I had another crossover like this one, but... really, I couldn't see it going anywhere. It was a bad premise to begin with, and I just couldn't find good reason for some things, like Ed and Al leaving Amestris, and such... so I decided to try again.

And this is what happened. First chapter is SHORT. Others will be longer, I promise. :D

Chapter One: Taken

The banks were deserted. Silt, sand and river sludge colored darkly by ash, gray and black. The smell of sulfur and burning wood was heavy in the air, with a metallic tinge beneath.

Flames clung to bits of wood, fragments of a massive craft, heat peeling the blue and turquoise paint striped with black right off. It's carcass still sat upon the water, consumed by flames, a smattering of unfortunate souls lifeless in the water around it. It's companions retreated southward on the river, fleeing from the wreckage and the one who caused it.

A man stood on the edge of the bank, his clothes covered in ash and dirt, his shoes encrusted with river muck. Blood dripped from his trembling hands, soaking through the gloves he wore, but closer inspection would prove that it was his own, seeping from the tips of his fingers, rubbed raw by the shards of flint in the white cloth.

He stood alone, but there were sounds of one more coming from behind him, running after him. His breath was searing in his lungs, heavy and tired from running along the bank after the ships. He would have continued, but his legs were like lead now, and refused to move, threatening to collapse beneath him.

A woman with long blonde hair pinned in a bun came to a stop next to him, out of breath. She gazed after the ships, brown eyes wide and angry, watching their surroundings as if she expected to see others. Her lips moved soundlessly for a moment, the words resolving themselves in her mind, and she turned to him.

"Colonel, where are the boys...?" She said weakly, her voice trailing off.

The gasping breaths passing his lips were uneven and enraged before, but with that, they grew ragged, making his shoulders shake. Something that sounded eerily like a sob escaped, moisture that was not owed to the river on his face.

"Colonel..."

His legs finally gave out, his knees sinking into the mud and silt. The intensity of the grief over his failure- his failure when they needed him most- overwhelming. His jaw clenched, hands clenching into fists as his breath curdled in his throat.

"DAMN IT!"