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The men pulled, and something came free- with a splash and a clank, something metal fell out of the end of the pipe and landed in the drainage ditch at their feet.
It was about three feet long, and made of metal.
“What the fuck is that?” one of the men on the line asked, voice hushed.
One of them picked it up- it was an arm, an automail arm- not attached to anything, only the rope still firmly tied around the wrist.
Roy felt nausea bubble up in him like regret, and turned to the nearest soldier.
“Get me a damn light- I’m going in after him!”
Something was terribly wrong.
Edward Elric tries to avoid giving his report and do a good deed. Roy Mustang tries to avoid pondering his role in Edward's life. Both fail miserably. And it's all because of the damn rain.
A slow burn of excitement, angst, drama, trauma, hurt/comfort, and found family. Maybe in that order.
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