St Edward and The Dragon

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor ever will, Fullmetal Alchemist or the characters within.

Chapter 13

Communication n. 1 The exchange of thoughts, messages, or information, as by speech, signals, writing, or behaviour. 2 Interpersonal rapport.

--00--

Before I die I must just find this rhyme.
Be quiet, my friends, and do not waste my time.

We're marching off in company with death.
I only wish my girl would hold her breath.

There's nothing wrong with me. I'm glad to leave.
Now mother's crying too. There's no reprieve.

And now look how the sun's begun to set.
A nice mass-grave is all that I shall get.

Once more the good old sunset's glowing red.
In thirteen days I'll probably be dead.

Alfred Lichtenstein 1914

--00--

Edward looked through another book and rolled his eyes. Weather alchemy indeed, he mentally snorted. Waste of my fucking time.

He was leant back in a chair leafing through some of the books from Mustang's office as he waited for the files and books he'd requested from the State Library. He'd read the file and found himself intrigued at the thought of such a massive storm, but to put its creation and control down to alchemy was completely impossible for him to believe. Edward had never really thought too hard about the weather. He'd always been more concerned with getting out of the rain rather than what made it rain. Half of the books he'd sent Havoc to get would hopefully give him a basic understanding that he could expand from. In the meantime he skipped through Mustang's books looking for anything remotely weather-related, all the while knowing he wasn't going to find anything.

How was anyone supposed to be able to control something so unstable? Ed suspected that Mustang already knew that and part of him wanted to believe that Mustang was using it as an excuse to keep Ed occupied. But Ed had been in the military long enough to know that everything, even the obvious, had to be proven or disproven as required. But really, weather alchemy? Even Ed could see the tight control Mustang had to keep on his flame alchemy and that was only for the small amount of air he disrupted around the spark from his gloves. Trying to project that control of the atmosphere onto something that apparently covered miles was just not possible. To Edward, anyone even attempting it would have been torn apart from the backlash quicker than he and Al had from their transmutation attempt. He let his breath out slowly at the comparison.

Just as the remembered pain of his automail surgery was the benchmark for every pain he felt, so was that night of horror for most things alchemic. The brief seconds of joy and success when he'd thought they'd done it right, before it had all fallen apart. Those few seconds were his measuring stick for success or failure in every experiment. In that quick movement of his hands between clap and contact, his mind covered that gap in sometimes agonising slowness. Fail or success his mind always whispered to him and he would always silently reply I will succeed. Sometimes Ed felt he made the arrays work through sheer determination only. He had been so determined that he was never going to feel what he had felt that dreadful night again.

But he had, and he still was as he had to close his eyes through a steadying breath. Memories really shouldn't hurt this much. Nothing as ephemeral as memory should cause physical pain beyond that of automail surgery. It shouldn't Ed told himself as he shook against another onslaught of images. He forced himself to straighten up in his chair, opening his eyes and stared blindly at the opened book in his hands. He blinked and looked around the office. No-one seemed to have noticed his moment of distraction and he was thankful for that. He'd already collapsed once this morning.

The flaming array flickered at the back of his mind again. For a moment he thought it was reaching out for him and then it disappeared.

Winds screamed past deaf ears as the head of the Stone Alchemist lolled against the dragon's side. Blue tinged his slack lips and dark patches of flaking skin covered his burnt cheeks. Thick ribbons of scales bound him tightly with only his head free to move. His body was sunken into the dragon's side, his hands trapped between his chest and the dragon. Strips of his clothes fluttered wildly through the thin gaps of the scaly bonds. The Stone Alchemist was a barely noticeable lump marring the dragon's streamlined body.

When the pain surged through Randall's unconsciousness in a flaming array he woke with a cry that disappeared on the wind never reaching his ears.

… It is merely pain.

The words reverberated in his head. Randall tried to respond but he couldn't make his mouth work and his mind was buried under a thick fog. The sharp retort died before it was fully formed. Coherent thought or speech was completely beyond him. He was barely cognizant of an awareness not his own slipping through his mind making his mental fog shift in an undulating wave. For a brief moment Randall heard the roar of the storm around him.

… Sometimes I forget how weak you humans are.

Randall fell back into the darkness as the words blinked at him.

Al rolled over slowly and his hands clutched at the bedclothes pulling them with him. His breathing became rapid and his eyes opened wide as he sat up with a choked gasp. His throat felt rough and his head heavy. He looked around the room wildly for a moment before he realised where he was. Hawkeye's spare room.

He had to force his fingers to let go of the sheets and rubbed at his eyes, feeling them sore and swollen. He bowed his head into his hands. He'd cried for his brother many times over the last two years but never had he felt this bad afterwards. He knew why. He'd deliberately said things – cruel things - because he'd been jealous and hurt and had wanted to hurt Edward in turn. To prove that he, Al, meant just as much as those others that his brother was mourning. Al let his breath out slowly.

Al had always prided himself on his behaviour, on maintaining a calm manner, on being able to cope with anything despite the large gap in his memories. He buried his head deeper into his hands. He'd certainly been calm as he had brought his brother to his knees, as he'd proven that he could hurt Edward just as much as they had. For that one moment he had felt vindicated, almost triumphant at what he had done.

Cruel was not something Al had ever considered himself to be. Not until now. Petty and spiteful and cruel. Al's breathing hitched slightly. He'd been all of those things and in the cold light of morning the reasons he'd used to justify himself with yesterday seemed silly and childish. Selfish and thoughtless. He'd been jealous of those others and he'd been envious of the General. They had parts of Edward that Al didn't understand, parts that he knew he'd never be able to share and it had hurt. It still hurt. Al had been feeling neglected, shut out and all he had wanted was to have his brother back. His brother, not theirs. Not their anything.

So like a selfish child he had lashed out. And it had worked. It had worked so well that once started he hadn't been able to stop. He had gone straight past the point of no return and was once again brotherless. Only this time it was all his own fault. Guilt and self-pity ran through him. He was so tired of feeling this way but he couldn't stop himself. Hawkeye had tried to help him, tried to help him see reason and he had until it had all gotten away from him. Al groaned and lifted his head to rub at his stinging eyes. He owed Hawkeye an apology for yesterday. He flopped onto his back and pulled the sheets up over his face. He owed them all an apology. Especially Edward.

He had to try to make it right again. Somehow. Time to grow up he thought with guilty resignation. Properly this time.

Roy put the phone down with a rumbling groan and stood up. Gloved hands straightened his jacket as he made his way out of his office. He looked around the outer office. Havoc was back and seated next to Edward as they looked at the books now piled in front of them. Fuery was on the phone and Falman and Breda working quietly.

"I'll be in General Felsen's office for the next hour or so," Roy announced as he walked to the doorway.

"Okay, Chief" Havoc replied while the others nodded. Edward looked a bit confused but Roy knew the others would answer his questions. If he asks them Roy thought to himself as he caught the strange black eyes in a locked stare. Bare seconds later and Edward looked down at the books while Roy left the room a slight frown creasing his forehead.

He didn't like leaving Edward behind. What if's worked their way through his head and he almost snorted aloud. He was being irrational. Edward was perfectly safe in the office and if he did get lost in his memories the others would know what to do. Havoc had experience dealing with the aftermath of war and shell-shock and Edward's reactions were similar in many respects. He could be relied upon to settle Edward while the others got Roy back. And Roy was only going to be five minutes away. There really was nothing to worry about.

Except that Roy was worried. Edward's behaviour changed without warning and Roy didn't believe it was just from the memories Edward was recalling. Edward's eyes were still black, there had been that array that had appeared while Ed had been asleep and the array in the fireplace. No, there was something else. Something that made Roy's nerves twitch in the old almost forgotten way they had in Ishbal. Twitching nerves had saved him more than once back then and he wasn't about to ignore them now. He also didn't like knowing that it was Edward making his nerves twitchy. Of all the things Edward was, Roy couldn't – wouldn't – believe that Edward was a threat.

When he entered General Felsen's office and saw the grim faces awaiting him, Edward became the least of his worries.

The silence in Mustang's office broke again and Breda smirked slightly as he met Havoc's eyes, then both men looked across at Edward. The young man was flicking through a book with one hand and scribbling notes with the other. He was completely engrossed in his work and unaware of the others watching him with barely concealed grins.

"… 'looking at the sky?' Well of course that's how you forecast the weather," Edward scornfully told the page he was reading. "A barometer's obviously too hard for you to use, fucking moron."

The others grinned. Edward had been insulting every author of the books he'd read so far. His strangely accented voice mocked the written words in mutters and half-sentences. Havoc didn't think Edward was aware of what he was doing as he argued with the books. It was amusing to watch but it was also disconcerting. Havoc had seen Edward research before and while he was showing the same intense concentration he always had, it had always been silent. Even when writing out detested reports Edward had been silent, saving all his comments for the moments when he had handed them to Mustang. The duels between Edward and Mustang over those reports had kept the office more than entertained.

Havoc's blue eyes were pensive as he watched the young blond. Edward's behaviour was too casual, too easy for it to be a sudden development. Somewhere, some when during the last two years Edward had gotten into this strange vocal habit.

Black eyes suddenly looked straight at Havoc. "Do we have a barometer here?" And Havoc got the immediate impression that Edward wasn't seeing him at all.

"What's a barometer?" Breda asked as Havoc watched Edward shudder and the black eyes blinked rapidly.

"It measures air pressure," Falman explained before Ed could respond. "And I believe that Planning and Operations have access to weather monitoring equipment."

"How do you know that?" Breda asked.

Falman shrugged. "Knowing weather conditions is very important in planning campaigns. We, the Military, naturally have a vested interest in the weather." He kept his voice bland as he continued. "Unless you just ignore the weather in those logistical exercises you enjoy so much?"

Breda almost growled at the verbal hit and Havoc had to choke back a laugh as he and Fuery exchanged amused looks. Falman was the one person guaranteed to upset Breda's usual laidback manner and he did it with an almost frightening ease and to the great enjoyment of their peers.

"I don't need to know the weather when I'm concentrating on supply quantities."

"You do if it rains and the troops get stuck in one place for longer than you've supplied for," Fuery spoke up.

Breda leant back in his chair. "There's an automatic extra two day allowance for all supply requisitions. No-one can predict it further than that," he added smugly.

Edward half-listened to them as he forced himself to breathe slowly and struggled not to sink back into his memories. He'd already collapsed once this morning, he didn't want to do it again. And Mustang wasn't here. His fingers gripped at the book in his hands. He had to keep the memories under control.

"I thought you said this guy's a genius," Ed accused the blond as he threw the book down.

"He is," Alfons replied with a confused expression as he looked from Edward to the discarded book and back. Edward's eyebrow rose in a disbelieving manner.

"His math maybe passable but his chemical knowledge is non-existent," Ed snorted derisively.

"Why do you say that?" Alfons frowned at the other blond and Edward smiled almost gleefully at him.

"Let's go to the kitchen and I'll demonstrate it for you."

Alfons' frown deepened. "The kitchen?"

"Yes, best place to learn… chemistry." The pause was almost unnoticeable but Alfons heard it as Edward's eyes flickered briefly and Alfons wondered what Ed was thinking about as his smile grew soft. For a moment Edward looked lost in a memory before he blinked and bright golden eyes were once again fixed on him. "Come on Al, it'll be fun and given what we're trying to do here, it's something you need to know."

"I already know chemistry," Alfons protested as Edward stood up. "And don't call me Al! I don't like my name shortened."

Edward froze for a moment and then shook his head. "Sorry, I just…" He took a quick breath and his voice became brisk. "I won't call you that again and yes, I know you know chemistry. But it's not enough and you're concentrating too much on the mechanics of the system. All the math and steel won't help us if we get the fuel ratios wrong. And the ratios are useless if we don't look at ways to keep the fuels stable."

"You can't make them any more stable than they are," Al protested.

"I can if we can break the chemical formulae more efficiently."

"And going into the kitchen will do that?" Alfons asked with a sarcastic edge to his voice. Sometimes it was impossible to fathom Edward's thought processes and this was one of those times.

"Yes." Ed's face almost dared him. "Come on, let me show you what you can do with some rocket fuel and vinegar."

Ed blinked rapidly trying to get his racing heart under control. The book shook in his hands and he forced himself to stretch his arms out to place the book on his desk. As he tried to make his fingers let go of the book he looked up and found Havoc staring at him. Concerned blue eyes that nearly had him tipping straight back into his nightmares. Fuck, where was Mustang when you… didn't need him? Edward closed his throat on a groan and shuddered. Sweat blossomed on his forehead.

You do need him, don't you Edward? The insidious voice whispered. You can't help yourself, can you? You need these humans.

Shut up! Edward mentally growled as he bit down on his tongue to stop himself from speaking out loud.

So pathetic.

Edward couldn't get his thoughts to form a coherent sentence. Too caught up trying to stop himself from falling into the dark and the memories, the words became impossible to focus on. He began to ache from the strain.

Poor pitiful Edward. The closer you get to them, the more you will lose. Again.

Edward slumped at his desk as laughter filled his ears until unconsciousness made him deaf.

Soon, Edward, so very soon.

The three men in General Felsen's office were silent as they stood around a large map spread across the desk. Red lines and circles dotted much of the northern areas. Towns and villages all daubed with red ink – some they knew, some they didn't.

"It can't have been a natural storm. It can't be." General Felsen shook his head with disbelief as his eyes tracked the red cross overlaying the words Briggs Mountain Range. The military installation at Briggs was the largest in the country, a massive complex half buried in the side of a mountain. It had guarded the northern border for over half a century, growing ever larger with each successive Fuhrer and Commander and now it was home to well over two thousand soldiers.

"Most of the garrison is still trapped and it will probably take weeks to dig them out." General Stier brushed his hand along a crease in the map. "General Armstrong is going to be an absolute bear over this," he added absentmindedly.

Roy looked from the map to the loose pages next to it. The first pieces of news from the far north and none of it good. Briggs had been hit by the storm. Most of the garrison had been safely underground. No-one knew yet how many had not. The small group of four soldiers that had managed to somehow find a communications depot had been nearly incoherent in their shock and exhaustion. Briggs had been unassailable, had been designed to withstand anything and it had been torn apart by a storm. Not by war but by nature. The soldiers who had reported in had been very unsettled by that fact and three days of slogging through the mountains without sleep and minimal rations had completely unbalanced them. The transcript of their call made for disjointed reading.

"General Armstrong is efficient in the most frightening manner," Roy remarked. "I don't doubt that she will have Briggs up and running within a fortnight."

"And then she'll be on our backs wanting more men and materials," Felsen added.

"She'll get them too," Stier stated calmly. "Briggs is too important."

"Thirty dead so far," Roy said as he motioned to the report.

"That will go higher. We'll increase the recruit intake this year and send some replacements from Eastern for the time being," Felsen replied as he picked up a pen and dragged some paper closer. "The Ishballan settlements have been complaining about high troop numbers in their areas again. We can appease them."

"Send the youngest. They'll benefit best from Olivia's particular brand of command." Roy smirked slightly before he continued. "And that will leave the veterans near Ishbal and less likely to incite any flare-ups there."

"Olivia will have them doing manual labour on the reconstruction." Stier smirked as well.

"Which they will have to do on their own." Felsen took a breath and let it out. "That storm has also hit Northern Command and Northern has none of the defences Briggs has – had. We are going to be facing major reconstruction work there as well."

The room seemed to darken slightly as they all looked back at the map. The brief moment of brevity disappeared as quickly as it had appeared.

"We should have had word from them by now," Stier muttered. "They're not that far from North City."

"A day on foot at most," Roy murmured as he eyed the distance between the two on the map. The red line that mapped the supposed path of the storm went straight through Northern Command.

"There are over five hundred men there," Felsen almost growled.

"We need to send someone from North City out to check," Roy told him. "The City garrison always has half a dozen soldiers on hand. Send them out there."

"We would if we could get through to them," Stier sighed and Roy's eyebrow rose in a silent query.

"The lines to the City are down." Stier took in a deep breath. "We lost contact with the Stone Alchemist and his team here just before Hekat," and Stier placed his finger on the map. "They were on the main Northern rail line. The storm had to have travelled south-easterly to get to that point after it went through Northern Command."

"It took out the City comm lines from the Hekat junction," Roy realised aloud. "And probably the rail ones as well."

"Probably. The question now is will it follow the rail lines straight to Central or keep moving south-easterly?"

"If we get some mobile communication trucks fitted up and send them out with strict instructions not to get too close, we could track it," Felsen mused.

"And maybe send one swinging westward and then up to the north while we're at it," Roy suggested.

"Yes," Stier nodded. "This storm can apparently be seen from miles away so they won't need to get close to it." He looked at the other two. "As soon as we know where it is, we're going to have to activate the evacuation plans. Military losses are one thing but more civilian losses are unacceptable. As far as we know they've been minimal to this point and we need to keep it that way."

"Agreed," Roy said without hesitation and Felsen nodded. Roy pursed his lips slightly. "I've given Edward Elric the task of researching weather alchemy. He doesn't think its possible and quite frankly, neither do I, but there's a chance he may find something that will help us to at least try to break it up."

Stier frowned. "What do you mean?"

"We have to do something about the storm, Jack. We can't just chase after it until it dissipates. We need to see if there is any way to lessen it."

"A storm is a storm, no matter how strange or strong it is," Stier protested. "Like all storms it will come to an end. No-one's going to expect us to fix a storm. The people are going to want us to protect them from it and to help with any damage afterwards."

"I know," Roy said on a breath. "But there's something different with this storm. It moves too fast, it should have dissipated once it left the mountains. It's not behaving like a normal storm."

"And you think alchemy is involved?" Stier asked.

"No. It would be impossible to create and maintain something like that with alchemy. Controlling elements in the air is one of the hardest skills to learn and that's on a small scale. That storm is simply too massive for alchemy."

"Then why have Elric investigate it?" Felsen asked quietly.

"Because if that storm hangs on for another week we will start having people asking us what's happening. If it hangs on for another week like it is now I'll be asking questions. If Edward can prove or disprove weather alchemy we will have either answers or choices. If he disproves it then we carry on as we are until it dies. If he proves it possible then we can use it to try and lessen it."

"Why lessen it? Why not stop it altogether?" Stier asked.

"Because just as alchemy can't make a storm that large, it won't be able to destroy one that size either."

"Liore was rather large," Felsen pointed out almost apologetically.

"Liore was a stationary target." Roy pinched the bridge of his nose. "The array at Liore covered the whole city. It took days to draw. This storm is moving. There's no array that allows for such rapid movement. There's the rain and wind as well. I can make the air move but I couldn't keep the elements tied together for more than a few minutes and combine them to make rain at the same time. And certainly not on the massive scale this storm is."

"So, we put the mobile units out to track it and we evacuate as many as we can," Felsen stated after a short pause.

"It's our safest course," Stier concurred.

Roy nodded. He'd learnt a long time ago that even when you covered all the possibilities it always came down to the safest course. Safest for who his cynical side queried silently as they began to draw up the required orders.

The sounds of a phone ringing and muted voices had Edward opening his eyes with a grumble. His head felt heavy and he blinked several times before he could focus properly on his surroundings. Mustang's inner office and that was Falman he could hear on the phone outside.

"You awake now Ed?" Havoc's question caught him unawares and he shifted to find the tall man hunkered beside the couch. The couch he was lying on.

"How long…?" Ed asked and had to swallow to clear the thickness in his throat.

"Since you collapsed?" Havoc responded and leant back on his haunches. It was a casual enough movement but Edward could see Havoc was watching him carefully. "Not long really. About thirty minutes."

Edward let his breath out. "And the… Mustang?"

"He's still in his meeting. We were going to wait another fifteen minutes before we called him."

"Thanks," Edward breathed the word as he shifted on the couch, lifting up one elbow.

"Of course if you'd started to fit or froth at the mouth we would've called him earlier," Breda told him as he approached and Edward rolled his eyes at the stocky man.

"How considerate of you, Breda," Edward's voice was sarcastic as he met the unrepentant grin of the older man. He accepted the hand Breda was holding out and was efficiently pulled up into a more comfortable position. Havoc stood up and Edward looked at both of them as he rolled his shoulders. How long was this going to go on for he wondered. How long would it be before the memories lost their power over him?

Never, Edward.

He managed to stop any reaction from showing on his face. He really didn't want to have to try and explain the voice in his head. Especially when he didn't know what it was. Sometimes it felt as if he was hearing two different voices speaking the same words at the same time. A distorted echo of amusement under the hate. Somewhere in his memory was the original voice, he knew that and one day he would remember.

You remember me, Edward. You just don't want to admit it.

Edward shook his head and swung his legs off the couch. I don't remember you, he said silently as he stood up. The voice laughed at him.

You will. I'm more than happy to kill you again.

Ed nearly fell over and Havoc and Breda grabbed at him as he swayed. He straightened up carefully in their grip and forced himself to breathe slowly. He tried to keep his mind as blank as he could, seeking something that would keep him from falling apart. Envy. Envy had killed him once before. Envy. Edward shook as he fought against the rising nausea. The voice couldn't be Envy. Envy was dead. Envy was on the other side. It didn't sound like Envy. It couldn't be Envy.

"Take it easy, Ed," Havoc said and Ed barely heard him through the tumult in his head.

"You moved a bit quicker than you should have," Breda told him and Ed nodded warily as he found a quiet centre of white in the middle of mind. He began to draw it closer finding a sense of familiarity within it.

"Yeah, bit dizzy," he agreed glad of their wrong assumption for his loss of balance as he managed to claw his way back into some semblance of calm.

"You going to be fine now?" Havoc queried noting how pale Edward looked.

"Yeah. Yes." Ed eyed them both with a silent sigh. He had to offer them something. "It's… the memories just get a bit much, that's all." They nodded and Ed was startled to see more understanding in their faces than he had expected. He shouldn't have been surprised he told himself. They were soldiers, they'd have more than enough of their own memories to cope with. Which meant they wouldn't press him unless he wanted them to. "Thanks," he repeated, meaning it more than he had earlier.

Breda let go of Ed's arm. "Feel up to getting back to work?"

"I guess so. Even though it seems a waste of time." And it would keep his thoughts from spiralling into places he didn't want them to go. Time enough when he was alone for that breakdown.

Havoc shrugged and let Ed stand on his own. "We do a lot of that some days." Breda laughed as Falman appeared at the door.

"Feeling better, Edward?"

"Yeah, thanks Falman."

"That was Miss Rockbell on the phone. She's just arrived in Central and is on her way to see you."

Al sat at the kitchen table in Hawkeye's neat apartment and stared at the bowl of fruit in front of him.

"Are you hungry?" Hawkeye's voice was gentle as she watched him. Al shook his head. He wasn't hungry and he wasn't thirsty and he wasn't scared and he wasn't crying. It took him a moment to realise he wasn't quite right as his stomach rumbled and the itching on his cheeks proved to be unnoticed tears.

"He's in nearly every memory I have," he said. "Even when he's not there, he is. Everything I can remember, and everything I've been told… it's all about Edward. All about Brother. I've been chasing after him, walking beside him ever since I could crawl I think. Maybe even as soon as I was born. These last two years he's all I've been wanting, needing. Someone who could tell me about all the years I don't have memories for. Someone who could tell me why I couldn't remember. Someone who would give me answers to all the questions I had. And I thought Edward – Brother – would be able to do all that. Because he was everything I know."

Al's voice dropped slightly and he leant forward, turning his head to the side and placing it on the table. He looked across the room at the other wall and then refocused as his hand drew lazy circles on the tabletop in front of his eyes. Hawkeye watched him carefully. Calm voice and calm manner at such odds to the breakdown she had witnessed yesterday.

"But I don't know him anymore. He's different now. He's not how I remember him to be and I hate him for that. I hate him for not being who I think he should be. I hate myself for wanting him to be what I remember. I hate him for leaving me behind. I hate him for not coming back sooner. I hate him for coming back and I hate me for not wanting him here at all now. He's changed and I haven't. I hate myself for that too. I feel like I'm a ten year old kid again thinking – knowing, hoping – he's going to get his mother back simply because his brother said we would."

Hawkeye had never heard Al speak so unguardedly before. He'd been the embodiment of tact and diplomacy, always apologising and clearing up after his brother. Al had never hesitated to pull Edward up either, with a judicious application of humiliation when logic failed. But now he was sounding so objective and dispassionate about both himself and his brother, words falling from his lips without any apparent mental censoring. Hawkeye wondered if he was feeling as empty as his words were sounding.

"I'm not ten anymore, I don't know how old I am. Four years that I don't remember and I'm two years younger than I should be. Are you sure I'm only fourteen?" Al turned his head slightly and he looked straight at her. "You all tell me I'm fourteen but my last memory is of being ten and four years missing with the last two I do remember, I should be sixteen. Why aren't I sixteen?"

"Because when you woke up two years ago you told us your name was Alphonse Elric, you were twelve years old, you wanted your brother and did we know where he was," Hawkeye replied calmly. She didn't add that he had not recognised any of them and that he had been hysterical at finding out Edward was gone and that he couldn't remember. He had been kept sedated for the next few days until Winry and Izumi Curtis had arrived and the sight of recognisable faces had calmed him down somewhat.

"I don't…it's a bit fuzzy." Al only had disjointed memories of his first week of consciousness. It still unnerved him when he thought about how it had first felt to realise he had a great big hole in his memory. It had not been pleasant time for any of them he thought now.

"I know," Hawkeye murmured gently.

"I could have woken up like Ed did. Not knowing anything and empty like he was. I could still be like that… he could still be like that. I thought I could wait forever, look after him for as long as it took because he was my brother and he could bring back my memories. I thought that all he needed was me and everything would be fine and right." Al let his breath out. "I've followed him all my life and it's not enough. I'm not enough."

"Al…" Hawkeye breathed his name and Al lifted his head, surprising her with the acceptance in his expression.

"It's okay, I finally did what you wanted me to. I guess I've just grown up."

Hawkeye shook her head with a tiny smile. "You've been growing up for awhile now Alphonse, and you are more than enough. Not just for Edward but for the rest of us as well." She reached across the table and placed her hand on his. "You have always been more than enough."

"But…"

"No buts. With Edward or without, you have always known what you what you wanted and you've always done all you could to get it. You've never done anything that would hurt others, you've always been polite and tactful. You've always acted grown-up and you've always seemed older than your years. The last few days you've behaved as a typical teenager and while it hasn't been easy, it hasn't been as bad as you think." Her smile widened slightly. "I wish the office would grow up sometimes." Al felt his lips twitch with an answering smile. "You have strength and intelligence and common sense Alphonse. Growing up isn't so bad really." Hawkeye's voice was gentle and Al nodded slowly.

"I guess because I always thought I was already grown up and Ed seems so much older and adult ..."

"He is older. Wherever he's been has seen to that. But he's still your brother. He will never stop being your brother."

"I know," Al said as his head dropped to the table again. "I've been jealous and angry and selfish and I thought he had forgotten me. I was so happy to have him back. All I could see was my brother but it wasn't the same for him and I resented that. I thought I was being understanding and patient, but I wasn't, was I? Not deep inside where I kept on ignoring what I really felt." Al sighed. "I'm going to have to apologise – again – and tell him all of this."

"Yes you are." Hawkeye's smile was audible and Al automatically groaned wondering why he didn't feel as reluctant as he had before.

"Will he want to speak to me?"

"Yes." Hawkeye's hand tightened over his for a moment and then she sat back. "He didn't want you to leave yesterday. He was just as upset as you were about what happened."

"He's my brother…"

"And you are his."

The dragon roared as it rolled across the wind currents. Thunder replied and the wind howled beneath. The dragon flowed upwards in a dizzying spiral only to slide down through the rumbling clouds as he played on the winds. Lightening flared around him and he danced between the columns of power. Heightened senses kept him from being struck as he twisted and writhed. His broken scales flickered with fragmented arrays as he passed. He could feel the electrical charges building and seeping through his long body as he swooped and circled. He looked forward.

Not long now.

… You are impatient.

You insisted on wasting all those months in the mountains. The dragon snorted.

…You weren't ready.

I've always been ready. The dragon scoffed as he soared close to the lightening, feeling it crackle against his scales.

… You couldn't get yourself off the ground. Did you plan to slither all the way to Central?

The dragon didn't quite flinch at the sarcasm but a twitch ran along the serpentine form. There was no ready comeback to the ghost this time. The passage back through the Gate from the other side had not been pleasant and he had landed in the mountains severely damaged and extremely weak.

I would have found a way the dragon muttered.

… You've always wanted to be independent.

The dragon heard the smiling reply and growled deep in his throat. And I got stuck with you. That was not what I wanted.

… You already know the answer to that one.

The dragon sighed and the ghost appeared to smile. It wasn't a nice smile.

… No-one ever offers enough to get exactly what they want. Even those who give up everything will only receive a pale shadow of their desires.

All I want is him dead.

… You will die too.

Death doesn't scare me. Been there done that.

… So has he.

A deeper edge echoed within him and as the dragon blinked a single eye flickered in the momentary darkness. The dragon didn't hear the bound alchemist scream as lightening flared again and an array burnt in golden flame.

… So have I.

So have I.

Edward wondered where that thought had come from and an array flared behind his eyes. He frowned. It was as if he'd been answering someone but he hadn't and he'd seen that array before somewhere if he could just remember where.

"Ed?"

Ed blinked and turned to face Breda. He shook his head slightly at the older man's poorly disguised concern.

"Just a stray thought," he replied casually. He knew they were worried about him, wondering what was wrong with him. They'd be watching him like a hawk for the next week or so he thought. Between them and Mustang he'd never be left alone but at least they weren't completely coddling him. Falman had offered to meet Winry in his place and escort her to the office and the others had offered up Mustang's inner office which would give him the illusion of privacy at least. Edward had no doubts that the others would be huddling around the closed door as soon as they could. "How much longer before Mustang gets back?"

Havoc shrugged as he looked at the clock. "He said he'd be an hour and it's over two now. Something's gone wrong somewhere I'm guessing and we'll hear all about when he returns." He looked over at Fuery. "Might be an idea to clear some lines and things so we're ready for him."

Fuery nodded and Ed watched as Fuery picked up the phone and Breda began clearing away completed files and reports. Ed found himself straightening up the files on his desk. Like part of a team. He sighed. They were going to be hurt when he left. Ed knew he was connecting with them but not enough yet to sway him from his intention to leave. Mustang might hope otherwise but Ed was going to prove him wrong. Nothing so far had made him want to stay and the only one who might have changed his mind had walked away from him yesterday.

The door opened and he looked up to find the deep blue eyes of Winry staring at him. He noticed she didn't seem to have changed much since he had last seen her. A bit taller and her face was thinner than he recalled. Her hair was different, shorter at the sides and pulled up at back somehow. It made her look older and he realised she'd be eighteen now. Just like him. Only Al had had the years stolen from him.

"Hello Win," he said easily.

"Edward." She walked closer and he could see she was slightly wary. He wasn't surprised given his accent and strange black eyes.

"Al told me I have you to thank for getting my automail back. It looks good."

"You don't remember the operation?" Winry questioned, her eyes narrowing as she heard again the unusual sound of his voice.

"No. I don't remember any of the time in hospital."

"Why not?" Winry almost snapped the question at him and he shrugged as casually as he could. The last thing he wanted was an offended Winry and he could see that it wouldn't take much to set her off. Some behaviours never changed he thought wryly.

"I don't know." He wondered how he could explain that he had apparently been in two very different worlds at the same time for those six months. He let his breath out. He had to at least try. "Let's go and sit down." he walked towards Mustang's office and she followed him.

"Where's Al?" she asked as he closed the door behind them.

"He's with Hawkeye," Ed replied non-committally.

"You're not going to let him join up, are you?"

Ed shrugged. "If he wants to, then he can. It's his choice." He sat down on the couch and turned to look at her. "I know he's only fourteen but if they'll accept him…"

"No!" Winry cut him off and walked to stand in front of him. "He's already lost four years of his life, he lost you! He could die next time!" Just like my parents echoed after her words and E's back stiffened.

"It will be his decision, Winry," Ed reiterated. "I won't talk him out of if it's what he truly wants so don't ask. What happened to me isn't likely to happen again and as far as I know, we're not fighting any wars at the moment."

"What did happen to you, Ed? Where did you go?"

Ed patted the couch. "It's a long story so why don't you sit down?" He waited and after chewing at her bottom lip for a brief moment moved abruptly and sat down. He had no intention of telling her everything and he kept a tight grip on his self-control. The last thing he wanted was to have a breakdown in front of Winry.

"I didn't intend to leave. I don't know what you know about what happened back then but Al was being held by the homunculi and I had to get him back." He watched her carefully and saw her frown.

"The General said he'd dropped you off some place and hadn't seen you again."

"Yes, that was where Al was."

"Why didn't you tell anyone? We could've helped!" Winry glowered at him.

"Because there were other dangers out there, Win. Mustang had his own problems with the State to take care of and besides, they wanted me. Anyone else would've just been in the way and would've died."

"Rose was there," Winry stated. "She didn't die."

Ed's hands fisted as he fought the memories back down. "Rose had something they wanted." In both worlds he added silently. At least in this world she had survived unlike Noa. Both betrayed by the people that used them.

"What did she have?"

"Her baby," Ed answered absently. "They needed a conduit for the Gate and the baby was suitable."

"What?" Winry's outraged incomprehension brought Ed back and he chose his next words carefully.

"There's a Gate. It's only accessible to alchemists and under specific conditions it can manifest itself. But it needs humans in the process. In this case a baby was to be used."

"But …"

"But I stopped them from using him and instead I got caught up in the Gate and ended up going through it and into a different world." Ed left out nearly everything that had happened. His first trip through the Gate, Al's return to flesh, the fight with Envy, his death, Al's sacrifice and Ed's final decision. Telling everything would take hours and he knew Winry would question and argue throughout. Arguing was something she and he did well. It was something they'd always done.

"A different world?" Winry's eyes were wide and her mouth hung slack.

"Yes. One without alchemy."

Winry blinked and her mouth opened and closed twice. She shook her head and stared at him. "You were in another world with no alchemy?"

Ed nodded and he waited. Winry wouldn't be stunned for too long and he had never been able to understand the way her mind worked when it came to anything other than automail.

"Why didn't you come back sooner?"

"Because I couldn't. To try and open the Gate meant I needed to be able to do alchemy." Ed's voice was flat.

Winry looked taken aback for a moment and then her jaw tightened. "So how did you get back then?"

"There was a group of people who thought they could make alchemy work."

"And they did obviously," Winry said before Ed could continue.

"Yes." Ed paused unable to find the words to describe that last day. "I woke up here and found out I'd already been here six months. But to me I've only been back a few days."

"What do you mean?"

"Just what I said. The last six months that you all tell me I've been here don't exist for me. I've been gone two years, no more, no less."

"You don't remember being in the hospital or having your automail done or anything because you were still over there?"

"Yeah, that about covers it," Ed replied. "I don't know why or how it happened and I've never heard of it happening to anyone else either."

"But you're back now, right?"

"Yes." Until Mustang understood that there really was nothing holding Edward here and let him go.

"For how long?"

"The rest of my life," Ed replied honestly.

"What are you going to do now?" Winry asked and Ed could sense a change in her manner.

"Stay here and help out for a bit, see Al settled in." Ed shrugged.

"And what about me?"

Ed frowned. "You? What do you mean? You have your automail and were working in Rush valley for that mechanic. How'd that go? Did you go back afterwards?"

"I couldn't go back, I've been looking after Al for the last two years." Winry's tone was clipped.

"I knew he'd be safe with you." Ed smiled. "If he decides to enlist, you could go back to Rush Valley."

"I'm not letting him enlist!"

"I told you earlier, it's his decision. You can't choose for him." Ed tilted his head to one side. "Al knows his own mind Winry. He's intelligent and more than able to understand what he's getting into. Anyway, he hasn't decided yet so it doesn't matter. You should think about what you want to do and not worry so much."

"What I want? All I want is for us three to be together and now that you're back, you're going to let Al go, and you don't seem to care!"

"We are together. Just because we're not all in the same place doesn't mean I don't care." Ed took a breath. "Al and I aren't chasing after the Stone anymore and we don't have all the responsibilities we had before. Al can have a future and he can do whatever he wants with it. I spent four years searching for that Stone so he could have that chance and there is no way in Hell I am going to stop him!" Ed stood up and paced away from the couch, calming himself down before he turned to Winry again. "You can choose your own path too now. Back to Rush Valley or wherever you want. Granny's probably counting on you taking over one day as well. You're going to be the best mechanic in the whole country, if you're not already." Ed smiled slightly.

"What are you going to do, Ed?" There was an edge to her voice and Ed's forehead creased in response.

"I don't know yet. Depends on whether I stay in the Military or not."

"You should leave. You could come home while you decide." A thread of steel became evident in her voice and Ed shook his head.

"No, Resembool isn't home anymore." Ed saw her flinch and wondered why. "Home was always where Al was for me but that's changed now. I thought for awhile that I'd found a new home…" with Roy "… on the other side but…" he paused and closed his eyes for a moment. "I don't want any more homes. Not for awhile." His eyes opened and the pain of Roy's betrayal shone through briefly before he got his self-control back.

"But you are home, Ed. This is your home," Winry responded and Ed sighed. She didn't quite understand and he knew it was his fault for not explaining it further.

"Home has never been about places with me, Win. Home has always been where the people I loved were. I learnt that after we burnt our house down. Resembool was home because you and Pinako were there but it's not my home."

"Come back with me and we can make it your home again."

"No Winry. It's not that simple and I don't want to make a home. It's not something you can force and I'd only want to leave if you tried."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do." Ed sat down next to her and took her hand in his. "Winry, I love you. You're like a sister to me and I know you want to help, but I don't need it. I need to know that you are out there living your life and doing what you want to do. Don't regret not taking the chance when you could." Ed felt Winry's hand grip at his and then she froze and when he stopped talking he looked at her, wondering why she was staring at him with an almost angry expression.

"Do not tell me you love like a sister, Edward!"

"But I do, Win." His lips curved a little. "You've always been part of the family. The sister Al and I never had."

"You don't love me then." Winry pulled her hand away and stood up. She looked down at him. "You're not in love with me."

"No." Ed stood up and reached out to her but she moved away. "I'm sorry Win. I know it hurts…"

"You don't know! All my life it's been you and Al and then as we grew up all I wanted was to be with you forever but you only ever saw Al. I've kept him safe for you, I gave up everything to make sure he'd be waiting here for you. I thought when you came back we'd all be happy. You and Al and me and you. But no. You didn't know us at first and you barely looked at me and when you do know us, now you say you don't love me…"

"I do love you…"

"But you're not in love with me?" Winry crossed her arms in front of her, hugging herself.

"No, not like that. Not in the way you want me to. And I do know what its like to love someone who doesn't love you back." Ed's voice shook as he walked around her. "Trust me, it's better to find out now before someone really gets hurt," he added almost to himself.

He felt a bit dazed. He hadn't expected such a declaration. Not from Winry. Not from someone he considered his sister, his best friend, his mechanic. Hell she was more familiar with parts of his body than he was. It just didn't seem right and he couldn't comprehend it but he wasn't about to reciprocate to something he didn't feel. Roy had shown him just how badly falling in love could go and despite the betrayal and pain, Ed knew he hadn't fallen out of love with Roy. He hated the man but love wasn't something you could just switch on or off. Underneath the hate Ed still remembered the love he had believed they both had shared.

"Ed?" Winry was frowning at him now and he shook his head in return.

"No, I'm not going to talk about it." He watched as she swallowed hard.

"You fell in love with someone else?" Her voice was rising again.

"Yes, and it's over now, so can we please finish here. Mustang's probably back by now and I have research waiting," Ed spoke quickly wanting Winry to go and Mustang back to distract him from the memories he could feel clamouring. Everything he did or said somehow led back to them.

"You're not getting out of this that easy Edward," Winry said in a far calmer voice than Ed expected. "You have a lot of explaining to do if you think I'm going to leave it like this. You owe me a proper explanation."

"Not this time." Ed's eyes burned, his accent thick and he stood tall. "Not these memories."

"Tell me. How did you fall in love? Who was she and why didn't she love you back? Were you keeping secrets again?"

"Enough." Edward suddenly looked much older. "I am not going to have what happened used in some sort of competition between you and someone I will never see again. It is none of your business and it will stay that way."

"I deserve to know! Even if you don't love me, I'm still family! What about Al? Does he know?"

"Al does know," and it wasn't Ed replying. Ed and Winry turned to the doorway. Al stood there with Hawkeye and Mustang behind him. He looked from one to the other and stepped into the room heading straight for Ed.

"Al…"

"I do know what happened and Ed is right. It's none of your business Winry. He's already been hurt enough, he doesn't need to relive it again."

Ed stared at Al as if he'd never seen him before. Al stretched out his hand and Ed kept staring at his brother. After a moment that seemed to stretch for minutes Ed ignored the outstretched hand and wrapped Al in his arms. Al hugged him back gripping tight and blinking hard.

"I'm sorry," Al whispered.

"Me too."

"Breda, organise several squads to be ready to leave for the north in three hours. Make sure they have mobile communication units and clear lines to us. They are to find this storm and not to approach. Once they see it they're to start heading back keeping it in sight at all times. Falman, I want full scale maps of Briggs and Northern Command. Find out the closest bases and get as many men as possible moving in for recon and rescue. Fuery, go over every communication line we have going North. Find any that work and organise to make contact with North City, see what help they can offer."

Mustang paused and looked around the office. Ed and Al were still in his inner office and Mustang didn't want to interrupt them just yet. Hawkeye had taken Winry to the mess hall for coffee and comfort and he hoped it wouldn't take much longer. He needed her back here.

"Havoc, I need you to accompany General Stier to the parliament in an hour. You are going to liaise between us and them. Treat it as a watching brief. Only tell them what the General says you can and if you hear anything interesting report back here."

"Sure thing, Chief," Havoc nodded. He'd done this before. His placid face and manner was very misleading and invited all kinds of confidences.

"Does anyone know if Ed had any luck with his research?"

"Nope," Ed himself replied. His eyes were slightly red and Al's looked the same as they re-entered the office. Mustang eyes them carefully and then nodded.

"Is there anything that would affect it at all?"

"Not on a scale that would be required if this storm is as big as you say, but I didn't get through all the information."

"Could you keep looking?" Mustang had the feeling he was grasping at straws but he really couldn't see what else he could do.

"We'll both look," Al spoke up and Mustang noticed that Ed didn't refuse, so he nodded at them.

"Thank you."

I can almost smell him.

The dragon flew in lazy circles within the storm. His path criss-crossed over the winds that held him up, his long length arching in a slow roll.

… You exaggerate.

But can't you feel it? So close now.

… Are you so impatient to end this?

All games have to end.

… You might not win.

Oh I will win. The dragon laughed. This isn't a game I can lose.

In an ancient room buried deep under Central's streets an intricate circle that had faded into the dusty parquet floor a week ago began to glow. Dim outlines became sharp and clear and the room was bathed in soft blue light.

… There are prices to be paid.

The words echoed in the empty room.

In Mustang's office, Edward Elric paused as a shiver went down his spine.

In the middle of the storm barely a day out of Central, the dragon laughed again.

..

Alfred Lichtenstein (1889 – 1914): Leaving For The Front

Author's Note: So the dragon, illogical and annoying beast that it is, decided to let me finally get this chapter done after making me re-write it several times (and I'm still not completely happy with it ~sigh~)… as is fairly obvious, the end is in sight and rather than go play with the other monsters I've decided to concentrate on getting this one completed first… I will finish the others. I won't leave them undone... Giitus eanat

I'd like to thank everyone for their patience and wish you all a Merry Christmas and a Safe New Year... Feliz Navidad

silken :)