Abundant thanks to mebh for betaing, and SJ Smith for an early beta and letting me ask her questions about dogs and wolves.

Ten years ago:

His clothes were black against the white sand of the desert. It might have made him an easy target, but for the nimbus of white-hot flame around him. He reached out, and villages burned. He reached out, and rivers boiled dry. He reached out, and skin blistered and scorched, throats bled with screams until the fire ended their agony.

The demon lord of flame walked the desert, doing his Emperor's bidding.

Five years ago:

The beast leapt at Al, its teeth sinking into his side. Al screamed, his blue eyes wide and panicky, blood staining his green shirt.

It's all my fault, Ed thought, in the breath between horror and action. And then he was screaming, shouting, "That's my brother! Let him go! Let him go!" and throwing rocks, and somehow it was enough. The creature dropped Al- too limp, no no no no- and turned to Ed, all black, bristling fur and teeth and yellow eyes. It tensed to leap.

But Ed reached down and finished the binding circle, and as it leaped, as its teeth and claws found purchase in Ed's flesh, the binding completed. Ed rode the wave of magic and pain, somehow directing the ritual despite the agony of sharp teeth buried in his thigh. The circle had been made to bind Death, to bend it to the sorcerer's will. Ed had no idea what the binding magic would do to a werewolf, but it was the only hope he had left.

The beast screamed, fur burning, scorching, falling away, and it was over. The magic faded, leaving behind a dead man with staring yellow eyes, and two wounded and bleeding boys.

"Al!" Ed screamed, and limped to him.

"Brother," Al whispered.

Ed reached down and lifted his brother into his arms. His eyes, when they fluttered open, were no longer blue.

Four years ago:

"Watch yourself, Lieutenant," Roy said, crouching on the ground next to the tracks. "The creature could be anywhere nearby. And they can stay in their wolf form for hours after moon-set, so there's no guarantee that it's lapsed into human form."

"You watch yourself, Guardian," Hawkeye told him, brusquely. "I'll be fine."

Roy took the lead, Hawkeye and her pistol at his back.

This was not the first time Roy had hunted a werewolf. He was on his guard, expecting to encounter anything from a naked and unconscious woman to a ravening beast.

He didn't expect to find a child.

The boy- maybe twelve or thirteen; Roy was a bad judge- was blond, his hair a little shaggy. He was curled up, one of his hands near his mouth as if he'd wanted to suck on his fingers in his sleep. There was also bright purple-red scarring at his waist where something had torn viciously into his flesh. The contagion was spread by bite. This was his werewolf; there could be no doubt.

"Sir?" Hawkeye said, at his shoulder.

Suddenly a small shape barreled out of the trees, coming to rest near the sleeping boy. It was another blond child, this one wearing a t-shirt and shorts, his hair long and pulled back in a ponytail. "Get away from him," the child snarled, taking up a defensive position between them and the sleeping boy.

Roy blinked. The boy's eyes were lupine-yellow, but he looked human- and the moon had set barely ten minutes ago. Werewolves always had a period of dormancy after they reverted; if he were a werewolf, he couldn't possibly be awake and active now. Just a child, then, and the yellow eyes a coincidence. Roy stepped forward. "Do you know who I am?" he asked. The black-and-silver uniform was distinctive.

The boy nodded slowly, his eyes never leaving Roy's. "You're one of the Emperor's dogs," he spat. "But I'm not going to let you hurt my brother."

Roy was fascinated. People simply did not stand up to the Emperor's Guardians. They were his most elite, most feared servants. "I'm not entirely certain how you imagine that you'll stop me," Roy said, cocking his head.

The boy raised his arms, and in a wide swath between him and the two soldiers, the ground began to undulate. Steel spikes, wicked and twisted, erupted from the ground in a wave. "Like that," the boy said through gritted teeth, his yellow eyes alight. "Now leave us alone!"

Roy froze. Will and motion alone. That had not been hedge-magery, with its talismans and incantations- not that any hedge-mage could have managed something so complex. That had been sorcery. From a boy too young to shave. Who, more to the point, appeared to be completely human. Sorcerers needed a demon-bond to fuel their magic- but this child had no demon, as far as Roy could tell.

"What are you?" Roy whispered, eyes wide.

"Edward Elric," the boy snarled.

Now:

He was running. He was in a forest, and the leaves were green. The sun filtered through the branches to land, scattered and dappled, on the ground. Running felt good- his muscles rising easily to the task, the ground crunching under him, the trees flying past.

Then everything went wrong. It started with a smell- wrong, enemy, danger. Then there was pain. There was someone he was supposed to be protecting. There was blood on the green, green leaves. Something was coming at him. He had to fight- he had to- something was- he had to-

"Brother!"

Ed came awake on his hands and knees, panting. Al was kneeling in front of him with his hands locked around Ed's wrists. "Shit," Ed said, willing his muscles to relax. "Shit," he repeated. He dropped back to sitting, leaning up against the wall. "I'm sorry, Al," he said, closing his eyes.

"It's fine, Brother," Al said, sighing.

Ed frowned. Al smelled like Al, of course. There was no fear-scent on him, which was good, but there was an iron tang in the air. His eyes snapped open. There was blood on Al's cheek running in four ragged lines, just the width apart of Ed's fingers. "Al!" Ed cried, reaching for him.

"Brother," Al said, gently. "It's fine. Leave it."

Ed shook his head, taking Al's face in his hands. The scratches weren't that deep, but they were bleeding enough for a small trickle of blood to make its way down Al's jaw.

"Brother," Al complained. Without thinking, Ed leaned in and licked Al's cheek, wiping blood from the wound with his tongue. "Ed!" Al snapped, and pushed him away.

Ed hit the bed hard, his hands trembling and the taste of Al's blood on his lips. "Fuck," he said, in a small voice. He wasn't a damned dog. He hated losing control like that. "Shit, Al, I'm-"

Al cut him off. "Dammit, Brother," he said, exasperated. "Calm down. Just- just calm down. I know it's almost the full moon, but if I can keep calm, so can you."

Ed closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. He put a hand to his mouth. "Did I wake you up?" he asked, softly, after a long while.

"No," Al said, and then he was a warm presence next to Ed. "I wasn't asleep. It's always hard to sleep at this time of the month."

Ed nodded. It was hard for him, too. Not, of course, as hard as it was for Al. Never as hard as it was for Al. "Do you think you could sleep now?" Ed asked. He looked up. Al must have cleaned off his face while Ed was calming himself down, because the blood was gone; the scratches raw but clean.

"Maybe," Al said. He looked embarrassed. "Could I- could I stay in here with you?" he asked.

Ed nodded. "Yeah," he said. "Sure, Al." They always ended up sleeping together as it got close to the full moon, piled together like puppies. Until the moon changed, and Ed became prey as much as packmate to Al. Ed supposed they should just give in and start sleeping in the same bed on purpose as soon as the moon started to pull on them. They'd both get more rest. But it was just one more reminder that they weren't quite human, and both brothers resisted it.

Awkwardly, Al curled himself up at the foot of Ed's bed, twisting himself a nest out of the blanket. Ed lay down next to him, close enough to have his nose filled with Al's scent, but not touching him. "G'night, Al," Ed said.

Al was already asleep.

Ed woke up with Al curled up on top of him, his head a solid weight on Ed's chest and his knee pressing into Ed's bladder. Ed groaned, and pulled himself gently out from under his little brother. Al shifted, but didn't quite wake. Ed made his way down the hall and into the inn's toilet.

By the time he got back, Al was blinking in the late morning sunlight. "We slept in," he observed, running a hand through his short, blond hair.

Ed shrugged. "Yeah," he said.

Al frowned. "Weren't you supposed to report in to Central?" he asked.

"Whatever," Ed said, reaching for his suitcase. "Shit happens. I'll call Mustang when we have our train tickets sorted out."

"Are we going back to Resembool?" Al asked, carefully.

Ed nodded. "I don't like having to use so many chains," he said. "It hurts, and you're always so freaked out by it. You don't like Granny's cage, either, but you don't... you know... hurt yourself on it."

Al shrugged. "I like seeing Granny and Winry," he said. "But it's not such a big deal. I know we're supposed to be in Central as soon as the moon phase is over. We could find somewhere nearer there; I don't mind the chains."

Ed frowned. "I mind," he said flatly, pulling on his pants.

"I don't want you to be in trouble with Guardian Mustang," Al protested.

"He knows about the moon, Al," Ed pointed out, pulling a new t-shirt on over his undershirt. "He'll give me shit about it, but he knows."

Roy Mustang, Guardian of Flame and Master of Xaphan, was irritated. He fought it, soothed himself. Anger fed his demon, and Roy couldn't afford to give the beast any more power than it already had. Roy was the master of himself and his emotions, he reminded himself.

Still, dealing with Edward Elric inevitably tested that mastery.

"We'll be back in a week," Edward told him, not even acknowledging the fact that he was nearly an entire day late in reporting back from his last assignment. "We're catching a train to Resembool in an hour, and then we'll catch a train back to Central. Y'know, after."

"Elric," Roy said, trying to make his tone of voice reasonable, tapping his fingers on his desk. "You're supposed to be here now, not in a week."

"I'm not bringing Al back to Central right now," Edward snarled through the phone.

"You have responsibilities," Roy pointed out, his teeth clenched. It was the wolf, he told himself. The sleeping, half-formed wolf in Edward wanted to kill the demon in Roy, and Xaphan felt exactly the same about Ed's wolf. Edward and Roy could hardly have a conversation without screaming at each other sometimes, and it was always worse around the full moon. "I know that you don't bother much about them, but if you care to remain one of the Emperor's dogs, then I suggest you try to remember it."

Edward actually growled then, an animal sound low in his throat. Roy almost felt sorry for what he'd said- that kind of growling meant that Edward was losing control. Losing ground to the wolf was the younger sorcerer's second-worst fear, Roy knew.

"A week, asshole," Edward ground out. "Look at a damned calendar."

Roy sighed. "I'm well aware of the date," he said. "I'm also aware that you've more than enough time to make it from New Optain to Central before your brother is... indisposed."

Edward snorted. "And maybe, if you'd give us enough time off of your fucking missions to make some fucking arrangements in Central, that would be practical."

That was unfair. Edward probably even knew it was unfair, but- the full moon. "Elric," Roy said, his voice serious. "Your youth and your status as a prodigy give you a certain amount of latitude in the eyes of the Emperor. I would not advise you to test that latitude farther than you must. If you can make it back to Central now, you should. It could be dangerous not to."

There was silence on the other end of the line. "Fine," Edward said, finally. "We'll be there. But you fucking find me somewhere we can go with a basement, okay?"

"I am not your nursemaid, Elric," Roy said, evenly.

"Fuck you," Edward told him, and hung up.