The Deal

It had been a spiral of confusion and terror, coalescing into a wormhole, that deposited the Pillars onto the other side of the universe broken, bleeding, and annoyed. The Homunculus, Father, was dead; yet the Pillars had still been taken, punishment in disguise as a reward for indirectly being the reason that Truth was successfully imprisoned inside of a psychotic immortal.

Each Pillar had been dropped off in front of their alchemy gate, inside the same pocket dimension that housed Truth’s innocuous being, pulled inside-out reminiscent of their evil mastermind. Roy couldn’t help but cringe at his imagination, screams of their names in horror ringing in his ears - and his Lieutenant had witnessed it, too.

"NO!"

He’d wanted to spare her his death.

He hadn’t been able to see since his first visit to Truth earlier that day, lonelier than ever in the dark. He still couldn’t see, standing in that empty space again - oppressive, extensive, and devastating in its very nature. The noises of exclamation of the others, echoing and tinny, kept him from reacting with more than a curse. He’d lost his composure far too much during this terrible day; he could at least keep it while in this space. 

“Welcome,” Truth said. Roy had the uncanny thought that this must have been what the Philosopher’s Stone sounded like: the cacophony of many voices, screaming and whispering the same thing.

“Al!” In typical Edward Elric fashion, he’d ignored the authority of the room and zeroed in on his brother. Roy started forward at the sound, taking uncertain steps toward the noise before stalling. He wouldn’t be able to find them, and he'd have to walk through Truth in order to try. Instead, he strained his hearing, desperate to know if Alphonse was still whole. “Al, talk to me!”

“Brother,” Alphonse said thinly, his innocent voice flecked with gruffness that must have been from misuse. Despite the small sound, he sounded sure and confident in a way Roy had never heard. His shoulders dropped in relief. “I’m okay.”

“Well, how sweet,” Truth purred, and any relief Roy was feeling vanished. “This is truly a sight. Oh -” Truth cut itself off with a laugh, cruel and mocking. “Oops, but you can’t see that, Colonel Mus-tang.” The being laughed again, ageless and as empty as the space they occupied.

“Oi!” It was the voice of Izumi. He’d know her anywhere now because of her strong grip and terse movements which guided his blind body just hours before. He’d only heard her this loud when she was shouting at the boys. “Why don’t you explain what’s going on instead of mocking the guy that half-destroyed your warden?” 

“How impatient,” Truth said. “Don’t worry, dear Colonel Mus-tang here is going to get a treat.” 

He wasn’t able to do much more than process the words before he blinked and -

He could see. 

White hadn’t seemed so bright before, but he supposed turning on the lights had the same effect. He couldn't help but blink rapidly, adjusting to the sudden shrink of his irises which caused him to sneeze once, violently. Immediately after, before even zeroing in on Truth, he sought out the Elric brothers. They were curled together on the ground to his ten o’clock, Edward’s arms (two whole, flesh arms) holding Alphonse to his chest. Fortunately, Alphonse still had a blanket wrapped tightly around his emaciated form, and a pair of cropped soldier's pants covered his thin legs. 

He locked eyes with Edward, the boy’s brow furrowed in suspicion but eyes flecked with some unnamed emotion. Roy smiled, unable to help himself, and Edward reluctantly smiled back, shoulders easing forward in relief. Tearing his gaze away from Edward, he scanned the rest of the group and found Izumi slightly farther left than he’d guessed. She smiled when he locked eyes with her and he tipped his head to her briefly in return, glancing first at Hohenheim and then at Truth. The glaringly obvious empty space between Hohenheim and the boys took a second for him to register, and he shifted in discomfort when he realized it was supposed to be Edward's gate.

“Why?” he asked Truth simply. The shadowy figure grinned back at him, morphing until it looked like Roy’s silhouette. 

“Equivalent Exchange,” it answered. Its grin widened, spanning the entirety of its face. “You all released me, and in turn, I release you.”

“Release us where?” Van Hohenheim finally spoke, indifference breaking into bemusement. Roy glanced at him only to find himself under the same scrutiny. The man’s eyes were the same golden as Edward’s (and Alphonse’s, a gleeful voice in his head whispered), but his intensity didn't bleed through the same. There was no fire there. Just an emotional voice on a puppet.

(In the back of his mind sat Edward in a wheelchair, missing arm and leg, staring right at Roy with the same dead gaze - )

Truth chuckled, knowing and amused, and waved a shadowy hand. “You'll find out. Trust me, you'll love this. Your mission is to take down another Homonculus across the universe, and then you can all go back home whole, healthy, and mortal.” Its last word was spoken to Hohenheim, whose shoulders stiffened. Roy was missing something, there, but he looked back at Edward and Alphonse.

“Will Alphonse still have his body? Wherever you drop us off?” he asked, not particularly able to care about this new mission and unwilling to spend more time on it when he thought of Alphonse back in that armor. Edward’s arms tightened around his brother in silent rebellion. 

“Yes, yes, not to worry. You’re not concerned about this mission?” The Godlike being sounded like Envy just then. It made the hair on his arms stand up in remembered hate. 

“I’m assuming we have no choice,” Izumi stated dryly, and Roy smirked at her tone. “You also said we’d 'find out.' I don’t think any of us have more pressing matters to think about than each other, at this point.”

“Leave it to Teacher to explain to an immortal being what human priorities are,” Edward grumbled under his breath to Alphonse, just loud enough to be heard. Roy stifled a laugh.

“Well, if it’s going to be like that. Good luck, Al-che-mists.” 

Roy's vision tunneled as the shadow of himself waved its hand in dismissal.

“One last thing, Mr. Al-che-mist -”

Before Roy could panic oblivion swallowed him.

///

When he woke up, he was face down in dewy grass, cool on his burning cheeks and neck. Twilight shadows made the grass a dark green, almost blue, and the structure beyond was muted yellow and red. His body ached and his hands spasmed when he braced them on the ground to push himself up. Gasping, Roy fell back to the earth. 

“Oh, my,” a voice exclaimed maybe a hundred paces behind him. It was a woman, with a deep, inflected tone that rivaled those of Western City. Roy heard a groan, also behind him, also a woman, and concluded that it was Izumi. He silently scoffed to himself when he realized he'd hoped she was Riza.

Footsteps hurried away, and Roy assumed the woman was running to get help. He shifted to get up again but even flexing his hands had him hissing. Instead, he rolled over to look up at the cloudy sky before sitting up and then kneeling to look around in consternation, worried and on guard.

They were in a stadium, with what looked like four prominent teams, all very distinct pairs of colors. There were no lines on the ground but three large posts with circles of metal rose high into the sky. Four doors led into the towers that paraded the team colors, and two large entrances let out onto the field. In Roy's immediate vicinity sprawled the rest of the Pillars; Izumi was starting to sit up, Hohenheim was working to stand, and the boys were still out cold. Roy chucked it up to them being kids, but he still got to his feet and made his way towards them. Hohenheim, who’d been looking around and patting himself down, whirled to watch with an unreadable expression.

Roy tried his best to ignore the man as he delicately took off the heavy black trenchcoat hiding his dress blues, kneeling beside Alphonse as he started to stir.

“Alphonse, why don’t you put this on?” he asked when the boy winced to sit up. 

Roy was staggered that he could see Alphonse’s expressions, to know that he looked just like his brother but softer around the eyes and mouth. He knew these boys weren’t his - that their father was only paces away - but he had seen what the mistake they’d done had turned them into, their desolate and wretched existences. He felt simultaneously numb and overwhelmed at actually meeting Alphonse for the first time.

“Thank you, Colonel,” he said politely, letting Roy help him slip it on. The boy smiled up at him brightly, eyes beaming, and though it felt foreign Roy couldn’t help but smile back just as hard. 

“It’s weird to see you do things for other people,” Edward yawned next to Alphonse, turning to lie on his back and stretch. He sighed dramatically and relaxed back down to blink lazily up at Roy. He supposed it had been a very long day for all of them and he couldn’t blame the kid for being tired. 

“It’s weird to see you reach the top shelf,” Roy parried, smirking smugly when Edward shot up to glare. Alphonse giggled, stalling the tirade that was about to unleash, and Roy called a mission successful and stood. 

“If I may have a moment,” Hohenheim said behind him. Roy turned and found the man gazing at him with incredible intensity. It was easy to see where Edward got it from when the man finally decided to use it. Roy nodded at him and he turned to walk a small distance away.

“I want to thank you,” he said lowly when they were just out of whispering earshot. Roy’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. “You’ve been there for them when I haven’t been. I denied Truth's deal, so I don’t have much time left, and I wanted you to know that my boys consider you their father far more than me.”

Blankness. He couldn't think of anything to say; couldn't name any of his feelings, tumultuous as they were. He’d never felt less sure-footed than this day, where every half-hour something new would crop up to surprise or overwhelm him. He was quickly becoming numb. 

“I know this is unexpected,” the older man continued genially, patiently, as if he wasn't rocking Roy's whole world again. “I was not a good father, and even though I have no right to ask this, I do ask that you continue to look after them after I die.”

Feeling like he was about to sign adoption papers or a life sentence, Roy just held his punctured hand out for a firm handshake, palm on fire. Hohenheim’s hand felt like paper even through his thick bandages and gloves.

“You never had to ask,” he responded gruffly, voice thick with something or maybe nothing at all. Maybe this was what his voice sounded like when he was empty and had nothing left to give. Hohenheim graced him with a small, genuine smile, and Roy watched as he walked over to the boys. Izumi made her way to stand next to him.

“I thought he would want to stay to actually be their father for once,” Roy said upon greeting, not understanding how this decision was reached but unable to do anything.

“Perhaps he is simply tired,” Izumi murmured. They both watched as Hohenheim hugged Alphonse and rubbed Edward’s head, barely managing to avoid a kick to the groin. Roy hummed in a noncommittal agreement. Perhaps this was a good thing in the long run.

Within minutes Hohenheim started slowing down, the air around him a parody of thick molasses. The smile on his face was softening more and more, and his skin started peeling in flakes while the wind took him piece by piece, like a book whose pages drifted after its spine had been severed.

As he faded a voice behind them all exclaimed, “Nicholas?”

Roy and Izumi spun while the boys took in their dying father. Despite his injuries, Roy had an arm up, fingers poised to snap and unleash a wrath this new world had never seen upon this unsuspecting person. An older man, grey-bearded and wearing a robe straight out of a fairytale, was standing and staring sadly at Hohenheim dying before him. The spark of recognition was fading in his eyes, which hinted that the way Hohenheim died was familiar, not the man himself. He was an alchemist, then. One who knew someone that had a Stone.

Roy and Izumi traded a look and Roy turned back to the boys, sure that Izumi could take care of an old man. Alphonse was openly crying, fat tears washing away the dirt on his face in streams. Edward had an arm around his frail shoulders, leaning forward enough that Roy couldn’t make out his expression. Shaking shoulders gave him away. Hohenheim had stilled and died with a small smile on his face, both hands relaxed in his lap like he was taking a nap against a tree. 

He knew Edward didn’t think much of Hohenheim, but he’d heard the boy in front of the Pillars with the man against the pure energy attack. For all that he preached that he didn’t care, Roy knew Edward had cared the most. Love and hate were separated by a very fine line, and he knew the kid couldn’t tell where the line was most days. 

Roy stalked forward to plop down next to the brothers, relieved to sit. They hadn’t moved until he was down, then Alphonse pulled Edward and himself into Roy’s lap, clambering closely enough that he had to wrap an arm around both of them to keep stable. Edward was still silent, pliable, and he relaxed into the hold on him with a quiet shudder. Roy’s heart clenched.

“He really is a bastard,” he muttered. Alphonse wailed in response, but Edward had burrowed closer to Roy, so close that he could feel his tears wetting his dress blues. 

He’d never hugged any of his subordinates before this day. Not even smart, headstrong Riza, not since they were kids. It was a strange feeling, foreign, but it felt right even through the pain in his hands. Too often he'd had to hold himself aloof and disinterested, worried that his enemies would see the careful way he considered his team's sensibilities. It was better for his long game that his peers in the military didn’t know how extensively he cared - his team wouldn’t unavoidably be used as cannon fodder to knock him off of his high horse. 

Now, with no military in sight, in a foreign world across the universe, Roy couldn’t care about things like distance and maintaining face. The boys he’d watched grow up were hurting in spite of getting their bodies back, and it killed him that after all they went through the pain and heartache still wasn’t over. 

Roy squeezed, not as tightly as he wanted to, but firmly enough that they would feel his leftover strength and lean on his stability. Alphonse wormed his thin arms around his tired neck, and he resigned himself to carrying the boy once they got up from the cold, wet grass. Edward sniffled once and then blew his nose on Roy’s dress blues messily, rebellious and disrespectful even in his grief. In a way, it reassured him that they would both be fine despite their loss.

“If I may,” the old man offered, voice inflected just like the woman from earlier. He spoke quietly, reserved in the face of a man dying and his children crying over him. “Could I offer a room? You all seem to have been through quite an ordeal.” 

Roy and Edward looked up at once, in concert, tired eyes scanning their ragtag group with a stranger’s stare. They did look like they’d been through an ordeal. Dirty, bruised, and fatigued at the edges, they no doubt raised some concerns. 

“That would be very much appreciated,” Izumi said politely, hand raising for a shake. “We do not have a means of paying you, however, Mr…”

“Albus Dumbledore,” the man said, shaking Izumi’s hand firmly. “Please, there is no need for payment. You’ve arrived at my school, Hogwarts, and the least we can do is offer you all a space to clean up and perhaps get a good meal. We can have a nice chat, as well.” 

“A school, huh?” Izumi asked, humming before locking eyes with Roy. He nodded and she reached down to drag Edward up so he could stand. The kid was still short, sure, but that automail leg was crushingly heavy. Edward grumbled at the manhandling but having a goal seemed to pull him from his loss, and he scrubbed his puffy eyes with a dirty forearm. His other arm - small, unused, a twelve-year-old's arm - remained loose, the puncture wound no doubt keeping him from using it, tightly wrapped but likely just as painful as Roy's hands. He had heard the exclamations when Father had stalked towards the kid, blind and unwilling to use his alchemy lest he incinerate Edward. Riza had been tense under his arm, seconds away from firing her newly loaded weapons, when Alphonse had pulled that crazy move with Mei. 

It was amazing the boy was standing right then when the ordeals of the day were dragging his limbs down like Edward’s arm. He stood up anyway, pulling Alphonse close and letting the boy wrap his thin limbs around him. He seemed content to fall asleep that way, his head tucked into Roy’s shoulder. He hoped he still smelled like cologne instead of ash and death. 

Edward watched them with unreadable eyes, and when Roy looked down at him, he turned away with a scowl. They were back to their normal routine, then. He supposed a sense of normalcy was needed in order for Edward to regulate his emotions. He’d get a moment to speak to him later, however, so Roy just poked his forehead and started walking with Alphonse. 

“Thank you for the offer, Mr. Dumbledore," Roy said smoothly as if he hadn't woken up in a strange world with no money or resources besides a farm hand and two kids. “We have much to speak to you about, as well.” 

The man knew alchemy, knew what it looked like when a person with a Philosopher’s Stone died, and had offered them a room despite it all. Suspect, but he could work with that. It helped that Truth had been the one to deposit them, which meant they were where they needed to be to get the most information to stop this new homunculus. He hoped.

“I have a feeling this will be a most enlightening conversation,” Albus mused. “If you would, please allow me to lead you to our school and a room for refreshments.” 

The bearded man turned to walk through one of the entrances onto the pitch. The others followed, and Izumi's deep breath at the sight of the castle that filled the horizon was echoed by Roy. The sight was almost as grand as the gates of the North, distant royalty. The castle grew bigger with each step, arching stones and fire-lit lamps creating a surreal, fairytale feeling. 

“Impressive,” Roy said. Albus nodded in his place in front of them. Little fires in the form of torches and lanterns dotted some trails further up, leading to the front door; lanterns lined a couple of balconies, and owls flew in a sporadic cloud above one of the spires, just visible in the darkening sky.

“It has been a glory to see for generations,” he said. “Founded by some of the first wizards and witches to grace the earth.”

All three Pillars stopped dead in their tracks. As alchemists, they were used to extremes, what some would call miracles. Big explosions, expansive and complicated buildings, the world's best booby traps - all things within an alchemist's capabilities. In a lot of ways, this was seen as magic by those not familiar with Amestris or Xing. But with the castle, the fairytale appearance of Albus Dumbledore, and the free admittance of wizards and witches…

“What the f -”