Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ A Forgotten Memory ❯ Chapter 1: Reports ( Chapter 1 )

Disclaimer: I don't own Full Metal Alchemist or any of the characters from it. I do however, own the character-who-has-yet-to-be-named. You find out her name here.

A/N: The length picks up here. Please enjoy!

Chapter 1

 

Ed sat up in his bed, gasping for breath. His left arm was shaking, but he didn't feel any movement in his right. His heart was thudding against his chest. The breeze coming through the open window hit him in the face and woke him up fully. Why had Al left the window open again? Ed swung his legs off the side of the bed and leaned his face against his hands, groaning a little.

 

How many times had he dreamt that? How often had he seen her face while he slept? The guilt that plagued him was so great still; it was hard for him to sleep. But it hadn't been his fault, really! She was an independent girl, he knew from that alone. Even if he'd had a choice in the matter, he wouldn't have been able to change her mind from taking that bullet for him.

 

For him.

 

That was why he was so guilty. That bullet had been meant for him. If it hadn't been for her, Ed would probably be dead now, or paralyzed. Countless times he'd replayed those few minutes in his head, thinking about what it would have been like had he been hit, instead. They were the same height, and it hit her in the upper abdomen. Making himself think about it again, as punishment, he could imagine the pain in his mid-back, where he should have been shot.

 

Punishment.

 

Yes, he was punishing himself. If he had been more alert and hadn't let his guard down, then he would have sensed that other presence. It had been his fault in so many ways that she had been taken away from him. Time and again, Winry had tried to convince him that it wasn't his fault; that it was just the way she had chosen to go. Ed hadn't listened. It was his fault she had been taken and he refused to believe otherwise.

 

But it didn't follow the Law of Equivalent Trade! She had been taken from him, just like his arm and leg, but what had he been given in return? For his leg, he had been given that thing he'd transmuted with Al. For his arm had been Al's soul, transfixed into that armor. But for her, what did he have? Grief, shame, and self-hate. But none of those were equal to her! What else had he gotten in return?

 

“What else?” he said angrily to the wall. “What else did I get?”

 

“Brother?” Al asked from the other side of the room.

 

Ed took a deep breath to calm himself. “Yes, Al?” he replied evenly.

 

“Are you thinking about her again?” the younger boy asked.

 

The eldest—no, second eldest—laid back down onto his bed. “Yeah.” He let out long sigh. “Don't mind me, Al,” he said softly. “I'll be fine.” A yawn escaped.

 

“Good night, brother,” Al murmured, but Ed was already asleep again.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Isabel stared out the window lifelessly. Why? That was the only thought, the only thing that processed in her mind. Why had things ended up like this? Just as she had been given another shot at happiness, it had been taken away ruthlessly. Her happiness and her brothers both, all in one fell swoop. Why hadn't she been permitted to go back to them? It had been six months since they'd been reunited for six hours. Why did she have to live in a mental health facility? She hadn't done anything wrong, and she was sure she wasn't crazy.

 

“You're answering your own questions again, Isabel,” her psychiatrist said.

 

She spared him a quick glance then gazed back out at the rain. She didn't care. She didn't care about this place. She wished it would just burn down and turn to cinders. She just wanted to get back to her brothers. What were they doing now? Did they even care that she had “died?” Did they think about her still? Or had they forgotten her that day to go on living their previous life? Were they depressed because their elder sister had been taken away from them again?

 

“The only way you'll ever get out of here is if you start talking to us, Isabel,” the man, who was shorter than Ed, told her. “Now, what's on your mind?”

 

She ignored him. Why did he even try? He knew she wouldn't say anything to him. She hadn't spoken one word since she'd woken up in the building. She'd written plenty of things in a journal, but the psychiatrists read it so she never put too much detail in them. No sense in them getting under her skin and knowing what she was thinking.

 

In fact, if they knew how much she thought about using her alchemy to get out of that place, they'd probably have her on so many medications she couldn't tell which end was up. So she left everything about alchemy out of her journal. Mainly, she wrote about how much she hated the food there, and what the other people in her wing talked about. Nothing of great importance.

 

“Very well, your hour is up anyway.” The man stood up and closed the very nearly empty folder. “Tomorrow afternoon, I want progress. Don't make us have to influence you to speak.”

 

That was an empty threat. They would never do anything to her that involved taking her hands out of the stockholders. One second out of them would be their demise. On her wrists were tattoos that allowed her to perform alchemy without drawing a circle. Lucky for her all the doctors were too stupid to think of removing them. Or were they smart for not even attempting?

 

Isabel was led out into the hall and then escorted back to her room. There, she was under heavy surveillance. Her walls were made out of a material that resisted any marking at all. There were guards watching her to know if she would try to perform something on the walls or the bed. She had no surfaces in her room except for her bed. Even then, there was no way she could form a transmutation circle. Maybe they were smarter than she gave them credit for. They'd covered all the bases of keeping an alchemist from using their ability.

 

She was tired. For the past few nights, she hadn't slept. She hadn't allowed herself the luxury of sleeping. Not while there was a chance of escape. There was a military official coming soon for some reason. The people working in the ward would be too flustered to notice what she drew during her journal entry. If she had enough time, then she could transmute the bonds over her wrists to something easy to break. Then, she'd do as she pleased.

 

What she wanted to do was get out of this ward and find her way back to Rizenbul to find her brothers. She'd stop at nothing to do that. God help whatever stood in her way.

 

There was a knock on her door. She said nothing still. Let them think she was asleep. Better yet, let them think she was dead. Then they might just throw her out into the street. Yeah, that'd be good. A smooth getaway. That was just what she needed. Or maybe they'd just start leaving her alone when it wasn't time for a meal or an appointment.

 

“Miss Elric, you have a guest,” the guard outside her door said.

 

A guest? She sat up in her bed, alert. She placed her hands on her thighs and watched as the door opened. It creaked on its hinges as the gap slowly widened. The clicking of booted feet echoed in her empty room. The blue pants looked so familiar she could gag. Her eyes trailed up to a face. His black hair was messily cut and scattered everywhere. The dark depths of his eyes pierced her. But what made her lose the gasp in her throat was his scowl.

 

God, he was good at that.

 

She couldn't believe who it was.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“Edward?” Winry stepped out onto the balcony and saw Edward leaning on the rail. The wind ruffled his unkempt hair and blew it in his eyes, but he didn't seem to mind. “I brought you something to drink.” She held out a cup.

 

It took a moment for life to come back to Edward but he finally looked at her. “Thanks,” he murmured and took the glass. He didn't drink, though, only held the mug between his palms and continued to stare at the sunset. The sky looked almost exactly how it had that day, six months ago to the day. There were purple, pink, and orange clouds lazing about in the horizon. The sun was just dipping below some hills in the distance and was blood red. It reminded him of Isabel's blood staining his shirt as he'd carried her into the house.

 

Winry stood next to him and leaned on the rail as well. “So,” she murmured.

 

After Isabel had asked him to forgive her, Ed had picked her up and ran inside. He met Al, Auntie, and Winry at the door. Auntie had immediately turned to phone for someone to pick Isabel up and drive her to the hospital. Ed had told them there wasn't enough time and turned around. He'd started running towards the town. He would make it in time, much quicker than it took for someone to drive to the house and then drive back.

 

But tears had blinding his vision. About twenty meters from the house, he'd stumbled, but Al had helped him stay afoot. Ed hadn't even noticed his brother running beside him. When they'd reached the hospital and demanded that someone see Isabel that second, the doctor had taken her back. Alone in the almost empty waiting room, Ed had stood facing a window. His mind had been assaulted with thoughts and reasons why. Not one had satisfied him.

 

Why had she been taken away from him so soon?! “Why?” he asked the air.

 

“What?”

 

Ed looked down at his cup and shook his head. “Nothing. Forget it,” he mumbled.

 

“You know, you need to start thinking more about what you're doing to yourself, Edward Elric! You've been so depressed lately that you've lost weight! You're even more of a bean now!” Winry yelled. No response to the word “bean.” She sighed. “Edward, it was six months ago. You need to get over it.”

 

Very carefully, Ed set the cup on the edge of the rail. He turned a steely glare on Winry. “She was my sister, Winry. I hadn't seen her for nine years. We only saw each other for less than six hours before someone killed her right in front of me! I don't even know who did it!” he said harshly.

 

Winry took a couple steps back. “Edward—”

 

“My sister was taken from me by a stranger like that and you want me to forget her?” He took a few deep breaths, but his shoulders began to shake. “It was my fault, too,” he murmured. “It was all my fault she was killed. If I had been paying more attention to what was around us, then she might still be alive. But I was more focused on my fury than the person only a few yards away.” Ed turned back to the rail and looked down at the contents of the cup. He vaguely registered the sound of an engine approaching.

 

“Ed, I didn't know you—”

 

“Forget it, Winry,” he growled.

 

“But—”

 

“I said forget it!” he shouted and knocked the cup off the rail. It hit the ground with a shattering crash. Ed focused on it finally and then saw a familiar form looked back up at him.

 

“Winry-san, does he normally greet guests like that?” Major Armstrong asked.

 

Winry shrugged and left. Edward scowled again. He would have scowled at the ground, but he couldn't see anything for the tears in his eyes. Finally, someone else knew the truth of what he felt, but he was too proud to admit he wanted help to deal with it. He didn't want Winry to get more involved in this than she should. He couldn't take it if something happened to her, too.

 

“Edward-kun,” Armstrong said when he came outside again. Ed ignored him. “I have news for you from Colonel Mustang.”

 

“Great,” Ed mumbled. More mocking remarks about his absence, probably. The man never seemed to know when to stop. One of these days, he was going to get a beating from Ed that would scar him for life.

 

“You may want to sit down somewhere,” Armstrong advised sagely before saying more.

 

Ed continued standing, but he turned to face the Major. “Go on. Let me know what Colonel Mustang wants to mock me about now.”

 

Armstrong shook his head. “ `There is a chance your sister is alive',” he quoted. “ `I'm going to confirm that now.' ” Edward looked at Major Armstrong in shock before he fell back onto the floor. “ `Report to Eastern Headquarters as soon as possible. And Edward? Don't fall.' ”

 

He couldn't believe it. Isabel was possibly alive? Where had Colonel Mustang heard that? Edward had been there when they'd proclaimed her death. He'd seen her pale form, touched her cold skin. He'd denied the papers to allow the government to take her body. He'd wanted her to be cremated and have her ashes buried near their old house so she would always be there. He'd been the one to bury her remains! And now he was hearing there was a possibility of her still being alive?

 

“What kind of sick joke is this, Major?” he demanded from his spot on the ground still. “Because if it's the colonel being a jerk, then he's going to regret this!”

 

Armstrong looked down at Ed understandingly. “This isn't a joke. I saw the reports myself.”

 

“R-Reports?”

 

“There are records of an Isabel Elric in a Dublith City Psychiatric Ward. Why they were holding her there, we don't know yet. But it probably has something to do with the people after you.” Armstrong folded his beefy arms over his equally beefy chest. “I suppose you'll want to read them yourself.”

 

“Where are they?” Edward finally stood up and glared at Armstrong. “Where are the reports?” he asked angrily.

 

Al had come out just then and looked a little taken aback by the tone in Edward's voice. “Brother?”

 

“I don't have the papers, Edward,” Armstrong said apologetically.

 

“Where are they, then?” the Full Metal Alchemist yelled. He appeared to be on the verge of hysteria.

 

Armstrong inwardly smirked at the reaction he would receive for the answer. “Eastern Headquarters.”

 

Edward's jaw dropped as the realization came quickly. “That—He—”

 

“Colonel Mustang knew that if you had all the facts now that you would go to Dublith by yourself. He wanted to talk to you in East City, so he made me leave the papers there,” Armstrong explained. “There's a train that leaves tomorrow morning for East City that we can take if you like.”

 

He shook his head vigorously. “Now. We go now,” Ed growled. “Come on, Al!” He headed inside, passed Al, passed Auntie, and passed a very teary Winry. He spared her a quick glance before he stomped to his room. Aware of Armstrong and Al following him, he began shoving clothes into his suitcase. There had to be a train leaving very soon for East City. If not, then they would walk to the next station. He couldn't just sit and wait around for something.

 

“Brother,” Al said from beside him. “Are you sure we should leave now?”

 

“Alphonse,” Armstrong said from the door. “Colonel Mustang has found documents of an Isabel Elric in Dublith City Psychiatric Ward.”

 

Al looked at Armstrong, then at Ed, and then back at the Major. “But Isabel died, Major. She was burned and I watched Brother bury her ashes,” Al pleaded. He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself rather than Armstrong.

 

“Al,” Ed said lowly. “This is a second chance, a possibility of getting Isabel back again. I don't want to pass it up, even if it is a hunch. What if she really is alive and we ignored this? I would never forgive myself, Al.”

 

There was a moment of silence before Al nodded. “All right. But don't you think we would wait—”

 

“No! We need to go now to East City. I want to find out as soon as possible.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It was he, come to rescue her. Right?

 

“Colonel Mustang?” the guard outside the door began. “She hasn't said a word s—”

 

“I know,” Mustang snapped.

 

“And she's under high surveillance b—”

 

“I know! Leave us,” he growled. After the guard finally understood that Mustang knew what he was up against, the door clicked shut quietly. When Mustang looked at Isabel finally, he shook his head and muttered a few choice words about the guards. He walked over to her and looked down at the girl.

 

She couldn't believe it. Her existence was known to the outside world? Did Ed know? Did he care? What about Al? Even though they hadn't spent as much time together, he was still her younger brother. Isabel missed them both sorely. How she'd been able to stay away from them for so long was beyond her now. But what did the colonel have to do with her? Well, besides those years in her past she would rather forget.

 

“Do you know why you're here?” Mustang asked. When she only stared, he added, “Anything you tell me will not leave my confidence.” Isabel pointedly looked around the room. In every corner were cameras. “Very well, then. Nod or shake your head for yes or no. I repeat: do you know why you're here?”

 

Isabel thought a moment then shook her head.

 

“Do you know how long you've been here?”

 

She nodded.

 

Mustang pulled out a small notebook and scribbled something. “Do you remember what happened before you were here?”

 

She winced. All too well, she thought. With a little bit of a nod, she could feel the tears stinging her eyes. Mustang was still questioning her, but she was only listening with half an ear. Her mind was elsewhere at the moment. It was back at the day she'd seen her brothers again for the first time in years. She'd been so happy to be with them again, despite the obvious hurt and frustration Edward had felt. Al didn't seem to remember much of her, though. The more Isabel thought about it, the more she felt like crying. She couldn't help the first few tears that spilled over her cheeks. Finally, the colonel asked her a question that caught her full attention.

 

“Do you want to get out of here?” he asked. If it had been in her to speak, Isabel would have pledged life and limb if he could get her out of this place.

 

Silently, with tears streaming down her cheeks, Isabel nodded. He had no idea how much she would like that.

 

How soon? her mind screamed. She wanted to ask so badly. Her mouth formed the shape of the words, but no sound. The colonel seemed to notice her attempt to speak and waited patiently. `Come on, you can do it. You can ask. It isn't so hard,' she told herself.

 

When Mustang felt like she wouldn't say anything, he nodded and started to leave. From the time he crossed the room from her bed to the door, Isabel was building up the energy to speak. Just as his hand was on the doorknob, she felt something within her change, like a switch had suddenly been hit. She squeaked when she tried to speak first. Colonel Mustang turned around in surprise but stifled it easily. Isabel cleared her throat and spoke for the first time in six months.

 

“How soon can you get me out?” she asked quietly.

 

Either Mustang was thinking or he was taken aback in shock since he didn't say anything for a few moments. Finally, he said, “As soon as I can get permission, Isabel-chan,” he told her confidently.

 

She smiled at him. “Thank you.” And he left, left her alone in her room. Even though the time that he could gain permission might be a long while, she was very glad to have the prospect of getting out of this psych ward.

 

A wave of fatigue washed over her. Even though it would be mealtime soon, she lay down on her bed again and stared up at the ceiling. Just as blessed sleep was about to claim her, a thought reached her.

 

What if Mustang was lying?

 

Before she could answer for herself, she rolled over and fell into slumber.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Edward stared out the window. His leg was bouncing anxiously. He knew it was about to drive Winry insane; her expression alone was enough for him to tell. He didn't care, though. He had too much nervous energy at the moment. How else would he expel it on a train? He'd tried to walk around, but a guard had told him to return to his seat. He'd tried sleeping, but that had only resulted in tossing and turning on the seat. Winry had spoken her mind so many times about him “just calming down and things would be easier” he was about to jump off the train and walk the rest of the way to East City.

 

They were almost there. They'd been on the train for almost the entire three days, and there was only a few hours left. Ed hoped he'd last that long. If his nerves didn't kill him first, then Winry and Al certainly would. But thankfully Winry was sleeping. Al was just watching Ed carefully.

 

“Brother, how much longer?” Al asked.

 

Ed smiled a bit. So his little brother was just as anxious. “About three more hours, Al,” Ed replied softly.

 

He didn't know why, but he couldn't bring himself to yell at Al that often. The only times they ever fought was over a big ordeal or, as Al would put it, Ed tried to do something stupid and nearly killed himself. Just like six months ago, with Scar and the initial reason they'd gone back to Rizenbul. Ed constantly had to check his attitude so he wouldn't shout at his brother. No matter how often they annoyed each other, or didn't agree with what the other did, they tried their hardest not to fight. For the longest time, Ed had believed they only had each other.

 

But now they had Isabel, too.

 

Secretly, Ed was indebted to Scar. He would never admit it to anyone but himself, even under pain of death. If Scar hadn't damaged Al's armor or destroyed Ed's arm, then they probably would have missed the chance to ever see Isabel again. It had been Al, after all, to remember her first. Ed had been about to dismiss her as a crazy drifter, despite the alarms going off that he knew her. When he had finally realized who she was, he had been terribly angry.

 

Ed allowed himself to indulge in the memory thoroughly for the remaining hours of the train ride.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

It was only a few hours after his arm and leg had been reinserted. He was still cringing from the pain it had caused him. He knew he would have to go outside and fix Al soon, but he was just hurting so badly. Would he ever get used to this pain? He hoped he wouldn't have enough time to. They would find the Philosopher's Stone and get their bodies back. That's why they had had to come back home, right? Just a minor side trip to ensure their ability to find it, that's all.

 

About an hour later, Ed had gone outside to repair Al's armor. His arm and leg still hurt, but things had to be done. This was one of those things that Ed would feel worse about if he didn't get around to it as soon as possible. Major Armstrong had laid out the remainder of Al's body and all of his parts. Just as Ed had finished the transmutation and Al was checking himself over, he looked up past his brother.

 

“Brother, that girl looks familiar,” Al said. He had been having troubles with his memories lately, but for some reason this person stood out to him.

 

She was running towards them, waving frantically. Her white jacket was blowing in the wind behind her. It should have hindered her, but she kept running. Ed looked at her strangely before dismissing her.

 

“She's probably just some lunatic, Al. Ignore her.” Ed turned back around and looked at the house. Something was nagging him, too.

 

“Brother, she's calling your name.” Al sounded a little uneasy.

 

Indeed, the girl was calling Edward's name. Ed turned around again and waited for her to reach them. When she did, she bent with her hands on her thighs and gasped for breath. When she had regained her wind, she looked up at Edward hopefully.

 

She was older. He could tell that much. But she didn't seem much taller than he was, if any. Finally someone he didn't have to look up at so he could yell. But she seemed so familiar. Her hair was a soft golden blond bound back in a ponytail. She looked fairly strong, for a girl. But her eyes were what captivated him. They were so familiar. They were…they were his eyes!

 

“Edward, I'm so glad to see you again!” she said breathlessly. When she reached out to touch his arm, he jumped back. Who was she?

 

“Who are you?” he repeated himself.

 

She looked momentarily stunned. “Edward, it's me, Isabel,” the strange girl said.

 

She couldn't have been much older than Ed. She looked maybe sixteen or seventeen. But how would he remember her? Who on earth was this girl?

 

“Brother…” Al murmured from behind him.

 

The girl blinked a little bit and nodded. With a sudden change in attitude and disposition, she said, “By the way, does the old woman who makes auto-mail still live here?”

 

Confused, Ed nodded. Was that a bad idea? “Yeah, she's in the house. Major, would you walk her there?” he requested. Mentally, he was telling the Major to be careful. It showed in his voice and eyes. Ed saw the caution that Armstrong walked with as he led the girl back to the house.

 

“Who was that, Brother?” Al asked when they were out of earshot.

 

“I don't know, Al. But for some reason, she seems so familiar.” Ed sighed.

 

They were silent a moment, but Al spoke up again. “Her eyes were the same as yours,” he murmured.

 

Ed growled. “It's probably just a coincidence. Do you really think I'm the only one with gold eyes?” he asked haughtily. “Maybe, but there's always a chance.” He clasped his hands behind his head in his usual arrogant pose. It would have fooled anyone, but he lacked his usual pride at the moment. That encounter had unnerved him a little.

 

“I feel like I know that girl.” Al sighed. “What about you, Brother?”

 

Again, Ed growled. “Yeah. But it's probably just some weird moment. We're both tired,” he excused. “Let's go inside and see if Auntie has some food ready.”

 

But when they went inside, a very unexpected sight greeted them. Auntie Pinako was serving stew, like she always did, but she seemed to be glowing. The girl, Isabel she'd called herself, was sitting at the table, smiling widely and chattering on like she knew Auntie.

 

“But they don't remember me,” she finished with a frown.

 

“Well,” Auntie began when Ed and Al came and sat, “those boys have a lot on their minds. Sometimes they just don't remember things.”

 

Ed spoke up first, being the brave one he normally was. “Auntie, what are you talking about?” Immediately, he felt the sudden pain of the soup ladle whacking the back of his head. He immediately rubbed the sore spot and scowled at the table. “Hey, what was that for?”

 

“Shame on you for not remembering you sister,” Auntie said condescendingly.

 

Al, Ed, and Winry even all looked from Isabel, to Auntie, and then back to Isabel. “W-What?”

 

Isabel poked at a potato in her stew. “It's all right. I did leave when we were all young, so it's probably natural you don't remember me,” she was saying quietly.

 

Auntie shook her head. “Nonsense! Shorty should remember you perfectly! You were always telling him what to do and picking on his height,” she said and served Ed and Al finally.

 

Ed glowered at Auntie Pinako. “Don't call me short,” he growled. “And she's not much taller than me.” When he looked up at Isabel, though, their eyes met. Suddenly things came flooding back.

 

He was seven again, and he and Al were planning to go to the riverbank and cause some sort of mischief. Isabel had been there, telling him not to and that he would get in trouble. He'd ignored her and he had gotten in very big trouble. Another time, they were all performing an alchemical experiment on a tree and some rocks to make a catapult. They had gotten their catapult, but it had also gotten Ed a good-sized bump on the back of his head from a rock.

 

Other memories came back to him. Where were they coming from? Why hadn't he ever thought of them in the past? How come he only remembered her now? There were plenty of times that he and Al had reminisced back to their younger days, just to keep things happy. There had been no memories between either of them about Isabel.

 

“So he remembers?” Auntie chuckled.

 

Oh, he remembered all right. The memory of Isabel leaving them was becoming fresh in his mind. She had left them when they had been six, seven, and eight. Where had Isabel gone? Why had she left? It had been a sudden thing. One day they were all planning to grow up together, and the next Isabel had left them to do her own thing. At age eight? How could someone decide something like that at such a young age? Something had to have happened to cause her to leave…

 

But she had left them without a backward glance or a second thought. Nine years later, she was back again. They hadn't seen neither hide nor hair of her, heard no word, and she came back expecting open arms?

 

“Sorry to disappoint,” he said aloud, standing.

 

“Brother.”

 

“But I'm not hungry.” Ed pushed the bowl back and ran outside. He didn't care if they knew he was upset. She had left them ruthlessly. She hadn't cared to write them later on and explain why.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Colonel Mustang drummed his fingers on his desk impatiently. It had been almost three days since he'd been granted permission extract Isabel from Dublith City's clutches. Why they'd even been keeping her a secret was beyond him. But now, she was sitting on the couch in the joint offices he shared with his subordinates. Havoc was leaning on his desk, smoking. Fury was doing some form of paperwork. The others were out, though.

It'd been only a couple hours since his return to Eastern Headquarters. No one had noticed Isabel walking beside him with her head down, afraid to look at anybody? It certainly seemed that way. No one had commented on her at all, much less taken notice of her. What was it with these people that strove to be invisible and succeeded so perfectly? Isabel surely was one, and was doing very well at not being seen.

 

Just as he was about to address her, First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye walked in with Black Hayate in tow. Maybe she would notice Isabel. That woman never missed anything. But she walked right passed Isabel and straight to Mustang's desk. She slapped down a folder with a little more force than needed, causing everyone in the room to look up, even Isabel.

 

“What were you doing in Dublith?” Hawkeye asked heatedly.

 

If she had the folder, then didn't she know? Isabel's dispatch from Dublith and arrival in East City should have been recorded. But Mustang sat up in his chair and looked at her evenly. “Rescuing someone in need,” he told her, gesturing to Isabel.

 

“Wha…?” Hawkeye, Fury, and Havoc followed his indication and finally saw Isabel.

 

“When did she get here?” Havoc asked, shocked. Fury just stared in confusion. Hawkeye seemed at a little bit of a loss, but still frustrated.

 

“She's been here for…five hours, and no one has noticed her?” Mustang said, bored. They shook their heads. “Well, this is Isabel Elric, Edward and Alphonse Elric's—”

 

“Sister?” Hawkeye finished for him. “I thought she had died?”

 

Isabel strove to become invisible once more. Mustang smiled inwardly at her shyness. She was such a contrast from Edward. She was even shyer than Alphonse, if that was possible. But the colonel spoke up, drawing the attention away from her momentarily. “Hawkeye, I went to Dublith alone to retrieve her. I came across some papers one day from Dublith City Psychiatric Ward—”

 

“Psychiatric Ward?” Fury and Havoc looked at Isabel, who shied away again, staring at her lap.

 

“—about her existence,” Mustang went on, nodding. “You all know that the Elric brothers have been out of commission for a while because of her abrupt, and supposed death. Well, after Major Armstrong…convinced me to look into it, I found it was true. I requested from the Fuhrer to have her released so we might have Full Metal back.”

 

“But what was she doing in a mental health facility?” Hawkeye asked.

 

Mustang cleared his throat and looked at Isabel. “That is yet to be determined,” he said gruffly. Isabel's cheeks colored when the gazes were once more placed on her. “She has refused to talk since she had been at the ward. It seems old habits die hard.”

 

Hawkeye nodded. “Well, the Elric brothers probably won't get here for another few hours. Do you expect her to just sit in here while you work?” she asked, enunciating the word since they all knew Mustang procrastinated for as long as possible, and then complained when he was actually working.

 

“She doesn't seem to mind at the moment.” He looked at Isabel, who was avoiding everyone's gazes.

 

Hawkeye suddenly straightened and saluted. “Requesting permission to look after Isabel Elric until her brothers arrive, sir!” she said mechanically. She looked passed Mustang, as she would have if he'd been anything else but his friend.

 

Mustang thought it over a moment. He continued watching Isabel. She was pretending not to notice his stare. Finally, he spoke up. “If she doesn't mind, permission granted,” he consented.

 

“Sir.” Hawkeye nodded and walked over to Isabel. She sat down next to the girl and smiled. “So, are you going to sit here all day until your brothers arrive, or do you want to do something fun?” she asked.

 

Isabel was a little wary at first. She knew First Lieutenant Hawkeye. Isabel hadn't been completely lying low in her past. She had done a few things aiding the military, but had never resigned herself to being one of them. Even though she would have had access to the First Branch Library and all of those books, she still wouldn't lose what few privileges she had as a civilian.

 

After a little more hesitation, Isabel nodded but said nothing. Hawkeye looked puzzled for a moment before realizing what Isabel meant. She stood up and looked at Mustang.

 

“Dismissed,” he said easily.

 

Hawkeye saluted swiftly then headed towards the door. Isabel took a moment longer before following. Hawkeye had been waiting for her outside the door.

 

Mustang smiled ruefully to himself. That girl had probably been filled with as much spirit as Ed. Being in that psychiatric ward had broken her, though. There were traces of her past in her eyes; the fire she'd once possessed had been reduced to embers. Who would do such a thing to a girl like her?

 

He remembered her from the civilian jobs she had taken at young ages. She had been a little shy then, but probably because there hadn't been many women around. When he'd seen her interrupted from her work, she'd been fierce and, quite frankly, someone even he would think twice about bothering. Some of the people she'd chewed out were still walking around with blisters on their ears. If that girl had been anything, it had been far from innocent.

 

Besides those few glowing embers were memories of the wars she'd witnessed and the battles she'd fought. He couldn't say if she had ever killed someone. She didn't seem to have the temperament of someone who had taken another life. If she had, she had gotten over it well. But she was what, only seventeen? She hadn't had a chance at a normal life, working with the military and whatnot. And now this? He shook his head. Maybe things would settle down for her, and she would regain her spirit. Mustang hated to see such fire wasted and thrown away.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“So, is there any reason why you don't speak anymore?” Hawkeye asked Isabel. They were in the lounge, both sipping coffee. While Riza was still on her first cup, Isabel had indulged in three already. The girl must have been put on a caffeine hiatus in the psych ward. Her hands were beginning to shake from the “oomph” the coffee possessed.

 

But Isabel shrugged in response and sipped her coffee more slowly. If there was a valid reason, it was really beyond her to comprehend. She just hadn't wanted to tell the people in the ward anything. It had become something of a habit to say nothing now.

 

“Well, your brothers might be a little disappointed if you aren't able to tell them anything,” the first lieutenant threw out.

 

Isabel shrugged again. She did have every intention of speaking again, eventually. She just didn't know if she could handle it now. She barely remembered the sound of her own voice. When she'd spoken to Colonel Mustang a few days earlier, it had been out of desperation. Even then, she'd wondered why she had said anything afterwards. Well, the woman before her seemed intent on helping her speak again at least.

 

“I'm sure there's some reason why you stopped,” Hawkeye pressed on.

 

Isabel nodded. Yeah, she told herself. They didn't need to know what I thought about. Why give them the advantage?

 

“What are you thinking?”

 

She set the cup on the counter beside her and leaned forward. An intent look came into her eyes as she looked at Hawkeye. She continued staring at the woman across from her for a few minutes until she felt she'd gotten her point across.

 

“I see.”

 

Do you?

 

“Well, you don't have to worry anymore. The people here are a little rough, but we're all okay enough. No one is going to take you back to Dublith unless you want to go, which I doubt that you would.”

 

Isabel shook her head and resumed her coffee. That wasn't exactly what she'd been trying to get Hawkeye to understand, but okay. That was enough. She'd been trying to get across that she didn't feel a need to talk at the moment. She had gotten by well enough by just her facial expressions. The only time she had ever bothered the guards outside the doors was if she had to use the bathroom. That's about it. She would occupy herself with thoughts, normally on getting out of the ward.

 

“Are you an alchemist, too?” Hawkeye asked, moving on to a lighter subject.

 

The girl smiled a little and nodded. She set her cup down again and showed the first lieutenant her wrists.

 

“Do you specialize in a certain area, or you do what's needed?” the older woman asked, inspecting the tattoos.

 

It wouldn't hurt for her to try to speak, would it? Besides, Riza Hawkeye was a caring, gentle woman. Isabel could trust her. “Both,” she said quietly. Hawkeye sat stunned for a moment, then smiled. “But I like making things from blocks of stuff.”

 

“Art, then?” Hawkeye specified.

 

Isabel shrugged. If she wanted to call it that, yeah, art was what she liked creating. She could take a lump of clay, heat it, and then make a vase or a pitcher from it. If she had a block of wood, then she'd make a little figurine. In fact, she knew how she could show Riza her abilities now. She moved the mug to the center of the table between them and then put her hands around it. A blue light emanated from it for a moment. When it disappeared, the coffee was frozen and in a small sculpture of an egg, held up by a thin shard.

 

“That's very good,” Hawkeye chuckled. “Can you undo it?”

 

“Yeah.” Isabel touched the glass again and her coffee returned to the steaming drink it had been before. “Voila.” She smiled timidly at her feet.

 

“Hey, I have an idea.” Hawkeye stood up and looked Isabel over. “How would you like to go shopping?” she asked.

 

Shopping. Wow, it'd been a long time since Isabel had done that. With a little bit of thought, she nodded. She wanted to say something, but couldn't find the right words or the energy to. So she smiled at the first lieutenant. She knew her smiles were nothing to brag about. She hadn't had a reason to smile in such a long time they were probably pitiful looking. She could feel the sadness in her eyes rushing out to stare everyone in the face. When had she become in such a shape?

 

“I'll go ask the colonel,” Hawkeye said. “I'll be right back.”

 

Isabel nodded again and sat back against the chair. She kept half an ear open for any intruders she didn't want, but otherwise let her mind clear out. There was no use in going shopping when she felt down, right? There were footsteps approaching, probably two or three people. It took a few seconds for their voices to become distinguishable, but when they finally came within earshot, she frowned at her topic of conversation.

 

“Havoc said that she came from the Dublith City Psychiatric Ward,” one person was saying.

 

Another one said, “And she's supposed to be an Elric, too. Do you think she's an alchemist?”

 

Great, they were coming into the lounge. Just what she needed, an audience for her silent act. Why, God? All she wanted to do was to sit quietly and unbothered until Hawkeye came back with one word or another about their trip into town. Even if the colonel had denied them, it was still something that would have made her feel better, so why fight it? The officers were about five steps away. Any moment they would be entering.

 

“I heard she's mute—”

 

Their chatter abruptly stopped when they saw her sitting diffidently in one of the chairs. They all looked just as surprised as Isabel felt. Despite that she knew they had been coming, she still felt the sudden shock of other people around her. She had been in “solitary confinement” at the psych ward, so her main contacts were the guards and her psychiatrist.

 

They all remained where they were, unmoving and unspeaking. They just stared at each other, afraid to say something. The officers probably feared Isabel turning them into some alchemical experiment. She just didn't want to talk. It was a standoff, a moot point.

 

“Great news, Isabel. Colonel Mustang said we—” Hawkeye tried to enter the lounge, but the three officers were still too dumbstruck to move or say anything.

Isabel stood up from her seat, smoothed her pants down, and then walked out of the room. She stood next to Hawkeye and nodded, knowing what the woman had been going to say.

 

When the two women were out of earshot, the officers looked at each other, their eyes wide. “She was an exact look-alike of Full Metal,” one of them said.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ed stepped off of the train and stretched. Those last three hours had been the most exhausting part of the trip. But apparently he'd fallen asleep while thinking of the last time he'd seen Isabel, because the next thing he knew, Winry was shaking him violently and threatening to take his arm off. He'd woken up and stopped her in time before she finished her threat; he knew what was coming, and it wasn't a new piece of auto-mail, either. It was a four-letter word starting with a `p.'

 

Al stepped off behind him and looked around. Winry jumped off and followed Al's example. The sun was just setting, but it was hard to tell from inside the station. Finally, Major Armstrong shuffled out of the train and stood with them. It never ceased to amaze Ed just how tall the man was in comparison with himself. And it never ceased to make Ed feel even shorter when they were within five feet of each other.

 

“So, do you want to head straight to Headquarters or make a few stops first?” Winry asked. Ed could already see the mechanically centered thoughts floating around in her head.

 

“Headquarters,” he said curtly and started in the direction of the building.

 

East City hadn't changed any. It was still the gray, busy place it had been six months ago; the clouds still a heavy canopy, occasionally breaking for a bit of sunshine. People still milled around frantically, hurrying to their destination in the face-paced world, civilians and soldiers alike. If this place was anything at all, it was consistent.

 

The Major hailed a cab, but Ed kept walking in the direction of the headquarters' building. Walking would probably be quicker if traffic was bad. The other three looked at him strangely before Winry sighed loudly. She was the first to follow after him.

 

“Ed, are you all right?” she asked when she was walking beside him.

 

He didn't look at her. “Yeah,” he said quietly. Really, he was nervous as anything. He was unsure of himself to the point of questioning what he was even doing in East City. There were so many questions rushing through his mind and he didn't know how to answer them. Scenarios from the past assaulted his memory; he could barely think straight.

 

“You don't look like you're okay,” Winry went on.

 

With a bit of a sigh, Ed shook his head. “Just a little confused, I guess,” he confessed. They stopped at a crossover. He turned to look at Winry and his inner turmoil showed in his eyes.

 

Winry smiled encouragingly at him. Ed attempted a smile, but it came as more of a grimace than anything. “Things will be okay, Ed, you'll see.”

 

He nodded and put on a brave expression. “Al,” he called with renewed arrogance.

 

“Yes, Brother?” Al stood beside Ed.

 

“How do you feel?” the elder brother asked.

 

Al nodded. “I'm excited. I've missed Isabel.”

 

Winry smiled. Both brothers had been upset for quite a while after Isabel had left, mourning in their own way. Al had been thoughtful for few weeks, but Ed…. Ed had taken the worst of it, even though he'd tried to hide it. He'd been distant and forlorn, past the line of depression. For appearances sake, he'd roughhoused and trained with Al often. Winry knew it had been to try to forget his pain for a while. She didn't think he'd be able to handle if it this was a goose chase and Mustang had been wrong.

 

When the headquarters building came into sight, Ed broke into a run. He ignored the oncoming traffic as he raced across the street and onto headquarters' property. When the rest of the group caught up with him, he was staring up at the building, gasping for breath quietly.

 

“Brother?” Al said quietly.

 

“Let's go,” Ed murmured and headed towards the entrance.