Chapter 1

A/N I don't own FMA

Somewhere in the middle of, well, nowhere…

"Dammit Al, where are you?" a certain golden haired alchemist howled as a gust of hot wind blew across the barren desert. He let out a few choice curse words as a particularly strong wind scattered sand into his eyes.

Stupid desert. Stupid sun. Stupid sand. Edward scowled. If there was anything he hated more at this moment, it was how incredibly lost he felt against the seemingly never-ending landscape of dunes that surrounded him. He could've sworn that the sun was beating down on him with the force of a thousand philosophers stones- it was too damn hot. And where was Al? He felt as if he had been walking in circles for the past three hours, it was damn near impossible to tell.

"Al, if you don't come out right now, I will transmute Mr. Snuggles into a handbag!" He knew it was one hell of a dirty trick to pull, but desperate times called for desperate measures. Ed smirked. If it was anything that could convince Al to do what he wanted, it was the empty threats Edward insisted he would mercilessly carry out upon Al's newly adopted feline companion dubbed "Mr. Snuggles." A sweet-enough looking orange tabby to the eye, but put one measly finger to its clementine-colored coat and the cat would screech bloody murder (something Edward had quickly learned after attempting to teach the little bastard how to salute).

An empty silence resonated back- not even the standard greeting roundhouse kick that would surely have followed after his menacing comment to Al's beloved housecat. Edward's left eye twitched, and he whipped his head back looking for the familiar face that just had to be hidden around one of these damned dunes.

He groaned, running a glove-clad flesh and blood hand through his blonde bangs. The silence seemed to drag on for an eternity.

Seconds passed. Edward swallowed. Al had to be here, right? Together, the brothers had braved the most formidable of foes, and fought against creatures that any common man would've deemed impossible.

One minute. The ever so present ticking of his silver pocket watch snapped him back to attention. In the moment of his apparent anxiety, he had forgotten that he still had the insignificant trinket on him. He fished through his signature black leather pants pocket and fished out his pocket watch, snapping the cover open.

"Don't forget. 3. Oct. 10." At least the tiny metal engravings winking up at him bore some small resemblance of familiarity. Still, it did nothing to quench his fears of being alone. In the desert. Without Al. Or proper resources. Worse enough, the shorter hand on the clock obnoxiously reminded him that it was already four o'clock- which meant maybe another two- three if he was lucky- hours of sun.

"Don't be stupid," he chided himself, "It's not like the first time I've gotten lost before. Hell, it's not even the first time I've crossed the desert!" Despite the conviction Edward put forth behind his bravado, the words fell flat upon his tongue. He doubted if even Major Armstrong could pull of his little declaration of survival, even if the mustachioed man bursted in to a new over-the-top speech about his quite fruitful, family lineage every five minutes.

"But it's the first time you've been without Al," his subconscious, yet again taunted. He shook his head, eager to dispel the overwhelmingly negative thoughts that clouded his conscious. For the first time in four years, the sudden absence of his formerly armored baby brother, dawned on him. No matter where he had gone or whatever crazy shenanigans he was dragged into- whether it be crazy scientists, trigger-happy criminals, or your run-of-the-mill neighborhood sociopath; Al was with him through thick and thin.

Their respective roles as the reckless younger sibling and the responsible big brother was an immense area of grey between the two of them; as more often than not, their roles were reversed. Once equipped with an impenetrable body of armor, Al stepped in to the role of Edward's protector and shielded him from the oncoming onslaught of harm. And with a pleasant, easy-to-get along-with attitude, it was no wonder that most people branded Al as his elder brother or the famed Fullmetal alchemist.

It was a constant source of frustration for Edward, as it was his job to take care of Al, his job as an older brother to look after Al and yet… It seemed as if, Edward had failed to look after his one and only remaining family member- a topic he dwelled on too many a nights alone on an evening train (or long, uncomfortable desert strolls such as this one).

Gritting his teeth with his newfound resolve, Edward clenched his fist and forced himself to keep walking. "How the hell are you supposed to take care of Al, when you can't even look after yourself?" His golden eyes blazed anew as he reprimanded himself for being so pathetic. He didn't have a habit of moping around in a slew of self- pity and he sure as hell wasn't going to start now.

While his considerable sheer willpower and stamina to drag himself through the desert was quite admirable at the moment, his physical exhaustion was another matter entirely. There was a small slope in the gait of his steps as his auto mail leg felt absolutely crushing. And with the sun glaring down at him, the metal was burning to the touch and positively scorched his nerves. Interestingly enough, was the pinch in his feet from the black, shiny dress shoes he adorned. For reasons he couldn't recall, he apparently had chosen not to adorn the alarmingly red-soled elevator boots he normally wore. Even his tongue felt like a rubbery piece of sandpaper wedged uncomfortably in the confines of his bone-dry mouth. Already, he regretted his previous outburst against Mr. Snuffles in favor for a less parched throat.

He snorted. Even hundreds of miles away, the cat was a complete pain in the ass.

Dizzy and dehydrated, he placed his auto mail leg forward on the rough, sandy terrain, not particularly caring where it landed.

"Oh shit!" Edward yelped as his impossibly heavy metal appendage seemed to sink him further into the depths of golden sand. For a terrifying moment, he felt his bottom half shift deeper and deeper into the desert, as the sand seemed to swallow him whole

Panic flared in his eyes. It was as if invisible hands were dragging him, refusing to yield- he vaguely remembered the same sheer terror he only felt when he battled pride. He twisted his head, looking for anything to pull him out and propel his body up. And of course as his luck would have it, there was only sand wherever he laid his eyes upon.

The flailing of his body only served to pull him in deeper into the sand and he cursed his stupidity. If he had alchemy, he would've transmuted the sand beneath him into a glass column for him to jump out, but alas, he had paid the price in exchange for Al's body. While nothing gave him more joy than the moment he laid eyes on his teenage brother in his malnourished flesh and blood form on the promised day, he couldn't deny how the convenience of how clapping transmutations saved his ass more times than he cared to admit.

He inhaled, catching his final moments of fresh air before he sunk his self into the sand. Ed squinted, unaccustomed to the prickly sensation of having sand in his eyes. Despite the sheer hopelessness of the moment, he couldn't help but feel a smug satisfaction that even with the unbearable heat and obstruction of sand in his joints, that his leg was still fully functional. He couldn't help it- just as quickly as it had come, a surge of pride died down in him as he inspected the superior craftsmanship of his auto mail mechanic: Rockbell's the name, automail was the game.

Ed franticly banged his hands on his kneecap, hoping to dispel the apparent sand that was weighing him down. Of course, it did absolutely nothing, and the frustrated growl that inevitably followed costed him a mouthful of sand. He spat and coughed. He spat and coughed- yuck.

"Aw man, Winry is going to kill me for this," Edward sighed, as the solution to his current predicament dawned on him. His antennae twitched at the prospect of the equally beautiful yet terrifying blond wielding a wrench, which was downright terrifying. "Oh well, maybe I'll pick up some earrings- might just save my ass."

His eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he tried to pry the metal plating of his leg. Tried, being the key word, because pulling strips of solidly attached steel seemed to be downright impossible with human hands.

"Just come loose already!" Sweat beaded his creased forehead and his face slowly turned blue from the effort and lack of oxygen.

"Come on, dammit!" He pulled harder, on the sheet metal, until he was positive that his fingers would fall off from the pressure.

Finally, there was a resulting "Bang!" as a carefully installed screw popped off. Ed's face contorted as he felt the scalding hot metal scorch his sensitive fingertips. Almost collectively, a slew of silver screws popped out of his leg, exposing the thin multicolored wires that lay inside. At once, he felt an impossible amount of sand drain from inside his leg. Almost at once, he felt a thousand times lighter. He crouched, getting ready to propel himself out of the sand. With a strong push of his legs, he felt himself fly several feet as he rocketed out of the sand.

"OWW," He cried as the impact of burning hot sand crashed against his tender flesh. He let out another colorful stream of curses as he lay face down in the sand. All at once, the effort to get up and move seemed impossible to him. Instead, Ed resigned to rolling himself up into a small ball.

Ed was exhausted- there was no denying the familiar ache of fatigue that creeped up on his spine. His automail joints ached, sweat and sand spotted his eyebrow as he tiredly heaved. All at once, his appendages seemed to weight ten tons. The plain effort it took to keep his golden irises open was a chore. He panted like a dog as his rubbery tongue drooped outside of his mouth.

"Gotta…keep…mo…ving" Edward mumbled against the sand. Even so, his body seemed to disregard the order as he flopped back onto the sand. He stared out into the outback. The sun was far too bright for the early evening, and all he could see was an expanse of golden sand. There was not a soul in the desert for miles, not even a single cacti dotted the increasingly bleak view.

"…What the?" Ed squinted his eyes, catching sight of a flowing brown dress coat blowing in the wind. Ed gasped- was this Al? Or just another desert mirage? He was determined to find out.

Ignoring the groan of protest from his body, Ed sprung up onto his feet. Slapping his hands against his cheek, he gaped at the familiar back that didn't disappear when he slapped himself. It had to be Al!

Ed thanked the Gate as he trudged forward, hoping to catch up with Al. Every fiber in his muscles screamed as he willed his legs to walk faster.

"AL! AL IT'S ME!" Edward screamed, piercing the sharp desert wind. He flailed his arms wildly, the rush of adrenaline pounding against his ears. "AL!" he screamed again, hoping to catch his younger brother's attention. It worked! Slowly but surely, Al was turning his head around as he caught sight of his ecstatic elder brother. Ed sprinted, not caring about the soreness that was sure to follow. At least the universe wasn't completely dead set against him.

He approached Al and placed an exhausted arm on his brother's shoulder. "Oh man, Al you really saved my ass…I thought I was all alone in this barren wasteland." Ed took a deep breath, regaining his composure.

"Speaking of which, where were y…" he trailed off as a narrowed set of black eyes met his thoroughly confused golden ones. His composure slipped off his face as recognition dawned on his dazed face. A pale visage with a set of tightly pursed lips greeted him instead of his baby brother's comforting smile.

"Hello there, Fullmetal," a deep baritone voice purred. "Care to tell me what we're doing out here in the middle of nowhere?"

For the millionth time that day, Edward let a colorful stream of curses stream out from between his lips. Desert be damned- he should've just let the sand swallow him whole.