that you two are in love.”

She could feel a blush creeping from her cheeks up to her ears and down to her neck, then shoved him sideways, sending him tumbling into the dirt. “Go observe somewhere else.”

Teasing mood unaffected (and apparently buoyed) by her reaction, Will just burst out laughing, dusting himself off as he got back to his feet. “I can’t help that I’ll still see it. It’s visible anytime you’re in my line of sight!”

“Go away! Go get some clean water or something!”

Still chortling as he walked away, Will started to whistle Louisa’s lullaby and Becca was able to relax again, closing her eyes until the whistling had faded and she felt someone slide up next to her.

“What was he talking about?” Ed asked curiously. At least he wasn’t suspicious anymore, Becca thought as she pondered how to answer.

“Nothing,” she settled on, scooting closer to Ed so she could lay her head on his shoulder. “How’s Al holding up?”

Chapter 59: phosphenes

Notes:

i'm alive, my dears!!!!!!

(shocking)

bitch call me jason todd bc this me rising from the FUCKING grave

i am SO sorry that this took so long. i don't have any excuse other than... busy. but the good news is that i'm graduating this semester, so i'm kind of chilling, AND we're finally getting out of that awkward in-between area of major story points. in all honesty, i struggled a lot with just how to make this all sound interesting, so enjoy some fluffy ed/becca content, some nice family vibes, and just enough plot progression. i do have a couple of announcements if you would like to read them, but i totally get it if you just want to move on to the story at this point in waiting.

1) spotify playlists! i have created a just becca playlist, an ed and becca playlist, and a just ed playlist. feel free to check those out and drop any suggestions for any of those three in the comments!

2) i am now on tumblr! come chat with me @howdoyouget !

3) i have also started a bookstagram account, so if you're interested in what i read outside of fics, you can drop a follow there, @howdoyougetbooks :)

(also PLEASE let me know if any of the links don't work, i've never used links in ao3 before lol)

even while i've been gone, i've read every single one of your comments and seen every single kudos and they have all genuinely lifted my spirits whenever i see them. i appreciate all of you so much and i hope that you've been doing well these last couple months xoxo.

n e ways, so sorry so sorry, you all have waited long enough, let's get onto the story.

phosphenes (noun)- the stars and colors you see when you rub your eyes

Chapter Text

Becca stumbled off the bedroll in the morning clutching her head. The sun had yet to rise and she hoped against hope that maybe she just hadn’t eaten or drank enough the day before, but something in her gut told her that was not the case. So instead, she just had to take a few deep breaths, trying to steady herself against the stone dome.

“Becca, is that you?” came Al’s voice from the other side of the rock. “Are you alright?”

“Peachy,” she murmured, sinking to her knees. She heard the creaks that came with Al’s movement as he settled opposite her, then went silent. He sat without saying anything, but Becca could practically see the familiar patient posture that he always used when he knew he didn’t have to push– she would tell him in her own time. And she did. Rubbing at her temples, she said, “Headache.”

“Oh,” came the reply, noticeably quieter. “Sorry.”

She shook her head despite the fact that he couldn’t see it. “Not your fault. How’s it going in there?”

“As well as it can be,” Al said, sounding a bit amused. “Selim has commandeered my helmet, but he’s just been hitting it with a stick, so I didn’t argue about it.”

For the first time, Becca noticed the irregular clang of wood on metal echoing inside the dome. She made a face. “Al, did you know that I think you’re a saint? Has he been doing that all night?”

“Yeah, I guess even homunculi act like little kids sometimes,” Al said nonchalantly. “I don’t mind. Ed and I were pretty noisy as kids too.”

“Would have driven me insane,” Becca replied. A few more sharp clangs later she repeated, “ Insane.

While she jabbed at the sound, as she leaned back against the stone, the muffled rhythm of Pride banging on the helmet did provide just enough distraction from the pounding in her head for Becca to doze a bit longer. For the time being, the camp stayed quiet, broken only by the crackling remnants of their (strictly controlled) fire. Vaguely, she recognized the gentle padding of feet as the others began to wake and shuffle about in preparation for the day, but she didn’t feel the need to lift her eyelids. People were watching her back. 

She wasn’t sure how much time had passed, only that the sun had finally peeked over the treetops when someone called Darius’ name in alarm, startling her out of her rest and back up onto her feet. At the same time, the man growled, “Jelso? Zampano? What the hell?!”

“Did Kimblee send you to finish us off?!” another voice demanded.

“I quit working for Kimblee months ago, assholes!”

Blinking the remnants of sleep out of her eyes, Becca tried to take in the scene in front of her, eyes floating from body to body as she struggled to make sense of it. Everyone had shot to wakefulness at Darius’ shout, Ed and Will falling into defensive positions on instinct. Hohenheim was sitting up, not looking overly concerned but clearly studying the two groups curiously, with Lan Fan and Fu furrowing their brows confusedly. Both Darius and Heinkel were right in the face of two other men, whom Becca recognized but couldn’t place. Behind them, though, stood two familiar faces. Becca’s shoulders untensed and she crossed the short distance between Al’s dome and the rest of the crew, coming to a stop at Ed’s right shoulder.

“Dr. Marcoh!” Ed said, his hands falling back to his sides as she approached. His face soured a bit as he glanced over the doctor’s shoulder. “And Scar. What are you guys doing here?”

“Hello, Edward. Rebecca.” Marcoh gave the chimeras (and that’s where Becca recognized the other men from! They were the men from up north!) a wary look. “It seems like all of us need to talk.”

And talk they did. Becca primarily sat and listened, squished between Ed and Will on a log, but occasionally added in her commentary. The two groups talked over everything : all that they’d learned, all that they’d assumed, and all that they’d planned. As they worked, Hohenheim remarked, “Even if he’s calling himself ‘Father’ these days, he’s still the Dwarf in the flask I knew. If we destroy his container, he’ll likely die, and the souls of Xerxes inside of him will finally be free.”

Over the course of the next few hours, two plans merged into one, starting with sending Fu into Central City for recon. Ideally, Ling’s bodyguard would be able to suss out what Colonel Mustang had been up to in their absence, as well as if they could get to him in time for the upcoming fight. Nobody mentioned it, but Becca suspected they all sensed he’d likely take a detour or two to search for the prince himself.

Those hunches were basically confirmed when he insisted on going alone. “I am the only one of us that the enemy does not already know,” the old man had said when Hohenheim had questioned whether he’d be alright on his own. He’d departed shortly thereafter, leaving the remaining members of the party to begin breaking down their camp.

Ed pulled Becca to the side once they all dispersed, a question already halfway out of his mouth before she cut him off.

“I’ve got a headache,” she admitted begrudgingly.

His face fell, one hand coming up to brush some of her hair back. “Bex…”

“I know, it’s terrible timing,” she said, wincing. “But I can power through.”

“You don’t have to-” Edward protested.

“Right now, I have to power through.” Becca ran her thumb over his cheekbone. “The Promised Day is coming, Ed. Whether we like it or not. I won’t let you go in and fight alone, not this time.”

“Becca, I’m not going to stop you, and I don’t want to argue about it. You just know I worry about you when you get like this,” Ed said gently. “You aren’t always… yourself.”

She remembered her last episode in Gluttony’s stomach, a hint of shame bubbling up in her stomach. “I know. But… well, it’s weird to say, but I feel like I’m in a better place now than I have been in a long time. I’ve been involved in this mess for two years now. I have to see it through.”

“Of course,” he said, lips sliding into a sharp grin. “Retirement was fun while it lasted, right?”

Becca returned his smile with a matching one of her own. “Let’s say Fullmetal and Illusion are temporarily back in action.”

Ed’s eyes softened. “Temporarily?”

She nodded quickly, her cheeks going slightly pink. “Temporarily.”

For a moment, he just looked her up and down, scanning her face. Then he whooped loudly, wrapping his arms around Becca’s waist and hoisting her off the ground. She let out a laugh, forgetting the pain in her head for a moment as Ed gleefully spun both of them around, then pressed his lips to hers. “Let’s do this.”

“And then get on with our lives,” Becca agreed.

Ed chuckled and she couldn’t help but give him another chaste kiss. As she pulled back, he opened his mouth like he was going to say something else, then seemed to decide against it. “Come on,” he said instead. “Mustang’s probably already started blowing up the city.”

Despite everything, Becca’s heart fluttered and she reached out as he turned away, lacing their fingers together as they rejoined the rest of the team.

“I know you said you thought Mustang was already blowing things up,” Becca said, eyes narrowing at the Central City skyline over the horizon, currently hosting a distinctive trail of smoke curling upwards into the otherwise cloudless blue sky. “But this seems a little bit on the nose.”

“I didn’t mean literally!” Ed defended. 

Becca put her hands up, palms flat, and teased, “I’m not accusing, just wondering if you know something I don’t.”

“The sirens are going too,” Lan Fan observed, perched above the rest of them on a particularly thick tree branch.

“They’re really pulling out all the stops, huh?” one of the new chimeras, the man Becca wanted to say had introduced himself as Zampano, said with a frown.

Running his fingers through his bangs, Ed let out a plaintive sigh.“Maybe with all of that, it would be better to move forward with the plan. We can use the commotion to cover both the party taking care of Hohenheim’s countermeasure and our own entry into the city.”

“I thought our man is holed up underneath Central,” Jelso said. “How are we supposed to get to him?”

“There’s a fairly accessible entrance I know of,” Scar grunted. “May and I found a tunnel that led right to this so-called ‘Father’s’ lair. Guarded by chimeras, but we should be able to pass.” He surveyed the clearing they’d thoroughly levelled during the battle with Pride, staring intently at the stone dome. “A few people should probably stay here and monitor the homunculus and the Elric boy.”

“And make sure to inform Fu we had to move earlier than we planned when he comes back,” Becca added.

“We can hold down the fort here,” Jelso said, gesturing to himself and Zampano. “We’ll make sure Al and the homunculus aren’t bothered.”

“I’ll watch over Heinkel,” Marcoh volunteered.

“I am going to the city,” Lan Fan declared, leaving no room for argument. “If the young lord cannot finish this Father himself, I will do so on his behalf.”

Hohenheim cleared his throat, standing up from the rock he’d sat down on to watch the smoke. “I should get ready to launch the countermeasure-”

Will raised his hand. “Actually, I was thinking… Mr. Hohenheim, maybe you should go after Father with that party and I’ll go with the Ishvalans. I know the ins and outs of Central better than I know any tunnel system, and your alchemy might come in more handy than mine against this guy.” He hesitated. “From what it sounded like when you were telling us about it, it seems like all that’s left to do is keep our heads down and activate the circle you’ve already set.”

Something in Becca’s chest seized at the thought of her brother out of her sight during the Promised Day. And okay, she could admit that perhaps the headache pounding behind her eyes might be exacerbating the fear, but still, she couldn’t help herself from interjecting, “Will-”

I just got you back. We just started being okay again. What if I can’t protect you?

“That might be best,” Hohenheim said contemplatingly. “I don’t think the dwarf in the flask is expecting to see me, so it may throw him off to see me.”

“It’s alright, Becca,” he said, swallowing. Despite his words, she recognized the same worries mirrored in his eyes. “I’ll see you afterwards. Right?”

“Right,” she forced herself to agree. She looked around, taking in their dying fire, their rumpled bedrolls, and their spread-out supplies. “Should- should we clear this all up and get ready to roll out, then? Mustang can’t hold them off forever.”

“Supplies,” Will said, almost to himself. “I need to replenish my supplies.”

“We’ll take care of the campsite,” Darius said, setting a hand on Will’s shoulder. “You go prepare yourselves.”

Ed took her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Let’s go fill Al in.”

Shaky breath in, shaky breath out.

“Good idea,” Becca murmured, her free hand coming up to massage at her temple. They picked carefully across the uneven ground, still rocky from Hohenheim’s transmutation the night before, towards the dome. Once it was within reach, Becca reached out to steady herself, closing her eyes and taking another deep breath. Ed’s hands migrated up to her shoulders, kneading gently at the muscles, and he hummed quietly before calling out to Al.

“Brother?”

“Of course,” Ed said. “ Bex is out here too.”

“Hey, Al,” Becca greeted. “How are you holding up?”

Al chuckled earnestly, the sound echoing through both his body and the cavernous space around him. “As well as I can, I think.”

“We’re going to go beat the crap out of that bearded bastard,” Ed said, knocking twice. “This ends here and now, Promised Day or not.”

Silence.

“Will you be careful?” Al asked, his voice small.

“‘Course we will,” Becca said. She reached up to her shoulder and leaned sideways to her cheek to rest on their joined hands.

“We’ll watch each other’s back,” Ed reassured.

Once again, Al fell silent, but this one felt different. Then, when Al broke it, his voice sounded lighter, bordering on the edge of teasing. “Things between you two certainly feel different than when we last saw each other.”

Becca felt her face flush a bit, but she shared a quiet, private smile with Ed nonetheless. “Yeah, something like that.”

Al made a happy sound before Ed cut him off. “We’re together,” he said warningly. “And we collectively don’t need to make any more comments on it-”

“I’m so proud of you, Brother!” Al exclaimed. “You finally got your head our of your ass about it!”

“Shut up, Al!” If Becca’s face had been flushed, Ed’s had gone crimson. He grabbed at her hand as she chuckled as if he was going to drag her away, despite the fact that she knew he wouldn’t actually leave his brother now until he was forced. She went along for a few steps, unable to stop a fond grin from breaking out across her cheeks, then stopped and pulled Ed back into her space, giving him a short kiss. 

“Eugh, I can sense you guys being gross,” Al complained loudly. Ed smiled against her lips, then tugged her a bit closer in retaliation. Without a clear response from them, Al pretended to gag from within the dome. “Cut it out!” 

When they pulled away, Ed’s eyes sparkled with mischief, and Becca had to press one more chaste kiss to his mouth in order to the wipe the smug smirk off of his face. It didn’t work, but she supposed it was a good try. Ed looped an arm around her waist and taunted, “Once we get you out of there, you’re gonna be sick of us.”

“What if I already am?” Al said long-sufferingly.

“Too bad!”

“I’m sorry you’re stuck in there, Al,” Becca said, a little more contrite.

There was the small sound of metal hitting stone as Al, presumably, knocked his fist against the dome. Ed knocked lightly against the rock himself in return, then Becca followed suit. “I’m alright. This was our best option, and I know you guys can do this. Just… be smart, okay?”

“When are we not?”

“Don’t make me make a list, Brother.”

Fingers clenched in her coat pocket around the jagged Stone she’d dug out of her bag, Becca made her way to the only remaining unfolded bedroll, Heinkel dozing atop it in the shade. His eyes were closed, but she saw him twitch minutely in her direction as she knelt at his side. “Heinkel,” she said quietly, then waited until he blinked slowly up at her before continuing. “Can I have a word?”

He gave her a strange look. “You okay, kid?”

“As well as I can be,” she said with a shrug. Steeling herself, she pulled out the Philosopher’s Stone they’d picked up at the bottom of the mine. She swore she could feel the thousands of lives pulsing within the pool of red, almost vibrating within her palm as she opened her hand for Heinkel to see it. “I actually have a favor to ask.”

The man’s eyes widened and he sat up a bit straighter to peer at the Stone. “Is that-?”

“The Philosopher’s Stone from the mines,” Becca affirmed, glancing up at his face. She watched as he carefully examined the Stone without making any move to touch it, then carefully closed her hand over it once more and held it out towards him.

“I-” Heinkel said, instinctively lurching backward. Still, she scooted a little closer, silently insistent. “Harper, this favor better not be what I think it is.”

She smiled crookedly. “I want you to hold onto this.”

“No. No way, kid.”

“Heinkel, please.”

“You all are going to fight who knows how many of those… homunculus things! Your brother is going to have to protect himself and all of the Ishvalans helping him! One of you might need that!”

“Ed and I have some of the most powerful alchemists in the country, if not the world, fighting with us,” Becca retaliated. “Will and his team are going to keep to the shadows. Al is here alone and might have to protect you and Dr. Marcoh if anything goes wrong. He doesn’t know that the Stone will be here, but if it comes down to it, Ed and I talked about it. We want him to have it.”

“Becca-” Heinkel tried to argue until Becca interrupted.

“We trust you to keep it until he needs it,” she said. She swallowed thickly, still holding her hand towards him. When he didn’t move, she decided she wasn’t against using some dirtier tricks. “Please,” she added pleadingly.

He lasted a few more seconds before he cracked. “Fine! Fine, I’ll do it. Just stop lookin’ at me like that!”

“Thank you,” she said, pressing the Stone into his hand. She watched him tuck it into his pocket, then raised her fist for an awkward fist bump. Heinkel rolled his eyes and instead gave her a quick, one-armed hug. Becca tried to hide her gratitude for the simple gesture with a quiet, “Please tell him to use it if it comes down to it. I know he won’t on his own.”

“I will,” he assured her. “You make sure he’s got something to fight for.”

“I will,” she echoed. Then she stood up, brushed some of the dirt off of her pants, and helped Heinkel to his feet. “I think everyone else is ready to head out. They’ll want to say goodbye.”

Heinkel, to his credit, barely even flinched as she assisted him with limping over to Darius’ side. The two men bent together as she walked away, voices low, though she could guess what they were talking about. She left them to their conversation, instead making her way over to Will and the team of assembled Ishvalans. He was in the midst of what looked to be a debate with Dov, but turned to face her as soon as she approached and shot her a wry grin. “You ready?” he asked.

In place of a real response, Becca just threw her arms around him. Her head was pounding, but she pushed away the pain and clung tightly to the back of his jacket. First he startled. Then, slowly, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, allowing his head to rest atop her own. Becca thought she might have been shaking a little, but far be it from her to move and check. He breathed out a long, slow breath and she settled, her eyes falling shut. Once she let go, she knew they’d have to go their separate ways. For a few more moments, she wanted to stay right there, safe in her big brother’s arms like she hadn’t been since they were children.

“You’re gonna be careful out there, right?” he said.

“I’ll try my best. You need to be too,” she murmured, hoping that it could convey everything she wanted to say but couldn’t get through the lump in her throat. I don’t know what’s going to happen today. I could lose you. I can’t watch over you and I’m scared. I need you to come out of this okay. I need you to be safe. She sighed, moving just enough that she could speak and be heard clearly. This was important. “I love you.”

There was an almost imperceptible tensing of his shoulders before he relaxed, hugging her even tighter. “I love you too, Becca,” he whispered. She knew he’d understood all of her anxiety and fears. She didn’t know if either of them had the power to stop anything that was about to happen, but at least they’d go into it as at peace as possible.

“Bex,” Ed said over her shoulder. “We’ve gotta go.”

No, she wanted to protest, even as she pulled away, slowly letting her brother go. Not yet. Just a few more minutes.

But they didn’t have a few more minutes. Ed was right. The smoke had continued to billow over Central City and they needed to get in there. So she forced what she hoped was an optimistic smile and said, “I’ll see you on the other side.”

“See you then,” Will said, sounding almost as despondent as she felt.

However, before he could turn back to his group, Ed stuck out his hand. Will stared at it, incredulous, until Ed coughed pointedly, brandishing it a bit. Will’s face broke out in an earnest grin and he clasped his hand, shaking it enthusiastically. “You be careful too, Fullmetal.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t break your sister’s heart out there,” Ed said begrudgingly.

Turns out, getting into Central City was the easy part. Becca figured there had to be something attaching Father’s lair to the Third Laboratory, given how quickly Lust had been able to ambush them the last time they’d fought. Their group– Darius,, Scar, Hohenheim, Lan Fan, Ed, and Becca– hurried through the city as nonchalantly as they could, then approached the lab.

“We could fight our way in,” Darius suggested upon seeing the guards at the front door, pounding his fist against his palm.

“Or,” Becca countered, “we could take advantage of the unguarded fence and not set off any more alarm bells.”

“I like her plan better,” Hohenheim said plainly.

“Literally no one asked, old man,” Ed said, massaging his brow.

They snuck over the fence.

“Coming through, official State Alchemist business,” Ed said, flashing his silver watch as they shoved their way through the scientists working in the laboratory. Becca doubted either of them was still actually employed at this point, but the sight of the watch seemed to cow the employees just fine, and they were quickly able to make their way to the stretch of wall Becca remembered as the entrance to the secret operations of the lab. Ed transmuted a macabre door and shoved it open. Becca made sure to close and destroy it behind them, leaving the entire group in the low lighting of the decrepit hallway.

“You think we should split into groups?” Ed asked.

Hohenheim nodded, rubbing at his beard. “We should split by alchemical ability. Mine is special, so I’ll be fine on my own, but you two ought to stick with Scar.”

“What?!” Ed exclaimed sharply.

His father shrugged. “It just makes sense. Scar’s alchemy still worked when yours didn’t after the enemy messed with it, right? You need to have some protection in case that happens again.”

Becca made a face. She hated to admit it, but Hohenheim had a point. Obviously, the living Philosopher’s Stone was on a whole other level and the pairing of their technical precision with Scar’s guaranteed power did make sense. It didn’t mean she had to like it. Scar looked like he was in about the same boat, scowling from a few feet away, but then again, that was sort of his default, so maybe he was totally fine with the new plan.

“And what, you don’t need any protection?” Ed challenged, crossing his arms over his chest even as Becca gently kneaded the muscles in one of his shoulders. “You can take him on alone?”

Hohenheim hummed, pursing his lips. “I suppose you’re right. Perhaps I should take a bodyguard. The young lady from Xing should do just fine, I think?”

Even from behind the mask, Becca felt Lan Fan give Hohenheim an odd look, but she didn’t argue, stepping a bit closer to the older man in apparent assent. Darius looked between them, shook his head, and declared, “If she’s taking care of him, then I’ll come and watch over you three. You might need someone who specializes in brute force.”

Ed huffed. “Fine. Let’s move.” He started off down one side of the hallway, beckoning the others with him.

“If any of us find him, we have to go all out to destroy him,” Hohenheim warned.

Scar grunted in agreement, but Becca and Ed merely shared a look. “Tell us something we don’t know.”

Hohenheim didn’t respond, his footsteps instead fading the opposite direction as they officially went their separate ways. Ed relaxed ever so slightly once he’d left, only to immediately jump when someone– multiple someones– screamed in the distance. Becca couldn’t hold it against him, though, as everyone in their group had done the same. Becca hunched over at the sound, teeth clenched and clutching her head as the aching spiked.

“What the hell?” Ed said under his breath, rushing to her side. “You alright?”

“I’m okay,” she gritted out. “We gotta- we gotta go. Gotta figure out what that was.”

“So just checking, we’re going to go towards the screams? Is that going to be before or after you throw up from this whole… thing?” Darius asked sarcastically. 

Becca shot him a dirty look. “I’m not gonna throw up.”

“Not the point, kid. You should sit down-”

“We don’t have time to sit down!” Becca forced herself to stand up straight, pressing the heels of her hands into her eye sockets. Ed said nothing, just passed her a water bottle and silently urged her to drink. She took a few sips and tried to ease up. “I’m sorry for snapping. But we have to keep moving. Someone could be in trouble.” She drank a little more water and repeated, “I’m okay,” once again, as if she could speak the sentiment into existence.

“It came from that door, down that way,” Scar said, gravelly voice low. He pointed about fifty feet further down the hall and Becca’s stomach dropped. No one noticed. Scar jerked his head towards the plain, giant stone door. “Let’s go.”

They proceeded in silence and Becca thought she might have heard what sounded like the shuffling of dozens, if not hundreds, of feet from… somewhere. Darius shoved the plain doors open to reveal the same white room Al, Hawkeye, and Becca had been attacked the last time they came down here, Gate-reminiscent doors and all. Despite the fact that she’d said she wouldn’t throw up, Becca admittedly felt a little nauseous upon seeing Barry the Chopper’s fallen armor, as well as the faint transmutation marks where she and Al had had formed the wall to protect all three of them from Mustang’s flame.

“This place is giving me a weird feeling,” Darius said, much more hesitant in the doorway than he had been all day.

Ed, on the other hand, approached the massive doors in the center of the room. If the look on his face was anything to go to by, he had gone through the same reminders Becca and Al had upon first seeing them. He shook his head a bit and began to feel around the pattern on the stone. “Can you hear that?” he asked, gloved hands scratching around the enormous pattern. “It’s like-”

“Footsteps,” Becca finished. “And they’re coming from in there.”

“They sure are,” he said absentmindedly. “But how do we get-” Something within the door’s mechanism clicked and it creaked outwards. Ed’s voice trailed off. “In?”

There was a split second of silence, broken only by the rumbling of feet slowly growing louder, and then a crowd of something she couldn’t even begin to identify shoved their way out, spilling out in droves. Becca jumped backward with a yelp, only barely managing to grab Ed firmly by the back of his hood and drag him with her. The chimeras and Scar had lurched back as well, all five of them clumping together in the center of the room. The things, humanoid, but bloodlessly white and with only a single eye in the center of their foreheads, had started to wail and moan hopelessly as they advanced, grabbing at them much faster than it seemed like they should logically be able to move, given their shuffling gait.

“What the fuck?!” Ed shouted, transmuting his arm at once and slashing at one of their attackers as it lunged at him. Well, Becca amended, watching a little closer as they moved, perhaps the better descriptor would be “throwing themself aimlessly” at him. Still, with the sheer number of new attackers swarming out of the open door, it didn’t really matter whether or not they were coordinated fighters– they wouldn’t have to be to simply overwhelm them. Becca touched her hands together and transmuted herself a staff, intercepting another one.

“What are these things?” Darius exclaimed, pulling out his service weapon and firing a few shots into the horde. The bullets made contact, but the humanoids barely flinched. Scar grabbed one by the face, alchemical energy twisting up his arm and melting the thing’s skin off, but they barely flinched, instead nearly biting off a chunk of the Ishvalan’s arm. Darius grunted, shoving one away and shooting another. “And why aren’t they dying?”

Mentally tracing the crimson line along their limbs to their chests, up their necks, and around their eyes, Becca narrowed her eyes at the familiar shade of red. “They’re like dolls,” she said, horrified. “They’ve attached people’s souls so these bodies!”

“How do we stop them?” Scar growled, his hands up defenseively.

“Well first, we need to stop them from escaping,” Ed said decisively. He clapped once more, raising a stone wall in front of the door they’d come in, trapping the dolls in the massive white room with them. He sharpened his blade again, sinking into his own combative position. “Nowhere else to run.”

Darius scrunched up his nose in displeasure as the dolls bypassed them to investigate the alchemy and clawing at the raised rock. Still, their distraction could only last so long. “But now we’re trapped with them.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Scar said. “We need to keep them contained.”

“Somehow, you agreeing with this plan makes me doubt it,” Ed snarked under his breath, making Becca elbow him in the ribs.

“Either way, we’re not sticking around here. I’m sure these are the next line of defense– we’ll need to get past them to find Father,” she said warily. The first few dolls had started to turn around, their attentions refocusing on their group rather than the new wall.

“Easier said than done, kid,” Darius said.

“I thought brute force was your specialty,” Becca replied lightly.

The chimera’s jaw tightened and he frowned at her, but rolled up his sleeves anyway. His muscles bulged as more of his gorilla genetics shined through and he readied himself to fight.

Just in time, Becca thought as she raised her staff. The white dolls had all shuffled back towards them, the horrible racket of their mournful cries turned full-force back in their direction. She forced herself to block it out, to take a deep, centering breath, releasing it just as Ed barked, “Go for their legs!”

They charged as one; bashing, slashing, hacking, and punching every doll within reach; and yet, for each one they took managed to throw out of the way, two more seemed to replace them. Despite the fact that they were practically shoulder to shoulder, Becca had to fall into her own rhythm and ignore the others, lest they distract her as she swung her staff, batting one on her left before whirling around and clocking another in the kneecaps and feeling them shatter. Somewhere in her subconscious, she kept track of her comrades, but the unkillable soldiers demanded the majority of her attention, especially as one managed to get one end of her staff in their mouth and snap it in half. She tossed it aside, then dropped down, sweeping their feet out from under them while simultaneously creating a new weapon. She was up just in time to intercept another attack, only to falter when Darius shouted in alarm.

“Ed!”

Her heart skipped a beat as she whipped towards where she’d last seen Ed. One doll had an iron grip on his ankle, which he fought valiantly to escape to no avail, while three more pounced from three separate angles. She had just enough time to register that 1) Ed couldn’t possibly fight off all of them at once, and 2) there was no way she’d be able to get close enough to help before some serious damage was done, her own mouth opening to cry out, before an explosion shook the room, effectively unbalancing the fighters on both sides. Scar managed to stay on his feet and Darius tumbled toward him, catching himself on the Ishvalan’s shoulders. Becca tried to leap for Ed, only for her knees to collapse underneath her as the ground quaked again and the wall Ed had transmuted fell.

Luckily, Ed had been blown in her direction so she could at least grab onto his coat when she saw it out of the corner of her eyes, ignoring the surprised noise he made. The room had filled with smoke, but she could hear the dolls recovering, stumbling back to their feet. They had to do the same. “Come on,” she murmured, trying to push Ed to his feet. They didn’t know who would be coming through the smoke– friend or foe. They had to be ready for either. “Come on, Ed, get up.”

“So it was you two who whipped all the scientists out there into a frenzy,” a familiar voice drawled lazily. Both Becca and Ed’s heads snapped up at the figures emerging from the smoke, one military-issued boot after other. Coming through the smoking doorway was Colonel Mustang, Lieutenant Hawkeye, as always, a few paces behind him with her gun out. Becca laughed, breathless, and she saw Ed grin wolfishly as he scrambled to a sitting position. The colonel cocked an eyebrow at them, gloved hand extended in front of him. “You look like you could use a hand.”

“Always showing up at the last possible second, huh, Mustang?” Ed taunted, launching himself upright once more. He offered Becca a hand and helped her to stand as well.

Becca, for her part, brushed some dust out of her bangs as Mustang looked around, a faux-fond expression on his face. Somehow, she knew she’d be a lot less grateful for his arrival based on whatever was about to come out of his mouth. “Doesn’t this place bring back good memories, Lieutenant? Last time we were here, I remember you and Illusion crying over me.”

Yeah, that would do it. Becca rolled her eyes. “It was a very long, stressful day.”

“Don’t expect it to happen again,” Hawkeye said monotonously at the same time. “Water makes you useless.”

“Will you all hurry up and fight?” Scar barked. He and Darius were back to back, already attacking some of the dolls.

Mustang bristled. “Don’t you give me orders!”

“We need to kill these white things, right?” Hawkeye asked over him, only causing him to prickle up even more in annoyance.

Ed swiped at a few nearby attackers as Becca stepped on end of the staff she’d dropped, catching it one handed. “We can’t kill them,” she said as she spun it a few times, adjusting the weight ever so slightly as it moved. She went to clarify, only for one of the dolls to practically fall toward her and force her to cut herself off in favor of swatting at their knees.

“I’m getting tired of that sentence recently,” Hawkeye muttered.

“I see,” Mustang said, observing the fight appraisingly. “So you’re trying to disable their legs.”

“Will you quit grandstanding and help?” Ed demanded

“Hm. If you insist.” The colonel snapped and an arc of flame erupted from his gloves, whirling around the bottom halves of every doll in the room, downing them in an instant. Colonel Mustang smiled smugly in the face of five equally exasperated glowers from around the room. “Really, Fullmetal, Illusion. If you have this much trouble with these things, then you still have a lot to learn.”

Becca put her arm across Ed’s chest as he took a few threatening steps towards Mustang, much to his chagrin. “Bex, let go of me. I’m going to kill him.”

They took a few minutes to regroup in their small, doll-free circle before even beginning to clear a path to the large doors in the center. Once again, Ed rubbed the area between Becca’s shoulders and neck absentmindedly, soothing a few of the knots that always took up residence there during one of her headaches. Becca herself forced herself to relax, rubbing at the bridge of her nose for the temporary relief the pressure would provide.

“Do I want to ask what’s going on with you two or do I need plausible deniability to avoid a court martialing?” Mustang asked, watching from a few feet away with his hands on his hips.

“Don’t you have bigger things to worry about?” Ed responded testily.

“Not arguing about this right now,” Becca mumbled, the words further muffled by the hand in front of her face. “Headache.”

“Hm,” the colonel said. He crossed their empty space and started nudging the dolls out of the way with his boot, but pointedly said nothing more to them. Good. The last thing Becca needed right now was to dissect her love life with her commanding officer. Hawkeye seemed to take a cue from him and moved to do the same, allowing the four who’d actually fought a few more minutes of respite.

As they worked, though, the pipes running across the ceiling above began to rattle. Becca looked up just in time to see May Chang burst through the metal, landing with a loud, “Oof!” atop the still-cracked doors. Seconds later, a much larger figure missed the doors entirely, instead falling straight onto the stone floor. All at once, each of them was back up and ready to fight.

“May!” Becca called up to the young girl. “What happened?”

“Miss Rebecca! Mr. Scar! Mr. Edward!” May chirped, swinging herself around to slide easily down the door and join them.

“What are you still doing here?” Scar demanded as soon as she was close enough to hear his rough voice. “You were supposed to go back to your country, you foolish girl.”

Something in Becca’s chest lurched, wanting to defend the young girl, but before she could, the fallen figure coughed and started sitting up. “Ugh…” they muttered, spitting out a bit of dirt. Becca inhaled sharply as Envy looked up at them, a wide grin on their face. “Oh, it’s you guys! Boy, you really did a number on our mannequin soldiers, didn’t you?”

“Envy,” Ed hissed.

“Ha! The Fullmetal Alchemist, the Flame Alchemist, the Illusion Alchemist, Scar, and a chimera from up north!” The homunculus’ grin, if possible, shifted into an even more sinister expression of something almost like hunger. “I wonder who I should take care of first.”

“Envy, the shape-shifter?” Mustang asked, side-eyeing Becca for confirmation. She nodded curtly and he made a small, unclear sound in the back of his throat. There was a flicker of interest in his dark eyes for a mere moment before he covered it up, always so good at keeping any weaknesses hidden from his enemy. Becca, on the other hand, frowned, watching him unsurely.

“So you’ve heard of me,” Envy said cockily. “Nice to meet you, Colonel Mustang. I’m surprised you’ve made it this far working with that one.” They thumbed unsubtly at Scar, who curled his lip in disgust at the homunculus. Envy seemed to find it amusing, turning to Scar. “You’re really okay with working with him? You know he was one of the State Alchemists who destroyed Ishval, right?”

“I’m aware,” Scar said evenly.

“Seriously? You two are allies now? How boring!” Envy said disappointedly. Becca’s eyes narrowed, her suspicion rising the longer they talked. “I can’t let Mustang die or anything yet, but you guys can’t muster up a little grudge match for me?”

Mustang drew attention back to himself. “We don’t have time for your pathetic games.”

“I’m pathetic?” Envy scoffed. “Let me ask you a question then: don’t you humans also love watching fools suffer, pulled around like puppets on strings? Isn’t that what you keep going to war for?”

The colonel smirked, but the usual asshole-ish glint didn’t extend to the rest of his expression. “I do enjoy watching fools be jerked around, especially when the fools in question are you homunculi.” The fake smirk fell rather suddenly, his face going stony in an instant. “Now you answer a question for me.” 

On instinct, Becca moved a little closer, like she could reach out and stop him if he truly decided to do something stupid. Envy, however, didn’t flinch. They only flashed Mustang a cold smirk of their own. “Go on.”

Even with the residual groans of the mannequin soldiers, the heavy breathing from the rest of their team, and the drip of water from the broken pipes, it seemed like they could have heard a pin drop in the space between Envy’s invitation and Mustang finally obliging.

“Who killed Maes Hughes?”

Notes:

i hope you and your loved ones are all staying healthy and safe, and i'll see you in the next update! -c

chapter title board: https://pin.it/4raFrBR

becca's board bc i'm technologically inept and can't for the life of me figure out how to just insert the image: https://pin.it/2jR5wGM

Series this work belongs to: