“Sinful Betrayal”

Chapter Two

Three Months Ago:

“Pride…”

The word croaked from Alphonse’s throat as he writhed in his bed, on the verge of feverish sobs. Sweat stuck his long golden hair stuck to his cheeks, and his hand clutched the pillow underneath his head. Through the broken window, the moon shone on the boy’s damp skin, giving it an angelic glow. Ed grinned at the sight and situated himself in his normal seat on the side of the bed before wringing a damp towel above the bowl of water and applying it Al’s forehead.

The boy let out a weak shriek, then rolled over. Ed followed him with only a few grunts of protest every time Alphonse rolled and smiled lovingly when he finally settled down. The boy’s face remained twisted, his bottom lip pulled into his mouth. Edward continued to brush back his brother’s hair, attempting to cajole him out of the captive night-terrors.

Time seemed to slow until Edward’s voice broke through the barriers of Alphonse’s dreams and led his little brother back into reality.

Al’s frightened golden eyes flickered into acknowledgement, and he relaxed against his pillow. “I’m sorry, Brother. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Hey, it’s okay. If you’re having nightmares, then I want to be here to stop them, especially if they’re my fault.”

Alphonse’s eyes softened in confusion. “What?”

“You called about ‘Pride’ again. You do it all the time,” Ed explained, his voice softening under the strain of emotion. He took off the compress from his brother’s head, dipped it in the basin on his knees, then wrung it out again before placing it back on his brother’s head. “If I would have known you were still having nightmares about me, I…I still would have done it, but I would have reassured you more that I could handle the Stone.”

“How? You didn’t know you could,” Al grated, then sighed. “Actually, that’s not what I was dreaming about.”

“Oh.” Wait. His little brother was calling out ‘Pride’ and it wasn’t about him, then what the hell was his brother dreaming about? “Al—”

“I keep hearing a voice,” Al elaborated in a whispered confession, averting his eyes. “I can’t make out what it’s saying most of the time, but I keep hearing, ‘Pride.’ ”

A sin? His brother heard a sin’s name? How was that even possible? What if…Ed flinched to think, but the Gate and its tollkeeper were devious creatures. When you give, you get something of equal value in return but not what you want. What if somehow Father had manipulated this? What if he didn’t use up the power of the Red Stone but instead transferred—

Ed fought the shudder that threaten to shake his entire body, not just his hands. He flexed his automail hand, feeling the weight of it in his shoulder, while his other hand dropped from his chin to his automail leg. He had given them up again for his brother, but what if what he wanted, he didn’t get?

“Ed?”

Ed’s protective reflexes kicked in, and he turned to his brother with a wide smile. “Hey, no worries. I’m sure it’s just some nightmares from the Gate or something. They’ll go away eventually.”

“But you had the pensive look on your face—the one where up curl your forefinger and put it under your chin.” Alphonse tried to sit up—unsuccessfully when Ed pushed him down again. “You always looked like that when going through the libraries. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. You worry too much.” Ed wrung out the towel again and applied it to Al’s forehead. “Go back to sleep.”

Several moments went by with Al’s eyes closed, but Ed knew it was only a matter of time before, “Ed?”

“Yeah?”

“What do you think this all means? The voice? My memories? Something’s wrong.”

Al had no idea, and Ed wanted to keep it that way.

He chucked the wet towel at his brother. “Just go back to sleep.”

Neither spoke during their journey back to Central. One thought continually died upon Ed’s lips before ever spoken. He knew Lin still existed in Greed. Did Alphonse in this sin…or was he…? Every time he opened his mouth to ask, the figure before him silenced him with a quick flick of his hand. Obviously, Sin controlled his brother’s body; otherwise, Alphonse would be berating him by now or talking with his fists.

As they moved through the crowded streets of Central, Ed stared fixated on the tattoo until Sin drew his hair back into a ponytail, which effectively covered it. Still, Edward knew it was there, the appalling image burned forever in his mind.

When they finally came up to the military headquarters, Sin stopped, his back straight and tense. He seemed to hesitate, and Edward’s entire world froze until the figure turned. Sin met his eyes for the first time since they left Father’s compound, and again, Edward’s own eyes stared back at him. They weren’t changed like Ed thought they would be—malicious with bloodlust. They were a beautiful gold glistening in the sunlight, precious treasures. Perhaps tired, yet the same as they had always been.

Sin motioned for Edward to go ahead. “You’ll have to show your watch to get us in.”

Edward let out a short breath. “Al—”

Those golden eyes sharpened, and Sin callously took away Ed’s lifeline. “Show your watch, Ed.”

Not his brother.

Ed reached out to grab Sin’s hand, to get him to just stop for one moment—but Sin grabbed Ed’s wrist and twisted it violently. A pained hiss escaped Ed’s whitened lips at the liquefied fire racing through his flesh arm.

“Don’t be an idiot. You could never beat me before. What makes you think you can do it now?”

“I’m not trying to fight you, damnit!” Reclaiming his hand, Ed rubbed it absently before letting it fall to his side. “We need to talk.”

Al stuffed his hand into his pockets and focused with mock intent upon Edward. “About what? The sin you committed or me?”

“Neither. I just have one question.” Edward hardened his glare and forced himself to meet Sin’s annoyingly calm face. “Is he okay?”

Confusion swept through Sin’s gaze.

“My little brother. Is he okay?”

Sin’s expression never changed, but after a few blank moments, the figure looked away and started toward the gate. “Come on.”

“I’m not going anywhere until you tell me.” Edward planted his feet, his back still toward the gate. He left his back completely open to Sin’s attack.

Like he expected, Sin halted. “Is that supposed to be some sort of threat, Edward?”

Edward clenched his fists. “You need me alive, don’t you? Otherwise, Father or any one of you homunculi would have already killed me.” Taking a deep breath, Edward sharpened his nerve and clapped in his hands. With one swipe along his automail, he turned his armored hand into blade. When he finally turned, he placed it beside his neck. “Either you tell me if my little brother is in there or—”

“Or what?” Sin asked bluntly and turned half-way to glance at Ed. “If I tell you he’s dead, you’ll likely attack me just to kill your brother’s murderer, and that wouldn’t help our cause, would it? If I tell you he’s alive, then you’ll probably still fight me to get him back. Either way doesn’t work for me.”

“Fine, then.” Edward bit down on his tongue to keep from screaming and slowly sunk his blade into his flesh. The pain was more piercing them he thought it would be, despite all the injuries he sustained, and a hot liquid seeped over his collarbone and down his chest.

“What if your little brother is alive?” Sin seemed hardly moved and only swiveled toward the gate. “You refused to leave him in an armored body, but you’d leave him with me in his flesh one? Guess you really don’t love him, do you?”

As much as Edward hated to admit it, Sin was right. He really wouldn’t kill himself, especially with Al trapped, and really, he was only hurting himself. A part of him took some masochistic relief in the sense that he was bleeding. He deserved far worse for what he had done to his brother, and if Alphonse was being tortured now, then at least they shared that.

Edward begrudgingly transmuted his arm back to its original form and wiped the blood from his neck. He knew he must still be bleeding, but he could take care of that later. As he strode past Sin, he glared without any pretense. “If my brother is alive, then I’ll get him back his body again.”

“And if he’s not?”

Don’t let it be so. No, Alphonse would not have been defeated like that. If Lin could survive it, then so would have Al. But… “Then I’ll kill you.”

Sin let out one snort and smirked. “How would you ever know anyway, Edward?”

Edward whirled, pocket watch in hand. “I know my own little brother, you bastard.”

“Do you, Brother?”

That was Alphonse’s voice, sweet and gentle, but reality viciously slapped Ed in the face when Sin smirked.

“Get us in, Edward.”

Ed continued to hold Sin’s glare, scrutinizing it for everything he could, and still, all he saw were his brother’s eyes. When he looked at Greed, he couldn’t see Lin. How was it possible that whoever this sin was and his brother were the same people? Perhaps Wrath would have an answer for him—something to tell him if Alphonse still existed.

After he showed his watch, Sin once more took the lead. Then, he realized what Father really had done. At first, Wrath held Winry over his head to keep him in the military. If Alphonse was truly in there, then Father wasn’t just taking on another homunculus. He stole someone else from Ed’s life to dangle over him.

Wait.

Ed blinked as Sin stopped climbing the stairs at the fourth floor and headed down the hallway. They passed Hughes’s former office and headed into the higher-ranking officer’s quarters. Of course, the Fuhrer wouldn’t mingle with such low ranks. His office was on the top floor of the headquarters.

Ed almost slammed into Sin’s back when he abruptly stopped in front of Colonel Mustang’s secretary. When had the colonel become Wrath? Well, now that he thought about it, all Mustang’s missions and comments made sense. All this time, he thought the Fuhrer was Wrath when really, it was Roy Mustang.

He would have told Al the joke, but…Al wasn’t Al anymore.

“The colonel is in with Major Armstrong, but he agreed to see you now,” the secretary said, drawing Ed’s attention.

“What happened to Wrath? I sense some sibling-in-soul rivalry there,” Ed quipped with a smirk, crossing his arms over his bloodied shirt.

Sin scowled and pushed Edward ahead of him. “Just shut up and get in.”

Colonel Mustang stood at his desk, his dark eyes brightening as he took in Ed’s entire disheveled appearance. He seemingly tried to hide his shock but kept a tense expression and maintained balance by holding his desk. However, Armstrong immediately leapt over and grabbed Edward in a bone-crushing hug.

“Edward Elric, how could you allow yourself to be injured in such a way? And you, Alphonse—”

“Uh, Major!” Edward snatched Armstrong’s overjacket before the major drew Sin into a tight embrace. “Al hurt a few ribs in the fight. It would be best, y’know, not to touch them.”

“Perhaps then we should be conducting this in a hospital room.”

“Maybe later. Right now, we just want to relax.”

“So, what happened, Ed?” Mustang asked when Ed slipped into one of the two seats in front of the colonel’s desk. Sin sat on the windowsill, one leg hitched up, the other one dangling off. “Even on your way away from the fighting, you still manage to get the crap kicked out of you. That has to be a natural talent.”

No small jokes. He couldn’t have looked that bad. Then again, Edward hadn’t glanced in a mirror since being taken by Father, so he really had no idea how severe his injuries appeared. Maybe his missing robe and sliced jacket simply caught Mustang’s attention.

“Detour. Father didn’t like the idea of Al and me taking a vacation. He wants us to stay in Amestris.”

“He must feel you two are too valuable to be allowed an exit,” Armstrong offered.

“No,” Mustang interjected, glancing between Armstrong and Ed. His glare fixated on the empty seat next to Ed before wandering to Al on the windowsill, but he quickly continued. “You said the last time you fought him both Scar and the Xing princess could use alchemy, while you couldn’t. He didn’t want us to learn how to use alchemy beyond what we have been taught.”

“To keep us powerless and stop any rebellion.”

“We have a far bigger problem, Major.” Father wanted to learn just what he and Al were doing, Ed realized. Sin simply sat and listened to the conversation unfolding, taking all that was being said and who was saying it. This way, Wrath could learn what Mustang and Armstrong knew and just how much a threat they were.

Well, he wasn’t going to let this Sin get away with it.

Ed speared Sin an unforgiving glare, who still remained passive. “Another homunculus has been created.”

“What?” Armstrong breathed. “How could that be?”

Mustang whirled toward him. “They haven’t created another Stone. We would have heard about it.”

“It isn’t a new one,” Ed said. “It must be at least four years old.”

“But even then, if a civilization would have fallen off the edge of the Earth, we should have known about it.”

Sin shifted on the windowsill and glanced out the window behind him. “It’s thousands of years old, created by souls of the people of Xerxes. It was trapped inside the Gate.” Sin’s voice now eerily reflected the brother Ed knew. “When Ed opened the Gate to retrieve my body, he also released the sin.”

Mustang’s eyes ricocheted from Al to Ed, who refused to meet the glare. “Fullmetal, is this true?”

Ed averted his eyes and leaned back in his chair. “…yes. I didn’t know it at the time, though. I guess all the Stone allows is the Gate to open. There is still equivalent exchange.”

For his brother’s body, the tollkeeper once more took Al’s freedom—and Ed’s lifeline.

“What sin?” Mustang demanded. “I killed Lust. You said Gluttony died after using up his regenerating power. Wrath, Envy, and Greed are accounted for. So, Sloth?”

“Pride.”

The cold tone in his brother’s voice sent shivers up Ed’s spine and swept through the room like a winter’s breeze, freezing everyone. Mustang finally shifted his steady gaze toward Alphonse. “Obviously, you had a run-in with him, Al.”

Pride shrugged, his head ducked as if embarrassed. “You could say that, Colonel. When I was separated from my brother, we became acquainted.”

Years ago…

Armstrong quickly shed his jacket, mistaking Pride’s indifference for shock, and draped it over the seemingly younger man’s shoulders. “Are you hurt? I swear, Alphonse Elric, if that sin ever—”

“Thanks, but I’m fine.” Pride granted Armstrong a small smile and patted the major’s arm. “Really.”

“So another one,” Mustang sighed and shook his head. “Great. Just when I think we’ve made a dent.”

“If this homunculus had been trapped in the Gate,” Armstrong debated, rubbing the bottom of his chin, “then perhaps he is not as strong as the others. He must not have—”

“Do not underestimate Pride,” the sin warned, his eyes still golden but sharper, with a deadly glint. “He is the First Homunculus. Never forget that.”

Mustang dug his hand into his pocket, leaning down onto his desk with the other. “So, what are we dealing with, Al?”

Pride leered, even though his face for the most part remained steady. If Ed hadn’t known to look for the tiny twitch of Al’s lips, he probably wouldn’t have seen it.

The door busted open suddenly.

“Colonel!”

Ed whirled to see Lt. Hawkeye standing just inside the doors. Confusion swept through her gaze, and she quickly composed herself and pushed the strands of hair that freed themselves from her clasp out of her eyes.

“I heard the Elric Brothers had been injured and thought I’d come tell you. Obviously, you know already.”

Ed blinked. “How’d you hear about that?”

“Wrath informed me you would be coming.” She furled an eyebrow. “He said you’d be coming to him, though.” Lt. Hawkeye came up in front of Edward, taking in all his injuries with her scrutinizing eyes. “Are you two all right?” She stopped abruptly when she turned to Alphonse, who now stood with his back toward her. Her eyes widened, though her hardened glare still remained.

Pride shrugged. “We’re fine. Just a little worse for wear.”

“Lt. Hawkeye,” Mustang started, relief in his eyes at seeing her alive. “Thank you for joining us. We were just discussing the appearance of a new homunculus.”

“Excuse me, sir,” Lt. Hawkeye snapped, taking out her gun and cocking it. Her eyes never left Pride’s back, and from then, neither did her gun’s barrel.

Armstrong stomped next to her. “Lt. Hawkeye, what are you doing?”

“You said you were discussing another homunculus. I thought that feeling of bloodlust was familiar. I guess this new one can shift his shapes, too, or is this Envy?”

Envy? Ed hadn’t thought of that. Could at sometime Father had switched Al and Envy to confuse him, to torture him and take his little brother—No. He had been watching the whole time, and they hadn’t been split through their entire journey. Then this just meant—

“Lt. Hawkeye, this is Alphonse, not a homunculus,” Armstrong explained once more, but Hawkeye didn’t lower her weapon. He moved to grab it, but a spark popped just inches from his fingers.

“Major Armstrong.” Mustang lifted his white glove into the air and motioned toward Alphonse—then toppled to the ground after a clap and the rumbling of the floor.

Hawkeye let out a grunt when a rock formation slammed into her back, and Major Armstrong hardly kept from falling on top of her. When they rose, Ed stood in front of Pride, his entire body blocking Hawkeye’s shot and Roy’s attack.

“I’m sorry, but I won’t let you hurt him.”

Mustang raised his hand, his forefinger resting upon his thumb. “Move out of the way, Fullmetal.”

“No! I’m not going to let you destroy my brother, Colonel.”

“Listen to us, Edward.” Hawkeye regained her footing and her threatening pose with her gun out in front of her. “That is not your brother—”

Edward shook his head. “You don’t understand.”

“You knew he was a homunculus when you brought him in here?” Mustang said incredulously, his face twisting into an angered scowl. “You betrayed—”

“He had no choice.” Pride’s voice was as calm as a morning sunrise. Shedding Armstrong’s jacket and moving his ponytail to the side, he revealed his tattoo to the audience. “He doesn’t know if his brother is alive or not, and he’ll do anything I tell him to in hopes that if Alphonse Elric is alive, I won’t kill him.”

A sudden clap startled Ed, and he glanced over his shoulder to see Pride transmute a lance.

“Stop this,” Ed commanded. “There is no need—”

“Do you think I’d listen to you?”

Edward grunted when the lance connected with his side, thrusting him out the fight. Shot after shot rang in the small room, and Edward turned in time to see Pride slice through Hawkeye’s gun. He scrambled to his knees and clapped his hands. As Pride whirled to impale Armstrong, a fist of concrete slammed into Pride’s stomach. Other than a grunt, Pride was unaffected, and he viciously lunged forward, crumpling Edward’s concrete fist and reclaiming his spear. Turning, he swiped at Hawkeye, but Mustang knocked her to the ground. Pride swiveled to Armstrong just in time to duck a rock formation with Armstrong’s head as a point.

Edward knew where the fight was headed, and he needed to end it—now. Jumping, he moved to wrap his legs about Pride’s head and bring him down, but Alphonse—whether a human or a sin—always beat Ed. Pride turned his attention from Armstrong and connected his spear with Ed’s head.

Thumping to the ground, Ed heaved in deep breathes as a river of blood poured down his face. He blinked up at Pride, who positioned the spear’s blade just under Ed’s chin.

“Colonel Mustang,” Pride addressed, almost formally, “you are Wrath’s problem, as Edward Elric is mine. I cannot kill either of you as of now.”

“Hurt him, and you’ll pay—whether you are in Alphonse’s body or not.”

Pride leered back at him. “Please. What are you going to do? You wouldn’t dare burn Alphonse Elric to death, would you?”

Mustang growled but kept his fingers poised to spark. The spear in Pride’s hand ever so slowly began to tremble, and his eyes lost their sharpness. His voice, however, remained cold.

“However, Lt. Hawkeye, Major Armstrong, know the only reason you live is because I do not have full control over his body. That will not be a problem in the near future.”

The spear clanged against the floor.

A horrified gasp burst from Alphonse’s mouth, and he suddenly crumpled to the floor at Ed’s feet, his arms wrapped around his stomach, his terrified eyes huge and glistening.

“No,” the boy whispered, clenching his eyes shut and rocking back and forth. “Nononono! You can’t make me!”

Ed stared, shocked to see the sudden change in his brother.

In his brother.

Alphonse.

He was alive.

“Al…”

Alphonse’s teary eyes fluttered open, but they quickly dulled as he kept muttering to himself. “No…please…stop…I didn’t want this….please…”

Flipping onto his knees, Edward gathered his brother in his arms, and Al responded by burying his face in Ed’s shoulder. He still rocked back and forth. “I couldn’t…I couldn’t…let him…”

“It’s okay. It’s going to all be okay.” Edward dropped his cheek to his little brother’s head. “I’ll make it okay.”

A fine trembling overcame Alphonse, even as he leaned against Edward, and it took a long time for him to finally calm enough to stop rocking. A shifting caught both’s attention, and Ed lifted his head to see Major Armstrong kneel next to Alphonse and place a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Major, Lieutenant, I—” Al gulped and ducked his head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to. I—I couldn’t…”

“It is okay, Alphonse Elric. It was not your fault.”

The door to the colonel’s office swung open, and Edward tensed at the sound of weapons and military boots. At his brother’s tearstained and shocked face, Ed knew who stood behind him, more military guards.

“What is the meaning of this?” Mustang demanded, moving behind Ed and blocking the Elrics from the forces’ view.

“Your secretary heard shots in the office, Colonel, and asked us to come and assist you.”

Ed turned at the sound of shifting to see Riza taking off her jacket and laying it across Al’s shoulders to hide the tattoo. Behind him, Mustang expelled the troops.

“You cannot stay here,” Armstrong murmured toward Edward. “If the Fuhrer were to find out—”

“He knows,” Al whispered, still staring at the floor. “We were supposed to go and see him, but I was able to stop Pride. Wrath was to reprimand Ed for trying to leave Amestris.”

“And then what?” Ed asked in earnest.

Al didn’t answer.

“Do…Do you want to talk about it?” Edward’s soft voice wafted through the train car, his words barely audible over the squealing of the wheels against the track.

Alphonse pulled his legs onto the bench and hugged them close to his chest. Riza’s jacket still hung about his shoulders, and he savored in the warmth it leant. “Leave me alone, Ed.”

“Hey.” Ed slipped into the seat next to Alphonse. He elbowed his little brother gently in the side, making sure not to hit any of the wounds he’d obtained in battle. “You love to talk. Every time anything goes wrong, you always have to talk it—”

“Maybe that’s because you needed someone to talk to, and you were too cowardly.” Al turned his back to his brother, so now his entire body faced the window.

Ed blinked, taken back by the harshness in his little brother’s voice. He swallowed hard, and that knot that had been in stomach since Father’s interrogation tightened even more.

“Al—”

“Go away.”

“Alphonse, come on.” He grabbed his brother’s shoulder and squeezed. “I’m sorry. You don’t know how much, but—”

“I said—” Alphonse swatted off Edward’s hand, and when he turned, he startled his older brother with the amount of abhorrence breeding in his eyes. “—I don’t want to talk about it!”

“But that’s not you. You have to talk about it everything. You always wanted to talk about Dad, and I just—”

“I said, ‘STOP!’ ”

Al slammed into Ed’s side, forcing him off the bench and onto the aisle floor. Pushing pass the pain in his butt, he raised his demoralized eyes. “Alphonse…”

“Get away from me…” the boy commanded weakly, tears glistening in his eyes. Quickly looking away, he moved to the end of the bench and resumed gazing out of the window.

Edward sat on the floor for several moments before pushing to his feet. He glanced at Alphonse, was forced to swipe his hand over his eyes again, and moved to the back of the car. Falling into a seat, he glared out the window, his golden eyes taking in the rural scenery. Normally on the way to Resembool, he’d calm down from whatever fight he and Al had just survived, but now, his nerves were more on edge than ever.

Of course, that could have something to do with the people across from him.

“Well, this is a surprise. I didn’t see you there, Fullmetal. I guess I must have just looked far enough down.”

Edward spared a quick, piercing glower at the colonel across from him, then looked away. “You know, you didn’t have to accompany us home. We don’t need babysitters.”

“From what I hear,” Roy Mustang shrugged and looked out the window as well, “you’re a precious human sacrifice, and Al’s now on the run. Better in my hands than the homunculi controller’s.”

“Wow, good to know I might one day give my life for you,” Edward snorted, his lips parting to smile that ever challenging grin he reserved only for Mustang. “Remind me to commit suicide before then. And by the way, they let me go. They don’t need me just yet.”

“But not your brother,” Mustang shot back.

“Al’s not your concern, Colonel.” Ed shifted his glare out the window again. “He’s not a State Alchemist, and the sin in him should cause more problems for you.”

The colonel smirked and clenched his hand. “As I said, Fullmetal. In my hands, on my leash.”

Ed narrowed his eyes, then allowed his glare to falter for the briefest of moments. He heard the underlying truth. Mustang wouldn’t let Edward’s brother be hurt, not if he could help it. Ed’s voice hardly rose loud enough for Mustang to hear. “Thanks.”

“Not to mention, if I’m the one who controls the First Homunculus, I can use Pride to kill Wrath, and I can become the Fuhrer,” Mustang brayed.

How fast could he transmute his automail and stab Mustang? Faster than the colonel could snap? Hm…probably not.

“What are you doing back here, Edward?” Riza asked, sitting next to Mustang. “I thought you’d be sitting with Alphonse.”

Edward averted his eyes, so he didn’t look into her drawing gaze. At times, Riza reminded so much him of Winry that he would be drawn into telling her anything—or nothing, if he wanted to protect her. “Al’s processing, and whenever he’s pissed, he’s no fun to be around. I could ask you the same thing, Lt. Hawkeye. I thought Wrath wanted you where he could see you.”

Riza’s eyes darkened. “It seems that the Fuhrer knew Pride would not listen to Father, and he wished me to keep track of Pride—and the colonel.”

“Speaking of your brother—” Mustang smirked.

His brother…Pride? That kept sounding worse and worse.

“What happened with you two? He usually doesn’t kick your ass unless you two are sparring.”

Ed put up one finger for each point. “One, he didn’t kick my ass, and two, for once, you don’t know everything about my life, Colonel. Victory for Elric.”

“Small one, maybe.”

A mouth-opening yawn cut off Ed’s growl as he collapsed to the bench. Turning, he lay with his face toward the seat. “Wake me when we get there.”

Finally gaining some comfort, he was startled by a jacket thrown over his hip. Blinking, he looked up to see Mustang sitting in his chair, now only a dark turtleneck covering his torso and arms. The colonel stared out the window, as if he hadn’t even moved. When Edward finally grasped what Mustang had done, he surprised even himself when he didn’t throw the jacket off immediately. Though he would never thank Mustang, he appreciated the gesture. His red alchemist robe had been torn to shreds, leaving only his tattered jacket and black tanktop. Resembool was nowhere near as cold as the mountains, but he surely felt more comfortable with the warmth. Smiling slightly, he relazed and huddled underneath the makeshift blanket.

“I know more than you give me credit for,” Mustang’s ever crisp voice cut through the silence.

“You know nothing about this.” Edward added only to himself, Thank Whoever. After all, Mustang extorted Edward after he had just become a State Alchemist not to tell the Fuhrer of the colonel’s plan to succeed him. Since then, Edward had precious few secrets, and he thanked Whatever power or deity who might have existed that he had at least one.

As he teetered on the brink of sleep, he cursed Mustang, though that was nothing new, who decided to talk again. “You know, I wonder why in all those letters to the State, you never made any mention of a brother.”

Edward stiffened.

“And when I first saw you after that pitiful attempt at human transmutation, Alphonse in that suit sat in the corner, shivering and crying, and the two of you didn’t even speak. In fact, it looked like you didn’t even know each other.”

“He was scared and alone and cut off from the world.” Edward didn’t turn, but his callous tone conveyed his feelings. “What’d you expect?”

“By the time you came to East City a year later, Alphonse’s personality did a one-eighty. All he wanted was not to be split from his brother, the same one who had put him in that state. My guess…” Mustang paused, followed by a grief-stricken murmur. “Father fed that boy the Stone four years ago, and somehow, he ended up at the Gate. You took him from there when you didn’t see your mother and transmuted your memories into his soul.”

Edward shot into a sitting position and whirled toward Mustang. His laugh was so fake that he didn’t even believe it. “Right. Sure. Like I could do that at the age of eleven.”

“That’s why Pride said he had been locked in the Gate, and you released him because he was in Al’s body,” Mustang ended.

“Edward…” Riza gasped. “How could you?”

Edward stared at her before shooting a glare toward outside. He pulled on Mustang’s jacket and crossed his arms, sitting back in his seat. He refused to answer but knew Hawkeye and Mustang wouldn’t let him sleep now that he confirmed their suspicions.

“You were just some scared little boy, weren’t you, Ed?”

“Don’t give me that shit!” Ed screamed, then pointed an accusatory finger at Mustang. “You have no idea what it was like for me or him. You don’t know what either of us went through, and so what if we didn’t want to be alone anymore? So what if we decided to become family, and he just took my memories?”

“Was that the way you came to that decision? The both of you, together?”

Edward’s hard eyes continued to glower out the window before slowly drooping shut.

“You created your own brother.” Mustang’s voice held no anger. “That’s arguably even worse than a human transmutation.”

“No! I didn’t transmute his personality or his feelings. All I did was take what I knew about him and what little I grabbed from his soul and shaped my memories to include him. I didn’t ‘create’ him or ‘make’ him how I wanted. If I did, I would have stopped him from ever talking about The Bastard.”

“But your father is not Alphonse’s,” Riza interjected calmly.

“Al is my brother. I wasn’t lying about that.”

Mustang crossed his arms. “Why do I feel that you’ve left something out of your report, Fullmetal.”

Edward sighed, leaning his back upon the bench and looking toward the heavens. “Father at least explained that to us. Since I was only a year old when Alphonse was taken, I didn’t know he existed, but on some level, I must have known about him to have been drawn to him at the Gate.”

“You’re going to trust the enemy?” Mustang scoffed.

“He has no reason to lie,” Ed objected innocently, opening his tired, golden eyes. “Wouldn’t he want to split Al and me up?”

Riza looked over to Roy. “He has a point, Colonel.”

“So, tell us, Fullmetal.” Mustang leaned forward, and the colonel reminded Ed of Hughes so much. So, some of Mustang’s best friend rubbed off on him after all. “What really happened when you and Al were captured?”

For the longest time, Edward didn’t answer. He just stared out the window, watching as the scenery passed at a rapid pace. His hair, now pulled back into a ponytail, blew across his face, outlining his hard eyes.

“The Bastard has something to do with ‘Father.’ I don’t know what, and I honestly don’t give a shit. He’s the reason why Al’s angry at me, and I fully intend to put the blame on him.”

“I don’t think he forced you to transmute yours and your brother’s memories,” Mustang pointed out.

Edward ignored him. “Right after Al was born, Envy and Wrath came to take me to Father. They didn’t know about Al, but once they were there, they tried to take him, too. Our father had to choose between me and Alphonse and chose me.” His hands tensed so much that he could no longer keep his arms crossed, and they balled on the seat, pressing into the cushions. “I will never forgive him for that.”

“Why? Because he loved you more than Al?” Riza asked, laying a hand on Edward’s flesh one.

“Because he should have saved Al. Then maybe none of this would have happened. Al wouldn’t have tried to resurrect Mom by himself.”

Mustang’s stoic voice never wavered. “Or he would have and not have been as skilled an alchemist as you.”

“He’s better than me,” Ed replied dismally. “He’s seen more of the Gate, especially since he gave up his entire body.”

“WHAT?” Mustang’s eyes shot toward Edward, who met his shocked glower head on.

“Yeah. Al was trying to transmute the sin from his body. That’s why he was at the Gate that day, but the tollkeeper took his body and Pride in exchange for Al’s freedom from Father and Pride.”

“So, Father raised Al,” Mustang concluded, though he spoke the non sequitor for confirmation.

“But Al isn’t with them. You know that.” Ed didn’t know why he was pleading, but somehow, he felt like protecting his brother, especially since he couldn’t against the demon in the boy’s own body. “Al tried to fight the reaction when Father gave him back his memories and awoke Pride.”

“But you have to be careful,” Riza advised. “When Pride is in control, you can’t trust Alphonse.”

Edward glared back at Riza. “I will always trust Al.”

“Mine telling us where he’s going, then?”

“Wha…?” Following Mustang’s gaze, Ed glanced over his shoulder. His eyes widened at the sight of Riza’s jacket trotting toward the door of the train car to head for another. “Hey, Al!” Edward yelled, but his brother refused to even turn toward him. “Al! I’m yelling at you!”

He really didn’t expect Alphonse to turn and reassure him that he just was going to the dinning car, but he expected his brother at least to acknowledge him. When Al slipped from the room, Edward shot from his seat and ran after his brother. “AL! WAIT!”

“Fullmetal!” Mustang chastised, but Edward was already half-way down the car, startling the other patrons of the train. Slamming open the door, he blinked against the sweeping gusts of wind from the now open car door, and his heart jumped from his chest at the sight of his little brother staring down at the ground rushing past them.

“Alphonse!”

Al glanced toward him for a moment but just enough for Edward to glimpse at the tears in his brother’s eyes. Then, without a second thought, Al’s uncertain face hardened, and he jumped.

“NO!” Edward lunged forward, desperately reaching to grab his brother’s wrist with his automail hand. Clamping about the soft flesh, he fought the wind to yank his brother back inside the train, Alphonse’s long, loose hair blowing in his face. The momentum of Edward’s tug brought them both crashing through the open door of the train car and onto the floor. Al’s bigger frame slammed Edward’s against the floor, and though he fought to even breathe, Ed clung to his brother. Though he didn’t think Alphonse really would have died—Al was, after all, a homunculus—Edward would be damned if he allowed his brother to risk it and be left alone in this world.

“No…” Alphonse breathed before pushing toward his feet. “No!” He shot toward the door again, but desperation gripped Edward, causing him to wrap his arms around his brother and fight.

“You idiot! You can’t jump off a train!”

Alphonse struggled, trying to gain some ground, but Edward’s hold about his waist and chest only strengthened.

“Let me go!”

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“I don’t know! You tell me! You created my personality!”

“Will you shut up about that?”

Edward felt Alphonse’s elbow before he saw it, digging into his gut and forcing him to his knees. Grunting, Ed still shot to his feet and once more clamped his automail about Alphonse’s wrist. Without a second thought, he slammed his younger brother against the wall. He caught the gasps exploding from his brother’s mouth, but he failed to acknowledge them or Alphonse’s squirming arm.

“You might’ve been killed. I won’t let that happen. I worked too hard to keep you here and get your body back, and for what? So you could throw it away!”

“You mean you created my memories and my feelings and personality, and you wouldn’t want that to be all for nothing, right, Brother?” Alphonse’s wrist continued to squirm to be released, but Edward simply tightened his grip until Al stopped.

“You don’t remember that night. You don’t know what I had to hear. I thought I could give you and me a family, but I never—”

“So this is my fault?” Alphonse winced, his breathing increasing rapidly, as if in tremendous pain. Bending his leg, he forced it into his brother’s gut. “You’re actually blaming me for your transmutation?”

The older brother didn’t let go of Al’s wrist and dragged the boy to the floor with him. “Ouch, damnit! Of course not! But you—”

*SNAP!*

Edward rolled upon Al before finally releasing his brother’s wrists and covering the younger’s form with his own. When the flames above them simply dissipated in the air, Ed reticently glowered up at Mustang, Riza and just behind them, Major Armstrong.

“Edward Elric! What has gotten into you?” The major pushed past Mustang and Riza and tossed Edward off his brother.

Edward glared until he saw Armstrong crouch down in front of Alphonse. The major gently took Al’s arm in his hands and pushed back Riza’s coat sleeve. Alphonse immediately tugged his arm away, but the major muttered some brisk command—or threat, Ed thought he heard. A simple yank by Armstrong brought Al in compliance, and the major eased back the sleeve, revealing Edward’s damage. Ed gasped, and his trembling eyes widened in consternation and then horror. Already coloring his little brother’s wrist were contusions in hues of dark purple and navy.

“Alphonse…” Edward quickly pushed over onto all fours to stand, wanting to be the one to look after his brother when a hard hand clamped on his shoulder and held him back.

“Major Armstrong,” Mustang’s harsh voice cut through the air, just over Ed’s shoulder. “Please escort Al to the next car. Fullmetal, come back to your seat.”

“What!” Whirling, Ed grabbed Mustang’s collar, pulling the colonel down to his height. “You might have authority over me in matters of the state, but you will never have authority over me with my brother.”

“Stop!”

Ed’s hold slackened, and his hand slipped from Mustang at the command from his brother. Slowly turning, he inhaled sharply at the sight of Al’s hardened and tearful eyes.

“I don’t like this, Ed.” He pulled the jacket about him tighter and wrapped his arms about his stomach.

“What?”

“Not knowing who I am. First, Father manipulated me and molded me how he wanted before feeding me that Stone, and now you’ve invaded my spirit and injected your own ideas of who I am.”

Edward scoffed, “You idiot! You know I would never do that.”

“Do I?” Alphonse asked, his voice still as hard as steel. He glared at Edward but made no advances toward him. “I trusted you with everything, and I never, ever questioned who you were or who I am except for that one time when you were hospitalized. And even then, you lied to me! You took your memories and put them into me, and now I can’t even tell which are real and which are fake. The ones I know to be real don’t feel real, and the ones I want to be real can’t be true.” He looked away and shook his head, on the verge of tears. His arms wrung about his waist, and the sharpness in his eyes faltered for a moment before they steadied. “I don’t even know what I want to do anymore. I can’t decide what’s me and what’s you. What if everything I do and everything I am is nothing more than a personality and a name you created?”

“Come on! You know I wouldn’t—” Ed tried to run up to his brother, but the major stepped in front of him, blocking his path. He glowered up at Armstrong before looking about him. “Little brother, just listen to me for two seconds—”

“Why, so you can manipulate me? So you can transmute my memories and personality again? ” The coldness of Pride once more infiltrated Al’s voice. “Do you really think you’re that smart, to be able to manipulate him a second time? Please.”

“…Al…”

Mustang grabbed Ed’s collar and jerked him backwards. “Major.”

Armstrong nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Edward’s clenched fist shook when Alphonse didn’t even glance toward him as his little brother walked through the door with the major directly behind him. Armstrong kept a firm hand on the boy’s shoulder to make sure the younger Elric didn’t try to jump again. Only once Alphonse was safely in the other car did Edward turn.

“Who the hell do you think—”

“You hurt your brother, and now he’s questioning everything in his past.” Mustang waved his hand absently and headed back toward his seat again. “He needs time. You can at least give him that, can’t you?”

Edward growled at the tone in Mustang’s voice. He didn’t like the situation, but he hated it even more knowing Mustang was right.