The Empath Alchemist {Edward Elric X Reader}

37

(Ling sketch ft. my class notebook)

-

When did my world begin to revolve around you?

That was the question that repeatedly drifted through Edward's head as he lay on his best friend's bed, his head resting on his right arm which was folded behind it. He was on his side, eyes wide open though the only other pair within the room was closed.

It was dark in her room, without the lamp to illuminate it with its harsh artificial blare. The faded curtain was still drawn a bit, allowing a sliver of moonlight to gently caress the space and everything within it, including a few loose strands of Ed's hair and his nose.

He watched her as she slept away, hopefully conjuring dreams of a better life, a better future than the reality she was living now. Her body was turned to him, her knees curled up and tucked to her chest while her arms lay limply over the covers, one almost blocking Ed's view of her pretty face. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, watching the way her body rose and fell with her gentle breaths as if he were mesmerized. And he was. He couldn't deny it any longer.

When did his world begin to revolve around her?

He knew he was whipped simply because he was still laying there with her. In the dark. He should have been back with his brother an hour ago, but instead he stayed in content submission to (Y/n)'s request.

He had held her for a little while longer after she'd climbed onto him, rubbing circles over her back and tracing soft lines down her spine with his automail, his metal fingers producing quiet clinking sounds as they moved benignly in the stark silence of the fanciful room. Each time her arms tightened around his neck, or her legs shifted to somehow secure themselves even tighter around his torso, he sank deeper into her.

That was all that mattered. Not Roy, not the negative emotions that began to stir within (Y/n)'s mind, not the worry or hate or sadness, but the feeling that melted all of that away with a simple loving embrace. Edward was glad she initiated that hug, or else he would have been struggling with how he could have potentially comforted her without overstepping his boundaries all night.

When they pulled away from each other, they both lay down on the dusty pillows, which had to be wiped off before they could actually get comfortable on them. Edward made sure to turn and reach behind him for the bowl of food that he'd come to bring her in the first place, and he was glad to see that she ate without any complaints.

There wasn't much talking that transpired between them. Maybe the occasional comment here or there, but words were hardly exchanged. They didn't need to be. There was nothing else for them to really say to each other. So to replace their nonessential conversation, they just looked at each other, taking in their presence. In retrospect, Edward admitted that it would have sounded creepy to anyone who just so happened to hear about it out of context (not that he would willingly let someone in on his personal business), but he'd never felt more whole than he had in that moment. As his eyes bored into hers, he understood what he needed to understand, saw what he needed to see. He'd studied (Y/n)'s face more times than he could count, but he would have done it again and again, for hours and hours on end just to fall back in love with the natural curl in her lashes, the faded acne and battle scars on her face, and the soft color in her eye that never failed to ease him into a state of lightness.

Nothing needed to be said between them at that moment because there was a clear, mutual connection between them that only the heart, eyes, and mind could see. One that words could not form to verbalize. And yet, even so, there was something that Edward still ached to say that he failed to for the second time. There was one phrase that had been dying to get out of his mouth and into (Y/n)'s ears, one single phrase that consisted of three simple words that he could not force out, no matter how badly he wanted to. That phrase was the only thing that he felt he needed to speak in the midst of their silence.

I love you.

Could she hear it? The way the words jumbled up against his clenched teeth like a wave crashing against a dam? Could she understand it just by the way he gazed at her like he would never, ever gaze at anyone else? Could she feel it in the way his lips touched hers shyly, as if he hadn't pulled her into him with dominant fervor in order to feel her mouth on his the first time they shared a kiss?

He wanted her to hear it, to understand it, to feel it. Even if they'd agreed to wait, he wanted her to know so badly. She deserved to know, especially now. Edward had told her that he didn't want a day to go by where she thought that she wasn't loved. And that was true. She needed to know that she was loved, not just by himself, but by his brother, and Havoc. By Winry and Granny, by Riza- by the entire Mustang Unit, and above all, by Roy. They all loved her, truly they did, and how could they not have? (Y/n) was the kind of girl you stood in front of a train for with a big stupid smile on your face, because you'd know that you would be risking your life for someone worth it and more.

Oh, how she was loved. Edward didn't want her to think that she wasn't, and telling her that she was after she'd second guessed her own guardian's devotion to her seemed to be like something she needed.

But Edward still couldn't do it.

He'd mastered all the elements of Alchemy and science, trained restlessly, grieved the loss of his mother, raised Al on his own, committed the Ultimate Taboo at eleven, fought with the guilt of losing his brother's body, endured the excruciatingly taxing and painful process of rehabilitation, joined the military, apprehended more criminals than he could count, battled Homunculi, saved lives, become a town hero, and more. And yet, he could not do something as simple as speak three words to the person who deserved to hear them the most.

Edward closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, chastising himself internally as to not wake the unconscious girl before him with his own disappointment in himself. He'd done so much to be proud of, truthfully, and he was only fifteen years of age, to be sixteen in four months. He'd fought, endured, and pushed on through pain that kept him awake at night. He'd survived and protected with the power of his own hands and mind. He was a strong kid, deep down he knew that. Hell, he used to gloat about it to anyone who'd dare to underestimate him. But that all seemed irrelevant now if he couldn't tell a single girl how he felt about her.

Emotions had always been the one thing that stood in the way of Edward's true potential. Not the kind that revolved around his grief, or his family, or his anger and guilt- no. That's not what he had trouble with. It was the part of his emotions that made him vulnerable to the touch of his best friend. The part of his emotions that unlocked his sensitivity, the part of his emotions that he'd ridiculed for so long, having strongly believed that he would never be a victim to it. God, when did his world begin to revolve around her? He didn't know, but he knew that his feelings were strong enough for his heart to have a mini seizure every time he was within three feet of her space.

He needed to check in with Alphonse. He knew that. There was just something about (Y/n) that glued him to her bed, beside her, where he wanted to be until the day that he died.

She deserved to be loved. He wasn't sure if it was necessarily him she deserved to be loved by, but she deserved every inkling of admiration he held toward her and more, nothing less.

The blonde had watched as she dozed off, her eyelids fluttering and her eyes practically rolling into the back of her head as she tried to stay awake. The boy had smiled, for it was so like her to fight off sleep when she desperately needed it. (Y/n) had been sleeping for at least thirty minutes, and Edward had even taken the liberty of switching off her light so that she could sleep uninterrupted. He couldn't do anything about the fact that she fell asleep on-top of the drawn comforter in case she got cold, but she looked comfortable enough in her dream induced state for him not to worry about it too much.

The Fullmetal Alchemist almost laughed at how she'd called him beautiful earlier. He'd never thought himself to be beautiful, but he was smart enough to know that he was lucky to be given such a title by the most beautiful person to have roamed this earth during his time. To think that she did not see herself the way he saw her nearly offended him. He just hoped that was her misconnect with Roy talking, not that the aforementioned was anything to be relieved about. He hoped that in time, things between her and her father would be mended so that she could see for herself how cherished she was.

It was getting late. Edward had to check in with Alphonse before the boy grew any more suspicious than he already was. The fifteen year old rolled his eyes, for he knew he would have to tell his brother about him and (Y/n) at some point. He would never hear the end of it, though, and Edward couldn't say he was in the mood for all of that teasing.

The blonde groaned softly as he sat up, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed to stand. He stretched his arms over his head quietly, a satisfying crack releasing from his lower spine. He sighed, rubbing the side of his face and turning his body to look back at (Y/n)'s sleeping form to make sure he hadn't woken her. She stirred slightly, brows twitching, before stilling again.

"Look at you," he murmured to himself, though he was technically speaking to the (h/c) haired teen. "Of course my world revolves around you now."

And that was true, as well. She, Alphonse, and Winry were his family. He cared for many people, but those three were the stability in his life that he knew would remain forever. The constants. He loved them, and his heart belonged to her.

The boy reached over (Y/n)'s legs to grab the jacket that lay at the foot of the bed. He opened it up from its balled up state and carefully placed it over (Y/n)'s body, up to her chin. He gently adjusted the blazer so that it covered her completely, smoothing over her shoulder softly.

The boy crouched down at the side of the bed once he was done, resting his elbow on the furniture and holding his chin up with his thumb, his other fingers shielding his mouth as he watched her. Creep.

Finally forcing himself to part from her, he leaned over and cupped the back of her head ever so lightly, tenderly kissing the space between her brows. He pulled back and stayed there for a moment, bright eyes tracing her face to confirm her slumber for the second time.

Her lashes fluttered in her sleep, her breaths coming out through her nose calmly. She looked peaceful, untouched by the troubles of humanity. Edward wished he could help her stay this way, but he knew that wasn't realistic. She was strong, she could handle humanity when she was conscious. But whilst she slept, he swore he would make sure no one interfered with her momentary tranquility, where her mind could take her anywhere but here.

Ed's lips pursed slightly as his thumb smoothed over her temple. "I love you," he whispered breathlessly, eyes darting over her face. "More than you could possibly know."

He leaned away, his hand falling from her head and to his side as he stood. His face burst into flames as he looked at her, unaffected by his words as she slept. He looked down, scrunching his brows.

"Someday I'll tell you so you can actually hear me."

With that, the boy grabbed the empty dish from (Y/n)'s nightstand and turned stiffly on his heel to march off to the exit. He took one last quick glance at her before he creaked the door open and slipped out into the hallway, gently closing the door behind him.

Edward took a deep breath once the door had closed behind him, leaning his back against the surface and knocking his head back as he momentarily gathered his thoughts. The sound of Roy's voice suddenly coming from the kitchen was what snapped the boy out of his mind. He turned his head into the direction of the voice's origin, the state of softness that the bliss he called (Y/n)'s room pulled him in melted away as his brows narrowed and his jaw clenched. Fantastic, now he had to try to restrain himself from giving the man who hardly listened to anyone an earful. Trust, Edward had a few choice words he would have loved to share with the man, but for everyone's sake, (Y/n)'s specifically, he knew he had to keep it to himself. The last thing the girl needed was to worry about the lasting effects of Edward's mouth, which had a tendency to be rather radically brash.

With a low groan, Ed parted from the end of the hallway and headed toward the rest of the temporary residents within Havoc's home. The blonde's expression was darkening with each step he took closer to the sound of chatter that the Colonel forced himself to be included in, or more so decisive of. He told himself to be cool, to not make a scene, to think about what (Y/n) would have advised him to do if she were awake (no matter how good it would have felt to feel the Flame Alchemist's face collide with his metal knuckles).

Of course- that was only another reason for him to keep it together. (Y/n) was asleep, gaining some much needed rest after the long ass days she'd been forced to trudge through. The last thing Ed wanted to do was to disturb her, if the Colonel's booming voice didn't do so already.

Edward rounded the corner and entered the kitchen/dining space. Al, Havoc, and Riza's attention instantly turned to the boy prepared to greet him, yet "surprisingly" enough, Roy continued to speak- too caught up in his own repetitive words to take notice of the boy's entrance. Everyone else knew it best to wait until Roy was finished talking before they started a new conversation. God forbid they turn away from him for a second, or else he  might have been inclined to go off on another murdering spree as punishment.

So instead, Havoc and Riza acknowledged the boy with their eyes and turned back to Roy, who was leaning against the cream-colored fridge across from the round table that Al and Havoc sat at, while Riza stood off in the corner on Roy's right.

Plan, plan, plan. Promised Day this, Promised Day that. That's all Edward could hear as the onyx haired man continued to spew information about how he wished to proceed in preparing for what was to come. Roy expected the rest of the Mustang Unit to arrive within the next two days, and he was riding on that to happen. Fortunately, Edward didn't doubt that it would happen, for the Mustang Unit consisted of Mustang's most trusted men. No matter how fucked they would be if they were to abandon their posts to reconnect in the middle of nowhere, they would do so in a heartbeat because Roy Mustang was where their loyalties truly lay.

The other thing that Roy had appeared to be scheming was a coup d'etat- a proper one- an organized one. With the anticipated help of the separated Mustang Unit as well as Olivier Armstrong, who Roy was also betting on seeing sometime soon, a coup would be more possible to execute. Edward had to admit that his plan was solid, but to overthrow the government in his state truly did not seem like it would be beneficial to his mental health or his relationship with Father. Not that the relationship had any hope of being tended to to begin with.

Still, it all seemed so... messy. To perform a coup whilst the Fuhrer roamed the very streets of Central City was risky. It would have been a miracle if they were to even go through with it without Bradley somehow discovering their intentions and interfering. Besides, the last time Roy did something against Father's wishes, Winry and (Y/n) were forced to suffer the consequences. The coup would inevitably only make things worse by ripping things apart, and it was unlikely that Central Command would be able to recover if something were to go horribly wrong.

But Roy was smart. He knew that Father had declared war, damning all previous rules that he'd established to hell. It no longer mattered now that there was a clear intent to wreck each other's lives, no matter how badly the father of the Homunculi needed Roy and (Y/n) as human sacrifices. Roy's actions no longer had a significant impact on (Y/n), whether he decided to overthrow the government or hunt down Father himself, because Father was no longer playing nice. There were no longer any limits, for the time to test and break down the people he needed for Promised Day had come, and it was not going to be pretty. Roy was using this as an excuse to do what he pleased.

A coup d'etat was going to be ugly. Edward knew that if Roy were to succeed in overthrowing the government and taking down the rest of the Homunculi, he still wouldn't be the same. In fact, he'd be worse. Taking on a stolen position after he'd submerged completely into the sea of red he struggled to keep his head above was not a good idea. Edward didn't care how long Roy had been training to become Fuhrer, or how badly he'd longed for the title since the moment he joined the militia. Roy wouldn't last a day in that office without breaking, or making a horrible decision for the entirety of the country that he would not be able to undo. He wasn't deserving of what he expected to have post coup, and he wouldn't be until he got his shit together.

Edward rolled his eyes, moving behind Al's seat to place (Y/n)'s dish in the sink. He ran water in the bowl as Roy came to the end of his rant, or lecture, or whatever the hell. When Ed finally heard the man's speech cease, he turned off the faucet and turned back around to face everyone. He leaned against the sink, crossing his arms as he looked around, glaring blankly when he finally looked up to Roy.

"There you are, kid. We were wonderin' how long you were gonna take," Havoc commented, filling the sudden and weighty silence.

Edward inhaled, snapping his eyes over to Jean and scratching the back of his ear. "Sorry, I got distracted. I didn't know I was on the clock," he exhaled somewhat sarcastically. Havoc chuckled lightly, leaning back into his wheelchair and shaking his head.

"Where's (Y/n)?" Riza asked quietly, crossing her arms as well.

"Yeah, is she alright? Is she not coming out?" Alphonse added.

Edward did not miss the way Roy's brow twitched, or the way he casted his gaze to his watch as if some other conflict took precedence over a simple conversation about his daughter. Ed was smart enough to know what that was, though. He was uncomfortable even thinking about how he'd treated his only child.

"She's fine. She's sleeping right now so I wouldn't expect to see her until an hour from now. If we're lucky, we won't see her 'til morning. I got her to eat before she fell asleep though."

"It's only nine thirty," Roy commented as he looked up from his watch. Edward's eyes slimmed subtly as he casted his gaze toward the Colonel, face hardened as if he were made of stone. Roy didn't appreciate the look.

"She's exhausted. Mentally. It's not a crime for her to go to sleep early after staying up until dawn most days this week," he said harshly, though he kept his voice at a reasonable volume level. He promised himself we wouldn't stir up a fight or argument, but that didn't mean that he wasn't going to be honest. He always was, so why wouldn't he have been now? "So try to keep your voice down. She needs the rest."

Roy was silent for a moment, but it was clear that he was not pleased with the fifteen year old telling him what to do, especially if he was correcting him for his daughter's sake. What made him angrier was that he knew Edward was right. "Who in this room isn't exhausted," was the sentence that came out of his mouth. The blonde would have kneed him in the gut then and there. That pride, that guilt that had no way of showing itself other than by being shielded by indifference- it was hard to listen to. "She has tonight. The rest of the time she spends here needs to be spent getting prepared. She's a sacrifice after all. I don't need my kid ending up killed."

"She'll end up killed if she doesn't rest her mind and body," Edward shot back. "You know that. So why don't we just move on."

Edward wasn't sure if it was the Colonel's discomfort with the topic that led him to let it go as he had suggested, but nevertheless, he was grateful he hadn't started an unnecessary argument. 

"Just make sure she's up at a reasonable time tomorrow morning," was the last thing Roy had to say on the topic, leaving a whirlwind of possible responses to blow through Edward's head as he stared disapprovingly.

Why don't you check on her yourself? You think she doesn't have the right to hide away from you in her room after the way you acted? You'd understand if you bothered to act like you care for one second, to act the way you would have before.

The hardest thing for Edward to do was to keep his lips sealed, but he somehow managed to continue to do so.

Alphonse turned his head slightly to peer at his brother, already knowing what was going on through his head before he'd even looked at him.

"We were just talking about the Colonel's plan of action for the Promised Day," Al clarified, though he was positive Edward had caught all of that while he entered the space.

"So I heard," he said as he looked at his brother, his expression softening only a bit as he focused on speaking to his fourteen year old sibling. "Fight fire with fire, huh? Father stages an apocalypse so we stage a revolution."

"Eh, it'll be a lot simpler than it sounds," Havoc chimed in, tilting his head back in his seat as if he were tired of the conversation.

Liar.

"It won't," Riza argued firmly. "The boys know that. No need to throw them off with claims they already know aren't true." The blonde set her brown eyes on the Elrics. "It will be dangerous. We're planning for it to be as effective as possible, but we're doing so while being completely oblivious to what the Promised Day entails.

"We know that your father and Roy are sacrifices as well as yourselves, but we don't exactly understand what for. Father wishes to harvest the power of God, sure, but what does that mean for the course of the entire day? How would this play out if you were to refuse posing as sacrifices? Will you be able to oppose it? What happens to you if you're forced?"

Havoc sighed heavily and let his eyes flutter closed, his head still leaning back. "It's true. As much as we'd like to think that we have a clue what Father's plans here are, we're completely in the dark. We don't know how this is really gonna affect each of you individually, and on top of that, all of Amestris- the whole world, even."

"I guess you're right about that, though I hate to admit it," Edward mumbled, his golden eyes darting to the ground as he began to think. He lifted one hand to his mouth out of habit, for it was a sign of his concentration as his intelligent mind spiraled and his eyes unfocused with reflection. "Al and I have met Father together before, and I've crossed paths with him again since then with (Y/n)-"

"Where?"

Ed's eyes snapped over to the onyx eyed man who'd interrupted him sharply. "Underneath Central Command. Yesterday."

"Why were you both there?" He sounded angry. The undertones of a concerned parent were certainly there in his voice, but it was overpowered by some rattling, intimidating shriek of authority.

"We can get to that later. It's kind of a long story," Edward bit his tongue. You would know if you had been there for her. He kept speaking. "Besides, it- ties into what I'm about to say, anyway."

Roy waited for him to proceed, impatiently.

"(Y/n) just witnessed Father's Truth yesterday. To remind you, Truth is what took Al's body from him and my limbs from me. It's what we saw when we performed Human Transmutation, and (Y/n) decided that she'd have an advantage if she were to see the same things we saw."

The Flame Alchemist snapped his head over to Riza, expecting some sort of shocked expression to adorn her face in reaction to this new information, but he was met with a blank stare- one that displayed her previous knowledge of this fact.

"You knew about this?" he hissed, looking almost betrayed.

"I found out earlier today. Edward told me. Remember, I haven't been in contact with them either," the blonde woman replied stiffly, and Roy narrowed his eyes at the unspoken message behind her blunt words.

I've been too busy cleaning up your mess all this time. How could I have known what the kids were doing? None of us even knew if they were alive.

It made his skin burn.

"Truth grants you knowledge that's intentionally out of the human species' reach. It's what allowed me to perform alchemy without a transmutation circle, but it's also what traumatized me and my brother. It's... overwhelming, it's not right or natural but somehow it all makes sense once you catch a glimpse of it. I- it's hard to explain if you haven't seen it.

"But it's what Father has always had- the knowledge of Truth. Everyone's Truth is different, yet it reveals the same Alchemic abstractions. Some see bits and pieces, others see the whole Truth, like Al, but look at what that cost him. (Y/n) saw what she needed to see in order to somewhat understand Father's intentions and his power. She's already-" Edward stopped himself once he realized that Roy didn't even know about her connection to the era in which Father and Hohenheim lived. "-jeez, she's already connected to it all. She's the only one out of all of us who probably best understands what the Promised Day means."

"Stop," Roy held up a hand, fiery eyes meeting Ed's. "What do you mean she's already connected to it all? What the hell has been going on?"

A part of Edward didn't want to tell. A part of him wanted to force him to go to his daughter for answers, or to figure it out himself as tensions rose. If he didn't make the effort to know, then did he truly deserve for the answers to be handed to him?

Edward inhaled and exhaled deeply. No matter his behavior, Roy was still the man who raised his best friend, and aside from that, he was the Colonel of Central Command. If anything, he needed to know what was going on with (Y/n) more than anyone else in that room did.

"This isn't really something that's meant to be digested in one sitting, so try your best to keep up, alright? You'll have a lot of questions that I won't be able to answer. Bear with me," Edward said slowly, brows arched. "(Y/n)'s empathic ability comes from a combination of her personality and a metaphysical connection between her spirit and the spirit of a four hundred year old Homunculus- one like Father."

Havoc's head shot up as well as his eyes. "What?"

"The hell is this?" Roy snarled.

"I'm serious. Listen. If you want to know, then I suggest you don't interrupt me until I'm finished," Edward frowned. When he was met with silence, he went on. "You adopted (Y/n) after her biological parents were killed, therefore we have no way of knowing who her parents were or whether they play into Father's story at all."

"Then why mention them?"

"Let me talk," Ed's voice raised a tad, words spoken through gritted teeth. "This power of a Homunculus that resides within (Y/n) is something that's passed from generation to generation, meaning one of her parents had to have possessed it as well. We're not sure if they were alchemists either, but if they weren't, that power probably affected them in a different way. But since (Y/n) is an alchemist, somehow that power combined with her alchemic ability and resulted in things like her sword completely altering its ability and appearance. As for her keen sense of danger, that's probably one of the non-alchemic effects that the Homunculus has had on her body."

"What... Homunculus exactly do you keep referring to?" Havoc asked, cringing slightly once he noticed his mistake of cutting in when Edward's eyes glowed red with frustration. "You can't kill a man for wanting a little clarification! I'm tryin' to keep up with this Homunculus shit, cut me some slack."

The boy rolled his eyes, allowing himself to relax slightly since it was only fair that Havoc asked. "Apparently, Father was one of two original Homunculi. The other was the exact opposite of him. Empathetic, wise, patient."

"Sounds familiar," Al almost laughed.

"My fa-" he caught himself. "Hohenheim told me how it warned him about Father, but he didn't listen. Father took advantage of Hohenheim's desire for freedom and used him to create a Philosopher's Stone from the people of Xerxes in order to become what he is now. The other Homunculus presumably died, but apparently the makeup of its entity moved on through worthy people as an... hell what would you call it... an aura? Sense? I'm not all that good with understanding the 'spiritual' aspect of all this.

"Anyway, (Y/n) happens to be the most recent successor of the power of Father's rival. That on top of her going through the Portal of Truth without having suffered any loss or physical trade between knowledge and her body only makes it more obvious that she's the one with the expertise, here."

"And you think she didn't have to lose anything because..." Riza began.

"Because a part of her is one of the first Homunculi to exist. Making her soul, technically, not completely mortal, and somewhat having already been exposed to Truth."

"You're saying she's immortal?" Roy frowned.

"No- I'm saying that since the power she possesses now has lived on for decades and become a part of her spirit, her mind and soul aren't exactly the same as an ordinary human's. Hence, why Father is so obsessed with her."

The room was once again filled with silence. It was a difficult concept to grasp. Truly, it did not seem logical or even possible, but hearing the explanation coming from Edward of all people, a boy who prioritized and lived by laws of science, solidified its credibility.

Roy breathed out through his nostrils and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "Is that all that you've learned while you've been away?" he questioned, trying desperately not to satisfy his urge to flip the kitchen table over in stress and bewilderment.

Edward had to think about his response for a moment, looking over to Alphonse to see what he was thinking. Of course, they were thinking the same thing. There wasn't time to walk Roy through everything that had occurred. Or, it was more so that if they were to, Roy would be unable to truly handle it all.

Pride, Scar, Ed and (Y/n)'s relationship, (Y/n)'s unresolved, concealed manic rage and psychological distress, Gluttony's death, the death of Briggs soldiers up north, (Y/n) and Ed's warrants for arrest, Wrath- it was all too much. Truly, it would not have benefited anyone in the room to be bombarded with it all.

So Edward resorted to briefly mentioning one of the aforementioned things. "Gluttony's dead," he said shortly. Roy lifted his fingers from his nose and stared at the boy almost questioningly. "Father killed him yesterday, while we were... there."

"...What for?"

Keep it simple. Don't reveal the true reason just yet, he reminded himself. "Disobedience. It wasn't very clear."

Roy cleared his throat, his eyes flickering with an unreadable emotion as his hand fell to his side. "I see," he nodded. "That leaves five more to go, then."

"Well- discounting Greed," Alphonse added softly.

The dark haired alchemist gave him a sharp glance. "Five."

The boys didn't want to think about what the certainty in his voice meant as he alluded to Greed's inclusion with the rest of the Homunculi. Edward would admit that had his moments with the prick, considering that Greed shared a mind and body with a prince who relentlessly hitted on the girl he swore to share his life with, but Greed was... good. He was an asshole, and he spoke out of term on occasion, but he wasn't like the rest of Father's children. He proved that monsters were only products of their monstrous environment, and that he truly wanted to help the humans succeed. He didn't deserve to be lumped in with the rest of them- with Maes' killer and Amestris' oppressor.

He hoped Roy's questionable response wouldn't raise problems in the future. That would be one surefire way to push (Y/n) even farther away from him, considering how fond she'd grown of the Avaricious beast and the prince whose body he inhabited.

A rather out of place knock at the front door startled everyone out of their conversation. Suspicious eyes glanced at each other from around the room, the owners of each pair well aware of the fact that no one should have known of this secluded location. And it was far too early for any of the former Mustang Unit members to have returned to Central City.

Havoc grabbed his rifle from beside his feet, Riza's hand flew to the pistol on the counter, and Roy pulled his gloves out of his pockets and over his hands. The Elrics watched in slight awe of how swiftly they'd armed themselves within seconds, though the alert was understandable considering the situation.

Who could it have been? And at this hour?

"Brother...?" Al began as he stood from his seat, moving to stand beside Edward.

"I don't know, Alphonse, just be ready for anything," the boy responded, and suddenly he was very aware of (Y/n) sleeping alone at the far end of the house. He was about to book it to her room to warn her when the metal armor's hand clasped his shoulder.

"But Edward, you don't think it's Scar, do you?"

Edward stopped and stared at him for a moment as the gears in his head began to turn, then it clicked.

Shit.

It couldn't have been anyone else, unless they'd been followed earlier. And Scar had disappeared so abruptly, it was only logical that he'd come back at some point. But this was Scar. The Ishvalan Serial Killer who had wreaked havoc all over the country, and been a personal pain in the Colonel's ass. If they didn't rush to the door before the adults, then the house would likely be set on fire as a result of Roy's reaction.

The boys cut in front of Roy at the door, who was followed by Riza and Havoc, both armed and prepared to shoot. Alphonse pressed his large body against the frame as Edward held out his hands, glancing frantically between his brother and the three before them.

"What do you think you're doing?" Roy seethed, clenching his jaw down. "Move."

"Boys," Riza whispered urgently. "That could be anyone behind that door. You need to move now or help us in case someone followed you here, earlier."

"Maybe we should take a breath for a second," Alphonse suggested, turning to peek out of the small window in the door and freezing up when he saw a head of silvery hair in its frame. "And move back into the kitchen. Right brother?"

Edward pursed his lips. "Look. We'll see who it is and let you know if you need to worry, alright?"

"In what world do you think this is a joke?" the Colonel fumed, his eyes somehow darkening. "Unless you told someone else about this location, no one should know it exists aside from those of us in this house now and those who received my message. From separate parts of the country," he gritted out. "Move or I'll move you myself."

"Please!" Alphonse begged. "Just let us handle it first before we show you who it is-"

"Show me?" Roy echoed, tilting his head forward and to the side. "Show me? Who the hell did you give this address to?"

"We didn't give any stranger an address!" Edward argued, growing irritated, for he did not know how to go about handling the situation. Why did that idiot have to go and knock like he was an invited guest, anyway? "It's hard to explain."

"What's so hard to explain about it! Either you gave someone the address or you didn't," Roy ground out, doing his best to keep his voice low. Alphonse made sure that he blocked the window with his head once again, making it impossible for the three before him to guess who it was. "You know them. Whoever's out there, you know them- you knew they were coming.

"Colonel, calm down," Edward began.

"Don't tell me to calm down! You have no right to give me orders!"

"I'm not ordering you like you do everyone else! I'm just trying to keep you from blowing the place up!"

"So whoever's here will make me angry, is that it?" he stood over the boy, peering down at him menacingly. "Who. Is. It."

"We'll show you after you cool down."

"Alphonse, move," Roy hissed, keeping his eyes on Edward. "That was an order. Do it now or I won't hesitate to use force."

"This is exactly why we can't show you who it is right now! Listen to how you talk to people! You're not even in any position to bark orders! You're wanted for arrest, you're hardly even a Colonel now."

Roy gritted his teeth, grabbing a fist full of Edward's shirt and yanking him toward his face. The boy grunted as his body was forced within inches of the Colonel's. "What did you just say to me, runt?"

"Let me go and treat people like a decent human being and maybe I'll take it back, but you're only proving my point further!" Edward barked.

Keep your mouth shut. Shut it. Shut up, Edward, shut up.

The Colonel took in a noisy breath, one that sucked in past his teeth and made a growl rumble through his chest. He thrusted the Fullmetal Alchemist up against the wall beside Alphonse, the walls rattling as Ed's body collided with it. He cringed, grasping Roy's hand as his face neared his.

Hot. His hands were hot.

"Edward!" Alphonse exclaimed.

"Roy, enough. Let him go," Havoc spoke up from behind Riza.

"Who is at the door, Fullmetal?" Roy asked slowly, each word cutting out of his mouth like an ax cutting through wood. Edward could see it up close now, the fire in his eyes. The mask of a man he didn't recognize as he used his age and strength to threaten the boy into submission. "If I have to ask again, your brother will have to pay for your stubbornness."

"Don't you dare threaten my brother," Edward mustered, voice trembling with rage. "I'll make sure we both suffer a thousand times over before you even suggest laying a finger on him. Bastard," he spat.

"Roy!" Riza shouted, and Ed could detect the slightest jump in the man's shoulders at the sound of Hawkeye calling his name with such urgency. "Put him down, now."

"You too, Riza," he muttered lowly. "Is this how it's going to be from now on? Everyone suddenly turns against me once the kid enters the picture. Huh? As if you haven't thought of betraying me for weeks now. Don't think I don't see the way you look at me when I walk past you in the kitchen or the hallway. You're just waiting for the chance to stray further away from me," he accused the brown eyed woman.

There was a sudden pain in his voice, one that was hardly detectable over the sheer disgust that attempted to overpower it. A hint of vulnerability was threatening to show itself once again amidst the rage and hate. He spoke almost as if he were defeated, yet he sounded as though he held power over everyone in the room. It was a strange contrast, one that he hardly even realized he was allowing others to identify.

"The boy clearly let somebody know where this place was- someone who I'm likely not to trust, and you're still defending him."

"Look at who's pressing who up against a wall, Colonel," Riza lowered her gun, brows curled as she watched Roy sink further into himself. "I'm defending him because you used force and threatened his brother. I stand with you through more than I'm proud to admit, but I won't stand by and watch you treat the children like this. Put him down and let's discuss this like adults."

Roy's nose flared, similarly to the way an angry bull would as it prepared to charge at a taunting matador. Edward was surprised he didn't see steam blow out of his nostrils as he leaned his head away slowly, then abruptly dropped the boy's shirt. Edward's weight, now no longer being held up by Roy's grip, slumped him against the wall harshly. The boy huffed, straightening his shirt and jacket lividly, his face flaring with both embarrassment and fury.

Alphonse was quick to his side, checking to make sure his big brother was safe. In his haste, he left the front door unattended, allowing Roy to shove past him and practically rip the door off its hinges as he unlocked it and threw it open.

It happened so quickly that Al could hardly get out his panicked "Wait!" before Roy stomped out onto the porch. Riza and Hawkeye reacted to the vision before them just as the boys had suspected. Their mouths dropped open as they stood before the doorway, utter confusion and dismay plastered across their faces. But more importantly, their guards instantly flew back up and their weapons were pointed toward the intruder without hesitance.

"Hold on, don't shoot!" Edward warned, pushing himself away from the wall to stand in the doorway, holding one hand out to Riza and Jean whilst he turned his head to look at the scene before him.

Sitting at Roy's feet were two duffel bags, the ones that Tim Marcoh had taken with as he ran from Wrath further north in the city. Roy was frighteningly still, not making any move to step around the bags or walk up to the Ishvalan that stood at the bottom of the porch stairs.

Scar's face was as indifferent as it had been when he prepared to kill the daughter of the man who stood before him. Edward wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not, for there was no rage evident on the brown skinned man's face, but he didn't look exactly pleasant either. His head was tilted down slightly, his brow muscles creasing the scar on his forehead. His lips formed a deep frown, and his bright eyes were shaded by the hoods of his brows.

Roy's face was a horror on its own, and if those behind him would have been able to see it, they would have thought the same. His chin was tilted upward and his pupils were small. His nose was curled, flaring as he breathed deeply, and his mouth formed a distasteful grimace.

The Flame Alchemist's palms warmed every second he spent staring at the criminal, but the moment his eyes fell to something wrapped around his pant leg, which was painted in dried blood around his upper left leg, he snapped. It was a thin fabric stretched out and ripped many times over in order to stop the bleeding from whatever wound had been inflicted on him, and Roy recalled watching (Y/n) shrug off her blazer to reveal one sleeve of her turtleneck missing- or torn off.

When it all clicked, he lifted his hand to aim at Scar in an instant, his thumb and middle finger connecting as he prepared to snap and light the field ablaze, but he was restrained by Al's large hand suddenly grasping his forearm from behind in an attempt to lower it.

They struggled for a moment as the fourteen year old tried to reason with him, and Roy wriggled his arm around in order to pry it free. Edward swiftly moved past the two of them to approach Scar, fuming.

"You really had to come and make a scene?!" he shouted as commotion aroused behind them. Riza had run onto the porch beside Roy and Alphonse, her gun raised vertically by her head as she looked around, unsure of what to do. "This-" Ed pointed harshly to the struggle behind him as he stood at the top of the stairs. "-is why I didn't want you coming here! Why did you even leave in the first place, and why'd you come back?"

Scar nodded mutely to the bags at the door. "I went looking for Marcoh and found your things."

"Why the hell were you looking for Marcoh?"

"I needed to make sure I could locate him, but unfortunately, I believe Wrath got a hold of him."

Ed faltered a moment. "What are you talking about?"

"I found your bags abandoned in the middle of an empty street. Marcoh was nowhere to be found."

"But Wrath was running after Winry. Why do you think he was the one responsible for him missing?"

"Call it intuition," he said stiffly. "I have strong reason to believe that your friend is safe."

"You can't just go around assuming stuff like that. You could be dead wrong," Edward shook his head, though he couldn't deny the fact that his heart leaped with relief at the idea of Winry making it out of harm's way.

"Even so, her being safe means that the Homunculi have their hands on Marcoh. Wrath would not return to Central empty handed."

"And why does it matter whether Marcoh is with them or not?"

"They could use his love for his people against him and force him to do something he swore not to for the sake of other lives." Edward recalled that Marcoh had been willing to sacrifice hundreds of lives in order to heal a few during The Ishvalan War of Extermination. "Tim Marcoh should, under no circumstances, be anywhere near the Homunculi. The things they could convince him to do within a day... you wouldn't want to see it, Elric."

The sudden dark tone Scar's voice took did very little to soothe Edward's nerves, but he didn't have time to dwell on it as Roy grew louder and more irate behind him. Ed whipped his head around to see Alphonse fully trying to restrain his arms from in front of him, blocking the man's clear view of the Ishvalan. Riza still stood to the side, wondering whether she should be aiming her gun at the white haired man Edward was speaking to or approaching them to have a conversation about what was happening.

"Hawkeye!" Roy grunted out, swatting against the force of Al's metal arms. "You have a clear view, don't you? Shoot him, now!" he shouted. Riza snapped her eyes over to him, completely conflicted. She watched as Alphonse resorted to grabbing the Colonel's wrists. The boy turned to face her as Roy pushed and shoved against him, for Al was much stronger than he had anticipated.

"Lieutenant, you have to give us a second to explain! Please don't shoot!" he pleaded.

"Why does a wanted criminal know the location of this home, Alphonse?" she cried out. She wanted to listen to the boy, honestly, but her instincts were kicking in and telling her to aim for the space between Scar's brows and pull the trigger.

Riza tightened her lips, readjusting her arms to point the gun into Scar's direction. Edward stepped to the side out of instinct, watching the way Riza's eyes guiltily flickered between him and Scar. Her soft finger teased the trigger, her shoulders raising as she got a good angle at the Ishvalan's face. Scar himself did not move, or react to anything that was happening in the interior of the home provided.

"We didn't plan for him to come with us!" Alphonse began to explain. "He's- well, he's claimed to be on our side, now! Tell them, Edward! You and (Y/n) ran into him first in North City!"

"Damn you, Fullmetal, you let this man hover around (Yn)!" Roy bellowed, his voice gravelly and low, scarily low. It boomed across the trees and sky, and echoed throughout the hall and into the only occupied bedroom. "I'll kill him."

"You're not gonna kill anybody!" Edward shouted. "This looks bad, I know! If you listen for a goddamn second-"

"Stop telling me to listen!" Roy interrupted once he finally managed to break free from Al and push him to the side. The man saw Al prepare to move toward him again out of the corner of his eye, and he made sure he didn't take another step closer by sending him an icy glare. Al froze, for he knew that look meant that he would go to drastic measures to keep him away. "In what way can you begin to explain why this man is standing in front of me right now! He's killed hundreds of people, our people-"

"And you've killed thousands of theirs!" Edward shouted back, surprised at himself for how defensive he suddenly became.

"Don't pull that crap on me," Roy scoffed. "I did what I was ordered to do. As if I would willingly march into his territory and happily go on a murdering his race. He chose to kill, he chose to slaughter people- good people. He tried to kill you, and he tried to kill (Y/n). How dare you bring him here or even attempt to defend this piece of garbage so boldly in front of me?"

Scar remained silent. Watching. Waiting. Listening.

"I didn't buy it at first, either!" Edward proceeded, for if he didn't take it upon himself he never would have gotten the chance to keep speaking. "Hell, I still don't like the fact that he's here or that I have to speak for his behavior, but he- he and (Y/n) came to an understanding!"

"Are these the decisions she chooses to make when I'm not around to watch her?"

"What else is she supposed to do?" Edward yelled. "She had no control, no father, no friends or support other than me for days! Do you think she instantly forgave him and welcomed him with open arms? Give your damn kid some credit! Especially since she made these decisions without you around!"

Shut up, Edward. Shut up.

"Watch your mouth!"

Watch your mouth, Edward. Keep your thoughts to yourself, Edward. For (Y/n)'s sake, Edward.

The golden eyed boy growled, running his hands over his face. "Don't you know how bad it is that he was the one to have to tell her about the shit you did in Ishval ten years ago?"

Too much. Too much. Reel it in.

"She needs people from all backgrounds- we need people from all backgrounds. We're not getting through this solely off of the back of your suicidal plan! Scar made himself present so here he is! He helped us fight earlier, he protected my brother, he even found his brother's research that could help us more than we could help ourselves!

"(Y/n) isn't a damn idiot. She knows who she can and can't trust! Don't talk about her like she's a child just because you were off ruining her life instead of protecting it!"

Now you've done it.

Roy released an angered shout as he outstretched his left arm, throwing it out with the snap of his fingers. A bright burst of white hot flames flourishing from his fingers past Alphonse, through the porch, and onto the nearby trees. The leaves lit into gentle flicks of orange and red, until the fire grew and spread across the green, licking up into the starless night sky. Scar was quick to kneel down, planting his palms into the soil and transmuting the hardened dirt and stone surrounding the blazing trees into a large dome, capturing the flaming plants within the massive cage in order to prevent the fire from spreading across the land.

Roy heaved in and out, head lowered and dark locks shading his face. He didn't bother to look up once the light of the fire was stowed away and replaced by blue strikes of alchemic energy due to Scar's quick thinking.

Edward scoffed, curling his lips in shame and shaking his head slightly as he stared at the large dome that encompassed the chunk of trees residing by the home. "You're out of your damn mind," he mumbled. "I tried keeping my mouth shut, I really did. But I can't watch this happen before my eyes without saying anything."

He looked over at Roy, who had yet to lift his head. "Get your shit together. If not for yourself, for (Y/n). She doesn't need to see you like this."

A shudder wracked through Roy's body as he lowered his hand, shoulders rising and falling harshly.

"I'm sorry Scar is here, I really am. I was against it, but he wanted to come for whatever reason. It's against all of our better judgment, but (Y/n) wanted him to do what he wanted," Edward spoke, his voice softening sternly. "If you're that pissed that he's here, by all means, go speak to your kid about it. She makes decisions everyone else is afraid to make."

Scar silently rose to his feet once the commotion died down. He noticed that Riza's grip had slackened on her gun, for she was distracted by Roy's sudden and hostile outburst. Nevertheless, she could easily secure her hands once more and shoot.

"I understand my arrival is unorthodox," Scar finally spoke, catching Riza's attention as well as Havoc's, who had rolled out onto the porch beside her after he heard Roy yell. "Looking back, I would have never expected myself to willingly seek you out without attempting to end your life. That is the truth, Flame Alchemist."

Roy's heavy breathing had suddenly stopped, but his head was still pointed to the ground.

"However, what has weighed heavily on my decision to stray from the path that I've chosen to go down was my first encounter with a Homunculus. You may know him as Envy."

Riza completely lowered her gun at this point, while Roy's lips trembled beneath the shadow of his hair.

"He inflicted great damage unto me. More damage than I have ever had to endure. I realized then that you Amestrians, no matter how many ways you have wronged me and I have wronged you, are not my true enemies," he said. "I did not come here for something as futile as forgiveness or commendation. I know where I stand with you. I still see you as a murderer and you see me as the same. I'm well aware of my past actions, and as I told your daughter, I do not apologize for the things that I have consciously done in my desire for vengeance. I know who I am, what I am to you. I know what you are to me. Neither of us began as murderers, but that is the path we both took. And you can choose to stray from it.

"I've come to offer assistance. The Empath Alchemist has been helpful toward me, and I do not deny that I come in respect to her as well. She is still the daughter of the man who burned thousands of my people alive, but I am in her debt. She helps me, and I help all of you. There is nothing more to it than a mutual trade of assistance."

"Leave her name out of your mouth," Roy heaved, thickly. Abruptly. "Or I'll scorch you alive."

Scar remained unfazed. "I do not wish to impose. I only wished to make this clear. I am not your enemy any longer. We are both criminals, now, and I feel that it's best if we work together. These words are greatly influenced by your daughter, as well."

The Flame Alchemist gradually lifted his head, eyes glowing with inhuman ire. "I won't hesitate. That is your final warning."

"I am confident you won't," Scar nodded stiffly, his eyes flickering with internal hatred. "I shall take my leave. I will be back each day in the afternoon to provide assistance for whatever you have planned. We don't have much time. The more strength and voices, the better."

Scar turned to look between Alphonse, who had been stunned to stillness by the flame that flew past his body, and Edward. He held their gazes momentarily before turning away and walking off into the darkness, disappearing into the woods as if he was never there.

As if on cue, (Y/n) stepped timidly into the doorway, her arm lightly placed on the door frame while her other hand lifted to rub her eye. Everyone's eyes went to her once they noticed she was there, yet Roy's back was still turned to the front door.

The girl looked a bit distressed, her face fresh with sleep and her lips pulled into a tight frown as she blinked and looked around in concern. She must have been woken up by all the commotion from outside, which was not surprising considering how loudly everyone had been yelling. So much for trying to let her sleep.

She wasn't exactly sure what to think when she first took a glance at everyone around her. Riza was holding a gun, looking a bit frazzled, while Jean did the same. Alphonse had his hands slightly raised, orbs switching between (Y/n) and Roy as if he were anticipating him to turn around. Edward was the furthest away, with his face twisted into a scowl that had begun to fade at the sight of her. And Roy stood still, entire body tense as his left hand trembled from the use of alchemy.

(Y/n)'s frown deepened as the scent of smoke she'd detected in the hallway grew stronger as she stood behind her father, yet there was no sign of fire in sight. There was, however, a large dirt dome that took up a good chunk of the woods on the left side of the house.

Her mouth moved to form the question "What's wrong?", but Edward beat her to speaking as he stomped up the stairs to head toward her. Her eyes were still clouded over and he could tell she was a bit discombobulated as he moved to guide her back into the house with his hand on her lower back.

"Come back inside," his words came out strained. (Y/n) instantly knew that something serious must have happened by how everyone stood in awe, and by the angered crease in the boy's brow.

"Wait, what happened?" she asked softly, lowering her hand and training her eyes on the boy's face.

He wanted to explain everything to her as soon as possible, but he knew that there was only a matter of time before Roy snapped again, and Ed didn't want her to be subject to the aftermath of his previously imploded temper.

"I'll tell you in a second, just come on-"

But he was too late. (Y/n) watched as Roy whipped around to face her, face tightened and hair untamed. The remaining sleep immediately drained from her body as he marched up to her, his eyes glowing and his aura flaming. Edward was quick to move his arm in front of her to push her back slightly, for he did not enjoy the way Roy approached her one bit. He never thought he'd have the urge to protect the girl from her own father.

"Did I not raise you to make smart decisions," he started, his voice already booming. (Y/n) winced at the volume now that he was standing before her, staring past Edward and straight into her confused (e/c) eyes.

When she didn't respond out of sheer befuddlement, his dark eyes proceeded to search her face for some kind of answer he was not receiving. "What..."

"I told you every single day not to do stupid shit, (Y/n). Didn't I? Isn't that one of the last things I said to you when you ran off to Central behind my back?"

(Y/n) began shaking her head slowly. "What are you talking about?" she asked quietly, suddenly feeling like a small child again under his large shadow.

"Scar, (Y/n)? Are you joking?"

The Mustang's brows twitched, for she was still unsure of what had transpired for Roy to be acting like this. She looked over to Alphonse who took a step closer in order to keep his friend in the loop.

"Scar just... he just came back. He said he found your stuff so he dropped it off and left. Said he'd be back tomorrow," Al said shyly, and (Y/n)'s face contorted into that of realization and anxious understanding, but not of remorse.

She looked back over at Roy who was clearly expecting some sort of explanation. Maybe this had been a misunderstanding. Maybe Scar had been lying, for (Y/n) would never willingly lend the man who killed hundreds of her people her trust.

(Y/n) inhaled sharply, lifting her brows. "I can explain."

Roy's jaw fell slightly in disbelief, for he had convinced himself that what Scar had told him wasn't true. He told himself that his daughter wouldn't seek help from the Ishvalan who tried to kill her, who almost took her away from him. He told himself it was out of the question, that he just had to check and see if (Y/n) would clear things up so that he could knock the white haired man into next week if he dared to show his face the next day like he had promised.

But here he was, watching as (Y/n) looked at him with curled brows like she was pleading him to hear her out. Roy couldn't begin to put the feeling that overcame his body into words. He felt... hurt. Perplexed. Angry, like he wanted to light the entire sky on fire to compensate for his absence in (Y/n)'s decision to trust the man he had been hunting for quite a long time. She betrayed him. She disobeyed him. She went behind his back and did something that she knew Roy would never approve of. She chose to allow Scar to tag along with her all on her own. On her own...

That was what really bothered him. Not the fact that she had been what he called "wreckless" or that she brought the man to Havoc's childhood home, but the fact that she'd made a responsible decision based on her current predicament by herself. (Y/n) knew that she would have to make tough choices regarding who to trust and who not to trust, and with that ability of hers that allowed her to sense danger, she must have known that Scar didn't pose any threat to her any longer. She likely let him speak, let him explain himself while she informed him of all that he should be cautious of. She probably looked him in the eye and told him that she would work with him as long as he was aware of the fact that she wouldn't forget about what he'd done. She probably asked him to tell her about Ishval, for he was her only source of information regarding that time since Roy Mustang never bothered to tell her about it. Because he was a coward. He could have never let go of that grudge in order to see the bigger picture, to see that Scar's strength is what he needed to succeed. He could have never forgiven him for putting his daughter's life at stake. He could have never heard out his story and decided for himself whether it was best to let him help or not. Roy had been a calculated man before Maes died, but even then, he knew that he would not have been able to push everything aside to understand why Scar would be beneficial to the Amestrians.

That's what bothered him about it all. That (Y/n) had the maturity to accept Scar's help, despite him having almost murdered her. That she was selfless and empathetic enough to place herself into his shoes and understand why he had done what he'd done in the first place. That she was strong enough to hold him accountable whilst simultaneously moving on. That she was a better person, through and through, with or without Roy by her side.

"Do you not remember everything that Scar has done to our country?" he almost laughed, leaving (Y/n) all the more frightened of where this conversation was going to go. "He killed my comrades- your comrades! He could have killed you!"

"I know that," (Y/n) replied hastily, trying to keep his anger at bay with the contrast of her smaller voice. "I know. Of course, I didn't forget-"

"Then how could you lead him here? How could you let him be around you after everything? You've seen me practically rip my hair out of my head because of all the devastation he's caused me and the entire militia, and you just think it's okay to be his best friend now?"

"He can help us!" (Y/n) begged. "He has helped us! I'm not saying he's good or bad, I'm saying he's useful considering the enemy we're facing right now."

"He's a murderer! I was just tracking him down weeks ago!"

"But he's snapped out of it! He's abandoning his hatred, Roy, and believe me it's much better to have him on our side than on the opposing! You've seen what he can do! We need that strength, whether you like it or not."

Roy laughed harshly, shaking his head and turning away from the fifteen year old girl to course his hands through his hair.

"I'm sorry that he came unannounced. I didn't know if he was coming back or not-"

"He was here before?" Roy exclaimed, turning back around and outstretching his arms.

"He came with us and then left when we got here-"

"To tell our enemies where we are!"

"Scar has made it clear that he hates them more than he hates us! The Homunculi were the ones who orchestrated the murder of his people, remember? The issue of going to Ishval was ordered by the Fuhrer, who was working directly under Father's command!"

"I don't give a damn who he hates more. A man who has spent his entire life scheming against Amestrians isn't just going to turn around one day and choose to be on 'our side'."

"There are reasons behind his decisions, it didn't just happen overnight," (Y/n) sighed, dropping her shoulders as Roy turned his head and clenched his jaw. "You know we need him. We're strong on our own, sure, but he brings so much more to the table."

"I killed a Homunculus, (Y/n)! Not him!"

"Exactly!" Silence filled the air as Roy stared at the girl as if she'd shot him. "You killed Lust. You brought us here. Not Scar." Her nose flared and her eyes creased, her index finger pointing at him with each emphasis of her words. "Scar has already been down the path you're stumbling down, and we need his wisdom and experience. We need his levelhead, because you don't have it right now." She paused to let out a short breath of amusement. "I had to hear about everything you did while you were away at Ishval from one of the men who suffered at your hand."

Riza's throat tightened as she glanced at Roy, for she knew that (Y/n) would have found out about it sooner or later if he hadn't told her about it himself.

"I don't even care that you had to kill all those people. I had a general idea about what happened then, anyway, and that never- it would never change how I see you. But the fact that you didn't tell me? That I had to learn about all the deaths of Scar's people that we were responsible for and the damage you specifically inflicted from someone other than you? It hurts. Amongst a hundred other things, it hurts."

(Y/n) shivered when she felt a warm hand slide up her back, for she hadn't even realized that Edward's arm had moved from in front of her. She breathed in deeply, his touch almost magically soothing her distress before she wound herself up even further.

"I made a choice that I knew would help us in the long run. If you're mad that you didn't know about it until now, too bad. I'm not going to feel sorry for you when you gave up the chance to keep in touch with me for something as stupid as killing Lust. You wanna be her for me? Prove it. Because I want you to act like yourself, but you're not and it's scaring me."

(Y/n) turned on her heel and went back inside before tears could well up in her eyes in front of the man who inspired them, Edward (glaring harshly before he left) and Alphonse quickly following. (Y/n) didn't get the chance to see how Roy reacted to the things she said, but she assumed he didn't care.

-

Wrath had severely underestimated the will of a fifteen year old human being who channeled the power of his ancestors as well as an Avaricious Homunculus. The fight that ensued between the two of them had been a draw nonetheless, more so because Wrath no longer wanted to waste his time egging on a boy who just wouldn't give up. It didn't make him any happier that Greed remained within the confines of Ling's mind, completely uninvolved in the power that the Xingese boy displayed. Wrath wielded two swords, Ling wielded one. Wrath had the advantage of height, mass, and power, while Ling had the advantage of emotion and skill.

They'd fought on top of the car, which could barely hold the weight of the both of them as they swung their weapons into each other's faces. Winry had pressed herself against the cushions of her seat as if they would extend around her and suck her into its mass, providing her with security she failed to feel within the rocking vehicle. The brawl had only lasted a short amount of time on top of the vehicle, anyway, for Ling had taken into consideration how Winry would be impacted by witnessing all of this. He also knew that if he didn't manage to lead Wrath away, the Homunculus would remain within Winry's vicinity, and he couldn't have that.

Ling had recklessly thrown his entire body at the Fuhrer, crashing into him when his swords were raised above his head and sending both of their bodies tumbling off of the car and into the now dirt road behind them. Winry let out a gasp of shock, while Yoki sucked his teeth and continued driving, only a bit more steadily as the blonde in the backseat propped herself on her knees to twist her body around and look out of the back window.

The prince skidded away from the burly man once they'd tumbled onto the ground a couple times, his palm scraping against the dirt in his crouched position while the other held his weapon into the air with an outstretched arm. The boy winced as a few bits of rock cut into the soft skin of his hand in order to stop himself from sliding back further. He stumbled to his feet, thrusting his sword back in front of him to prepare himself for when Bradley got back to his feet.

Wrath took his time standing up. He did so slowly, gradually, as if he knew that Ling Yao would exercise patience in order to resume their fight. As the tall man stood, the dark patch over his eye loosened before it snapped open, brushing his thick shoulder, and fell to the ground by his boot softly. Ling squinted, blinking away the dust that flew up into his eyes in order to adjust to the sight before him.

The Fuhrer, free of the eyepatch that had concealed a piece of his identity from the unknowing nation as well as his family and superiors, stood tall and glared furiously at the fifteen year old through heterochromatic orbs. His right eye glimmered, the emerald hue of his iris piercing through the dust cloud that their bodies had kicked up into the air. The left, released from its confinement glowed like the light of a spheric Philosopher's Stone. When the dust cleared, Ling could make out the symbol in his eye more clearly- a bright, vermillion Oroborus tattoo taking the place of what would normally be an iris and pupil.

"So that's where you've been hiding it," Ling chuckled to himself, reveling in the moment before a white hot pain shot through his upper right arm. The boy halted, his jaw slackening then clenching as he registered the feeling. The adrenaline that had been coursing through his veins dying down long enough for him to notice the horizontal rip in his sleeve and slash in his flesh that the Fuhrer must have inflicted when their bodies had collided.

One of the boy's eyes screwed shut and a guttural groan got caught in his throat as his grip on his sword trembled, and his focus traveled to the pain that was spreading. It was a moment of panic, where he did not know what to do or how to proceed with the protection of the girl (Y/n) entrusted to him if he continued to fight in this condition.

His disorientation was short lived, for a red spark crackled around his arm that closed the wound within an instant. The pain remained for a few seconds longer, until it was no longer there. Ling released the tension in his face, scrunching his brows before he recalled that he had the advantage of the strength and healing power of a Homunculus within him.

"Watch it, idiot," Greed's voice rang through Ling's head, sparking a grin to spread across the boy's face.

"Shit, Greed," Ling heaved, puffing his chest as a sense of power dwelled within him. "I almost forgot you were in there."

"Don't let me saving your ass encourage you to get sliced up by Wrath. I'm gracious because we're sharing a body. If you go overboard I'm gonna let you pass out so I can take over."

"Was that a hint of concern I detected?" the Xingese prince teased, crouching slightly into position as Wrath's eyes narrowed and his body positioned itself with agility.

"Don't think I won't do it. Focus."

"Alright, alright," Ling sighed in exaggeration. "Sheesh, you're no fun."

"Quit hiding, Greed," Wrath suddenly shouted out, his grimace stretching as he trained his eyes skillfully on Ling's movements. "It's pathetic, even for you."

"I don't think he likes me talking to you buddy," Ling commented, completely ignoring the Fuhrer's words.

"Ya think?"

The quick interaction between the dark haired boy and the being that betrayed his kind must have struck a nerve, for in an instant, Bradley was pouncing again. The excited grin that broke onto Ling's face as the man charged his mass toward him only pissed him off even more, and within seconds, their swords were clashing violently against each other as grunts of exertion left Ling's mouth.

Ling was easily able to maneuver around the Fuhrer's swift motions thanks to his impressive flexibility and foreign fighting technique. He moved like a snake, or a river, flowing and curving around Bradley's weapons with grace, ducking beneath vicious swipes of iron through the air and bending his body into a bridge as both swords came swinging at his neck from either direction. He was slippery, quick, and worst of all, completely calm. There was this air about him that made it seem as though it would be impossible for him to stop fighting, to throw in the towel and allow Wrath to continue on with his hunt. Wrath found that trait in Ling that he despised seeing the most in human beings: pesky persistence.

No matter their disadvantage or proximity to death, there was a good chunk of the human population that stood in the face of defeat. That pushed themselves off of the ground time and time again, blow after blow knocking them down but not keeping them planted to the floor. They kept moving, fighting, struggling, like an ant wiggling its tiny legs after it had been stomped against the concrete. Persistence is what Ling had, and an overwhelming amount of it that couldn't seem to be deterred. How annoying.

That trait of his combined with his combat experience and youthful agility made for a decent opponent, but not in the way that Scar was to Wrath. No, in the sense that this was a good challenge for Bradley before he faced Scar again. Something to keep his stamina up, to keep him moving, to fuel his energy. He would have appreciated it if Ling Yao hadn't been so goddamn bothersome. Not to mention the bonus aggravation that came with knowing that Greed was in the boy's head, assisting him, encouraging him, and he hadn't done anything to improve Ling's ability except heal him each time Wrath's swords cut the boy's skin.

What to do? He asked himself.

This would have gone on for a long time if he weren't to find a way to get around him and head back into Winry's direction, which proved to be rather difficult with this fly constantly buzzing by his ear. The Fuhrer had to quit playing games.

So the next time Ling's sword came swinging down toward the Fuhrer's hardened face, his body elevated into the air due to the his feet springing him into the sky and above the Homunculus' figure, Bradley whipped his two swords into position on either side of Ling's blade, capturing the weapon within the blades and securing them like a pair of tongs. Ling found that he was unable to move his sword within the hold of Bradley's swords, solidified by the man's strength, and his entire body flew upside down and thrusted into the ground with Fuhrer Bradley's harsh and swift twist of his arms and weapons.

Ling groaned as he landed on his head, his legs falling to the dirt moments after his upper body collided with the hard ground. His eyes shot open, vision now unblocked by his bangs, and he was met with the sight of Bradley sheathing his swords from Ling's Scimitar and thrusting down to his face. Ling held his breath, eyes widened as he rolled hastily to the left, barely missing the tips of Bradley's weapons as they came down into the dirt rather than through Ling's skull.

In the boy's haste to dodge Bradley's attack, when he lifted his head from the ground to monitor his closeness, he realized that he'd been forced to abandon his sword a few inches behind Bradley's feet. The said Homunculus noticed this, glancing behind him to follow the prince's gaze, for Ling was still laying on the ground, chest down.

Ling stumbled on his feet, launching himself into the direction of his weapon, past the Fuhrer only to be yanked back down onto the ground by Bradley's grip. Ling hissed, tilting his head to kick the man in his jaw with as much force as he could muster. Bradley stumbled back slightly, releasing his grasp and moving his jaw around in subtle shock by how that had stung more than he expected it to. If he were an ordinary man, his jaw likely would have been fractured or worse.

The fifteen year old crawled toward his weapon once Bradley was distracted, inching closer and closer to the handle of his sword until it was centimeters away from his fingertips. He scooted closer, tickling the leather handle with his touch and gritting his teeth. He'd managed to pull the sword into the top of his palm when a shadow enveloped him, and one of Bradley's swords came flying down and into the boy's hand.

Ling let out a cry of pain, his forehead falling onto the dirt, rubble and dust smearing across his face as he struggled to breath. He could feel himself shaking, and he barely mustered up the courage to peek back up at the blade that had dug itself into and through his hand, past the bone, the skin of his palm, and into the ground beneath him. He shuddered, his jaw falling agape as another strangled noise of shock and pain rumbled through his body. His fingers trembled as blood began to pool beneath his hand and drip down his skin from the hole that had been sliced.

"Get up," Greed urged. Ling grunted, scrunching his eyes shut, unable to properly convey or process the searing pain he was feeling. "Get up, dumbass. Use your other hand."

"Shut the hell up, Greed," Ling growled, a hearty, weighted, strained sound. Wrath watched with disinterest, something within him tightening as he listened to Ling mumble to himself- to the traitor.

"This is exactly what I'm talking about," he finally spoke, pushing the sword further into the ground, the blade sliding against the inner flesh of the boy's hand. Ling whimpered, eyes straining on the horrendous sight. "You've fallen so far to the ground, Greed. You cower behind a child, even go so far as to fear for his life. You were never a true Homunculus, but seeing you in this state exceeded my expectations of how below us you have always been."

Ling groaned, his canines grinding against each other as his eyes flickered violet before returning to their natural hue. He had to move his other hand, quickly, or else Wrath would waste no time in sentencing his right hand to the same fate. He had to breathe, to be patient, to endure this pain for just a few seconds longer.

He could feel Greed threatening to push past his consciousness in order to switch places, causing his head to pound.

"Quit it!" he shouted, scrunching his eyes tightly as the Fuhrer loomed over him, shoving the blade down even further until only half of it remained above ground. For a moment, Wrath though that the boy was talking to him, pleading for him to relent on his torture. It only took a few moments for him to conclude that he was yet again speaking to Greed.

"You may have ridiculed Gluttony and shamed Lust while they were still alive," Wrath continued, attempting to egg the being on further. "But you were always the weakest of us. The only one of us who needed a vessel, and you couldn't even manage to handle that on your own." He leaned down toward Ling's face, the said boy grimacing and tilting his head away slightly as he stared directly at the sword rather than the Homunculus beside him. "You think we are angry about your betrayal, but truly, we are glad to no longer be associated with the likes of you. So thank you, Greed. For setting us free."

Ling could feel the conflict within Greed's mind once the words sank in. The boy had managed to creep his hand up toward his sword, which was still touching the tips of his now blood stained fingers, while Wrath stared at him awaiting the Avaricious' appearance. Only it never came, and before he could conceive it, Ling's right hand swiped over the handle of his Scimitar and grasped it tightly. He whipped the blade around skillfully, swiping it through the sword that stuck out from his palm and snapping Wrath's weapon in two. Within the same, singular movement, he twisted the blade around to aim at the Homunculus' abdomen. He sliced through it in a clockwise motion, successfully leaving a thin gash along the burly man's skin past his tight shirt.

Ling harshly raised his hand from the remainder of the blade embedded into the ground, a string of blood trailing from the gaping wound and transforming into a sharp red spark, surrounding his flesh and mending the broken bone and skin. Ling breathed in and out heavily as he watched his hand mend itself back together, his Scimitar secure within his other hold. He stumbled backward, preparing to proceed with their brawl, only to find a gust of dirt filtering into the atmosphere where Wrath had just stood.

The onyx eyed teen furrowed his brows, turning to look all around him only to find nothing but trees and abandoned homes surrounding him. A patch of blood stained the ground, surrounding the slim broken blade that stuck out of a crack in the middle of the path. The wind howled almost eerily, whipping the boy's messy hair about his face as he strained his eyes to scan the area for the large man, but he was gone, prints leading into the direction opposite of where Winry and Yoki had fled.

The prince let out a long breath, dropping his weapon and collapsing to the ground as the adrenaline left his body. He squinted beneath the sun's gaze, lifting his left hand to stare suspiciously at his palm. There was a dull ache to it and it was stained red, but there was no wound in sight- perfectly healed.

His chest rose and fell and his brows arched. "Greed," he exhaled. The boy received no response, for the said being must have been affected by the words that Wrath had spoken. "Greed, they were never your family," he said breathlessly, allowing his hand to fall to his side. "Their approval is not what you deserve. Or want. Because it's not real."

The Homunculus frowned within the dark space Ling called his mind, angered by the effect that Wrath had had on his mood. "Then what is?" he asked gruffly, yet a hint of vulnerability lay behind the hardened tone.

Ling allowed a smirk to slip back onto his chapped lips, an image of a girl with (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes flashing across his brain. Greed said nothing, for he witnessed the same thought.

"Let's go make sure Winry's alright," the boy said, yet his body didn't move.

Greed scoffed, pushing through the barrier of consciousness and taking over Ling's physicality, facial expression falling to fit his personality as his violet eyes narrowed under the blue sky.

He was silent, pushing himself onto his feet and lifting his Scimitar into his calloused hand. Greed sighed through his nose, hoisting the weapon over his shoulder and shoving his hand into his pocket. He turned to face the continued path, breaking into a run to catch up to the long gone runaway vehicle.