Chapter Text
The snow continued on in every direction. For as far as the eye could see. For miles and miles. And Edward and Alphonse were trapped in the middle of it. Paths were nonexistent. Snow had swallowed them whole if they’d ever even existed. The map was tucked safely inside Al’s hull to keep it safe from the wind’s clutches. But even it could only provide so much clarity. Lost out in the peril of frost and pain, and automail failure, Edward cursed her.
He’d never say it aloud; Alphonse’s emotions were already so fragile. But inside his head, he cursed her.
How could she do this to them? How could she stay in contact with the man who offered them up on a silver platter? How could she look and act so much like mom–wounded by strong and so damn protective?
“Brother? Edward!” Alphonse shouting rattled Edward’s head.
“Wha’? Wha’s your problem?” Edward slurred, wiping his nose on the back of his glove. If Al had a body he’d grimace.
“You were getting all sluggish, and you stopped speaking!” Alphonse snapped, nerves pulled tight like a wire fit to snap. “Maybe we should go back brother…”
“No!” Edward practically shrieked. Juvenile and raw. Spoken too quickly, and immediately drew in shame. “We can’t go back Al. She’s on his side.” Scowling, Edward forced his sore legs to keep on trudging. It hurt. Badly. And his automail had practically seized entirely. His leg was really only being lifted by the sheer strength of his upper-most thigh. The metal had grown stiff, gears locking shut, nerve connection going offline, the skin hypothermic.
“You won’t last much longer like this. Please, think about what the book said–”
“No, Al! No. We’re not going back.” panting and out of breath from his words alone. It was hard to catch his breath with the wind swallowing it up. Edward was so cold.
“Brother, let me carry you.” Edward wanted to decline. Wanted to deny his brother, but then his automail stopped completely. A hoarse cry shot out of Edward, who quickly crumpled into the hungry snow. “Brother!” Alphonse cried. Forcing snow from his own hollow legs, he bent down. Scooping Edward close to his empty chest. “Maybe you should ride inside…” Al suggested.
Edward shook his head meekly against his brother’s breastplate. “Too heavy. With all the snow.” Edward mumbled through the pain. His mouth tasted like blood. He must’ve bit something on the way down. Alphonse sighed, and kept walking. Ed was right. So much snow was already slipping between the armor plates. He was already too heavy to walk on top of the snow. Sinking down the lowest layer that could support his weight.
Edward drifted in and out shortly after. All of Al’s attempts to keep his brother awake and warm were for naught. Edward was slipping away quickly. Quicker than Al could push through the snow. Just as Ed’s lips were turning purple and his sleepy murmurings were ceasing, Alphonse caught sight of it.
The town.
Alphonse was so relieved he almost swore he could feel heat curling across his chest. Like a heartbeat. Alphonse ran, as best he could with Ed in his arms and ice in his legs. It was some small elderly lady that saw him first. She dropped her basket of fish, scattering them on the ground. She looked horrified, grabbing him by a gauntlet and dragging him through town.
“I see. It was the automail that did it.” The elderly woman’s voice was hardened, but kind. “Boy, strip out that armor unless you want a fate worse than your brothers.” She ordered. Alphonse sputtered, unsure of how to dissuade her.
“I… I’m an alchemist, I already warmed myself up! I can’t take this armor off or else I’ll get into trouble.” the elderly woman made a swipe for him, and he stumbled back.
“Ain't no fate worse than death, boy!” She snapped. Alphonse wanted to comply. Wanted to bundle into warm clothes, sit by the fire, drink warm broth and feel cared for.
“I can’t. I’m sorry.” It must’ve been something in the way he’d said it, but the woman backed off. She muttered crossly under her breath, but there was a look of sympathy in her eyes.
“What’s your names?” She asked, stirring her soup over the fire. If Al closed his eyes, he could pretend it was still Riza. She hadn’t been the best cook, so said Ed. But She’d been getting better and better, and nothing warmed the stomach like a home cooked meal shared together. So said Mom.
“I’m Alphonse. That’s my older brother, Edward.”
“I’m Sherry. Pleased to meet you.” She flashed him a wry grin. Sherry sounded like a youthful name, but Al figured everyone was young once. “C’mere, boy.” Sherry beckoned. Al wondered why she’d asked his name if she’d keep calling him that. “Here, keep stirring the pot. I’m going to replace your brother’s compresses.”
–––
“Al, help me up.” Edward croaked from the corner. Ed and Al were stashed away in a small spare bedroom the old woman had. Her house was quaint, the room nothing more than storage.
“No, brother.” Alphonse hushed back, forcing his hand to push Ed’s chest back down. Edward made a sound a little too similar to a snarl. Al whipped his head back to stare at his brother. Edward squirmed, weakly prying at Al’s hand.
“Don’t pin me.” He said through gritted teeth. Alphonse jerked his hand away, guilty. “We have to go, Al. Help me up.” Edward asserted again. Alphonse turned his back to his brother and ignored his demand. Since Ed had woken up, and become only minorly more lucid, he’d been begging and ordering to leave. “She’s coming. You know she’s coming.” Edward panted.
“She’s not going to find us, Ed. You’re too hurt to go anywhere.”
“I’m not!” Edward yelled, “I’m, I’m not. Really.” He tried to sound calm, composed. Ed was neither. Any of the time.
“Go back to sleep, brother.”
A long beat passed, only the wind screaming against the windows could be heard.
“I can’t.” Edward admitted, voice sounding wet. Alphonse shifted to face his brother again. He gently took Ed’s flesh hand–automail parts stripped away, again– and squeezed.
“It’s okay, Edward. I’ll stand guard.”
“Even against that old bat?” Edward asked, sniffing. Alphonse sighed, she really was a kind woman when Ed wasn’t fighting her at every turn.
“Yes. Even against Sherry.”
Edward puffed out his chest. “Good. I don’t like that old lady.”
Alphonse sighed again, this time fonder. “Oh, Ed…”
––––
Door after door slammed open, nearly flying off the hinges. Yelps and cries, outraged husbands, nervous wives. “I’m looking for my sons.” Riza demanded, “Did you see two boys come through here? One in armor and one with automail and long blonde hair?” Her questions felt less like a scared mother and more like a bloodthirsty interrogator.
“I-I saw ‘em! Yeah! It was that old lady, Sherry. Probably took ‘em in cause the little one looks like her grandkid.”
Her eyes bore into him, practically shining like an animal’s in the moonlight, “ Where ?”
––––
“Ed, Ed get up.” Alphonse was shaking Edward harshly. Edward roused, disoriented.
“Why’s it so dark ‘n here?” Alphonse ignored his question. He didn’t have time to recount the last month to Ed. He lifted Ed up, letting the warm compresses fall off of his brother.
“Who the hell is after ya’ two?!” Sherry demanded, shotgun in hand. Al ignored her question too. He grabbed Ed’s prosthetics, getting ready to reconnect them. Even if it was premature. “Answer me, boy!”
BANG, BANG, BANG.
Sherry and Al fell silent. Only Edward spoke. Neck limp and eyes roving. “Who's here?” He whispered. Al looked between Ed and Sherry.
“Get that brat connected to those pieces of shit.” Alphonse stared at the door like a death sentence, “Now!” She yelled, knocking him back to his senses. Al scrambled to do so as Sherry slammed the door to the spare room shut. He could hear her lumber her way to the door. Then, the shotgun cocked.
“Hey now, missy. You can’t just come barging into my damn house.” Sherry barked out. Alphonse cringed as he tried to wake Ed up more.
Through the muffle of the door, Riza spoke. “I’m sorry Miss, but those were my sons you brought in.” Riza said, voice so calm. That was never a good sign. “I’m terribly worried about Edward’s automail. We had an argument and he decided to come into town–”
“Not a step closer, blondie.” Sherry interrupted. “I don’t give a damn about your family drama. This is personal property.”
Riza’s face darkened. “My son’s are inside.”
“Not anymore. I sent those pains in the ass off to the clinic! Doc probably fixed him right up, that old codger.” Sherry grumbled, “Real jackass, but a fine doctor. Goes to bed early though. You might hafta’ wait till the goddamn morning.”
Riza put more pressure where her hand was forcing the door open, “Tell me where this clinic is.”
Edward screamed as his leg reconnected. Skin still too tender, metal still too heavy, nerves still too shot.
Riza slammed the door open, barrling past Sherry. Sherry aimed the gun for her back. “One more step and you’ll never see those boys again.” Riza put her hands up, turning around slowly. “I don’t think you wanna play games with me, blondie–”
Riza shoved forward, faster than Sherry. She pulled out her own handgun and pistol whipped the older woman. Sherry thumped to the floor. Riza jiggled the handle to the bedroom, tried to force it. Edward cried out again, arm reconnecting.
“Move away from the door!” Riza ordered, and began to kick it straight off the hinges. The door broke away oddly from where Al had alchemically sealed it. He gasped as she stormed in, gun raised. Edward scrambled upon seeing her, crawling backwards and away from her intrusion.
“Boys,” Riza breathed in nothing but pure relief.
“Back up, lieutenant!” Alphonse shouted, hands hovering close together. A threat in itself. Riza’s gaze went stony again.
“I know what you’re thinking about me. But you’re missing key information.” She said, blocking the only exit. Edward’s back hit the wall, his nails scrabbled down the paint. “But first, Al, you need to take Ed’s automail back off.” She coaxed, lowering her gun. Hands up, she took a slow step towards them.
“I said back up!”
“Edward is in pain, Alphonse.” She watched him falter, “You need to help your brother, Al. The automail is going to make it worse.” she crouched, dropping the gun on the ground.
“Go help Sherry. You hit her!” Al said accusingly. Riza accepted the compromise, turning her back to him. She shut the front door and eased the old woman into the recovery position. Grabbing some extra pillows and a blanket to provide extra comfort. All the while Edward groaned out in pain. Too much connection and disconnection of his automail at once. Compounded with his hypothermia, it was awfully dangerous.
Riza stood in the doorway with steaming towels. “How is he, Al?” She asked, letting her voice drop back into familiar territory. Living with the boys had softened her words, at the very least.
“Don’t come any closer.” Alphonse ordered, jumping up to his feet. He took the towels from her as she extended them.
“The note you boys found…”
“I don’t want to hear it.” Alphonse grumbled out as he placed the compresses.
“It was from Roy. But he isn’t–”
“I said I don’t want to hear it!” Alphonse yelled. Edward groaned in response. “I don’t need to hear you lie to us anymore! Roy changed sides, Lieutenant .”
Riza eyed Edward’s prone form. There was nothing she could say that would convince Alphonse. Ed was bitterly right, again. He wouldn’t let the military hurt his brother again. No matter how much he’d trusted these people, they weren’t what he thought they were.
They weren’t family.