A FMA Fanfic

By Jaelle

Disclaimer: None of them are mine. Not even the short one.


Rating: PG-13 (for violence and some swearing)

Pairings: Not really. If you squint to one side you could call it implied Roy/Ed, but only if you already liked them

Setting: East City, a random couple of weeks inserted mid-series (after the introduction of Scar, but before the major stuff hits the fan)

Drama, action, and some humour thrown in for good luck.

He had to give these guys credit, Roy Mustang thought. When they decided to kidnap someone, they didn't muck around. Their plan had been perfectly thought out and precisely executed. Veritable poetry in motion.

Now if only they hadn't been after him.

He shifted awkwardly in the chair, trying to find a position which didn't hurt. His fingers were throbbing painfully and sending occasional spikes of pain through him, but he resolutely refused to look at them.

Idly he wondered if Hawkeye was still alive. I have the best excuse ever for getting out of paperwork, and I'm not sure if she'll get to hear it.

It had been a lovely morning. Havoc had been driving him to a meeting with the West HQ brass, and Hawkeye had been riding along and briefing him at the same time. Everything had been normal, even the blasted cart upset in the middle of the road again.

"Road's blocked, looks like they'll be awhile cleaning up the mess," Havoc had called back. "Hang on, I'll just take us round by the docks."

A sensible move which, unfortunately, had turned out to be a complete disaster.

"I don't believe this!" Havoc had moaned. "TWO overturned carts in the same day? I'm afraid you're going to be late Colonel."

Roy had frowned, but accepted it. Then there had been a crash from behind them. The whole car went silent as they assessed their position.

"Three carts?" Hawkeye had said, with a raised eyebrow. "That's too many."

"Be careful," Roy had told them, pulling on his gloves. "Keep an eye out for snipers."

Hawkeye and Havoc had carefully gotten out of the car, Roy a step behind, fingers at the ready.

"I don't see anyth..." Havoc's voice had been chopped off by a gunshot.


Hawkeye had immediately drawn a bead on the sniper and shot him, but had been ambushed by a group of men. Roy had instantly snapped his fingers and flames blasted the group, just barely avoiding Hawkeye. Unfortunately, he'd been so focused on not burning her, he hadn't spotted his own peril. He'd jerked in pain as a bullet passed through his right thigh, fortunately not hitting the bone, and had been turning to face his new opponents when someone had slammed a pole into the side of his head, sending him spiraling into unconciousness.

He'd awoken some hours later, gloves removed, bound to a chair in an abandoned building. His head had been splitting, and his leg had ached fiercely from where the bullet had passed through. It appeared his captors had done a cursory job of bandaging him up, so he hadn't lost too much blood, but the combination of factors had combined to made him light-headed, and he was having difficulty focusing his eyes properly.

And then his captors had decided to make absolutely sure that he couldn't use his Alchemy against them.

Unwillingly, his gaze went down to his broken, swollen fingers. It had been a long time since he'd screamed in pure physical agony, but having each and every one of his digits brutally broken had done the trick. He'd actually passed out from the pain at one point, when the man working on the right hand got bored with doing one finger at a time and smashed two with a metal bar, but they had courteously waited for him to come around again before continuing.

He attempted to wiggle one of his fingers and whimpered at the immediate pain. It was going to be a while before he could hold a piece of chalk again with which to draw an array, much less snap his fingers to conjure flame.

"This is just the beginning," the left-hand man had told him as they left. "You murdering piece of scum."

Roy closed his eyes again and swallowed hard to control his nausea. When would Ishvar stop haunting him?

He didn't know either of the men personally, but their colouring had given them away. Ishvar refugees, probably ex-soldiers, and looking for revenge for the massacre against the Alchemists who had fought there. Probably inspired by Scar's example, he thought. Word had leaked into the public sector about his activities a few weeks ago; someone in the security department hadn't kept their mouth shut. Since then there had been a small groundswell of support for the man. He'd become a folkhero to a lot of disenfranchised Ishvarians, and his mark had started popping up as grafitti on walls.

He wondered if this lot were targeting anyone with a silver watch, or were going after State Alchemists who'd actually FOUGHT in Ishvar. It would certainly explain why they'd gone to so much trouble to capture him if that was the case. That would put them one up on Scar, who seemed to just go after the most opportune target, regardless of whether or not the person had fought in Ishvar or not. Half of his kills so far had been people who'd joined up AFTER the war was over, and Roy felt the responsibility for their deaths hanging over him sometimes. At least this lot had the right idea and were going after the REAL bastards, instead of people like Fullmetal, who would only have been about six at the time of the massacre.

Roy felt very old and tired. And hurt. He wondered what they planned next. Toes perhaps? Teeth? Will anyone even recognise me when they finish? I hope Havoc and Hawkeye made it out alright. I trust THEM to identify my body.

There was a rustle of movement and a thud from behind him. He knew there was a guard there. Perhaps he was bored and had decided to get on with the torture. Roy remained still, with his eyes closed and head down. They might hold off if they thought he was still out.

A whispered voice hissed in his ear. "Colonel? Colonel? Hey, Colonel!"

He felt the bonds around his upper body loosen and fall away. "Come on Colonel, say something. You can't possibly be dead yet, you useless smirky bastard."

His eyes opened sluggishly. "Fullmetal?" He managed.

The voice turned approving. "There we go. Let's see now..." There was some quiet movement and a slightly dusty Edward Elric came round to face him. The smaller Alchemist paled when he saw Roy's fingers and reached out to them.

Roy couldn't help flinching, "Don't..."

"Well.” Ed swallowed, pulling his hand away before contact. “That looks pretty painful.” He looked away briefly, then turned back and used the transmuted blade on his automail arm to cut through the remaining ropes binding Roy's arms and legs to the chair. "But fixable I think. You won't be signing any bits of paper for a while though. Lieutenant Hawkeye will be devastated."


Ed glanced around, "She's okay. Havoc's in surgery, but they say he should recover. Now come on, we have to get out of here. Stand up."

Roy mentally catalogued his injuries and tried to force his eyes to focus again. "I... don't think I can..." he said finally. "Can't think properly... blood loss..."

"Well you're going to have to!" Ed hissed impatiently. "I can't carry you, you're too big."


"Don't call me short! I just crawled through about five miles of ventilation shaft for you, the least you could do is be polite." Ed lowered his voice and paused, listening. "Okay, I think we're still clear. Look Colonel; Al, Major Armstrong, Hughes, Hawkeye and most of East HQ are outside waiting to storm the place, but there's eight of these bastards still in here and they're armed to the teeth. The first thing they'll do when we attack is try to finish you off, so I have to get you somewhere safe BEFORE the rescue force can come in."

"How did you find me?" Roy asked.

"I'll tell you later. It's actually quite a funny story, especially the part in the fish market. In the meantime, if you’ll just stand up, I'll make us a door and we can move to another section of the building. Then I'll signal the others to come in." He yanked on Roy's arm impatiently. "Come on, up you get. You've still got legs, haven't you?"

Roy bit back a curse at the pain caused by Ed's rough treatment and slowly got to his feet, using his elbows for leverage, and holding his hands out carefully in front of him. He took a step and stumbled... No, if I fall... hands... can't catch myself!

A small body interposed itself between him and the floor, and Ed grunted as he caught the weight of his Colonel. He braced himself against the floor and gradually managed to push Roy into something resembling an upright position. Roy wavered and grabbed for Ed, collapsing most of his weight onto him.

"Okay, you can lean on me then," Ed said quietly. "Just head for that wall over there."

Slowly they staggered towards it, wincing at every step - Roy from the pain, Ed at the noise they were making. They were only crossing a relatively small room, but it felt endless.

In his confused state, Roy found himself trying to imagine what they must look like as the ground tried to weave away beneath him.

The height disparity meant that he was partially bent over, half-sprawled across Fullmetal's shoulders, his forearms held carefully out in front of Ed's face to prevent his fingers from coming into contact with anything. Ed had put his arms around Roy's waist in an attempt to keep him upright, and was half-dragging him as they walked. Unfortunately he was also clearly having difficulty balancing Roy's additional weight and was being pushed in a peculiar kind of diagonal shuffle step. It suddenly occurred to Roy that they must look like two drunken sailors, and he giggled.

"Glad to see you've still got your sense of humour," Ed grumbled. "Hey, stop resting on my head!"

"Sorry..." Roy gasped. "Nearly there..."

Ed grunted, "Just... don't fall over." He carefully released his tight hold on Roy, quickly and quietly clapped his hands together and pressed them against the wall. A small door appeared, which he opened, and the two men staggered through it.

Roy stumbled and went to one knee with a painful jolt.

Ed bit back a curse. "Hang on a second."

Another clap and the door was a wall once more. Then Ed was yanking at Roy again. "Get up Colonel. That won't hold them long enough. Come on, get your high-ranking rear into gear!"

Chivying and half-dragging Roy, Ed managed to get them through another two sets of rooms before stopping when Roy’s leg gave out on him completely. "Guess this'll have to do," he grumbled. "Hang on, I'll seal us in and send a signal."

Roy collapsed wearily on the ground as Ed used his power to seal the doors. "Let's just hope they don't have any explosives," he said, looking at them doubtfully. "Okay, I'm gonna call the others now."

Another burst of Alchemic power produced a small speaker-tube, into which Ed coughed. "Hey. Can you hear me?"


"Al! We're in the room three down from where the Colonel was being held. I can't move him any further by myself, so this will have to do."

"Ed, it's Hughes. What's the Colonel's condition?"

Ed glanced at Roy. "He's ummm... he's not so good. Nothing life-threatening I think. He's been shot through the thigh and lost a fair amount of blood, and he's got a really ugly bump on his head which is giving him a few problems. And uh... they broke all his fingers."

There was a long silence.

"Right. We're coming in now. Stay where you are until we get there."

"Understood." Ed headed over to Roy. "How's your leg?" He took off his coat and covered Roy with it, then moved down to check the bandage. "Hmph, you're bleeding again."

"Oh dear, I'm TERRIBLY sorry," Roy said snarkily. "Please DO excuse me."

Ed grinned. "If you're back to using sarcasm you can't be that badly injured."

Roy laughed weakly, and then wished he hadn't. "Please, don't make me laugh. Head hurts."

There was a loud explosion and the ground shook. Roy gritted his teeth as small bits of the ceiling showered down upon the pair.

Ed glanced upwards nervously. "Let's hope they don't bring the building down on us."

Roy just closed his eyes. There was another massive explosion, and more plaster rained down, but this time Roy felt very little land on him. He opened his eyes and was surprised to find Ed crouching over him, trying to shield him with his body.

"What?" Ed said defensively.

Roy just smiled, "Nothing."

"How's your head?"

"Clearing a little. Lying down is helping."

They both tensed at the sound of gunfire.

"Damn," Ed bit his lip. "Hurry up you guys."

"You'd better move into a position where you can fight," Roy said. "In case they find us."

"What about you?"

"What can I do? Bite their ankles?" He pointed out. "I don't have any weapons, and I couldn't use them even if I did. It's better if you be prepared for an attack, instead of wasting time and energy protecting me from minor discomfort."

"You don't get to lie there doing nothing while I do all the work," Ed said in an annoyed tone. "An Alchemist adapts to his situation. YOU taught me that." He started fiddling with the bandage on Roy’s leg again.

"Glad you've learned SOMETHING from me," Roy grumbled. "What ARE you doing?"

"Drawing an array," Ed replied. "Obviously."

"With my blood?" Roy objected, as Ed carefully 'inked' his finger using Roy's wound.

"I don't have any chalk on me," Ed admitted. "And we use the materials available, right? Don't worry, it's not the first time I've used blood, it'll work fine. And... there we go." He finished and reached for Roy's right hand. "Carefully now..."

He lifted it gently and Roy bit his lip to keep from crying out as Ed placed it gently on the array.

"There," he said with satisfaction. "You know, just in case.” He averted his eyes from Roy’s body and tried to regain his normal attitude. “You DO know how to use it with only one hand, right?"

Roy managed to find the strength to glare at Ed, who turned back in time to catch it, and grinned back at him.

There were more gunshots and the sounds of angry shouting.

"I think they've noticed you're gone," Ed said, standing and transforming his arm back into a blade.

Roy smiled wearily, "It's a burden being so popular sometimes."

Ed rolled his eyes, "I wonder if even an explosion would dent your ego."

There was a loud slamming sound and the door shuddered.

"Damn," Ed drew back his arm and prepared to attack. "Get ready."

Roy had no time to respond before the door was struck again, this time with more force. Ed snuck over to the door and listened carefully for a second, then dived quickly to the ground as a round of bullets were fired through the door at the halfway mark.

"We're coming for you murderer!" A voice yelled, and a foot kicked through the door at the weakened point. Ed surged to his feet and sliced at the leg as it withdrew, drawing blood and a scream of pain from his opponent.

“Shit. HEY! I COULD USE SOME HELP HERE!” He yelled as loudly as he could. “AL! HUGHES!”

“Get him! Kill the murderer!” Another voice howled.

“AL!” Ed roared, just as a gun fired through the door again, this time strafing downwards and barely missing Roy.

“Hey, no picking on the wounded old guy!”


Ed grinned and attacked, stabbing repeatedly through the door. He heard a clink as his blade encountered another, and then ducked as someone tried to pick him off through the almost-broken-open door. Lunging forward he stabbed through the wall this time. His blade came back with blood on it.

“I think most of them are out there now. ALLLLLLL!!! HUGHES! I’m gonna regret this one... MAJOR ARMSTRONG!!!”

Distantly, they could hear a faint, “Nii-san!”

Ed took cover again as more bullets were fired. “That door’s not gonna hold much longer. If they get in, it’s all over.” He glanced over at Roy. “Can you take them out?”

Roy stared at him as Ed drew back his arm, and slashed it down across his own body, clanging the blade off his automail leg. Sparks flew from the contact and Roy’s eyes widened. His broken fingers twitched over the array and it glowed darkly.

Flames erupted in a line from Ed to the door, and then blasted out into the corridor. Roy twitched again at the screams and his power faded instantly. Ed threw himself through the remains of the door and attacked anyone still moving, doing his best not to permanently injure them.



The cavalry arrived in the form of Al and Major Armstrong, who quickly and easily subdued the few remaining enemies. Ed took a breather while they worked, retreating back into the room where Roy lay.

“So you finally did something useful,” he mocked. “It’s about time you lent a hand, instead of getting ME to do all the work!”

Roy just smirked at him, “Fullmetal, right now, between the two of us, I think one working hand is about all we can manage!”

Ed groaned.


Epilogue (Three Days Later)

There was a brief knock at the door, which then swung inward as Ed poked his head around it. "Hello?"

Roy, comfortably propped up in the hospital bed, gave him a heavily bandaged wave. "Enter," he said cheerfully.

"You're looking better," Ed observed, as he pushed the door open fully and walked in, Alphonse a step behind him.

"We brought you some fruit," Al said, holding up a basket.

"That's very kind of you," Roy said. "Please put it on the table."

Ed and Al stared at the massive pile of fruit, flowers, chocolates and get well cards that covered the table.

"Where?" Ed demanded. "I think if we put one more item on this pile it will collapse."

"Umm... I'll just put it underneath the table," Al said. "That should be alright."

Ed was nosily browsing some of the cards and noting who they were from. "Angelina, Ruth, Elizabeth, Hannah... Colonel..."

Roy smiled at him sweetly, "Jealous?"

"Huh," Ed wandered over to Roy and looked him over narrowly. "And how is the quality of nursing here, Colonel?"

Roy just smirked.

"That's what I thought," Ed shook his head. "Sheesh, even when you lose, you win."

"I'm just so happy that all of these people wish to see me," Roy said with mock-humility. "It's an indication of my worth as a leader."

Ed muttered something rude. "Anyway, we just came by quickly to see how you were doing."

Roy shrugged. "On the mend. My fingers will probably take the longest to heal, but I should be snapping them again in a few weeks."

"And if not, you could always have them replaced with flint-tipped automail ones," Ed remarked snidely. "You could be the Partialmetal Alchemist."

Roy made a face. "Don't give me nightmares. Anyway, shouldn't you be leaving for your next mission? I distinctly recall issuing your orders the other day."

"Yes sir, we're heading off on Mission Wild Goose Chase right away," Ed grouched. "Enjoy your bed rest and nurses while we’re gone."

"Oh, I will," Roy assured him.

"Are you teasing the poor sick Colonel?" Hughes entered the room, carrying a large pile of books. "Shame on you boys!"

"Yes, shame on you," Roy echoed happily. Ed however, was too busy staring at Hughes' burden.

"Um... Major Hughes," he started, a small smile growing on his face, "Might those be photograph albums?"

"Why yes Edward!" Hughes grinned. "I thought that, since the Colonel was laid up in bed with nothing to do, I would keep him company. And what better to while away the hours than going through the photos of my darling daughter, Alicia!"

Roy went very pale as an evil grin spread across Ed's face.

"That's... very kind of you, Hughes." Roy said, "But as you can see, Ed and Al are here to keep me company..."

"But we're JUST leaving," Ed said hurriedly. "We have an important mission to head out on, isn't that right Al?"

Al nodded and apologised to Hughes for having to leave so suddenly.

While he did so, Roy hissed at Ed, "Draw me another transmutation array!"

"Oh? But I still don't have any chalk on me... and I couldn't possibly open your wound and use your blood again," Ed said maliciously. "That would be assaulting my commanding officer. Now you just lie back and rest, and we'll see you in a few weeks. Possibly months."


"BYE Colonel!" Ed zipped past Hughes and grabbed Al. "Get well soon!"


"Okay, let's start with volume one!"


Cackling evilly, Ed dragged his brother away and off on their next mission.



Jaelle: *explaining fic to long-suffering husband* And I thought, if they broke all his fingers, he wouldn't be able to snap his fingers and use his fire powers!
Guy: You don't need to break all of them.
Jaelle: ... Huh?
Guy: You just need to do the thumb and middle finger.
Jaelle: ...
Guy: Actually, you really only need to do the thumb, mechanically speaking.
Jaelle: ... That's not the point!
Guy: I'm just saying.
Jaelle: I don't care! I'm still breaking all of them!
Guy: Okay, but you don't need to.
Jaelle: But it sounds BETTER if they're ALL broken.
Guy: Yes dear.
Hanse (inside Jaelle's head): Also, he could probably get a spark from the gunfire, he doesn't need Ed to create it.
Jaelle: You shut up too!
Hanse: Yes dear.

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