Disclaimer: No part of this publication is affiliated with, owned or endorsed by Square Enix, Madman Entertainment, Yen Press, or Monthly Shōnen Gangan to include any affiliation with the author and illustrator of the true Fullmetal Alchemist (Hagane no Renkinjutsushi) series, Hiromu Arakawa.

Note/Warning(s):
• It has been a while, but this has far from been abandoned. I thank you for your reviews, they keep me motivated. I would suggest, scanning over the other chapters to catch up to now. I hope you will continue to enjoy. As to my time away, life has its ways of pulling and throwing you around. Thank you for your loyalty. Enjoy!

Quick Recap (Though I encourage a re-read as the whole story has been revamped):

Richard Donavan was seeking to harness the power of souls without the need to condense it into a depletable stone (which we know is also highly volatile). The goal was to harvest and store the souls in flasks, so each could be trapped but used as a renewable energy source. Similar to Father's early stages on Earth as "the dwarf in the flask", when first befriending Hohenheim.

In order to complete this godly task, the high priest brought the wounded Edward Elric with him to the gate, as use of payment for Truth. The unsuspecting part of his congregation had now become his test subjects.

This backfired as Edward Elric secretly offered his own payment, costing him his arm once more, in order to use alchemy one last time. Truth took Donavan's hearing as the cost of harvesting the souls he desperately wanted.

After returning from the gate, Ed immediately set to work on reversing the transmutation. Within his genius, still puzzling his friends, family, and comrades, Ed allowed his soul for payment the moment he activated the transmutation. The Fullmetal Alchemist left his body in the physical world successfully paying the price to return the souls in flasks to their original bodies.

Currently, Edward Elric's soul (himself) is stuck on the plain with Truth.

As for Mustang and the crew scramble for a solution, they are simultaneously trying to win an election, and plan a wedding. All the while, time is ticking, for they know as well as we all do, the body can reject its state at any time, especially without a soul.

Chapter 07: Our Sacrifice

It had been week a since the Brigadier General stood in the dusty street, watching the Medical Evacuation Vehicle speed off with Fullmetal.

In one fluid movement, Mustang's back turned to his love's departure. As the commander of the operation, he could not indulge on the qualms of his heart. Instead of being with Ed, this soldier had to focus and forcefully apply that unyielding military mask to his face in order to complete the mission.

The onyx eyes surveyed the scene. Blurring though Mustang's vision: soldiers ran to and fro within the organized chaos. Soon finding Captain Breda gathering intelligence from Father Cush on the Church's pristine white steps, tainted with drops of crimson, finally his sight landed on Franklin Turner. The cook was resting his back against a brick column, lost in thought, a smoke dangling loosely from his mouth.

This jarred a flash back to argument in the truck, following the last phone call received from Fullmetal. There was yet another site that needed to be investigated. Edward's last known whereabouts: the phone booth.

At once, the commander caught the attention of the Bravo team leader and signaled him to convene. The soldier reported, "The suspect, Richard Donavan, has been detained. Once the medical unit gives us the go, we will begin questioning. No other major causalities reported, outside Colonel Elric, sir. The medical team is currently conducting an assessment of the affected civilians."

With the Mustang's dismissal, the soldier snapped into a salute, and went on his way.

It was second nature to call for the next two personnel. "Major Hawkeye, Captain Havoc post!" Within seconds they were at his side, and following the Flame Alchemist's stride toward Franklin.

Franklin straightened himself up upon noticing the approaching company.

"Mr. Turner, would you please, bring us," Mustang heard Havoc run off; "to the location you assumed Edward placed the call."

"Sure." Giving the officer a strained look, Turner murmured, "Cut the crap. Name's Frank, Mr. Mustang."

There was a sharp whistle coming from a distance, catching their attention. Havoc was waving them over, standing near a vehicle with a driver ready to go.

If there was one positive thing Mustang could possibly derive from this hell, it was his of team's excellence; always aware, alert, a step ahead, and in sync with their commander.

While directing the driver, Frank recalled the events of the previous night, beginning at the sighting of the PHISH guards. Major Hawkeye jotted down notes.

When the jeep pulled up, the area was already blocked off and guarded by black uniforms, the semi-local military police team.

As they dismounted the vehicle, Franklin explained, "If you were to draw a line, the pub is diagonally across from this corner." Thumbing over to the ally they were walking passed, "Ed cut though here to get to the telephone booth. This path leads right to the back of the pub."

Mustang ducked underneath the rope, asking the saluting MP officer, "Has anything been touched?"

"No, sir! Civilians reported the crime scene this morning."

The first thing that caught their eye was the besmirched pavement; a blotch, smattering, and a smear of crimson. Mustang's stomach sank. The image of Hughes laying there flashed before him, and just as quickly disappeared.

Glass littered the back of the structure; some pieces were far out into the street. As he drew closer to the booth, Roy's military mask slowly splintered. If the commander didn't know any better, he would have drawn the conclusion that a heart exploded. The vital fluid had splattered all over the containing walls, and in areas, ran down by the pull of gravity. The receiver dangled off the hook, a bullet a hole marred the blood painted box. One could postulate, with the hole's location in conjunction with Ed's height, the victim was shot through midlevel back – chest area.

Mustang could hear his own shallow breathing as began kneeling down to further examine the evidence. Glass pieces sparkled, like glitter, on the floor. A smudged handprint was visible on the left side. However, the direction of the print was strange. It was a right hand, with the fingers pointing toward the outside of the booth.

Compiling the information, there was enough data to start the movie reel to display in Roy's mind:

In his left hand, Fullmetal held the receiver. "Get out of the house! They-" Two shots fired. Ed's sharp intake of breath. The connection was severed. He fell forward, unintentionally closing the connection, that or the bullet. While grabbing his chest with his right hand, glass rained down round him.

Sensing the enemy was near, Fullmetal instinctively spun around to fight (Habit, he was no longer armed with alchemy). Losing his equilibrium, Ed fell back on the device once more. He began to collapse. His right shoulder made contact with the wall, blurring the splatter on the way down, throwing his right hand out to slow the fall or, knowing Fullmetal, out of frustration to try and keep standing.

Failing in the end, he fell forward; face down, which accounted for the puddle outside the booth.

The human body stored an amazing amount of blood.

He was left there for a moment, as the enemy decided what to do. The crimson slowly extended its radius, slickly seeping into the cracks. Eventually, Fullmetal was turned over, dragged, and finally picked up to be taken away.

This amount of blood, a critical shot, and yet Ed was very much alive when Mustang laid eyes on him at the facility. This didn't add up.

Mustang took another closer look. "Major, I can only account for one shot. I heard two."

Hawkeye's eyes seemed strained for a second, looking through the booth. Then she ran off somewhere.

The weapon specialist quickly returned. "Sir. The second missed."

Curiously, Havoc inquired, "How do you know it missed?"

"It's trajectory would not have made a straight path. It's embedded in the wall directly across the street." Walking to the back of the booth she pointed to a specific spot on the edge of broken glass pane, which had a frosted complexion. "I wouldn't have known if this wasn't here. When it breaks through glass the friction and heat leaves this behind."

Mustang stood up. "Please stand where you estimate the shooter took aim while he ran."

Hawkeye moved around him and stood no more than four steps away. "The enemy wasn't running, sir." Mustang narrowed his eyes, waiting for an explanation to the theory. Obliging, Hawkeye stated, "If the assailant was, the side glass would be broken not the back." Havoc leaned over and picked up the two casings near the Lieutenant. Softly, she stated, "An amateur, aiming for the head and heart."

Fullmetal was a pro, he must have known his enemy was right there. Sounds of footsteps, the metal clicks of the weapon, yet he was still determined to make the call. That fucking call…

Once the enemy realized he had failed to kill his target, he had decided, with a partner, to carry the victim to the next destination. To Donavan, it must have been a gift. The ideal time to try his theories; Fullmetal was a perfect candidate. Maybe, this was Donavan's plan all along, it just so happened to come easier than expected.

Someone tugged on his arm. Confused, Mustang pulled his eyes away from the gore, and found himself staring into golden life filled orbs. Fullmetal stood before him, with that precarious grin plastering his face. "Hey there Colonel Bastard."

How the fuck?

In seconds arms flung around Mustangs neck, soft lips met his. The questions and reasoning's ceased. Who cared? Ed was alive and here. The answers would be found later…

Closing his eyes, Roy melted into the moment and into the embrace. Moving to wrap his arms around his love, only to be met with nothing but air.

What?!

The tugging on his arm became more vigorous.

Roy's eyes snapped open; his head rested on his arms on Ed's hospital bed.

Reality.

Why did Fullmetal lower the value of his own life below mine? Had he not learned that there was no value to a human life? Now look at what has happened.

That left over body had woke Mustang up, using its fingers, pulling at his shirt sleeve, unable to fully grasp the material due to the restraints.

Roy lifted his head. At once, a horrible shiver ran down his spine.

The blue hue from the moon, filtered in from the window, reflecting off the retinas.

That ghostly stare went straight through the living. The unearthly grown, jerky movement, the clanking of metal; this savage creature come into this world from the realm of nightmares.

Shakily, Roy put his head back down, pressing his forehead into the mattress, protectively covering his ears and head with his arms. He yelled desperately into the bed. His heart screamed with torment, it wanted to be back in the plain where hopes and dreams were right. Instead Roy found himself in an endless despairing abyss, ankle deep in the blood of the fallen.

The body still yanked at the man.

But who was Roy Mustang to blame?

He had done this, he had created this. This was his phantasm animated by the subconscious, transmuted with the ingredients, fear and dread.

Though there was one difference between Roy's distortions and Ed's: His were tangible.

Trembling, Roy remained in his spot, eyes squinted shut, heart bounding in his chest, panic electrifying his nerves. Maybe, it would all go away, maybe as he slept he could dream of waking from the nightmare, within the warmth of his love's embrace.

For a while now, Ed had been hearing whispers of the talks, exchanges of ideas and theories, mostly from the voices of Roy and Al. The topic of 'return to the gate' frothed fear that had slowly bubbled up inside of him. Truthfully, Fullmetal didn't care what happened to him, as long the others remained safe and in one piece; Keywords, in one piece.

Still sitting behind the electric blue hue marble slab table, Ed let go of the question: "What are you going to do to my brother?"

"First we have to see if he makes it here. After that, we have to reassess the circumstances." Truth sat back, smiling.

What is so amusing about hurting my brother, you sadistic bipolar bastard? Ed lowered his head as he crossed his arms, and started to think. There has to be a way to stop them…

Interrupting the human's thoughts, the entity stated, "There will be no way to stop them. Logic, Edward. Think about the path of events, using people's convictions and values as part of the equation."

Damn mind reader. Unfortunately, Truth was correct once more. Al would stop at nothing to help his brother and Mustang was just as stubborn, leaving no one behind. Slamming both fists down on the stone, Ed roared, "Can someone please stop them?!"

In one blink Truth in his face, "Yes." At Ed's level, the ghostly figure stood. "I can." After waving its hand and smiling, "Here you are."

With the feeling a powerful presence loom over, Ed jumped to his feet and spun around. His gate bore down on him. "What's the price?"

"Haven't I told you? You already paid for it." Folding its hand behind its back, Truth continued, "Those strings we spoke about; now you know who you affected, and those very vibrations cast by your actions, extended as far as my reach. There is still hope in that chaotic world.

"What an amazing light you hold as a soul. You have been judged, young alchemist, a man of your millennia and it is time for you to go! … Though… I do love having you here. Consider this an earned gift from me to you. Again, your price has already been paid. Who knows we may meet again..."

Stunned to silence, Ed nodded, unsure wither he accepted this or not. Straining to hear Roy's voice one last time, just one last time, but his ears were met with a deafening silence.

The only regret that occupied his core: He couldn't say goodbye.

"Good look to you Edowardo Elric." The doors of the gate opened the black hands came forth, engulfing the soul of the Fullmetal Alchemist.

Hazy vision and groggy as hell, blinking and squinting, willing his eyes to focus on something in this dark place... Wasn't death supposed to feel light, mystical, and floaty, not achy with a heavy weight?

Something warm was brushing against and tickling his fingers… a body? He had fingers and a body? Lobbing his head to the left, his eyes came to focus on the sleeping from, the handsome form of the Flame Alchemist.

Was this a sick joke?

Roy Mustang seemed to be at peace within his dreams. It had been his breath dancing across Ed's wiggling digits.

The prodigy chuckled with the little energy he had. Truth whispered clear as day, "Some will call it a miracle others will say it was luck. You and I can agree that it is equivalent exchange."

'Exchange for what? I have already paid the price?' The questions were met with silence. 'I guess Truth was right, when it comes to myself, I don't have a clue.'

Moving his left hand, the patient felt something around his wrist, the restraints came into view. Smirking with pride when realizing, 'My body caused them trouble while I was away.'

Carefully, and with some hesitation, fearing that this was not reality, Ed started to play with Roy's hair. Soft and silky, this was real…tangible. Ed's heart fluttered. He had more time.

A whisper of a female voice startled Ed, "You're back." This fatigue was heavy; Fullmetal didn't even hear Riza Hawkeye enter.

Oh fuck, he caught showing affection to Roy… the shock was spotted, as Hawkeye smiled and whispered, "I already know, it's alright." Still noticing his hesitation she continued, "I've known for some time know."

Hawkeye, with a warm smile, held a straw up to Ed's lips to help him sip some water, with gratitude in his eyes, he accepted. Hawkeye forever thoughtful and knowing; Fullmetal wondered how many times Hawkeye woke up in the hospital, parched as if crossing the dessert to know that was the first item he needed.

The Major continued in the same low whisper, sympathetically glancing over at the sleeping Mustang, "I saw a glow come from the room. I was worried the General did something impulsive."

Fighting to keep awake, Ed once again admired the sleeping alchemist. Still in a stupor, he carefully ran his fingers though the soft midnight hair.

Hawkeye whispered again, "He has hardly slept since you've been gone."

A subconscious sigh left Roy, his body physically relaxed at Ed's touch. After a moment, the onyx eyes flickered open, staring unbelieving into the golden orbs, mirroring fatigue, pouring with care and empathy, and were above all - alive. "Ed?!"

A lopsided grin spread across the young face. A wispy voice replied, "Yesss? How can the Fullmetal Alchemist be of service?"

Sitting up, heart pounding with joy, Roy kept his cool outward persona. "By returning to duty, Colonel Pipsqueak."

Ed yanked on his restraints, to get at the antagonizer for the "little" comment. Glaring at the man, "Had to tie me down? Kinky bastard."

Roy wore that mischievous smirk.

Ed tried to say, "Don't let go." Maybe he was able to say it; maybe he did and couldn't remember, it didn't matter... Before he fell back into the drug induced sleep, Edward Elric would bet he was the most content man in all of Armestris. Be it a gift or a curse.

When the patient woke again, there were no restraints, the fog had been lifted, and Roy's hand was still entwined with his own… with the team in the room?! Spotting his brother, Ed mumbled to Al, "Well, the cat's out of the armor."

The room fell silent. Al beamed. Chuckling, he asked, "What are you talking about, brother?" Ed nodded his head to his left hand, was being held by Roy's. A small squeeze that made Ed blush.

Pondering the social slang, Al correcting thoughtfully, "I think the saying is coming out of the closet."

"Closet? Who the hell enters a closet to come out of a closet?" There were snickers and chuckles in the room from Ed's exclamation. "Better yet who would hide in the closet? Even a seven year old knows it's the worst hiding spot."

"Hm, well I guess it's hard to come out of the closest if you didn't know you were in one." That was Winry's voice, but where did it come from? Glancing around, then down by his feet… ah! There she was! Ed, finally took a quick look around the room. To his direct right was his brother. Havoc and Breda were sitting on the windowsill with Hawkeye nearby in a guest chair. Mustang was seated to his left side with Fuery. Winry was at the bottom of Ed's bed with one leg up on the mattress to face him.

Mustang murmured, "With your size, you might think have thought you were in a studio apartment."

A rebuttal to the wise crack never occurred for a short by a knock hit the door. Instantly, Roy let go of Ed's hand, causing the blonde's heart ping. Not accepted or normal, the small things. After Mustang gave the small nod to Fuery, the Sergeant Major opened the door.

Franklin stood smiling with a cart with food and drinks. "Room service!" Pushing it into the room, the wonderful aroma of food had a snake charming effect on the patient, sitting up straight.

"Well, look who woke from the dead!" Franklin jested, though part true.

"I will eat your brains if I don't get some food, right now." Ed watched as Franklin start to serve the others, singing in a church like chorus, "He's alive, he's a- live! It's a miracle!"

Ed snorted. "No. More like equivalent exchange." Al and Roy nearly gave themselves whiplash as they snapped their heads around to those words.

"Brother… What do you sacrifice?" Al's eyes scanned him again. Now starting to physically examine, "Your arm was one toll… you went through twice… so what was the second if your soul is back?" About to lift the sheet, Ed knocked it out of Al's grip, "Hey! Trust me I have all my parts. I just don't know. Truth said that I already paid for it, but I don't understand what it is."

Mustang's eyes narrowed and lowered, this was just as chilling as the dead eyes. Now how many times through that gate:

One. Attempt to revive his mother.
Two. To attach his brother's soul.
Three. From what Ling had spoken of: escaping a broken gate within Gluttony.
Four. Getting pulled down to the Homunculi's layer, something Roy never saw having already lost his eye sight.
Five. Bring his brother, body and soul back from the gate.
Six. By force due to Donavan.
Seven. To save the congregation in Pendleton.

Mustang snapped out of a haze, with the clank of the hospital tray, filled with lovely hospital food was placed in front of Ed. With sad puppy eyes, Ed looked up at his buddy, who explained, "I can't give you my cooking yet. You haven't had a decent meal in you for a while."

Groaning, Ed still thanked him. "So what's the plan now? When are we leaving?" picking up a utensil.

Havoc chuckled with the rest of them. "Anddddddd he's back. You just friggin' woke up!"

"We still need a plan!"

"Um, well, whatever the plan is, would you happen to need a cook in your travels?" from the look on Franklin's face, Ed assumed that took all his courage to ask.

Breda jumped at it, "Do we? There not even a question! Of course we need our own cook!" Lighting up like a kid on his birthday, the Captain elbowed Havoc. "Can you imagine… no more mess hall… our own personal team cook!"

Winking over to the Mr. Turner, Havoc made it clear he was in it to pull on Breda's leg. "I dunno. No training in the military… he might not be able to contribute-"

"How can he not be considered a vital asset to the team?! Food, this is FOOD we are talking about. It's not like Hawkeye is going to go into the kitchen and make us sandwiches anytime soon." That comment earned him a good punch in the leg from the woman. "Ow!"

Hawkeye nonchalantly returned to her plate. "Be glad that wasn't aimed at your crotch."

Shying away from that crisis, Breda continued his defense for the cook. "Plus, a trustworthy personal cook needs to be selected for our future elected official." Ed looked puzzled, and to which Hawkeye handed him the newspaper. Ed poured over the information. Gamelan's name was associated to the black and white image of a squared face, beady-eyed, stern man.

Mustang looked up from his plate. "You speak as though I have no competition."

"That's because you don't." Ed said from behind the paper. The other image of Douglas also had a strong figured face, with round glasses, and lighter looking hair. Mustang was the only one with a little smug smile. Smirking as he brought it down, "You're so high up on that horse of yours, the oxygen deprivation is making you a very special candidate that stands out from the rest."

Franklin remembering their squabbles at the bar, on the side he whispered to Riza, "Are they always like this?"

Hawkeye sighed and nodded. "Years. I have had to put up with this for years."

Ed continued, "Who are these candidates anyway?"

"Then why did you say I have no competition if you don't know who the candidates are?" Mustang retorted.

Ed reiterated, "...a very special candidate is General Mustang."

Hawkeye started to answer Ed's question before it all continued again, "Colonel Gamelan. He's been working in Central for some time now. Kept to his orders under Bradley, though also a history of not being keen of all the orders given. Colonel Henry Douglas. The second in command for Central's Military Police."

"Henry Douglas is the only one that looks and sounds familiar.."

Mustang assisted Fullmetal's memory, "He was the one who ordered the arrest of Maria Ross, and was there the night I quote unquote killed Ross."

"Ohhhhh. Well, I think the only one we have to worry about is Gamelan. No one wants a Douglas, a police mind taking over after Bradley's reign, and if Douglas tries, we have proof that he frames Ross. Lies from the start." Others nodded a concurrence to Ed's logic.

Mustang's to change the tedious subject, with a playful tone, "Now that we have a cook and I have a good team, where do you fit on the asset chart, Fullmetal?"

"I happened to add a new achievement to my resume. 'Shocking a disembodied gatekeeping entity.' I rest my case." Taking a fork full of whatever it was on his plate, made the patient glower.

"You're going to have to do better than that. All I see you employable for is occupying a purse as a Chihuahua." Ed's head slowly turned to face the bastard with small dick neurosis.

The piece of broccoli on Ed's fork was flung through the air. Mustang never flinched as it made contact with his cheek, where it stuck. Laughter was heard, but Ed squinted at the vegetable. Mouth opening and closing a few times, astounded. "Broccoli shouldn't do that…" Looking back at his plate, he pushed his tray away.

Feeling bad, Frank handed him over a muffin. "You should be able to at least handle this."

Pulling the vegetable off his face, Mustang said, "I could have you in chains for the assassination attempt on a high ranking officer."

Trying to hide the smirk, Ed remarked, "You would like that wouldn't you?"

Now it was Hawkeye's turn. "Alright." Thinking he crossed a line, Ed swallowed damning himself for the awkwardness he might have unleashed. "I am not comfortable," Hawkeye continued as Fullmetal cringed, sipping water, "with that kind of talk directed at my fiancé." Horrified at how this was being handled, Mustang paled.

Meanwhile Frank got a nice shower, courtesy of the high pressure water system from Ed's mouth. Ed grabbed some air before, "Say again?"

Handing their new team cook a napkin, Havoc ran with it. "Major Hawkeye is engaged to this Brigadier General. Major, are you sure you will be okay with that Mustang character? He did just break up with Jacqueline?"

Sporting a straight face, Breda added, "I thought her name was Carrie?"

Ed took a hefty bite out of the muffin. Al was starting to freak out for his brother but relaxed seeing Mustang calmly place his silverware down, crossing his arms.

Havoc pat his own knee. "No no, I correct myself. I distinctly remember hearing an Beth over the office phone."

"Ah! What happened to Gertrude?" Breda cocked his head over to Riza, mock whispering that everyone could hear, "I think you should get tested. Seems like he's been around…"

Mustang butted in at this point, "I don't recall any long nights. Jacqueline, was it good for you?"

That is when Havoc lost it followed by Breda, and the rest, laughing so hard they had tears in their eyes, "Yes, sir. It was a fiery night!"

How this team got anything done, was beyond any of them.

Back to what started the jokes, Ed did realize it was unlike Hawkeye to spew any lies even if they were said jokingly. Engagement? Before he could finish the thought, Winry asked, "I figured out the rest, who is Gertrude?"

Havoc answered, "Falman. Because we figured he is old and if we put a wig and some make up on him, he would look like a Gertrude."

This got another chuckle out of the group. Hawkeye brought the conversation back around, "In all seriousness Colonel," looking to Ed, "the engagement-"

Breda gasped cutting her off once again. "Where did he propose? On a villa?"

Fuery spoke up this time, "Or after being wined and dined?"

Havoc pointed out, "No, Breda has a good point, people are going to ask about that. We should have a story ready for the papers."

Riza cleared her throat, "As I was saying, the engagement is true. I volunteered to promote his image."

Silently Ed nodded. It clicked and made perfect sense. In that moment, the mind started stringing together ideas. The old problems were back. His mind had a mind of it's own.

Ed shocked Mustang as he began, "The wedding should be classy, not extravagant. You can't seem pompous; however it needs to be invitation only, no public access. This is to give the air that you want to still have your family and friend time and not doing this wedding for the spotlight," muttering, "which you ironically are, but that is beside the point." Speaking in his normal tone, "BUT give an exclusive to one newspaper or magazine. They will then owe us a favor you will desperately need in the future. OH! And you need backdated paperwork from Führer Grumman. It would be against Military Regulation for you two to have a relationship within the same chain of command. Also paperwork for change of command there after to allow for the relationship to continue."

Hawkeye seemed to admire Ed's acceptance of this, asking, "Then who would I fall under, if it wasn't Mustang this whole time."

Ed wittingly responded, "Colonel Olivier Armstrong. The strong ally of General Mustang. You brief the General and insure logistics for Briggs."

Fuery was nodding furiously, "Sir, you're a genius. Papers can hold a story, or leak of information! We completely forgot about the regulation... they would have nailed us for that during the campaign."

"And that is why we have the Colonel around, General," noted Havoc.

The cook asked, "So how do you like my muffin?"

Ed smirked, "Mmmm tasty and moist." He bit down into it, eyes locking seductively with Roy's.

That son-of-a-bitch. Roy shifted in his seat with eyes that screamed, Wait, just you wait.

After a moment of more jabbering, the General and the Colonel caught each other's glance again, this time to share a sympathetic gaze. They didn't even need to discuss the matter; they knew what they were in for. In the end, they mirrored a smirk.

Life was full of challenges, but they could do anything, together.

It was later on in the evening when Hawkeye sat with Ed. Mustang had gone to freshen up. Al was out to grabbing dinner from the bar to bring back to four of them.

When Ed woke from a nap, Hawkeye was already there with water again. Eventually breaking the silence as Ed handed the cup back.

In a soft tone, "I need to say this, Ed, I need this to be very clear." Noticing she had his full attention, she continued, drawing the chair closer to the bed. "I don't love Roy like I love Jean. Roy is family, but not the same. I love him as a brother and dear friend. I will always protect his life, hold to every promise we have ever made. I support him in anyway way I can, for us and the country."

Ed nodded, "I know. It is going to be really hard for you isn't it?"

Riza had a slightly puzzled look, why was he thinking about her right now? "Why do you-"

"I see how you look at Jean. And how he looks at you. It's most likely why Mustang and I seem so natural to you. It was not a foreign thought. We may not have known it but you saw it before we did. Just as I see you and Havoc now. No one would have had that reaction of understanding otherwise. I knew Al would be okay with anything, after what life has thrown at us, this, with Mustang and I, is a non-factor." He paused, "But now, Jean, will he be okay?"

Hawkeye rested her hand on Ed's wrist, "Yes. Ed, we support you too, we will make this work."

"I'm sorry that Jean and you will have the same struggle. You both could have the normal life, living together growing old together. You would not have the same struggle if it weren't-"

She shook her head, and silenced him with, "We chose this. We want to do this, we need to do this. We support this mission with everything we have and we want your happiness and Roy's too."

Ed just let it out, "I can't be the reason why he fails Riza." His eyes were filled with tears. "If this ever got out, if-"

Hawkeye sat on the bed and put an arm around Ed. "Don't. Don't start with the what ifs. We will succeed, we will be the best team, and the best thing to ever happen to this country."

Ed nodded silently then said, "No matter what happens, please take care of him like you always have? Please promise me that."

"Always."

The whole week was a whirl wind of events. The hospital allowed Winry to bring Ed into surgery to update the ports for his arm and leg, within three days he already had updated limbs. Winry's research and hard work really shined, literally, shined. She had to tone down the medal once reattached and aligned, for a more matte finish. The automail really needed to be less noticeable. Much lighter than the old, a tad heavier then the flesh appendages, though much better than the older technology. Unfortunately, the process of getting that arm back was as excruciating as it was before. Roy never knew what is was like to go through the process and for Ed to do that not once but twice?

Hawkeye had already asked Winry if should would like to be in the wedding party. Ed never had the chance to warn the woman of what unleashed. 'WOULD I?! I WOULD BE HONORED! The colors, we need to pick out what would be best, oh!-" Maybe it would be a good thing, for Winry help out. All of Riza's friends were military, might not have given to much thought on the details of a possible wedding.

The day before Ed was to be released from the hospital Rose and Scar came to visit. Ed, Al, Winry, Mustang, and Hawkeye were already present room, still scheming. Why were Rose and Scar still around? They offered guidance to the town for what Ishval and Reole went through, and how to prevent a power vacuum and flat out chaos. The people eagerly took them up on that offer. And who was running the town now? None other than John Vash.

"I wanted to stop in before we headed back to the East." Rose took the seat Roy had offered to her, to be able to relax and talk to Ed. Meanwhile little panda Xiao-Mei jumped all around and was hugging Scar's neck, slowly irritating the Ishvalan.

"It was great to see you again Rose. Awesome work at the ball, and thank you for helping out this town."

She chuckled, "Oh, that was a great thrill, and taught me a lot. I could give knowledge, and it is a great honor to be able to do that. Giving back to others helps us all have purpose and heal in our own way.

Hey, I would really like it if you came to visit some time Ed." Which earned her a weary look, to which she replied, "I want you to see the good positive changes."

Ed nodded, "Eh-." She interjected, "Just think about it.

With that Fullmetal looked to Scar, "Since the General here respects you and the people, he has become shy." Scar was already blankly puzzled, with the panda on his head. Ed continued, "He's afraid to pour salt on wounds, with his presence. Do you think it would be okay for me to go to Ishval? I can ease his worry, see how the people are, show Ameristian presence as an ambassador from Central? Mustang would like to have a continued plan for what the people of Ishval need, no matter what the election holds."

"You know I am standing right here Fullmetal." Mustang drawled.

"Yeah, well, you're not going to say it."

Mustang threw in, "If I went Ed, it would also look like extortion." Mockingly, "Hello everyone, my presence seems a little ominous, like a campaign extortion. Will I mess up the Reconstruction Act if there are no votes?" It seemed clear Mustang really did not know how to approach that area, and thus Scar calmly said, "Do not assume how the people will react. Ishvalan culture is vastly different from your social structures on how one is to be facing the past, facing a person or event. However, you must also come to your own peace General. I can escort the Fullmetal Alchemist to Ishval if that is needed. It seems a suitable alternative plan."

Ed answered instead of allowing Mustang's approval or disapproval, "Then it is settled. Are you leaving today or tomorrow?" With a continued genuine response, "I would like to learn from you." Which earned an approving nod from Scar, "We leave in the morning."

Smirking to the General, "See, done."

"You better be back for the Wedding." Mustang muttered.

Rose pipped up, "Wedding?!"

Of course she was filled in on the fanfare. The only way that Mustang was willing to go along with Fullmetal's whipped up plan, was to send Franklin Turner on this Ambassador mission. Of course the Flame Alchemist neatly disguised his intentions of sending the cook along, as a great opportunity for Ed to train the civilian in military ways. Thankfully Ed bought it. Now Roy was a bit more at ease, knowing Frank was aware and capable in handling Ed's other battles. It annoyed the General, since he was the one who wished to take care of Ed, unfortunately, Mustang was now tied up, figuratively.

All the goodbyes happened at the station as each party departed on their lines. It was fun for Mustang and Ed, for each did not have to part until they reached Central. The fun bit due to getting to bit of unnoticed quality time on the train by creating fond memories that will keep each mind occupied at night.

It was not until the evening of the following day, that Ed, Franklin, and Scar arrived at the newly constructed station in Ishval. The heat from the ground still radiated up, even through the sun was tucking behind the horizon.

As they walked into town, both Ed and Franklin marveled at the cultural differences. The area was beautiful. As if walking into a painting. The architecture was unique, with archways holding up wooden overhangs with plant life, carefully planned to shade the markets along the streets. Yes, nature was heavily involved in the reconstruction, which brought birds chirping, some water was flowing in some areas? Ed's eyes traced it all, noticing they made sure to capture rainfall. An Ishvalan monk, turned a wall faucet on, letting out water for horses. Out of the sun and kept cool by the stone. They were in a desolate area, yet brought life to it. Mosaics, colorful mosaics created art outside of doorways and on the ground to lead you into some buildings.

As the markets were now closing at the dusk, Ed asked, "Should I grab something local to wear? I feel-"

Scar stated, "Be yourself. That is all that anyone ever asks."

They did stick out for the traditional wear was affluent. Some were wearing a mix of Amestrian civilian wear, others still with their traditions.

A boy wearing a head scarf, was backing out of a building with a crate of empty glass bottles. This is wear Scar stopped walking. When the kid, around eleven looked up, with his red eyes, he started beaming, "Hello! Welcome back!"

Scar introduced the guests to the teen, "Rick, please meet the Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward Elric, and a friend, Franklin Turner."

Rick excitedly ran up to shake there hands, "Nice to meet you! Welcome, welcome! Will they be staying with us tonight?"

Ed wondered, "I don't know?" Looking to Scar for the answer, instead he was yanked by his automail arm inside. The place was modest and quaint. A home meant to house many people, large dinning and living area. An elderly woman with an eye patch and cane, looked up from her cleaning. Her wear was more traditional, a purple garment with the red with black lined shawl, draped over both shoulders.

Edward questioned shockingly, "Elder Shan?"

She was now smiling from ear to ear, opening her free arm to Edward as she shuffled forward, "It has been some time has it not?" She looked to Scar, "You brought this boy to me have you?" She scooped Ed's hand into hers, patting it with the cooing noise of a happy grandmother.

This time Fullmetal could introduce, looking to Frank, "Please met Elder Shan, she helped the Rockbell's in the Ishvalan War."

"Wait, Winry Rockbell is related to the Doctor Rockbells?" Franklin pieced it together, "No way... ok I know that sounds stupid but sometimes people with the same last names are not related." Astonished, he looked to the woman, "You hear the stories but the feel like they are only in a book. Right now it feels like the book has come to life. Talk about a small world."

"Oh, but is the world that small, my dear? Or is it that we are all somehow connected?" With the Elder's words, white noise became stronger for the alchemist. Truth's voice came forth, '...Everyone is connected by a string, all actions are vibrations felt by the lives you impact, positive or negative.'

Frank put a hand on Ed's shoulder snapping him back to reality, "It's been a long travel hasn't it? We hate to be rude..."

"Oh no my dear, please come follow me. I will give you a room. You will have to share." She shuffled down the little hallway, Ed asked, "So you own an inn?"

She shuck her head no, "This is my house." Ed lifted an eyebrow, "You must have a big family."

Responding, the Elder said kindly, "I do. The whole world. Everyone is welcome here."

The room had two twin sized wooden beds with fresh linens. "Always ready for any guests. Please feel at home. We will met again in the morning." With that she disappeared with Rick.

Ed collapsed on the bed. His phantom pain from his automail arm started up again, starting to rub the shoulder joint, moving his arm about.

"This place is beautiful, and different. Would be a great vacation spot." Franklin started to untie his boots, asking, "Are you nervous about tomorrow?"

"A bit. I am not the best at politics. Maybe we can just go site seeing." Kicking off his boots, Fullmetal wondered, "How can they just let just anyone stay in their house?" Placing an arm over his eyes, he let out a faint chuckle, "Ironic, Hughes did the same thing..."

Frank pulled over a fresh t-shirt to sleep in, "You? While in Pendleton?"

"No. There was a real person who lived in Central, Maes Hughes."

"Oh. He must be a really amazing person."

"Was." Ed turned over and tried to sleep. "He was a really amazing person."

The following day Franklin and Ed got to sight see. Ed picked up some fresh fruit for Elder Shan, and for any others he were to meet.

It was not until lunch, Scar met up with the two, wearing full traditional Ishvalan Monk robes, a shawl, over the left shoulder. "We are now headed to meet with the Ishvalan Elders. I let them know you were here."

While Scar walked them over to the leadership, Elder's building, Ed muttered, "I am beginning to think you are setting me up for failure, Scar."

The place echoed and bustled with voices, which instantly died the moment they entered the building. The place was again like walking into a historical panting. Detail of stories from one wall to the other. The room was filled with light, though remained cool due to the design. Ed was very distracted wanting to study the walls and the stories, which were calming, vastly different than the tension and foreboding penetrating his mind when at Phish.

Taking his attention to the long oval table were everyone had already taken a seat. There was one seat open nearby, and one at the head of the table. Franklin kept to the side and shadows, nodding to Ed to signal he was fine figuring out where to be on his own. Ed headed to the nearest open chair, when Scar placed a hand on his shoulder, leaning down to whisper, "That is your seat." Gesturing to the head of the table.

Fullmetal looked to him like he was crazy. Scar stated with finality, "Go and take your seat." Afraid of offending those present, with any sign of hesitation, Ed obliged, though every fiber in his body hated this. He looked around to all of them, while all of them looked right back. Well this was awkward.

He placed the basket of fresh fruit on the table pushing it toward the center, where it slid but stopped in an odd area. No one reached to fix it.

"Uh, Hi." The curious of hellos and greetings. Then silence. Carefully sitting down, he looked around and an older man, with white hair and a face that seemed patient. Another was balding with liver spot on his noggin, a small tuft of white hair left in the center. This gave some grounding, though now he didn't know where to go with all of this.

The silence continued until someone finally blurted out, "Aren't you going to tell us anything?"

Ed returned with a question, "About what?"

"What your plans are? Mustangs plans are of Ishval, if he wins the election? Armetris' plans?"

Ed was still confused, holding his hands up in defense, "No, wait." Looking to Scar, what the hell did he say to them? He sighed blurting out the truth, "I'm not the best at politically correct." Being honest gave more courage, continuing with, "General Mustang is afraid to be here. All he wants to know: what is it that you still need? What can he help with?" Now it was the Ishvalan's faces that wrought with confusion. Ed quickly added, now afraid he really offended someone, "He's not afraid for his life or anything! More of, showing up here," echoing the man's exact words, "might pour salt on the wounds. He does not pretend to think everything is fine. It is why I am here. I am here to listen to what you need, what your plans are for Ishval, and relay them back to him."

They all looked at each other and there were smiling faces, the one man sitting across from Scar said, "This is just a ploy."

The balding tuft of hair guy chimed, "What if this is real?"

Ed scratched the back of his head, thinking as they spoke among one another, muttering to himself, "Why would you think I am lying?"

The man to his right, had a very curious eye on Ed, and repeated Ed's question with a louder voice for the group, "He asked, "Why would you think I am lying?" And Ed obviously didn't want that for all to hear...

Heads swiveled to a female who spoke up to answer, "You are a State Alchemist yourself! Your people come in here and tell us what we need and want, deciding our fate. They have done so for many years now. "

Scar then stated flatly, "Except General Mustang."

The same doubter across from him, "He killed our people, Mr. Flame Alchemist, he is only helping out of guilt."

Ed concurred, "You're right." Heads swiveled, focused on the Amestrian. It was as if they were watching a tennis match. He repeated, "You are right. Nearly consumed by it. But there is so much more to it than that." It was as if all the Ishvalans knew he was pausing to find the right words, they waited patiently to hear what he was about to say. "General Mustang is haunted by what happened here. Instead of hiding his identity, as some state alchemists did after the war, and instead of allowing the self loathing be the excuse to be the barrier to living, General Mustang took it and made a goal of it. There was no honor in that war, he knew the orders that came down, that there was something inertly wrong. Orders were orders, but he could never hide behind it. To redeem the actions, in anyway, he made the goal of sacrificing himself for his country and for the people. All it's people."

The woman who spoke up was Elder Shan, "So you are also here to help get our vote?"

Ed shook his head, no.

Scar pointedly stated, "He seems fine, he is getting married. So how can you say that he is sacrificing himself for his country?"

Ed looked at Scar in the eyes, "You have no idea." Looking to the table, "... And that is okay." Ed shifted, "I can't use words to show you what I mean. You can only know it by actions. He won't stop giving back. He wants to win for the people, to give the power back to the people. And since you did bring up the campaign, let me just say, he knows saying I'm sorry is not going to bring anyone back to life. "I'm sorry" is a joke. He does not want to play political games with words. He is respecting everyone the only way he knows how. Which he really doesn't know that answer either. How do you step back on these grounds after..."

There was silence as some looked to each other almost not believing what they were hearing.

"Look, another way he is sacrificing, you all can go walking to the market without being followed, placed in a box of societal constraints. He, however, is being chained in his society, by constant judgement. Of his actions, even the good ones. And it is nothing compared to the deaths he caused, its by doing something about it, knowing he can protect the people not control them. To have the power to say, how can I help you? What is it you need?

I am not a politician, I suck at words. I might be saying the wrong thing because, I don't have a clue. I am just here, just gathering any data. How can we help you?"

There was a sudden ferocious murmur. After some time, Ed could not stand to be in the seat any longer, so he stood up. The man to his right said, "Wait!" Thinking he was about to walk out, Ed stopped, simply looking to him, "Whoever made you feel like the elder or leader of Ishval does not belong in this chair, is disgusting. I am sorry, but I can't sit there." He stood back holding the chair waiting for the man to sit. "Please take my seat, you are the rightful owner of the head of this table. I am a guest."

The power of the silence as the room watched this event. The elder monk stood up looking to another at the table, "Elder Shan, you belong there." When she got up, Scar helped her along her way. She took her seat where Ed then pushed her chair in. He then took her seat among all at the table.

The doubter now closer to him reached out to the fruit taking one in hand, looking to it. "Why did you bring us fruit? Peace offering?"

Ed chuckled, "Granny always taught me, you never walk empty handed into someone else's house."

The room broke out into chatter, talking and bantering in such a positive way. Excitement for a good positive future. Ed's eyes fell on the mural, of a man with a tattoo on his arm. Ed's eyes traced it... it was, "That's my brother." Scar had been watching Ed the whole time.

Thankfully, Scar kept Ed's attention as his mind was about to wonder off. He pointed to the balding head with liver spots elder, introducing, "Elder monk for the refugees of the East City slums, Elder Dai, is Rick's grandfather." He then pointed out the patient man that was sitting to Ed's right, "That man is my mentor, a warrior monk, Master Gayasto." Ed nodded listening as Scar continued to point out each and explain who they were while the hall continued to chatter.

The doubter, Monk Bosco, leaned over to Ed. "Fullmetal Alchemist, Alchemist for the people. Did you know that both candidates have already come here?" Cocking his head to the side, Ed shook his head no. The monk threw him a fruit, and Ed started to eat as the man continued, "They both told us their goals, their dreams and aspirations. We wondered if we were worth General Mustang's time."

Ed shrugged, "We were on a mission for the people of Pendleton, and, well, again we can say all that we want but there are some things that do not need to be said. They have to be heard and seen."

"Your nature alone I can honor. How are you so different from the rest of the Amestrian people?" Monk Bosco asked.

Ed started to chuckle, "Now that's a loaded question! I guess, well, inspired by, people. The ordinary people I have found along the longest train tracks of my life."

Elder Shan asked, "And who was your mentor?"

It apparently meant a lot to their culture, for Scar was sure to point out his own. Ed smiled, "I have more than one. Sensei Izumi Curtis, General Roy Mustang, Pinako Rockbell, and," he looked over, "though not formally, but I have learned a great deal from the man sitting right here." Nodding to Scar.

The three days were spent spending time with the families, listening to their ideas, goals, and dreams. The white noise was not horrible here, and Franklin was comfortable enough with Ed's state to go off and learn some culinary skills of Elder Dai's family. Learning true ethnic cuisine and part of the Isvalan heritage, was an honor to him.

Edward and Franklin both learned of a different kind of forgiveness. Not to forget and blindly forgive, but an understanding of where someone is coming from with their actions. To ground themselves by the Earth's energy. There were times were Scar spent time with Ed to train him on meditation. Ed did not know why Scar was keen on this use of time...

Scar did break down and help Ed pick out the right Ishvalan wear, for he had earned the right to be an honorary ambassador to their people. As that day came to an end, Scar and Ed looked out over the city from the tallest building in the city. The colors of the sky were pastel when Ed broke the mutual silence, outwardly, he had seemed at peace, as did his voice, "Nina. Alexander. Do you remember them?"

The Isvalan did not move as he spoke, "I do not recall those names."

"State Alchemist Shou Tucker." Ed's jaw clenched, the white noise started to get worse, determined to find the answers.

Scar answered impassively, "Yes. Sewing-Life Alchemist. I remember him."

Shou Tucker's shadow appeared in the peripheral vision. Fullmetal pressed on, "There was a chimera with him, Nina and Alexander."

Scar turned to face Edward at this point, saying, "Yes. I do recall the chimera who was with him that night."

"How did you kill Nina and Alexander?" Bro...ther... can we play...? "Was it..." The soldier Ed and Al saw against the wall near the alley came to the mind's eye, destroyed from the inside out. "Why did you...?"

Scar tried to placate by answering, "Edward, they were in pain-"

Tucker's voice, 'What are you getting upset over?' The shadow of that man sat on the ledge.

"And so you killed them?!" spat the alchemist as the world seemed to darken around them...

"Was that not more humane? You wanted the chimera to fall into the hands of other Amerstian Alchemists to be test subjects?" Scar drew closer.

Again Shou Tucker came through clear, 'Toying around with a person's life? Yes, a person's life? Indeed!'

Ed was shaking now, one hand on his forehead looking down at Nina pawing him. "We could have helped them!" Tucker yelled over him, 'The possibility was right in font of us, so we tried it! Even though we knew it was taboo!'

Scar spoke with patience, "That is your child naïvety? We have limitations on alkahestry and alchemy."

"DO NOT! Limitations is what we say to stop us! Why could we not reverse it? If a human created it to go one way why could we not go back?!" Both hands now on his head, Ed grasped his skull, while strong hands were placed on his shoulders. The voice of Scar echoed through the noise, "You know this Fullmetal Alchemist. The basic, their molecular was broken down and fused. Deconstruction, Reconstruction. You already have two parts that were deconstructed to make a whole biological being. Deconstruction of one would be to kill the one being. It would not allow life to live without a sacrifice, and you know the answer to holding that soul to life."

Ed's breathing was shallow, grabbing onto his arms, "Did she suffer?"

"No." Scar stood there with Ed in silence for a moment. The sound of the breeze, the cooler air now dancing around there. Stars gleaming and the moon provided light on the roof. "Fullmetal, the General is not the only one haunted." Ed's arms dropped to his sides, while Scar's remained.

Taking a gasp for breath as if admitting all this was shattering his soul. "I was so close, but I am only human... I am not a god."

"You have been cursed with the gift of knowledge. We crossed paths at the ball and I barely recognized you. You are not the same grounded man I met in Central. You are chaotic at the core. You need to hone in, you need to know limitations, you need to let in the healing from the energy around you before you lose yourself completely. Don't be a hero, Fullmetal. Heroes, like my brother, end up dead."

Next: Chapter 08: Promise

Note(s):

• A lot of quotes from the original series in this one.
• Please let me know how this story is doing! What's getting to you? What's not?