Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The plan should have been to pose as Wrath’s son to better oversee the youngest of Father’s homunculi.

It had been a perfect plan: he would be as always, close to the halls of power, keep a close eye on Wrath, seem completely innocent and non-threatening, and Wrath could cover up any non-childlike behavior he exhibited. There was of course Wrath’s human wife as well, but as if Pride couldn’t fool some human woman. 

However—Roy Mustang had risen through the ranks too quickly, charming and brilliant, surrounded by loyal subordinates, and although they had crushed other ambitious and determined stars before, this one was a potential sacrifice, and they were so close to Father’s plan coming to fruition.

So even though Pride had posed as the son of Amestris’ leaders for centuries, Father decided that Mustang bore further watching, and perfectly, Mustang’s closest friend was having trouble conceiving with his wife.

So enter Selim, an orphan boy from King Bradley’s hometown who just happened to have gotten lost while coming to Central for the first time and pitifully bumping into Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes.

It had all been laughably easy to be installed in the Hughes household.

Less laughably easy though was—

In his previous guises, the Fuherer involved always knew what he really was, so behind closed doors, they would leave him be.

There was no such respite with the Hughes household. 

Both Hughes and Gracia want to dress him in cutesy outfits, take what seems to be an endless number of photographs, require him to take a bath every day and comb his hair (he doesn’t need to, but sadly he can’t tell them that ), chat about his day, make him eat his vegetables, take him to the zoo to stare at exotic creatures, read him bedtime stories, bake cookies for him—

(So not all of it was bad per say, if he had to be stuck with some humans.

They’re very doting, and he guesses maybe all this care makes them feel good, but he is Pride , and this is all so stifling.

If it weren’t for Father’s orders, he’d rip them apart.)

The vegetables, bath times, and study times (all utterly useless; he doesn’t need to eat, his shadows can make him clean, and he doesn’t need to study when he has centuries of knowledge at his disposal) all continue painfully slowly, month by month, until even the smug knowledge that he has them all fooled grows a bit stale, and he can feel the shadows within him clamoring to be let out.

(But he won’t fail Father, and spending time here has at least let him know that General Grumman, besides just being Mustang’s mentor, is also the grandfather of Mustang’s right-hand lieutenant, Riza Hawkeye, which has some interesting implications given how often the general urges Mustang to marry his granddaughter.

There’s also the fact that Mustang and Hughes have a system to check if their calls are being monitored, which is mostly what Hughes’ annoying gushing over him is for.

Mostly.

Hughes sometimes gushes unprompted too, it’s bizarre.)

And then one day, a car hurtles out of nowhere, careening straight towards him, and just when Pride is considering whether it’d be less obvious to use his shadows to flip the car away or to just take the hit and heal up to call it a miracle—

Arms envelop him, and he is carried bodily out of harm’s way.

“Selim! Are you alright?” Hughes frantically asks, his arms around Gracia who is hugging Pride tight.

Pride blinks at them, completely bewildered.

(Did they both just run out in the middle of the street to save him?

They’re normal humans—if they got hit by a car, they’d be paste.

Well—that’s interesting.

It seemed as if they loved Selim enough to actually risk their lives for him.

Pride had never had anyone like that before.

Intriguing—it was only right of course, since he is so superior to any of these humans here, but maybe he could keep playing at happy family a little longer.)

“Selim?” Gracia asks softly, patting his head.

He blinks and then makes a distressed face and forces some tears out for verisimilitude. “So scary!”

“Yes, yes, dearest—that was so scary for us as well,” Gracia murmurs, hugging Pride tight and burying her nose in his hair.

“And that driver is dead,” Hughes says menacingly, glaring over at the car while cocking his gun. “When I get my hands on him—”

“Report it to the police, dear,” Gracia says, touching his hand while still rubbing Pride’s head. “We should take Selim to the hospital just to make sure everything is alright, and that would be somewhat delayed by you getting arrested for murder.”

“As always my darling, you are right,” Hughes simpers, setting his gun away and taking Pride up from Gracia’s arms so that he can pick him up and carry him up high. “It’s okay, Selim—after we go to the doctor’s, we can go to the ice cream parlor!”

Pride genuinely perks up a bit at that (ice cream is one invention that Pride will grudgingly admit that humans did a good job with—not that he couldn’t have done better if he ever had the time away from Father’s plans. Perhaps afterwards). “I can eat whatever I want?” he verifies. “With two scoops?”

“Whatever you want with two scoops! Hell, why not three scoops!” Hughes laughs and nods.

Gracia clears her throat and looks at him.

“…how about you try two scoops first, and then if your tummy doesn’t hurt, then we’ll go up to three, okay?” Hughes amends quickly.

Obviously his stomach doesn’t hurt (he’s not human after all—or Gluttony after eating too many disgusting humans), and so he manages to get three whole scoops of mint chocolate chip ice cream with two humans doting on him and hanging onto his every word.

(This isn’t too bad.)

He decides to fully immerse himself in his role after that, playing the cheerful child with loving parents who doesn’t have a care in the world, and it’s—surprisingly freeing?

It’s pleasant sometimes to have two people who really regard him as the center of their world.

(It is just a role though, and he does keep a sharp ear out for Hughes’ conversations with Mustang regardless while making his reports to Father and overseeing the rest of the homunculi.)

When Gracia gets pregnant (he did briefly consider setting up an accident, but he isn’t quite sure on the mechanics of miscarriages, and if Gracia really dies, both she and Hughes will no longer probably be able to worship him anymore), he is on high alert from any drop in his due attention, but instead, Hughes and Gracia immerse him in plans for being a big brother and welcoming in the new baby.

He’s not really looking forward to it even with all the attention he’s getting (humans are disgusting—they’re born as mewling little useless things that seem to just shit and wail), and at first he’s proven right. Elicia when she is born at first just cries and poops and keeps everyone up in the house all night long (if he needed sleep, he would definitely be tempted to murder her by now).

Still, he persists in his duties and role as a big brother, watching over her, handing her toys that she can drool then eventually chew on, hugging and kissing her (but only after wiping her clean because drool is disgusting) because at least Hughes and Gracia exclaim and compliment him about how well he is doing.

(Puny humans don’t even know how they’re talking to, heh.)

And then one day, Elicia looks up at him with shining eyes, smacks her lips together a few times, and squeals out, “Selim!”

Gracia gasps and covers her mouth with her hands, “Oh! Maes, did you hear that?”

“I certainly did!” Hughes exclaims, tearing up and taking off his glasses to dab at his eyes, “Our baby girl’s first word! Her brother’s name! Oh happy day~ This calls for a celebration! And I need to call Roy! Do you think she’ll say it again into the phone?”

“I’m sure she will as long as her brother holds her,” Gracia says with a smile.

As Hughes rushes out to drag the phone over to the nursery, Elicia holds up her chubby hands and again demands, “Selim!”

(It’s not his real name.

But still—first words are important, aren’t they?

And usually with humans it was either ‘mom’ or ‘dad’—the parents.

Even his own first words had been ‘Father.’

It meant the person this being most feared and admired, did it not?

This puny little drooling human was actually much more intuitive than Pride had thought then, to be able to realize his importance.)

He smiles down at Elicia, picking her up and cooing to her, “Aw Elicia, I love you so much! And you love me best too, right?”

“Selim!” Elicia yells happily, throwing her chubby little arms around his neck.

“Did you hear that Roy? I told you I wasn’t making things up!” Hughes happily chatters into the phone, bringing the receiver back to his face. “Of course Elicia is a genius—and Selim is the best big brother in the whole wide world! Oh, I am a blessed man, with the most wonderful wife, the sweetest son, and an angel of a daughter—Roy? Roy? Aw, he hung up on me…”

After that, Elicia is a bit more bearable. It helps of course that she never loses that proper worshipful look in her eyes, always toddling after him and clinging to his legs, wanting to play with him.

(It really should be annoying, a tiny human always clamoring after him.

But—

Somehow it’s not.

Maybe it’s because he’s basically the center of her world, and the more he acts like a good big brother, the more Hughes and Gracia both trust and adore him.

It’s extremely gratifying that’s true.

Elicia is so much better than all his other real siblings since she properly defers and respects his superiority the way all of them should.)

Of course, she does tend to get in the way of when he actually needs to oversee some of Father’s work or check in to see how Wrath is doing, but it’s easy enough to distract her. After the first time she burst in on him just seemingly staring at a wall during his “study time” (pah, human children are pathetic even needing study time to understand simple geometric shapes!), every time he needs some time alone to go probing through the corridors of power, he uses his powers to first set up a little shadow play with all the bunnies and fuzzy woodland creatures she seems to like so much (he doesn’t know why; the city is much better than any wilderness woodland area he’s had to tromp through), and then he can keep a tiny bit of his attention focused on telling her some insipid little story while the rest of him focuses on Father’s will.

It’s an interesting test of his powers—when she’s a baby, it’s obviously laughably easy to keep a story going with a minimum amount of his attention, but as she gets older, she starts to demand changes to the stories, like adding in princesses and pirates, and for him to do interesting voices for the characters, so that takes—a bit of an adjustment.

He figures out how much of himself he needs to leave in his human shell in order to stay more or less competent enough to handle her demands while still sending himself everywhere through Amestris to spy on what’s going on, oversee Sloth and his other homunculi brethren, and make reports to Father.

If sometimes he rushes to finish his tasks and hurry back because he can tell that Elicia is getting a little frustrated with some of his more rote answers and is starting to pout—

Well, this is also a mission from Father.

He was the one in the first place who told Pride to infiltrate himself thoroughly into the Hughes family, and obviously, he has wildly succeeded at that.

He did have to swear Elicia into secrecy though after she extolled his shadow play skills to Hughes and Gracia in a babble of enthusiasm (thankfully, Hughes and Gracia had just thought Elicia was exaggerating things and had an amazing imagination, or else he may have had to do something drastic).

“Elicia, you need to know, my shadow play skills are top secret,” he says seriously to her after plopping her down in a chair.

Elicia nods at him, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Secret!” she echoes.

“That means they’re just between you and me,” he clarifies, pointing between the two of them. “So we only talk about the shadow plays with each other, got it?”

Elicia looks down then up again. “Plays longer?”

“…alright, longer plays,” Pride concedes (it’s fine, he can just add more ridiculous twists to the story, she won’t care).

“More voices!” she adds.

“More voices, fine,” Pride nods (not that hard either).

“Secret!” Elicia crows, a shining smile on her face.

“Yes, secret,” Pride nods proudly (good he got through to her).

“And cake!” Elicia adds, now on a roll.

Pride frowns. “No. Me giving you more cake would look suspicious.”

Elicia’s lower lip wobbles as she stares up at him with teary eyes, “No…cake…?”

If Elicia starts crying, Hughes and Gracia will inevitably come running in, which is the only reason Pride struggles a bit before saying, “….some cake. Like maybe an extra quarter of my slice, deal?”

Elicia stops looking on the verge of tears and beams sunnily at him. “Secret!”

Pride narrows his eyes at her. “…you didn’t just con me, did you?”

Elicia tilts her head. “Con?”

(Probably not, she’s like what, two?

Pride isn’t really clear on small humans—Elicia is really the first one he’s ever had to interact with for an extended period of time, but he’s pretty sure they’re not that developed yet.

Not that humans were ever all that developed.)

“Forget that word, Dad will probably think it’s weird if you know it. Mom might too,” Pride comments.

“Con!” Elicia yells because she’s just a little shit like that.

Still at the very least, even if she keeps yelling about cons, and even though Hughes and Gracia ask him exactly what stories he’s telling her (he makes up something about a thief who steals from the rich and gives to the poor even though it’s almost exactly the kind of stupid story Greed would love), she doesn’t mention the shadow plays any more to them.

Although, he has probably given her too high of an expectation on what a shadow play or really any kind of puppet theater should be because she’s always disappointed about the ones at school, chattering to him about how one day he should open up his own puppet theater and show the world!

(It’s a nice thought, but obviously it isn’t going to happen.

Father’s Promised Day is coming soon, and after that—

Well, he doesn’t actually know Father’s plan after that for him, but he doesn’t have to.

Children shouldn’t question their parents after all.

Although—maybe he should get Wrath to send the Hughes family off on a trip before that day starts.

It’s not that he’s gone soft, it’s just that depriving Mustang of his best friend and steadfast support and flow of information could weaken him properly to become a better sacrifice later on.

Still, he’d better keep the plan to himself for now—Father rarely likes any change in plans.

Something to think about closer to that day.)

So for the most part, things go smoothly and according to Father’s plan, and even if Mustang occasionally ruffles his hair or smooshes his face into cake, it just shows how well he can play his role.

(He will greatly enjoy turning Mustang into a sacrifice though.

Sometimes he idly daydreams about the reveal and Mustang’s shock and how satisfying all that will be.)

And then a suit of armor and a short brat with an automail arm and leg come barging in as potential sacrifices, and it all goes to hell.

Chapter Text

When Hughes first hears about how Roy had gone and recruited a child as a State Alchemist, he nearly punches him in the face.

(After all they went through—he wants to put someone else, some poor 11 year old boy through all that as well?

They’re lucky to be alive —although given everything they did, maybe they’re not.

They got through, but at what cost, and with how much blood on their hands—

Whenever Roy becomes Führer, Hughes hopes the second person he puts on trial is him, because even if the Flame Alchemist’s deeds were more notorious and deadly, he doesn’t think he should be let off either.

He just hopes that when that day comes, Selim and Elicia are both old enough to stand on their own and support each other and Gracia through that trial.)

It’s only after Roy explains that the child and his brother had apparently done the great taboo of human transmutation and had managed to barely get out lucky with the loss of his arm and leg while binding his brother’s soul to a giant suit of armor that Hughes puts it together.

“…you want to give them a chance to figure out how to restore themselves back to normal.”

Roy nods, sliding him a look. “Why else would you think I recruited a literal child?”

“I don’t know,” Hughes shrugs in fake nonchalance. “I thought you were tired of being the youngest State Alchemist ever and wanted someone else to get picked on for once.”

Roy rolls his eyes, “You know how much I love being the wunderkind.”

“Uh-huh,” Hughes says, pouring some more beer into Roy’s glass. “Sure. Which general’s head did you make explode this week?”

Roy screws up his face in thought. “General Edison I think. He couldn’t believe I was making personal phone-calls on company time—specifically stopped by Grumman’s office to ream me out.”

“I’m sure Grumman loved that—and hope you got some good information this time. How’s your mother anyway?”

“Mom’s doing great, girls are doing good too—apparently business is good,” Roy shrugs. “Some  information—General Raven is apparently a frequent customer. Not entirely surprising though, and not entirely sure what to do with that.”

“Could come in handy later,” Hughes says, leaning back. “He’s married, isn’t he?”

“You’re the information officer, you tell me.”

“Married, but your mom’s information isn’t common knowledge, so we can just keep it in mind,” Hughes confirms, searching his memory. “He doesn’t have any kids though—and I guess doesn’t want to adopt. He’s definitely missing out.”

Roy gets a hunted look in his eyes and starts drinking his beer faster, “Oh look at the time, I have to leave—”

“Not before you see these photos of my whole family at Selim’s school’s field day!” Hughes says, triumphantly drawing out a whole stack of new photos from his wallet (custom-made because regular wallets are too weak to hold his entire love for his perfect family). “Here we have Gracia with our adorable children, here’s Elicia cheering her brother on, here’s Selim running the relay race—”

“Did he actually win?” Roy interrupts.

“No, but he tried his best and that’s what matters!” Hughes gushes. “Look at his little legs pumping away! He’s adorable!”

“And kind of small for his age,” Roy points out, glancing at the photo. “Maybe you should stop letting him eat like two cakes at a time, the sugar seems to be stunting his growth. Not to mention cavities.”

Hughes snatches the photo back. “I’ll have you know that our dentist says he’s never seen such perfect teeth before with Selim! And you know—even Selim is only guessing about how old he actually is.”

(Selim says he barely remembers his parents, with how young he was when they passed away, and his birthday was just what the orphanage told him it was.

He also doesn’t like to talk too much about the orphanage he had been at before it had grown full and transferred him over to Central—and had so shoddily just dropped the poor boy off in the middle of the train station without even someone to pick him up, the bastards—and neither Hughes nor Gracia have pressed him on it.

Still—if Selim won’t even talk about it, Hughes can’t imagine that it was good.

So if his son wants an extra serving of ice cream sometimes, and it doesn’t seem to make his tummy hurt or give him any cavities, why not occasionally give him an extra serving?

Sadly, Elicia is not as lucky. Having tried to copy her brother, she ended up throwing up a ton of ice cream and spending the next day in bed eating liquids.

He had been beside himself with worry for his little angel, but Gracia reasonably pointed out that perhaps Selim’s stomach was just hardier since wherever he had been before obviously had been rougher.

Also he suspects that they never gave Selim enough food back then—the doctor assures both him and Gracia that Selim’s health is fine, but he can’t deny Roy’s comment that Selim does seem to be growing very slowly.

One of these days he’s going to go find that orphanage, get all the kids adopted to good homes, and then shut that place down.

He would have done it already, but it’s been strangely hard to locate—Selim’s adoption had been completely processed at the Central orphanage since technically he didn’t belong to his old orphanage anymore, so he doesn’t have any official paperwork to go off of. There’s always a chance Selim remembered the orphanage’s name wrong though, since despite his prodigious memory, he is still just a kid in the end.)

“Huh, lucky kid,” Roy muses, leaning back. “Doesn’t get cavities, can seemingly eat nearly anything without any problem, got adopted by you guys…”

“Aw Roy,” Hughes simpers. “Don’t worry, you also still have time! You can get married and either adopt or have kids whenever you want! Although if you’re old and decrepit by then, may be hard if you have or adopt a smaller kid, I think your knees will give out from running after them—”

“My hypothetical knees will be fine, and I’m pretty sure this is my cue to get you home to Gracia before you get sloppy drunk again,” Roy interrupts, standing up and also hauling him up.

Hughes goes ahead and finishes off his beer, setting the bottle down. “Well, we’ll see if you’re so cavalier once the Elric kid really shows up—they’re definitely going to make sure you’re in charge of him, and then you’ll get a taste of what your generals have been putting up with you all these years.”

Roy laughs and smirks. “I’m sure no one can top me.”

When Edward Elric really does come to Central to become a State Alchemist, Hughes is unfortunately on a seaside vacation (but not really unfortunately because how could spending time with his family ever be anything but a blessing?), but of course he hears about the visit all the same given that the boy apparently tried to kill King Bradley as part of the test.

“Seriously??? How many aneurysms did Central High Command have that day?” Hughes asks eagerly into the receiver. “Did he become the first ever State Alchemist to be arrested right after getting sworn in?”

He can practically see Roy pinch the bridge of his nose at the other end of this call. “I think probably all of Central High Command, and he’s not arrested. Just put under my charge.”

“I told you they were going to do that~” Hughes sing-songs smugly into the receiver. “Now you’ve got a 13 year old with an attitude problem and his brother who's a giant suit of armor as well!”

“One day, Selim and Elicia will be surly teenagers, and you can ask me for advice then,” Roy says loftily.

Hughes hisses. “Selim and Elicia will be wonderful young adults who know that Gracia and I will support them no matter what! And even if they grow a little surly, I wouldn’t ask you!”

He then hangs up while Roy is still chuckling.

(Ugh—just the thought of Selim and Elicia being grumpy teenagers who don’t want to talk to him brings tears to his eyes.

He kind of wishes they could stay cute little children forever—but of course the whole point of being a parent is for your kids to grow up and be able to become their own person in time.)

“Papa?” Selim asks curiously, tugging on his pant leg. “You were talking about a 13 year old State Alchemist?”

Hughes quickly smiles, picking up Selim and placing him on his knee. “Yep! He’s just 13, and he just passed the test to become a State Alchemist yesterday!”

“Wow!” Selim says with wide eyes. “He sounds really special! I can’t wait to meet him!”

“I’m sure that can be arranged!” Hughes beams at his son. “I think Roy is going to give him a pretty long leash, but he’ll have to report back to Central eventually, and then I’ll make sure you get to see him!”

Selim claps his hands together, “Wow, I can’t wait! And can I meet his brother too? I can’t believe he’s a walking suit of armor!”

(Selim has ears like an elephant’s sometimes—Hughes has no idea how he overhears half the stuff he knows.

He doesn’t really want to talk about human transmutation with Selim—hell, he doesn’t even know enough about alchemy to really say anything about it besides the fact that it’s forbidden for a reason and that it usually ends up killing the alchemist, but probably certain subjects can’t be avoided forever, no matter how much he wishes they could.)

“They…seem to have encountered some kind of accident when practicing alchemy,” Hughes says carefully, looking seriously into Selim’s eyes. “It’s the kind of thing that—perhaps isn’t uncommon in that field. But if you are interested in alchemy, Selim, I will definitely ask Roy and try to get you a good teacher—”

“Oh, I don’t need a teacher,” Selim says sunnily. “I know everything I need to know already, and there’s no need for more! I don’t believe accidents like that are that common, since otherwise we should have heard of so many! But either ways, I don’t need to be an alchemist.”

“Well, that’s fine too!” Hughes says in relief. “If you ever change your mind though Selim, just let us know! You know Papa will never refuse you anything.”

Selim blinks and nods. “I know.”

Hughes hugs his precocious little son to him (Selim’s favorite phrase is probably ‘I know’, it’s adorable!), squeezing him tight. “Aw, of course you do! And now we should go play on the beach!”

Selim frowns, pushing at him. “Too tight! And—do we have to?”

(Selim is not awfully fond of the beach—maybe it has something to do with the bright sunlight or the sand, he’s not sure, but like Gracia said, Selim could use some good old vitamin D, so whether he likes it or not, he’s going to have sunscreen lathered over him, and then he’s going to go stand in the sun for at least an hour or so.)

“We promised Elicia we’d teach her how to make sandcastles, remember?” Hughes prompts.

Selim crosses his arms and lets out a cute little huff. “More like keep her from eating sand,” he mutters before getting off and walking glumly towards the door. “Okay, I guess.”

“Go see your mom for more sunscreen!” Hughes urges before grabbing a sun umbrella and following him out.

With the sun umbrella in hand and sunscreen newly if reluctantly applied, Selim seems a bit happier as he twirls the sun umbrella around while imperiously instructing Elicia on his plans for a grand sand castle city. Elicia nods seriously and scurries to scoop up sand into her bucket, and their two children set about creating a lumpy looking sand city, with Selim occasionally slapping Elicia’s hand down from when she’s about to try and put her sandy fingers in her mouth.

Hughes of course hurries to take photos of their masterpiece as Gracia looks up from the murder mystery she’s reading while lounging on the towel and smiles.

“My, are they trying to create a canal system?” she asks, sitting up to look more closely.

“Yep! And they’re doing a great job of it!” Hughes beams as Selim helps Elicia drag over a bucket full of sea water to carefully pour into their city.

“It really is,” Gracia says, watching as the water fills the city. “Maybe Selim should be an architect or a city planner someday, he clearly has a gift for it.”

“That would be delightful!” Hughes says, already making plans for art classes and tours through the city planning offices (he doesn’t actually know what classes an architect needs to take, but he’s sure he can find out!). “We’ll need to remember to tell the school to maybe do some more field trips to famous historical buildings so that he can get exposed to more of that—”

“And I’ll also buy some books with pretty pictures of beautiful buildings and see if he likes any of them,” Gracia beams at him. “Some simple ones so Elicia can also follow along if she’s interested.”

Hughes snuggles next to his wife on the towel, kisses the side of her head, and sighs happily as their hands intertwine. “Your ideas as ever, are brilliant, Gracia.”

(He doesn’t deserve her, he knows.

He doesn’t deserve her or their wonderful children what with all the families and lives he broke apart and ended, but—

Somehow they’re all here, and for now, he’ll enjoy them.)

Gracia smiles softly and strokes his cheek with her hand. “I know.”

Selim scrunches up his nose as he walks hand-in-hand with Elicia over towards them. “If you guys are done being mushy, the SelimAndElicia City is complete!”

“City! Done!” Elicia says happily, waving her pudgy little hands around.

“And it’s a masterpiece!” Hughes gushes, immediately following his kids over to take a closer look, Gracia close on his heels. “Just look at all these canals and riverways! Where did you come up with this?”

“Oh, just something I read,” Selim says off-handedly.

(Selim is so smart— his teachers always say that he always knows all the answers in class, his homework is always perfectly complete without a single smudge mark from an eraser, he is reading far beyond his grade level, and Hughes is mildly worried but also proud that one day soon, Selim will probably know even more than either he or Gracia do.

Still, that’s good—maybe he’ll be wiser than his old dad too.

Make better decisions and all that.)

“It’s amazing! A veritable masterpiece!” Hughes praises the two of them, “It should be enshrined forever on this beach as a testament to both of your geniuses!”

Selim looks around and points out, “The tide will come in and wipe it all away sooner or later.”

“All the more reason to take a picture then!” Hughes says, backing away and holding up his camera. “Now Selim and Elysia—act like you’re on a magazine cover!”

Both his children put on big, huge smiles as they gesture towards the sand city, and this of course is the photo that Hughes blows up and displays during the much-anticipated exhibition match between the Flame Alchemist vs. the Fullmetal Alchemist.

Sadly, everyone there is a complete heathen who boos and yells at him to get on with the match—yes, even Roy that absolute traitor.

(He might still have been ticked off about how Hughes had negotiated the use of the parade grounds, which had cleared the final hurdle for this match to actually happen, but come on, Hughes knows that A. Roy would never actually harm this teenage alchemist and B. Roy is a wily veteran who isn’t about to get beaten by a teenager, no matter how much of a prodigy he is.

Also, Selim had been extremely enthusiastic about the idea so of course he had to make it happen.

However, Selim was back here in the MC booth with him instead of in the front of the stands like he had wanted because even if Hughes doesn’t know what the kid alchemist is capable of, he has no such delusions about how explosive and destructive Roy’s alchemy usually is.)

“Fine, none of you appreciate having an actual picture of angels in your midst,” he sniffs before roaring out and pointing, “Annnnnnnnd in the red corner! The Flame Alchemist, Colonel Roy Mustang! Annnnnnnnnnd in the blue corner! The Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward Elric!”

There’s a variety of boos and jeers that accompany that, but Roy doesn’t waste any time covering the field in roaring flames while lecturing at the kid with strategic idioms (and Roy says he doesn’t want kids, Hughes is calling bullshit here). Selim is leaning practically out of the MC booth, his eyes intent among the flames, and Hughes has just grabbed him back when the kid actually gets the drop on Roy and destroys his glove. Of course, Hughes could have told the kid that Roy isn’t dumb enough just to carry one of those around with him (he would never have survived Ishval otherwise—or even if he was that dumb, Hughes or Riza would have definitely made sure he had extras), and then Roy finishes off the whole thing with one big flashy explosion.

“Hm,” Selim says, eyes still intent on the grounds. “The chibi alchemist is still kind of reckless.”

“Well he’s just a teenager after all,” Hughes says, quickly gathering up the precious photo and grabbing Selim’s hand, “Come on, we need to go now.”

“What? But you haven’t even announced the winners yet!” Selim protests, following him along.

“Yes, but if we don’t leave now, who do you think the Führer is going to make clean everything? It’ll definitely be all the soldiers there. A soldier should know when to retreat,” Hughes says decisively.

Selim looks at him and then tilts his head with a wide smile, “I’ll remember that!” he says happily, his little legs pumping as he follows Hughes in his scramble back to his office.

(He hopes that Selim doesn’t have to.

Like if Selim really wants to follow in his footsteps and become a soldier—Hughes won’t bar anyone from their dream, least of all their own son, so he’ll support him and guide him the best he can through the ranks if that’s what he really wants.

However, he hopes that with all the other opportunities he and Gracia make available to both Selim and Elicia, neither of his children decide to join the military.

Even if— when Roy takes over, it’s just still—a soldier’s job is to serve and to guard and protect the people of a country, but even with a good person in charge, that role could get twisted, and—

He’d prefer if none of his children ever have to suffer the disillusionment he did.)

He forces himself to smile and ruffles Selim’s hair. “Good! Your old man is full of good advice, you know!”

“Is that why Uncle Roy is always calling you?” Selim asks with wide eyes.

“Yep! He’d never get anywhere without me,” Hughes brags, going ahead and pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“He has Aunt Riza though,” Selim points out, climbing onto a chair and sitting there, with his legs swinging underneath him.

“Yeah—if you took both of us away, that’d be pretty bad,” Hughes admits, sipping his coffee. “Still, we aren’t going anywhere, don’t you worry, kiddo!”

“I’m not worrying,” Selim says with a sunny smile, before glancing out the window again. “Can I meet the chibi alchemist Papa, pleeeeeease?”

“You really like the Fullmetal Alchemist, huh?” Hughes chuckles, setting his cup down. “I’ll see what I can do—and I’ll have to tell Uncle Roy that he isn’t your favorite alchemist anymore.”

“They’re all my favorites!” Selim says cheerfully.

Hughes does manage to wrangle a meeting after the clean-up is done, distracting Roy from haranguing him by asking where his teenage charge is.

“Sulking with his brother about his loss, probably,” Roy shrugs as Riza hands him a clean handkerchief. “I’m the last person he wants to see, so I won’t be going with you if you want to meet him—Lieutenant, maybe you can go?”

Riza nods and says quietly, “That would probably be wise. Lieutenant Colonel if you would follow me—and are you bringing Selim along as well?”

“Yes, he’s a big fan!” Hughes grins as Selim looks up pleadingly.

“Well, I’m sure he’ll like that,” Riza chuckles softly as she leads them down the hallways until loud complaints can be heard drifting down the hall.

“I nearly had him, Al! Right there! If he just didn’t have an extra glove—! Eaurgggghh!”

“It’s okay, big brother! Now you know, and you’ll definitely get him next time! If there is a next time…”

“I’LL GO YELL AT KING BRADLEY MYSELF IF I HAVE TO GET A REMATCH WITH THAT SMUG—”

Riza interrupts the tirade with a light cough as the blonde teenager whirls around. “Edward Elric, Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes and his son, Selim Hughes. Lieutenant Colonel and Selim, Edward Elric.”

Selim regards the teenage alchemist solemnly then opens his mouth and cheerfully says, “Wow, you looked much taller from the stands!”

A vein almost immediately pops out on Edward’s head, “WHO ARE YOU CALLING A SHORT MINISCULE PIPSQUEAK WHO IS A SPECK, YOU LITTLE SNOT-NOSED BRAT! YOU’RE NOT EVEN THAT TALL—”

“But I’m only nine, but you’re 15, so shouldn’t you be a lot taller?” Selim cuts in before Hughes can open his mouth ( who was this punk calling a brat ), blinding his eyes innocently and turning to the hulking suit of armor nearby as Edward froths in rage. “Or wait—are you actually the Fullmetal Alchemist?”

“Oh no, I’m Al—Alphonse Elric, Ed’s younger brother,” the suit of armor explains in a high pitched voice.

“Wow, you’re so cool!” Selim says admiringly, knocking against Al’s suit of armor, and a hollow echo sounds out, along with an odd ‘ mew ’ sound. “Was that…a cat?”

“Oh no—Al, again ?” Ed demands, his head whipping around as he glares at his younger brother.

Al holds up his hands, the lights in his eyeholes oddly pleading. “It’s—it’s just for a little while, big brother! They looked so sad in the rain…”

“You can’t keep collecting cats, Al! We never know what to feed them, we’re always on the move, they make your armor smell weird, and I’m always worried they’re going to mess something up—”

“They don’t make me smell weird! You’re the one that smells weird!”

“ What? You take that back! You don’t even have a nose right now!”

(Good god, they really were just kids.

And—Roy had mentioned that the person they had tried to bring back was their mother, right?

Where was their dad in all this?

He didn’t seem to be around at all, and Roy at least had never mentioned him—

Hughes really has some choice words for this guy if he ever meets him.)

“Well—I don’t know about a lot of cats, but I’m sure Selim and my daughter Elicia would love one!” Hughes cuts into the Elric brother fight.

Al turns around, the lights in his eyes shining as his massive hands clasp together. “Would you really?” he breathes.

“Yeah!” Hughes glances over at Selim, “You’d like a cat, wouldn’t you, Selim?”

Selim blinks then smiles. “Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

It turns out that oddly enough the calico kitten utterly despises Selim, hissing and flailing as soon as he tries to hold him, but besides that complete craziness, “Quilt” as he is dubbed starts purring and rolling around on his back, showing his stomach and absolutely adores Elicia, running to her as soon as she toddles through the door.

Selim just shrugs at this. “Makes sense. If I were Quilt, I’d choose Elicia too.”

Hughes tears up at that, sniffling and loudly declaring, “We’ll get you a puppy who adores you too, Selim! Quilt obviously has some trauma after living on the streets—how else could he not love you?”

Selim just looks at him and laughs. “It’s okay, Papa,” he says with a wide grin. “I won’t have time soon for a pet anyway.”

It’s true enough, what with Selim just a few years away from junior high, and he supposes that if Selim doesn’t want a puppy, then they shouldn’t get him a puppy.

(He still tries taking him to the pet store though, just to see if anything catches his eye.

He had thought maybe like a gerbil or a fluffy rabbit maybe, but instead Selim pauses on a shadowy looking fish, and for some reason decides to buy that.

Selim must really love it though because that fish has its tank all to itself and survives for years , despite Hughes and Gracia expecting to have to buy a replacement within a month.)

The Elric brothers also become regular guests at their house whenever they have to come to Central—at first it was just to see Quilt and offload other kittens (maybe the armor is laced with catnip or something—all of Hughes’ subordinates run away now whenever they see him hauling a box in because they are absolutely sure it’s going to be more kittens he’s going to guilt them into taking care of), but obviously these boys aren’t eating well on the road so Hughes has to make sure they eat a healthy homecooked meal (it’s besides the fact that Al can’t eat—Ed seems to eat enough for both of them), and how could Gracia look at these practically orphaned boys and not offer them a warm room to stay in, and Elicia is shrieking with delight that there are new people staying with them, and Selim is of course ecstatic to get the Full Metal Alchemist under their own roof.

It’s a bit of a change, taking care of two rowdy teenage boys in addition to his two little angels, but it’s still quite rewarding—both he and Gracia exchange fond smiles when they catch Ed sprawled over their couch, snoring with a book against his face while Al plays with Quilt.

He even does his best to help the Elric brothers on their quest for the Philosopher’s Stone, letting them know about any leads he finds.

Which is how the two of them learn about Shou Tucker, much to his regret. 

Chapter Text

Pride had just been sweeping an idle eye over Shou Tucker’s house, checking to see if the Elric brothers had decided to make their way over there again (they had seemed rather shaken up about Tucker’s little experiment—Pride isn’t really sure why , that was one of the shoddiest chimeras he had ever seen, and it wasn’t like they could learn anything from it, but Father told him to keep an eye on precious human sacrifices, so he did), when he suddenly senses the flicker of some very familiar energy.

The energy of the Ultimate Shield.

Greed.

(Pride doesn’t really get along with any of his siblings—none of them respect him as the eldest and wisest and most powerful as they should—but Greed he especially despises.

Children should obey their parents, not run off because their parent’s plan gets in the way of their own worldly, selfish, stupid desires.

Pride had wanted to hunt him down as soon as he had run off, but Father had said that there was no rush since the plan didn’t actually require Greed’s assistance anyway, and that Greed would inevitably turn up again.

As always, Father is right.)

He immediately sends his shadow hurtling after that sign (it’s a good thing he had managed to concoct some idiotic story about how he had really wanted to visit East City in order to get Hughes to bring him along for this business trip), and is surprised to find that it’s coming from inside Shou Tucker’s house.

(Why is Greed here?

There should be of nothing that interests him in that pathetic waste of an alchemist’s house—no money, no gems, no women, just a strange malformed little chimera—)

Pride pauses as he notices a woman with strange tattoos and a shorter man with a sword walking with his sibling through the halls of the house. Both humans have rather odd auras.

(Human chimeras—ones put together much more skillfully than Tucker’s disaster.

A….snake and a dog, if he is reading them correctly.

So—has Greed taken to collecting chimeras now?

He must have gotten bored of money and women—it was very like Greed.

Then—he was here for Tucker’s sad excuse of a chimera?

He must have expanded his collection quite far to want even that .)

The shorter man stops, sniffing the air.

“What is it, Dolcetto?” Greed asks affably, looking around the house with his hands on his hips.

“…someone else is here. An Ishvalan, I think. And there’s—I don’t know, something else feels strange…”

“Well, we’d better get that chimera and get out after that, then,” Greed says, picking up the pace. “Dolcetto, you grab her and go—Martel and I deal with the Ishvalan.”

(An Ishvalan?

In the house of a state alchemist, albeit, one who was soon to lose his title?

….could it be that scarred serial killer who Hughes had been worrying over as of late?

Perhaps he can hold back on grabbing Greed for a bit just to check—Father hadn’t been pleased about someone running around outside of his control who could end up targeting precious sacrifices.)

“Huh? Why me?” Dolcetto demands running after Greed and presumably the woman who was named Martel.

“Because she’s part dog, right? And you’re part dog, so maybe that’ll calm her down?” Greed reasons.

Martel opens her mouth, “Pretty sure it doesn’t work like that boss—”

“Aw man!” Greed says loudly as they walk into a room where what was probably Shou Tucker lies in a pile of exploded blood and gore, and a dark-skinned, white-haired man with an X-shaped scar on his forehead jerks his outstretched hand away from the malformed chimera. “I wanted to ask this guy some questions before ripping him apart! Sad…well, mystery man, back away from my newest chimera, and you’ll be fine.”

The man stands up slowly, the light glinting off of his dark sunglasses as he flexes his hand. “ Your chimera? You commissioned this?”

“No, but since I heard someone made one, I may as well collect her,” Greed shrugs, looking over the scarred man’s shoulder at the chimera. “….huh. Not as well put together as I was expecting…may need to find another alchemist to fix this or something…still, let’s take her and go, we’ll figure it out later.”

“…I don’t know who you are, but I don’t think I should let you go,” the man says slowly, reaching out, “I will end this creature’s misery, and then I will see about you—”

Martel slips past him as fast and fluidly as the snake that she must have been combined with, and Dolcetto unsheathes his sword as Greed throws back his back and laughs.

“Oh, you can try,” he says dismissively before his hand is covered with the Ultimate Shield, and he sends the scarred man flying with a punch as Dolcetto slashes out, and all three of them take off running.

“Boss—should we disable that guy first?” Dolcetto shouts as something explodes behind them.

“Oh, you have more things to worry about than that, Greed,” Pride says before Greed can reply, letting his eyes open wide in the shadows around them.

Everyone freezes, including the scarred man who seems to have just disintegrated the door with his hand (…interesting, maybe he should also grab him for Father to examine).

Greed purses his mouth and says while gesturing for his chimera underlings to go. “….Pride the Arrogant. What an unpleasant surprise. Can we reschedule the family reunion for, oh, maybe next century or so? Two hundred years without seeing your creepy eyes has not been nearly long enough—oh god, Envy isn’t here too, are they? That’d be a real mood-killer when I’m trying to recruit someone here…”

“Just me, Greed. But never fear, I’ll give you the whole family reunion you’ve been longing for,” Pride says, reaching his shadows out. “Father has been kept waiting long enough.”

Greed groans as the Ultimate Shield spreads across his entire form, “Still answering to daddy dearest, Pride? Will you ever grow up? Oh right—you can’t. ”

Pride grits his teeth (how dare Greed talk to him like that ), reaching out to grab him right when he hears a door open, and Hughes’ voice float through, “Now I’ll be right here this entire time, you boys got that? I’m still not sure if it’s the right thing to let you see them again, but anything you can do for that poor girl— holy shit, what the fuck— Ed and Al, you stay back, there’s blood here—I’m going to go investigate—”

(Oh shit.

He can’t rampage around and capture Greed with Hughes here—he’s definitely going to notice homunculi running about, and even if he doesn’t know what they are, that’s going to bring up a lot more questions than Hughes and more importantly, Mustang should have at this stage.

So—as much as it kills him to do so, he should probably just let Greed run off with his newly acquired chimera to add to his collection.

He can just make a sweep later to figure out where he has been hiding this whole time.

Then—there’s this serial killer with some very kind of strange alchemy now in the path of one of Father’s precious human sacrifices.

Grabbing him would result in the same amount of mess that grabbing Greed would result in, but he has some doubts about Hughes and the Elric brothers facing off against someone who has managed to successfully kill off so many state alchemists.

…he’s going to have to call in reinforcements and stand by.)

Greed has already taken advantage of his split in attention to hightail off with his merry little band of chimeras, leaving only the scarred man staring at him as he withdraws enough of himself back into his child’s body to pad over to the telephone and dial the number for Mustang’s office.

“Maes, I don’t need to hear about what genius thing Selim did this time, I’m actually busy trying to track down a killer—”

“Uncle Roy! Papa has been gone for awhile…he and the Fullmetal chibi went to see Nina’s house! Papa didn’t want me to go, but I followed a little and—and I think I saw a weird scarred man following after them? Uncle Roy, can you go check?”

He hears Mustang take a sharp breath in at the other end of the receiver, “….crap. Yes, don’t worry Selim, we’ll be right over there to check.”

“Thanks Uncle Roy!” he chirps before hanging up and flowing straight back to the Tucker household where things do not seem to be going very well.

The scarred man does have a few knives stuck in him, but they don’t seem to phase him much, and Al’s armor is already halfway dissolved, while Ed’s automail arm is hanging on by a shred.

Hughes is standing in front of both boys, knives in his hands, one arm dangling somewhat uselessly (broken most likely), blood seeping down from the top of his head where it seems he knocked into something (concussion definitely), and glaring at the scarred man whose sunglasses have been knocked off, revealing the distinctive Ishvalan red eyes.

“Stop going after these kids,” Hughes urges, baring his knives, “They had nothing to do with the war—while me, I’m a veteran. I have the blood of your people on my hands.”

The scarred man bares his teeth as he snarls and lunges forward, “You’re first —”

(Hughes will die facing off against this Ishvalan man with strange alchemy in his hand.

That’s not acceptable.

Because—because Hughes dying will definitely lead to Mustang going on a rampage, and that will certainly disrupt Father’s plan and the schedule for the Promised Day, so—

So Pride will have to take matters into his own hands for now.

Subtly though—just until Mustang gets here.)

Pride simply lets one of his shadows tug at the scarred man’s ankle, causing him to stumble enough so Hughes can slash at him with one of his knives.

The scarred man’s eyes narrow as he looks down at the shadows. “…and now even demons fight for your Amestris. That is not surprising.”

Hughes frowns, shifting so he can block Ed and Al from view. “Demons? What demons?”

“The shadows here have eyes—”

Bang.

The door explodes open, with that weakling Armstrong already having stripped his shirt off, as Mustang fires off a warning shot and walks in, surrounded by his team.

“You really have been on a royal tear, Scar,” Mustang says, glancing over at Hughes before focusing on the scarred man again. “Still, it’s good that we got a tip. I’m taking you into custody for being the culprit behind a string of State Alchemist killings.”

Scar sneers. “Alchemists are those who change things from their natural form into something grotesque. That is to say, they profane God, the creator of all things. As an agent of God, I am he who hands down his judgement. If you interfere, I will eliminate you as well.”

As Mustang strides forward to meet his challenge, only to be kicked away by Hawkeye who reminds him that he’s useless on rainy days, and Armstrong instead starts to take on the scarred man, Pride simply makes sure that someone seems to be looking over Hughes—and Ed and Al.

(Good, all potential human sacrifices were pretty much safe and secure.

If he’s lucky, maybe Mustang will even successfully apprehend this Scar, and then Pride can later slip into his cell and take him to Father to be examined.

Now—for Greed.)

Sweeping across the city, he catches a faint aura heading away at—the train station. Checking the train schedule, it seems the only train at this time was heading to…Central.

But Greed wouldn’t go to Central where Father is—he’d probably swap trains or get off at a stop before then.

Cross-referencing other parts of the train schedule, he figures out that there’s a transfer along this route, headed towards Dublith.

(Greed could still transfer to other cities, but that was still a start.

He should probably only inform Father after actually ascertaining Greed’s actual whereabouts though—Father would not be pleased to hear how he had actually let Greed slip through his grasp.

He’ll just let Wrath know to investigate over there—sadly, his powers didn’t extend that far, and he doubted that Hughes would be able to take leave or get sent on a business trip there anytime soon.)

Satisfied with his findings, he peeks back into the Tucker house. The street outside had been completely ruined, with Scar nowhere to be seen, and Mustang has propped Hughes up to walk him over to a stretcher, murmuring to him in a low voice as Hughes weakly struggles to stand up on his own and gestures over to where the Elric brothers have already been set on stretchers.

(Hm.

Sadly, Mustang’s efficiency isn’t as high as he had hoped for—but then again, it is sadly, a rainy day, which means that muscle-bound coward Armstrong probably bore the brunt of the fight.

Pity—he’ll definitely have to let Father know about him.

They can’t have random human sacrifices getting killed by a madman before the Promised Day after all.

And besides, Lust and Gluttony need something to do besides plot how to best take his place and eat random junk in the sewers.)

“How did you even know to come check on us?” Hughes wheezes as a medic hurries over to shine a light in his eyes and examine his arm (given the way he’s breathing, Pride is putting even odds on something being wrong with his ribs as well).

“Your son followed after you, apparently caught sight of ‘a weird scarred man’, got scared, and decided to run to a telephone on his short legs to call me,” Mustang replies, pushing him down when he tries to shoot up.

“Selim?! What the hell was Selim—where is he? Is he alright? ” Hughes immediately asks, struggling against the medic’s hold.

“Selim appears to be back at the hotel,” Hawkeye answers quietly, appearing at Mustang’s side. “I called the staff to check in on him—they said he was fine, just a bit worried I suppose, since he was just staring at a wall.”

Hughes sinks back down into the stretcher, nearly boneless as the medic continues to examine him. “Oh—good. Could you—could you call him and make sure he knows me and the Elric brothers are alright?”

“Done, but that kid must be so much more athletic than I thought to get from around here back to the hotel that fast,” Mustang frowns looking around.

Hughes scowls at him. “Selim is a very energetic and healthy boy!”

“An energetic and healthy boy who somehow managed to catch sight of Scar before you guys ever did, despite you saying that he went into the house first…strange,” Mustang notes.

(Crap, he always forgets how smart Mustang is.

Still—even if the time doesn’t exactly match up, there’s no way they’d suspect cute little Selim Hughes, would they?)

“I’ll ask him when I get back,” Hughes shrugs, then winces in pain. “…after I get treated—is my arm broken? It feels broken.”

“It’s definitely broken,” Mustang replies dismissively, flicking a glance over to the Elric brothers. “Still—you’re better off than the Elrics. Ed’s arm looks completely busted—he’s going to have to see his automail tech for that.”

Hughes brightens up a bit. “Ohhh~~ Is he going to go home and see Winry? I haven’t met her yet, but she sounds like a great girl! Maybe some romance will finally blossom there~~”

“You need to stop talking like a gossipy old aunt, it’s super creepy,” Mustang informs him, and then they’re off bickering again, and Pride thinks he can stop monitoring them for now.

Pride has managed to contact Father and coordinate with Lust and Gluttony (mostly Lust—although she’s getting a little too comfortable as a commander in his opinion) to track down Scar and eliminate him as soon as possible (probably the sewers, he thinks—he’ll do a sweep himself later, but he won’t be able to stay in this city that long, so Lust and Gluttony will have to perform most of the search themselves down in the stink, so sad) and arranged himself so it looks as though he’s half-heartedly reading a book, letting his legs kick beneath his chair by the time Hughes stumbles in, half supported up by Mustang.

“Papa!” he calls out, adding a thread of worry to his voice and widening his eyes as he rushes over. “Papa, you’re hurt!”

“I’m alright Selim—are you okay?” Hughes says, heavily sitting down on a bed while reaching out to examine Pride. “Uncle Roy says you followed me out—that’s really dangerous, son!”

“But I wanted to see that Nina and Alexander all of you were talking about!” Pride lies in protest, adding a wobble to his lip for good measure. “Are they okay?”

“They’re—well—we’re looking for them,” Hughes says helplessly, exchanging a look with Mustang.

Mustang sits backwards in a chair and props his hands on the back of the chair, looking at Selim. “So—where exactly did you see the scarred man, Selim? You said he was following after them?”

“I’m not sure,” Pride shakes his head sadly. “It’s a bit of a blur—he was so scary looking—maybe I saw him in the window? I just—I just felt really scared, so I ran to call you—”

“You ran all the way back to the hotel?” Mustang’s eyes are narrowed. “You must have moved pretty fast—”

“Roy, can I ask you why you’re asking Selim all these questions?” Hughes interjects, placing a hand on Pride’s shoulder. “He saw Scar somewhere—panicked because yeah, that guy does look scary, and called you and saved me, isn’t that enough?”

“It would give me a better picture of the scene and where Scar came from and where he’s hiding now if Selim could remember exactly where he saw him,” Mustang replies steadily.

Pride lets his eyes tear up (take that Mustang). “I—I—I really don’t know! I just—I just saw him and—I was so scared —”

Hughes immediately pulls Pride into a hug and glares at Mustang. “Good job Roy, real good job there, terrifying little children into submission, putting those interrogation skills into great use there. What innocent would you like to interrogate next? Al whose missing half of his armor? Ed who is down to one working arm?”

Roy looks somewhat chagrined, holding up his hands. “Sorry, sorry—hey, sorry Selim, it’s just—your dad was in a pretty bad situation there, and it’s great—beyond great that you managed to think quickly enough to call me, but that bad man is still out there. Don’t you want to help us catch him?”

Pride sniffles, scrubbing at his face with the back of his hand. “Y-yes…if—if I remember anything, I’ll definitely tell you, Uncle Roy!”

(Not that he will have to.

No matter what strange alchemy or grudge this Scar has, Lust and Gluttony will make short work of him.)

Soon after, the Elric brothers arrive since they are also Scar’s potential targets, and even though Ed heavily protests it, Mustang assigns guards all around their hotel rooms before heading off himself.

“Stupid Mustang—we can totally take care of ourselves!” Ed protests, flopping against the bed.

“You are down to one arm, big brother…” Al says doubtfully.

“But I at least figured out what he was doing!” Ed retorts. “He’s basically just using alchemy himself—stopping before the actual creation process. What a hypocrite…”

“He has his reasons, I’m sure,” Hughes says tiredly, cleaning his glasses. “The war was—bad.”

(Hughes has never talked about the Ishval Civil War—or to be more accurate, the Ishvalan War of Extermination, but he doesn’t have to for Pride to know what happened there.

He was there observing things after all, unobtrusively, from the shadows, whenever Sloth didn’t need monitoring, intervening when necessary to make sure that the conflict would be bloody and soaked in misery enough to become an Intersection.

It was far from the first time—this was the last of the Intersections that was needed, outside of all their preparations in Central—and as always, it had been laughably easy to push the humans into conflict.

All that bloodshed and misery—all Envy had to do was fire a shot at a child and Wrath give the orders, and then all the humans were perfectly content to go mad all on their own.

All they needed was an excuse.

Although—he supposes that Mustang and Hughes did get something different out of that experience.

They didn’t break like that weakling Armstrong or Marcoh—they actually wanted to change things.

As if anyone could change Father’s plan.

The arrogance of some people.

Still—he did have to admit that it was—not admirable because there is nothing admirable about humans, but somewhat amusing that even after seeing all the horrors war could offer, they still thought they could change anything.)

They are all quiet for a bit before Selim opens his mouth and says, “So, O-Chibi, you’re going to head back home?”

“WHO ARE YOU CALLING A TINY ITTY BITTY MIDGET YOU FU—!” Ed immediately yells, hopping off of the bed and breaking the glum silence.

Hughes also at almost the same time points a finger at Ed and glares at him. “Language Ed! And my son is not a brat—he’s a little angel! The same as Elicia! Oh right—you guys haven’t seen Selim and Elicia’s latest class photos, have you? Elicia just started preschool, so she was so excited—and Gracia gave Selim such a fetching little hat for that day, I have some copies here—”

“You know what we don’t have anything of, Ed?” Al says loudly as Hughes scrambles for his wallet. “Any photos of Pinako and Winry with us!”

“That’s because every time we go home, Winry is too busy attempting to murder me with a wrench for screwing up her precious automail,” Ed grumbles, rubbing the back of his head.

Selim can practically see Hughes’ ears perk up. “Ohhhh, she gets worried when you get hurt, does she?”

Ed stares blankly at him. “When the automail she made for me gets busted up, yeah.”

“Ah, young teenage love,” Hughes muses, a dopey smile on his face. “I met Gracia when we were teenagers you know—older than you, but still. She wasn’t quite sure what to make of me at first, but I swept her off her feet not too long after—you said you guys were childhood friends right? You probably don’t need too much advice since you should know what she likes then, but if you ever need someone to ask—”

“WINRY IS NOT MY GIRLFRIEND!” Ed protests, his face tomato red. “She’s just my mechanic!”

Hughes snorts. “Mechanic, is that what they’re calling it these days… Selim, whenever you have someone you like, make sure just to tell them directly, it’ll save you a lot of trouble in the long run.”

“Of course, Papa,” Selim says sunnily, kicking his feet back and forth under the chair. “I won’t be dumb like the shortie here!”

“Why you little—!”

The Elric brothers create a fairly lively ruckus that seem to distract Hughes enough from dwelling on things or asking Selim any pressing questions (it had been perhaps too hasty of him to call Mustang like that, but speed had been of the essence there to protect precious human sacrifices), and the next day, they head off to their hometown with that coward Armstrong guarding them and a promise to be back by Elicia’s birthday party.

In the meantime, Hughes helps him brainstorm what to get Elicia for her birthday. Hughes has of course plans for impractically enormous stuffed animals, but Pride can do better than that—he has carefully written down all his shadow puppet stories into a leatherbound book that Hughes simply gushes over.

“Amazing, Selim!” he praises as he flips through it. “You definitely could be a writer someday! Or even right now! Do you want your mother to ask around about publishers? I’m pretty sure there’s a few in her book club…”

“No need, it’s just for Elicia!” Selim beams up at him.

(There’s no need to look for publishers when the Promised Day is so soon.

Soon enough he will need to prod Wrath into sending Hughes and the family off to Xing or somewhere else that’s as distant.

With Hughes out of the way, they can simply apprehend Hawkeye as well, and then Mustang will be isolated and alone.)

“Still, you’re so imaginative, Selim,” Hughes muses as he reads through one of the stories. “Pirates and mermaids and wizards—where do you get all these ideas?”

“Other books and stuff,” Pride shrugs, “Elicia helps too—the fairies and mermaids were her idea.”

“Of course, both my children are geniuses after all!” Hughes coos, carefully setting the book aside. “And so athletic as well—being able to run all the way from the Tucker house to the hotel is no small feat, even if you were in mortal fear for your life!”

“I don’t really remember,” Pride replies, instantly on guard. “It’s all kind of a blur…”

Hughes hums. “Makes sense. It must have been terrifying—catching a glimpse of Scar in that alleyway right before he entered the house—”

“Maybe—maybe I saw him in the house before you guys went in?” Pride interrupts, his face screwed as if in concentration (he can fix up the story here a bit at least—and not fall for whatever trap Hughes is setting up here—the man is an intelligence officer for a reason after all). “In the window—just a flash.”

Hughes nods slowly, his eyes intent on Pride. “Did you happen to see anyone else in the house at the time? Because Nina is still missing, and we don’t think Scar was the one who absconded with her.”

Pride shakes his head, letting his eyes well up for good measure. “Sorry Papa, I don’t think I saw anything…”

“Aw, shh, shh, shh, it’s okay—here,” Hughes says, engulfing Pride in a warm hug. “You’re already doing such a good job—anything you can remember is great, okay kiddo?”

“Okay,” Pride nods tearily and sniffles a bit to drive his pitiful appearance home. “I’ll—I’ll try to tell you anything I can remember, Papa!”

“That’s my boy,” Hughes says, ruffling his hair. “Never forgets a thing!”

(If he only knew.)

Hughes wants to keep fussing over him after that, but Pride plays up his need for quiet to keep up his studies (calling what the humans make him learn in school “studies” is laughable, but he digresses), and Hughes agreeably goes down to the lobby to go bother Mustang some more.

In the meantime, Pride can finally focus on overseeing Lust and Gluttony’s hunt.

Unfortunately, by the time he turns his attention to them, Lust informs him that while they did manage to corner Scar in the sewers, the man had then collapsed the tunnel and escaped.

“ Escaped? ” he hisses, his shadows thrashing about.

Lust barely looks up from where she’s examining her claws. “Yes, but we got some substantial hits on him, so he should die of blood loss even if he gets away.”

“‘Should’ is not nearly good enough, Lust,” he snarls, glaring at her with his many eyes. “I just knew I shouldn’t have left the search to you—”

“But you did since you’re so busy playing a human child these days,” Lust says with a toss of her hair before she gives him a sly look. “You could have consumed him right when you saw him, why didn’t you?”

“Hughes was there, it would have blown my cover.”

“Hughes….yes,” Lust says, tapping a finger to her chin. “A smart, wily operator to be sure, but don’t tell me Pride the Arrogant couldn’t have thought of a way to deceive him while still ensuring that this new threat to Father’s sacrifices is eliminated?”

“Obviously, but I didn’t see the need at the time since I had thought that you would be capable of dealing with the threat yourself, but alas, all your time spent in the sidelines must have weakened your abilities,” Pride replies, letting his shadows drag closer to Lust. “I sadly overestimated my siblings again. I wonder if you are really of any use anymore…”

“Oh Pride, you’re always mistaken,” Lust says sweetly. “And need I remind you, I do all the work you can’t, stuck in your little shell as a tiny human spy. I eliminate, I destroy, and I infiltrate—really, you could almost say I’m Father’s right hand these days.”

“You presume much to call any of us part of Father,” Pride hisses, looming over her. “Father is Father, and we follow his will in all things, as children should, and we are all fulfilling our part of his plan. Or are you like Greed, now thinking above your station?”

Lust recoils, her mouth pursing a bit. “I am nothing like that traitor.”

“Good, then you would do well to remember it,” Pride booms, “I will not be able to stay in East City much longer, but you and Gluttony scour the city. Find Scar’s body to bring to Father, or I will have to bring up your subpar performance to Father himself.”

Lust’s eyes narrow. “Try it. Then I’ll have to ask what you have been up to this entire time—surely while pretending to be a child and snooping in on conversations, the eldest of us could spare some time to have made a sweep himself?”

(….he should have.

He had been a bit preoccupied reassuring Hughes and writing out Elicia’s birthday gift though.

Not that he’s going to admit that to Lust.)

“It is not your place to question me, second-born,” he booms, writhing up to his full height and letting his maw open wide for a second. “I have been busy with important matters that are vital to the Promised Day, and that is all you need to know.”

“…fine,” Lust says, drawing away, a scowl on her face. “Very well—then let’s go our separate ways and carry out Father’s plan as always, shall we?”

Pride doesn’t even deign to answer that, starting to recede back to his shell.

“But Pride,” Lust calls out, letting one of her claws extend out to play with her hair. “Remember—if wily Maes Hughes gets too close to the truth, you will need to contact us to make sure he’s taken care of cleanly.”

“As if I need you to remind me of that,” he scoffs as he at last returns to his shell and frowns at the open history textbook on his desk.

(Lust is acting above her station, thinking that Pride would actually permit Hughes to get too close to anything about Father’s real plan.

He’s an information officer, yes, and Mustang’s main source of news, but in the end he is just human, and Pride has done a good job making sure certain files go missing from his study or office at opportune times.

He’ll just have to make sure that Wrath keeps the Xing trip for the Hughes family away from Lust—she’ll apparently just get the wrong idea.)

There’s a knock on the door, and Pride quickly props up the textbook and scribbles a few random notes on the notebook beside it. “Come in!”

Hughes pokes his head in and beams at him, “Sorry to bother you kiddo, but we’re probably going to start heading to the train station in like an hour or two. You about to wrap up your studies soon?”

“Done!” he beams right back at Hughes, setting the textbook aside and hopping off of the chair. “I can’t wait to see Mama and Elicia again!”

“Aw, I also can’t wait to see them again, I’ve missed them so much!” Hughes says, scooping up Pride into a hug. “And they’ve also missed you so much!”

“I know,” Pride says, securing his arms around Hughes’ neck and putting up with his scratchy beard against his cheek. “Elicia sounded so sad…”

“She’ll be better when you get home and won’t tell sad stories to your goldfish anymore,” Hughes reassures him, patting his head.

(Said goldfish has already been hollowed out to become another receptacle that Pride can stuff shadows into, and it comes in handy for observing the house and checking in on Elicia.

Sadly it can’t talk or anything, but he did hear her prattling stories told to both the fish and Quilt.

They’re all about her brave big brother, master of shadows and defender of princesses, always smart and knowing exactly what to do—and when he doesn’t, his parents, the loving King and Queen always do.

She’s not bad.)

“That’s good,” Pride replies, smiling up at him. “I can’t wait to give Elicia the best birthday party ever!”

(Nothing was going to ruin that, that was for sure.)

Chapter Text

Hughes would much rather be carefully picking the perfect giant stuffed animal to gift to Elicia on her birthday (Elicia does love teddy bears and cuddly octopuses, but was it possible that she would like a giraffe more ?) along with checking over the birthday plans (Gracia as ever has everything well in hand, but it never hurts to have a second pair of eyes checking over things), but unfortunately some degenerate had the gall to burn the First Branch of the National Central Library down, and now they were missing so many different court martial documents, along with who knew what else.

Thankfully, he now had Sheska, courtesy of the Elric brothers (they really were growing up to be fine young men, Roy should be proud), but she could only write so fast, so it was still a slow going process to restore their records.

And then there was that awful hunt for Scar.

(He has to say—he’s somewhat sympathetic towards the man.

His entire family wiped out, his nation destroyed, whatever pain and suffering he had personally endured—

Who wouldn’t go crazy after that?

And—in his heart of hearts—it’s not like some of the people who Scar had killed didn’t deserve to die—Tucker for example, Hughes would have liked to stab himself—

But he had also killed people like Basque Grand, and he had even wanted to try and kill Ed despite Ed having had absolutely nothing to do with the war.

Scar has to be stopped, that’s true—but he hopes to put him on trial and not have to kill him.)

The trail had gone cold, with just a jacket and a deadly amount of blood left in the sewers. Some people are tempted to say that maybe he had died, but that just leaves Hughes with more questions—firstly, who had managed to take him out? That man had been no slouch—even Armstrong couldn’t seem to land a solid hit on him. And second—where’s the body if he’s really dead?

He had seen Scar’s eyes—that was a man consumed by demons and who wouldn’t be able to rest until he achieved his goal.

Scar is just one more nightmare to join the rest of the ones he has of Ishval—although he still puzzles over what the man had said while fighting him.

What demons had he been talking about? Had he just been being metaphorical?

“The shadows have eyes”—what did that even mean?

…could it have anything to do with the strange figures Ed had said he’d seen in the creepy, now exploded, Fifth Laboratory?

And where was Nina?

(That’s what really haunts him—that poor little girl with a monster for a father.

He hadn’t really known what they could do for her when they had still known where she was. Roy had examined her and said that it would take an alchemist with far more knowledge of biological transmutation  than he had to fix her so she would be in less pain, much less undo it all.

But still—where was she now?

Scar hadn’t killed her—Shou Tucker’s body had been obviously dumped like bloody garbage, but Nina had just disappeared.

Had she run away?

But then why hadn’t they found her yet? She couldn’t move very fast, and if she was wandering around, someone was bound to have seen her by now.

And then there’s how Selim’s story doesn’t really line up with the timeline at all—

It’s all too strange.)

“Darling, do you think Ed and Al’s Winry would like to also be invited to Elicia’s birthday party?” Gracia asks, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Hughes comes out of his dark thoughts to beam at his wife. “Of course she would! How could anyone not want to come to our little angel’s celebration?”

Gracia smiles at him. “I suppose so—do you know where she’ll be staying?”

“I think Ed and Al wanted her to go to a hotel?” Hughes says, leaning back. “I did say they could all room together here, but Ed nearly blew his top off…”

Gracia lightly swats his shoulder. “Of course he would, Ed is a shy boy!”

“I don’t think anyone besides you has ever described him that way,” Hughes muses, rubbing his shoulder. “I’m just trying to give them a little nudge there—”

“I know you mean well, but they’ll have to figure things out at their own pace. ” Gracia gives him a look. “They will make an extremely cute couple some day, but they’ve got a bit of growing up to do in the meantime. They’re just 15 after all—that’s ridiculously young.”

“True, true,” Hughes says, patting her hand. “There’s plenty of time after all…we didn’t even meet each other until we were 19!”

“And then you didn’t convince me to date you until college. ” Gracia smiles back, giving his hand a squeeze. “If this is a preview of how you’re going to be when Selim and Elicia get older, remember—kids don’t like being matchmade.”

Hughes pulls a face. “Eugh—dating—can anyone really deserve our two precious babies? Can they really?”

“I’m sure someone will treasure them as much as we do,” Gracia replies with a soft smile, looking out into the distance. “How can they not?”

“…true,” Hughes says, but then adds, “Still—are there boys invited to Elicia’s birthday party? Any girls that she’s particularly close to?”

Gracia pins him with a stare. “Maes Hughes, you are not terrorizing any of Elicia’s friends at her birthday party.”

Hughes pulls a glum face but nods. “Alright, my dearest, I’ll try my best.”

“Good. ” Gracia nods. “We’re going to have enough trouble keeping all the kids together—and did Selim invite any of his friends?”

“I don’t believe so?” Hughes replies, sorting through the invitations on his desk. “He said it was Elicia’s special day, and that all the guests should be her friends.”

Gracia frowns slightly, her hand propping up her elbow as the other goes towards her cheek. “Maes—do you think—do you think Selim is bullied at school?”

Hughes goggles at her. “ Bullied? I always thought he was well-liked and admired at his school!”

“I thought so too, and all his teachers only ever have glowing things to say about him, but—well, haven’t you noticed how he never brings anyone back to the house? Or wants to go to a friend’s house to play?”

Hughes begins to frown too, moving his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Now that you mention it—but he always talks about friends at school! And you know, he has gone to a few birthday parties.”

“Ones where the entire class was invited over,” Gracia says, her fingers tapping against her cheek before she sighs. “I’m probably overthinking it—but I do wish he’d confide in us more about that awful orphanage he was at. I feel like maybe—I don’t know what happened there.”

“Yeah, but—he’s happy with us, right?” Hughes says, standing up and hugging her from behind. “And well—if it takes some time for him to want to invite friends over or tell us anything—that’s fine, we’ve got time after all, right?”

Gracia nods and then sighs, leaning back against him. “Yes.”

“And have you seen Selim order Elicia around?” Hughes asks teasingly, resting his head at the curve of her neck. “I’m fairly sure that anyone who tried to bully our son would have to watch his back.”

“Not the least because you’d be after them so fast, I wouldn’t even have time to call Roy to restrain you from threatening a child,” Gracia sighs then smiles.

“As if you wouldn’t have descended upon them too and have reduced them to tears with mere words,” Hughes adds with a grin, kissing her neck.

“…probably,” Gracia admits, reaching up and turning her head to give Hughes a proper kiss before gently detangling herself from him. “As much as I’d love to stay and see where this goes now that your ribs are finally fine and your arm is out of that sling, I have to go buy everything I need for the birthday cake and icing. I think I’ve also figured out how to make buttercream icing flowers so they look pretty but also taste good.”

“Yum,” Hughes grins and coos. “My wife is so talented~”

Gracia smiles before waggling her fingers at him. “You can show your appreciation for me tonight. Oh, and by perhaps making up the sofa in the living room. If Ed isn’t willing to share a room with Winry, then Winry can have the guest room while Ed and Al have the living room.”

“Sounds like a plan, and I can’t wait. ” Hughes grins at her.

(He really is such a lucky man.

He deserves none of it, but he endeavors to still be the husband and father that Gracia and Selim and Elicia all deserve.)

Winry is a nice cheerful girl, except apparently when confronted with broken automail, and then she has a wrench ready and sharp words to exchange with Ed. They bicker back and forth, barely stopping for breath even around the dinner table, as Al makes calming motions and apologetically says, “I’m sorry, they’re always like this. Especially after big brother breaks his arm…”

“IT WAS IN THE COURSE OF DUTY. IT HAPPENS!”

“THAT WAS MY MASTERPIECE, ED!”

“And I’m giving you the opportunity to make another, so really if you think about it, you should be thanking me instead—”

Winry looks on the verge of pulling out a wrench again when Gracia clears her throat and looks at all of them.

“Shall we start eating?” she asks sweetly, gesturing to the lovely dishes on the table. “I thought this would be a nice spread. I did spend all afternoon on it…”

Ed and Winry instantly look sheepish, Ed quickly digging in while Winry also takes a bite and says, “Oh, you really didn’t have to, Mrs. Hughes—oh wow this is good…”

“Gracia’s cooking is always the best!” Hughes beams at them and then sends a grateful look at his wife.

(At least now he knows that whenever Selim and Elicia become teenagers, Gracia will definitely know how to handle them.

Of course, Selim and Elicia will be much better behaved, he’s sure.)

“Shortie, in school we learned that you should eat more, or else you’ll never grow taller,” Selim informs Ed with a huge grin on his face. “At this rate, I might be able to grow taller than you soon!”

Ed clenches his fist around his fork, opens his mouth, sees Gracia smiling mildly at him, then closes his mouth and says through gritted teeth, “That’s very unlikely. Scientifically impossible.”

“Big brother will grow super tall!” Elicia cheers, beaming at Selim. “Almost as tall as Papa!”

She then turns to stare at Winry while Ed is busy fuming into his green beans. “Your earrings are pretty!”

“Aw, thanks. ” Winry beams at her, her hand going up to touch the studs there.

“Did they hurt?” Elicia persists.

Winry frowns and then makes a see-saw motion with her hand. “A little? Not too bad—getting it pierced is more like a prick of a needle—maybe a little like getting a shot? Then it aches a bit, but eventually you get used to it.”

Elicia rubs her ears with both her hands, shaking her head and whimpering a little. “…I don’t like getting shots…”

“It’s okay Elicia, we can get you clip-on earrings,” Selim says authoritatively, patting her hand. “They’ll be really pretty too!”

Elicia cheers up instantly, looking at her big brother. “Will you wear them too?”

“…sure,” Selim says magnanimously.

Ed snickers a bit. “You’re going to look great , Selim.”

“Of course, everyone has to join in on the fun,” Selim says with a smile, looking around at everyone at the table. “Right, Elicia?”

“Right!” Elicia cheers.

Which is how when the day of the birthday party dawns clear and bright (just like Elicia!), the entire Hughes household, plus the Elric brothers and Winry, are all wearing dangly clip-on earrings.

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Ed mumbles, looking at himself mournfully in the mirror.

“I think I look rather fetching!” Al says cheerfully, moving his massive hands up to the dangly pink clip-ons that Elicia had bestowed upon him.

“Both of you look great,” Winry smirks, with her hands on her hips before turning over to Gracia. “There’s a camera somewhere here, right?”

“As if Maes would ever let an opportunity pass for family photos,” Gracia says dryly, motioning over towards him. “We have a special deal for film given how much we end up buying and developing.”

Hughes immediately takes a picture of everyone gathered in front of the mirror, beaming while his aqua earrings swing. “My perfect family has to be immortalized through film!”

Elicia comes into the room, with Selim helping her push the door open, and she immediately has the cutest, biggest smile as soon as she spots everyone.

“Everyone looks so cool!” she says, her eyes shining.

“Hey, how come Selim isn’t wearing earrings?” Ed immediately complains, pointing at Selim.

Elicia quickly comes over to Gracia and holds up two sets of clip-on earrings, one red and one black. “Which one for Selim?”

“Hmm…they’ll both look good,” Gracia muses, crouching down to touch their daughter’s hair before turning to Selim. “What do you think, Selim?”

“Black,” Selim answers immediately, taking them from Elicia’s hand and clipping them on.

(Selim does have a tendency to gravitate towards black despite saying that red is his favorite color.

Hughes just hopes that whenever he goes through his possibly angsty teenage phase, he doesn’t try to paint his entire bedroom black. He feels as though that would be far too depressing for his mental health.

Maybe a dark violet instead?

Well—it wasn’t Selim’s birthday yet, it was Elicia’s, and it was her special day!)

“Yay, big brother looks cool now too!” Elicia claps her hands together in delight as she puts the red clip-on earrings onto her own ears. “Now we match!”

“Awwwww, you guys do! Smile guys!” Hughes coos as he takes aims his camera at them.

Selim instantly wraps his arms around Elicia to give a big hug, and there are many other photo-worthy moments like that throughout the entire party. There’s all of Elicia’s friends from school gathering around her, all fighting over who gets to wish her happy birthday first (Hughes is only prevented from shoving the boys to the back of the line by Selim declaring a competition of shadow puppets to see who goes first, and of course, Selim is the shadow puppet master), there’s the delight in all the kids’ eyes when they get a balloon (and he has photographic evidence that Ed was delighted for a split second as well), there’s the giant bouncy castle they have outside that all the kids (including Selim) seem to adore, running and jumping through it over and over again until they’re all tuckered out, there’s the absolutely massive three-tiered masterpiece of a chocolate cake with strawberries that Gracia had lovingly made and stuck three candles into, Elicia blowing out the candles and making a wish as everyone clapped, and of course, the massive pile of presents that Elicia has to open (Selim helps her the entire time, instructing her to use her nail to only open the gift along the tape that holds the wrapping paper together so that Gracia can later reuse the wrapping paper again).

And also, while the kids are all running around frantically having fun, and in between Hughes’ attempts to properly chronicle all that, he does manage to get in a few good talks with the Elric brothers and Winry.

Ed and Al seem to have figured out whatever issue was bothering them after the lab with what seemed to be a good dose of common sense from Winry. Winry seems to take comfort in that, confiding in him that she tends to worry about all the dangerous situations the boys get themselves into and then don’t tell her about.

“I know they don’t want to worry me—but sometimes it just makes me feel more worried,” Winry says, biting her lip.

“That’s true,” Hughes acknowledges, cleaning his glasses and watching Gracia as she laughs with some of the mothers who had arrived with their kids as she sets out some fruit punch. “…I try not to let Gracia worry too much either—but if there’s something really serious, I do tell her. It’s not good to handle things yourself, and I think Ed and Al know that too? They did end up telling you about Al’s confrontation with Barry the Chopper after all?”

Winry snorts. “They could hardly hide it, the way they were fighting…but yeah, I guess you’re right. Sorry for bothering you about all that, Mr. Hughes.”

“Please, advice is the least I can give!” Hughes says, waving her off. “Wow, that was some deep discussion—you should really go enjoy the party! Ed and Al look like they’re having fun!”

“Well, Al definitely is,” Winry comments, looking over to where Quilt is stuck on Ed’s head while Al lovingly strokes his fur. “I think Ed is just barely managing to not explode.”

“You know him so well!” Hughes twinkles at her, placing both of his hands by the side of his cheek.

Winry stares blankly at him. “Well—yeah. Both him and Al, we practically grew up together. It was a small town, and our families were close.”

(Damn, none of his hints seem to be getting anywhere with her.

Well, Gracia is probably right; certain things can’t be rushed.

He’ll just usher them together some more so maybe they can act more like teenagers at a party rather than kids who have had too many responsibilities heaped onto their shoulders too young.)

“I think you’d better go save Ed,” Hughes says decisively, glancing over at where Ed has fallen onto the grass. “Al is too much of a soft touch with cats.”

“As if you guys aren’t all so soft on Quilt—I’ve seen his food bowl, I think he eats better than some people,” Winry says laughingly, standing up.

“He’s a beloved part of the family!” Hughes insists as he walks over with Winry.

“He’s a monster, that’s what he is!” Ed declares, finally managing to pry Quilt off his face and holding him at arm’s length. “How do you even keep him near your kids???”

Al plucks Quilt out of Ed’s hands and cradles him. “Big brother, you just fought off monsters at a laboratory, how can you even compare them to Quilt?”

“Because those I could at least fight against—they definitely have something to do with alchemy with that symbol on them—Quilt however is a menace who even my own brother defends!” Ed shouts, half-heartedly kicking at Al’s leg with a clank.

“A symbol like an alchemy circle?” Hughes asks, “Kind of like Roy’s gloves so they don’t have to draw circles to do what they need to do?”

“No—not like that I don’t think,” Ed says, picking up a stick and drawing two symbols on the ground, one what looks like a snake devouring itself and the other a basic alchemy circle that even Hughes can recognize (it also—looks oddly familiar for some reason—it’s not really like Roy’s, that’s very specialized, but something else…). “See—they kind of look the same, but they’re not. Also I’m not even sure an alchemy circle could let them do all the things they did—that lady’s fingers just shot out like claws— ”

“Yeah, based on what you described, it really doesn’t sound like it follows the laws of equivalent exchange.” Al nods. “But if they had a Philosopher’s stone powering it—”

“Yeah, that might work—but that still wasn’t an alchemical circle,” Ed points out. “And I feel like she’d need an alchemical symbol on her hand anyway to do that, and it wasn’t on her hand, it was on her chest—”

“Why were you staring at her chest?” Winry asks in a mild tone.

“I wasn’t staring at it, it was just right there!” Ed protests hotly. “It was very obvious!”

“So,” Hughes quickly cuts in before Ed can dig any deeper of a hole for himself. “the alchemical circle would need to be on whatever she wanted to change to power whatever she wanted to do? So presumably—if she carried around an alchemical circle big enough that she was completely standing in it, she could change her entire body?”

“Well—yeah I guess she could, but like that’s a pretty big circle, and doesn’t sound super portable in a fight?” Ed replies.

“It could still be useful in a fight though if you had some big ones or something set up ahead of time,” Al argues, sitting back while petting Quilt. “You could even set a trap of sorts—get them to go inside the circle and then activate it.”

“You’d have to be close by to do it. ” Ed frowns. “And also the bigger the circle, the more it’s going to need to power it, so you’d have to be sure to also pile tons of stuff in the circle—and then what if something extra gets into it while it’s activated? That’d be a disaster—it’d kill whatever got in for sure in search of more things to power it up.”

(That for sure sounds like something Amestris would love to weaponize, and it’s surprising that they hadn’t done so already.

Since when did they ever care about collateral damage that got caught in the way?

They hadn’t cared in Ishval, and they certainly didn’t seem to care now in Reole with that conflict brewing over there, or in the Northern and Western clashes around the border—

Wait.

Ishval, Reole, then the North and the West—

If you thought of Amestris as a circle—which it roughly was—and the conflicts as points on the circle—wouldn’t it look approximately like the alchemical circle that Ed had just drawn?

But no—that would be crazy—

Something that big—what would it even be for ?)

“Are you okay, Mr. Hughes?” Al asks, peering at him worriedly. “You look a little pale…”

“I—I need to go check something—I’ll just go get Elicia up to bed, and then I need to make a call and then head out,” Hughes manages to say, quickly moving away and heading towards his daughter.

(It’s crazy, completely crazy—

He needs to check the records on Amestris’ various military conflicts, once he sees those, he can rest assured that it’s just his paranoid Intelligence officer brain throwing up weird ideas.

And if it’s not—

He’ll cross that bridge when he gets to it.)

He manages to pull on a smile to wave goodbye to Elicia’s little friends and take his darling daughter upstairs to get her all washed up and ready for bed, but he guesses he must be really rattled, because Gracia seems to notice something off.

“Are you alright?” Gracia asks, placing a hand on his back as he carries an all tuckered out Elicia to her bedroom.

“Yeah, I’m—something’s come up, and I’ve got to make a few calls and maybe go out to the office for a bit tonight,” Hughes says, setting Elicia down in her bed and tucking her in.

Gracia frowns. “…is it something serious?”

“I’m not sure—I hope not,” Hughes admits, reaching out to take both of her hands in his own before giving her a reassuring kiss on the cheek. “We’ll see—it may be nothing. Don’t worry about the trash from the party, I’ll tidy it up after I get back—”

“You go ahead, it’s obviously really worrying you,” Gracia says, reaching up to pat his chest. “Although I will leave the vacuuming for you to deal with—I really don’t feel like that right now.”

“As the organizer of the most perfect birthday party ever, of course you deserve nothing less than for the drudgery of vacuuming to be left to your husband,” Hughes answers with a smile, squeezing her hand before going to the phone.

After he gets off the call asking Sheska to go ahead and pull past Amestris major military actions for him in the records room (he’d feel bad, but she appears to basically sleep there), as he’s pulling on his coat, he’s stopped by Selim tugging on his sleeve.

“Where are you going Papa?” he asks, his dark eyes wide as he stares up at him. “Why do you need to go to the records room?”

Hughes crouches down so that they’re at eye-level. “Hey kiddo—there’s something I need to go look into there—it might be nothing, it’s okay.”

“…you’re not going to read me a story to sleep?” Selim asks, his eyes suddenly teary.

(Oh.

Damn, he can’t deny that request—it’s been a super long time since Selim has ever asked for a bedtime story.

Surely chasing ghosts and plots of conspiracies could wait an hour or so for his son?

…he’ll call Sheska and get her to organize it a bit more—maybe just read some stuff out over the phone—

No, that would get her too involved, better for him to leave no trace and just read through it himself.

Still—nothing is going to happen to those records—and even if something does, it’s not like there aren’t backups—Sheska herself could probably remember quite a bit.

And it is a mess in the house after the party, and he really should stay and clean a bit so Gracia doesn’t have to put up with a pigsty.

….first thing tomorrow then, no exceptions.)

“Of course I’ll read you a story!” Hughes says, immediately scooping up Selim (thankfully he’s still as light as ever—whenever he inevitably grows too big for Hughes to carry, he’s going to be very sad). “What would you like? Grimm’s? Or one of your own?”

Selim beams at him, “I think I’d like Tales From the Hinterland. ”

Hughes’ smile freezes slightly, but he simply nods and walks up the stairs to Selim’s room and grabs the creepy little book from the shelf. “Tales from the Hinterlands it is! Which story?”

He ends up reading the story of Alice Three Times and The Door that Wasn’t There (why Selim enjoys all these creepy stories he isn’t really sure—they’re fairly disturbing, and nothing like any of the stories that Selim wrote out for Elicia himself—but then again, Selim probably tailored the stories he wrote for Elicia since he was a good brother. These—well, when he gets older, Hughes is sure Gracia has plenty of horror novel recommendations for him) before Selim starts to look sleepy and yawns.

“Well then, time for bed, Selim,” Hughes says, putting the dark little book away while kissing Selim’s forehead and tucking him in. “Goodnight son.”

“Goodnight Papa. ” Selim yawns again, turning over. “Say good night to Mama for me…”

“I will,” Hughes says softly before petting Selim’s hair a bit and then getting up and heading downstairs to clean.

Gracia looks up as he comes down. “I thought I heard you up there—not going in for work?”

“Selim wanted some stories to be read to him, and I couldn’t resist,” Hughes says sheepishly. “I’ll go in the morning—it should be fine.”

“Aw,” Gracia coos, placing a hand by her cheek as she sets aside the cleaned trays. “Was it Tales From the Hinterlands again?”

“That very same creepy, creepy book that I still feel like wasn’t meant for children.” Hughes shudders.

“You just have no appreciation for horror.” Gracia shakes her head with a smile. “Some kids love scary stories!”

“And then they grow up to giggle through horror movies as their significant others cower in fear.” Hughes sighs forlornly.

“It’s good for you,” Gracia says seriously before her lips quirk up into a smile. “Well—if you’re sure that you don’t have a work emergency—have you talked to Roy about it?”

(He probably should but—

It’d be better in person, who knows who is listening on the phone.

And besides—all he has right now are just coincidences and strange happenings, nothing concrete.

Better not to spook Roy over nothing, he has enough on his plate as it is since he’ll probably be transferring over to Central soon.)

“I’ll talk to him later,” Hughes decides, throwing the last of the confetti and streamers into the trash. “When there’s something to actually say.”

“Alright,” Gracia says, placing a hand on his arm and leaning in. “In that case—the party was a success, the kids are all tucked in, so what do you say to the two of us also getting clean and having some fun?”

“How could I ever say no to that?” Hughes grins at his wife, pecking her on the lips while letting his own hand drift steadily lower on her back.

Gracia giggles, and he can almost pretend for a second they’re young, dumb, and back in college again.

(Ah, to not know the horrors of war and what you’re capable of when pushed too far, and you just want to survive long enough to get back home—

But then no one would try changing the system in that case perhaps.

It’s not worth all the lives lost and ruined in Ishval, but at least with Roy’s goal, there’s something to work towards, and a hope that justice will be served in the end, no matter what.

Hope that there could be people in charge who care more about the cost of human lives.

But even—even with all the horrors he saw in Ishval—even with every case he’s gone through as an intelligence officer—the sheer scale of what he’s considering with all of Amestris’ past conflicts might mean—

That couldn’t be possible, could it?

That much sheer disregard for anyone?

He’ll probably go through the papers tomorrow and then laugh at how paranoid he’s been thinking and call up Roy to schedule a celebratory drink for when he transfers over. It’ll be fine.)

--

Hughes reads the papers again for what must be the hundredth time and feels the mounting dread churning in his stomach.

(He keeps connecting the bloody dots, and they keep forming the same picture, even with some records missing.

One massive alchemicy circle around the entirety of Amestris.

But—

Why?

Who could possibly want that? What would that even accomplish? Wouldn’t that require the death of every single person within the circle, and then—what? Some kind of massive Philosopher’s Stone? Who would even be left to make use of it?

This is—this is way beyond him—what little he knows about alchemy has come from pure osmosis of having Roy as a friend and the Elric brothers staying at his house—he needs to get Roy’s take on this—)

The door slams, and he jerks up to see a dark haired woman in a form-fitting dress standing there and smiling at him.

(Dark hair, tattoo like the one Ed had drawn out for him—

Shit.)

“Pleased to finally meet you, Maes Hughes. ” She smiles, her teeth a startling white against the blood red of her lips. “Or should I say goodbye—”

He’s thrown a knife at her head before he’s even really thought about it, but her claws are fast , piercing into his shoulder even as he swerves away and hears a satisfying thunk.

(Does that kill these people though?

Or do you need to cut off the head or stake the heart like vampires or something—

Whatever, he needs to get out and tell Roy and the Führer what’s going on—)

He manages to hurry all the way towards his office, knives out and dripping blood everywhere (getting injured twice in the span of about a month—Gracia is definitely going to be worried), and has even managed to reassure his colleagues and pick up the phone to call Roy before he realizes—

(Anyone who can plan something on this scale—

Well, he doesn’t know how they did it without being extremely long lived—but who knows, maybe that’s what Philosopher Stones do if they’re big enough, he’s not the alchemist here—but they would have to be in control of the entire military to ensure that all this carnage would happen in all the correct locations.

There’s no way every single person in the ruling echelons of Amestris’ military council doesn't know about this.

Which means the Führer has for sure been compromised.

And that possibly every line here is tapped and any mention of this plan will get them all murdered faster than water dousing out Roy’s alchemy.

In fact—someone must already be watching, because how did that woman know—

He needs to find a public line outside and call Roy, and then the two of them can plan what to do next from there.)

He scrambles out as fast as he can, finds a telephone booth, and is busy arguing with an East City HQ telephone operator when he hears the click of a gun being cocked behind his head.

“Please hang up the phone, Lieutenant Colonel,” Second Lieutenant Ross’ mild voice rings out.

(Except—

Ross has a mole under her left eye, he remembers that, and this person—this person doesn’t.

Another one of those monsters?)

The—whatever it is laughs when he points that out, and splays her fingers out at her cheek as the skin shifts, and suddenly the mole appears. “Is that better?”

(… fuck.

What is this—some kind of shapeshifter or something?

At least it doesn’t have claws like the other one, or else it should have already been able to impale him.)

“Your quick wits have gotten you into a lot of trouble this time, Lieutenant Colonel Hughes,” the person says, holding the gun steady.

“Hey, hey, hey, give me a break,” Hughes says, carefully letting another knife slip down his sleeve into his hand. “I’ve got a wife and kids waiting for me at home… and I can’t afford to die!”

He spins around, fully intending to embed another knife in another monster’s head but it’s—it’s Gracia standing there and pointing the gun at him now.

(How—

How did it know what she looked like—)

“You wouldn’t hurt your own wife would you?” The thing imitating Gracia smiles sweetly at him before twisting her face into a nasty grin and saying, “Or your son ?”

Saying that,  Gracia suddenly shrinks, and Selim appears in her place, grinning gleefully up at him. “Surprise! Oh my god— that look on your face—hahahahahaha, and you don’t even know who he really is… boy, he’d be mad if he could see me right now. Not only am I going off plan, I’m even imitating him….”

(Selim—

He can’t stab him.

He can’t even bear to throw his knife at him—even knowing that this thing— this monster isn’t his child—

He—he has to move—but it’s a child right now, and he can’t again— )

“Well at least you don’t have to worry about pleasing him any longer.” The not-Selim smiles cheerfully and pulls the trigger—

And then something tugs at Hughes’ leg, sending him crashing down even in his frozen state, and the bullet grazes his shoulder instead of going anywhere more deadly.

The not-Selim clicks his tongue and shoots again, but this time Hughes is nearly thrown to the side by—a shadow? A shadow with eyes—

( The shadows here have eyes —

And Roy was right, Selim seeing Scar at Nina’s house and then managing to somehow run all the way back to the hotel to call him about it had never actually made sense—

And this monster almost acting as if it knows Selim—

What the fuck is going on here?)

“What are you doing, Envy?” the rippling shadows growl out, lashing against Hughes’ body.

The not-Selim—Envy—pouts and lowers the gun a bit. “Lust is right, you’ve gone soft.”

“I haven’t gone soft, you’ve gone dumb —not that you weren’t always a bit slow. What are you thinking, killing him right now? Mustang will be on our scent in no time—”

“He’s about to decipher all of Father’s plans, and you’re calling me slow?” Envy snorts and raises his gun again. “We need to put an end to him before he says anything—”

“I said no— ”

Hughes tries to scramble up at the exact moment Envy shoots, and even though the shadow tries to reach for him, he feels it pierce somewhere around his torso.

( Ugh—

His vision is already dimming—

This is bad .)

“I am going to rip you to shreds !” The shadows around him have risen up and are towering over Envy, some of them wrapped around him, shaking him and trembling in what looks like rage, while other tendrils break off to work at the phone. “You just wait—”

“Better hurry, Pride, he’s losing blood fast. ” Envy simply looks amused, although—he does seem to be sweating a bit in the shadow’s grasp. “Don’t know how you’re going to explain keeping him alive though. Still, he’ll probably be knocked out for at least a little bit.”

“Shut the fuck up, and I know. ”

(That’s—

That’s Selim’s voice—isn’t it?

But—

How—

What—

Why?

Darkness. )

Chapter Text

Absolutely nothing was going according to Pride’s plan.

He’s not entirely sure how he could have prevented Hughes from making the wild intuitive leap to the greater transmutation circle that they’d worked so hard to set up around the country just from Ed drawing an alchemical circle on the ground (aside from the fact that he had been preoccupied with piggy-backing Elicia during that time, it wasn’t like Hughes hadn’t seen alchemical circles before, why should that one drawing have made a difference), but he had done his best to distract him from going to the records office that night at least—and that had worked.

If only Lust and Envy had actually been on top of things and burned down the building that night, then they might have been fine!

But no, Lust had been with Gluttony, still trying to track down Scar (just more incompetence—he really doesn’t know why Father even bothered to make them), and Envy had been off, probably shifting into even more new forms to escape his ugly true self. So instead, Pride had done his best to make a few key documents go missing, but Hughes had still walked into the records building the next day and figured everything out over the course of a few more days.

There’s a reason he and Mustang are such close friends after all. Hughes is a very competent intelligence officer.

Competent enough and with enough of a reputation of brilliance that even without Pride sounding the alarm, Father had dispatched Lust and Envy at the first sign of Hughes poking around those documents to make sure that he wouldn’t talk to anyone about what he had learned.

And then—

(It wasn’t going against Father’s plan.

It was just—

It was modifying it a bit.)

Father is all-knowing and practically perfect obviously, but sometimes—well, he hadn’t interacted with a human in years, and Pride just knew that if Hughes died, that would set Mustang off on a rampage that could potentially be as damaging to Father’s plans as Hughes tipping Mustang off.

Granted, they definitely couldn’t let Mustang figure out the plans for the Promised Day. He’s just the sort of person who would be extremely effective at kicking up a fuss—and even if it wouldn’t be enough to overturn Father’s centuries-long plan, it would still be irritating.

So Pride had planned to perhaps knock Hughes out and get Wrath to ship him and the rest of the family off to Xing or some other place under armed guard, then forge a letter himself from Hughes to Mustang explaining the sudden trip abroad—and then Pride could remain in Amestris unfettered and oversee the rest of the operation.

He hadn’t exactly run it past Father yet—he was sure he would approve once he heard his reasoning, but it had been a pretty tight timeline, so he had been talking to Wrath about getting everything ready when Lust decided to launch the original plan instead.

(Goddamn Lust—constantly implying things and trying to usurp his position—

And with this, she really did force his hand, since technically, she was following all of Father’s original plans perfectly.

But he doesn’t have time to deal with Lust given that he has Envy mockingly laughing at him with his own face right now.)

He gives Envy a solid shake and hits them across the face hard enough that their neck snaps. “Change forms.”

Envy lets out an irritated clicking sound as they heal, now shifting into Gracia’s form. “Better?”

He doesn’t have time to deal with Envy’s petulant little viciousness, what with Hughes bleeding out right in front of him (how much blood does a human need to have? He never really had to know this before—this isn’t good, he called the hospital and listed out the address, but who knows how long it will take—), so he simply shoves them into the corner of the phonebooth, making their head rattle against the side, and envelopes them in shadows thoroughly so they can’t move. “ Change into something that won’t attract suspicion, you little pustule , or I’ll devour you whole. ”

Envy slowly starts to shift into a dog, grumbling the entire time, “Fine, fine—not like your plan is not going to attract suspicion—and he’s probably going to die anyway, given how long this is taking—”

“He is not going to die,” Pride says fiercely, keeping pressure on Hughes’ wound (that’s something you were supposed to do, right?). “I’m not letting that happen.”

“Wooooow, this is so weird—you actually caring about a human? You ?” Envy lets out a disturbing bark-cackle. “Oh, Lust is going to have so much fun with this—”

“ You won’t have time to go off gossiping and lazing about with Lust,” Pride snaps. “You’re going to be going off to Dublith with Wrath to investigate where Greed is.”

Envy stills, looking at him. “Greed? You found him? And you only mentioned this now?”

“It took some time to confirm his exact location,” Pride replies, the unsettling churning feeling in his stomach steadying as he hears the blare of an ambulance’s sirens approaching. “You’ll go through the town while Wrath goes there to potentially recruit someone as a State Alchemist.”

(He hasn’t actually informed Wrath of any of this but—

Wrath will listen to him, he always has.

Unlike the rest of this godforsaken family.)

Envy somehow manages to cast a doubtful look even as a dog. “…as much as I’ll enjoy beating Greed to a pulp, aren’t you forgetting a little something here? The human who knows everything Father is planning.”

“No human can know everything Father is planning,” Pride says haughtily. “I will handle that, you don’t need to worry about it.”

(First, he needs to make sure Hughes survives.

Then, he needs to divert Mustang’s suspicions elsewhere as much as he can, because that man isn’t going to take his friend getting shot lying down. He’s about to transfer to Central too, so that makes things trickier in some ways, but also easier to watch him.

After that—

Well, hopefully by then Greed will have been dragged back, so they can skip exactly how communication broke down so thoroughly that all this ended up happening, and then he can go with his original plan and get the entire Hughes family shipped off to Xing.

Simple, easy, fine.)

Envy’s tail swishes, and they shrug before walking away as they hear voices coming. “…alright, but even if Father doesn’t have questions, Lust certainly will.”

Pride doesn’t answer, simply widening his maw as a threat as Envy retreats, and then he returns to his vessel and puts his knees up to his chest as he watches and waits.

(He wants to tell Gracia and Elicia what has happened to Hughes—they will want to know—

But he can’t, there’s no explanation for why he would know such a thing right now.

All he can do is wait for the call and hope that these human doctors know what they’re doing.)

The chatter from the doctors is worried and unsure, and it seems like ages before he hears the ring in the house and Gracia’s gasp after she answers the phone.

From there it’s just a rush of tears and driving over to the hospital. The entire time, while Pride is letting Elicia cling to him like a limpet and Gracia hug him close, he’s trying to think of how to counter Lust and not about how his eyes seem to sting oddly.

(His vessel isn’t quite the same as a human body—it can only age so much, and it doesn’t have internal organs per say, but it does throw up weird human habits regardless sometimes.

It’s ridiculous—but it’s the form that Father mandated for him, so he supposes it’s right.)

Hughes has so many weird tubes and things hanging off him as he lies there pale in the hospital bed, and Gracia leaves him and Elicia with some nurse while she goes off to talk with the doctor, but of course, Selim can hear everything.

“Is Papa going to be okay?” Elicia whispers, huddled in his arms. The front of his shirt is already completely wet from Elicia’s tears.

“He will,” Pride replies authoritatively even as the doctor is telling Gracia about “surgery” and “blood loss” and “possible coma.”

(So—he sounds like at least he’s going to live, provided the surgery goes well.

That’s a relief—no Mustang on the warpath at least, and less tears from Gracia and Elicia.

And a coma would actually be a useful state for now—keeps him quiet while he gets Wrath to arrange things.

Although he just sent Wrath off to retrieve Greed.

…still gives him more time though.)

The rest of the night is just an awful combination of waiting, weird tasting apple juice, and this strange blend of boredom and dread.

Gracia tries to send him and Elicia off with some family friend, but Selim stands his ground, citing that both of them want to be here with their parents.

Gracia hugs him tight, smoothing down his hair. “Selim—I know you do, but it’s already so late—and there’s nowhere to really sleep here—”

“I’m not sleepy,” Selim replies (completely true—he doesn’t actually need sleep). “And Elicia can just sleep on me, it’s fine.”

Gracia shakes her head, her hands trembling as her eyes drift over to the doors that lead into the surgery. “…it won’t be comfortable for either of you here—and you must be hungry, we haven’t had time to eat at all.”  

“I’ll go to the hospital cafeteria and get some food for you guys,” Selim replies, standing up and pushing Elicia closer to Gracia. “Besides if you send us away, we’ll just be worrying the entire night, and we won’t be able to sleep at all, will we, Elicia?”

Elicia nods emphatically, her lower lip trembling. “Don’t want to leave!” she cries out piteously, clinging onto Gracia’s neck.

Gracia sighs before smoothing a hand down Elicia’s back while nodding and getting her purse. “…alright then. Here Selim—please just buy something for Elicia and yourself, I don’t think I can eat anything right now.”

Selim takes the money, but along with buying some meatloaf with veggies for Elicia, still buys some chicken pot pie for Gracia, because if there’s anything he understands about humans, it’s that they need to eat to survive.

(He can’t have both Hughes and Gracia falling apart on him. Who’d look after Elicia in that case?)

He delivers the food, lies to Gracia that he already ate in the cafeteria, and while the two of them are listlessly picking at the food, a doctor comes walking towards them. Gracia nearly drops her chicken pot pie out of her lap as she stands up, distractedly pats him on the head, and instructs him to watch over Elicia before heading over to talk to the doctor.

He grips Elicia tight while shamelessly eavesdropping and squeezes her even tighter when he hears the words, “….stable but unconscious for now.”

(Alright.

Alright, so he’ll live, that’s good.

Now he can go handle Lust and the rest with at least this off his mind.)

Gracia lets out a gasp that sounds like something between a sob and a choked thank you, and then hurries back to tell them the news.

“I’m going to stay here, but—but since they don’t know when Papa is going to wake up yet, you two go with nice Ms. Smith, alright?” Gracia gives them a kind of watery smile and gestures at the family friend who has arrived at the hospital at some point.

“What about you Mama?” Elicia asks, her eyes wide. “You won’t—is here safe?”

“I’ll stay here in case Papa wakes up—we don’t want him to be all alone, right?” Gracia asks, smoothing down Elicia’s blonde hair. “And, don’t worry, it’s safe here—Uncle Roy sent some extra people here too to guard Papa, so I’ll be fine.”

(Ah, so Mustang does know now.

Well, the extra protection detail is good, but it won’t be enough if Lust tries again and this time brings Gluttony along.

So—he should probably check-in and make sure she stands down, while still keeping an eye here just in case.)

“Alright Mama, I’ll watch over Elicia, no problem!” he says, clenching his fist to his chest.

Gracia gives a weak smile and hugs both of them again. “Such a good boy, Selim…but yes, go get some rest, children. I’m sure you’re both exhausted.”

Mrs. Smith takes them home and offers to tuck them in, but Pride authoritatively turns her down and gets Elicia all washed up and tucked into bed himself.

“Stay, Selim,” Elicia pleads, tugging on his pajamas as he turns to leave. “Stay!”

(It’d definitely be easier to conference with everyone in his own room, but he can do it here too.

Elicia is bound to just knock out at some point, it is way past her bedtime, and she has cried an exhausting amount of tears by now.)

“Okay,” Pride answers, opening up the covers and getting into the bed as well, while letting Elicia hug him close. “Good night, Elicia. Everything will be alright tomorrow, you’ll see.”

“Good night, Selim. Okay…I trust you…”

As Elicia’s breaths even out and she begins to snore, Pride casts himself out of his vessel and down into the dark depths where his brethren lie.

“Pride,” Father’s chilly voice rings out as he appears, “I see that you have intervened to save the life of that intelligence officer.”

“Yes,” Pride acknowledges, shifting a bit. “Of course he cannot be allowed to share his discoveries with anyone, but his death would open up many questions. Mustang is very smart, and the death of his best friend would enrage him and make him especially dangerous and ask many questions—”

“Pride, are you questioning me?” Father asks mildly. “Do you think you know better than your own father?”

“No,” Pride immediately answers. “I do not—there are however some details about the—characteristics of these humans that I have grown aware of with all the time that I have spent with them, so Lust and Envy striking out blindly on their own was ill-advised—”

“Lust and Envy were following my orders,” Father interrupts again in the same mild tone. “Your time as a spy is coming to a close regardless, there is nothing more that you can learn there—”

“I found Greed. While I was there,” Pride announces, playing his trump card as he feels unease slosh around his brain.

Father simply looks at him. “Ah. Yes, Envy informed me of that. You said that he should go travel with Wrath out to some small provincial town to retrieve him?”

“Yes—I am very certain he’s there,” Pride rushes to say. “He seems to have accumulated a number of chimeras as well—Wrath can easily deal with all of them, and he can be brought here to face justice.”

“I could use more resources for the Promised Day,” Father muses before nodding. “The plan is sound. Go inform Wrath of Greed’s powers and habits, and tell him to bring him back quickly.”

“Yes,” Pride acknowledges before shifting a bit. “And—and Hughes? There will be no further attacks against him? He is in an unconscious state now, so he is unable to impart what he knows to anyone, and Mustang has already posted up a guard around him, so he will get more suspicious if we attack him again—”

“Which is why you should have let the plan proceed as it should have,” Father says in the same mild tone.

“Envy was going to attract far too much notice—”

“Envy improvised a bit, but things would be much smoother if that intelligence officer had died then. As it now stands, Mustang is suspicious, and further action will be much trickier. However, Lust does have an idea of how to get better intelligence on his group, and when she is done, I am sure everything can be wrapped up smoothly.”

“….intel on Mustang is supposed to be my job,” Pride can’t help but snarl.

“Not one that you have done very well,” Father pins him with a look. “It was Lust who informed me how close that intelligence officer was getting to the truth—”

“If Lust hadn’t interfered, I could have stolen more information, and he would have never made the connection!” Pride protests.

“…you appear to be under the mistaken apprehension of what your job is, Pride,” Father says in a silky tone. “Let me remind you: you are to oversee Wrath and Sloth, and you are to keep watch over Roy Mustang and his compatriots, letting us know if they ever get too close. There is no need to try and sabotage their pathetic endeavors—you are obviously not very good at it. Well, that’s to be expected. I didn’t really design you that way, the way I designed Lust and Envy to be.”

(Being compared to Lust and Envy makes him want to scream.

It isn’t his fault that he’s limited by his vessel!

And Lust and Envy’s abilities are nothing —he could devour them both without blinking!

Father never appreciates anything he does—

Not that of course, Father has to.

Father created him, and his purpose is to carry out Father’s will, and that’s—that’s always been enough for him.

Hasn’t it?)

Father waves a hand at him dismissively, “Go talk to Wrath, surely you can still handle that.”

(Father is disappointed in him.

Well that’s—

It’s never exactly like he got approval from Father in the first place—even when he performs all his tasks perfectly—even when he goes above and beyond —all he gets is just a nod at most, nothing like the effusive praise or hugs that Hughes would give—

Hughes and Father can’t be compared of course.

Hughes is a mere human, while Father is the closest thing to a god at this point—and will become one soon for real after the Promised Day.

He’ll go talk to Wrath, and also arrange for Elicia and Gracia to leave Amestris with Hughes—it’s not like Hughes would be willing to go without his family anyway.)

--

“…to Xing,” Wrath says carefully, setting aside the documents he had been signing to look directly at Pride. “You brought this up before, but you really want me to come up with some excuse to send them all to Xing?”

“It’s very remote and we have almost no direct lines of communication to that country, so Mustang will find it very hard to get over there,” Pride says then adds thoughtfully, “Also their language is entirely different, so Hughes will have a hard time communicating what has happened to anyone there. And even if someone does understand him, why would they care?”

Wrath folds his hands together and looks at Pride steadily. “…I heard that the original plan was for Hughes to be killed.”

“Lust and Envy jumped the gun—you know how Mustang is, if we had really killed off his best friend, that would have lit a fire underneath him, and we don’t need that right now,” Pride replies dismissively.

“Perhaps but—” Wrath hesitates for a bit before saying slowly, “I understand how you might have become attached to some of these humans—I am quite attached to my wife after all—but I feel as if sometimes you’re starting to miss the bigger picture and is it the case that—you have spent too long among humans, and you’re forgetting who you are?”

( What?

Wrath —youngest and closest to the humans of all the homunculi—that Wrath—he actually dared to question him like that right now?

All his siblings are just piling in on him one after another—who was next, Gluttony? Father forbid—Sloth?

This couldn’t be allowed to stand.)

“ You dare question me? ” Pride draws himself up so that he’s spread almost across Wrath’s entire office. “ Me? I know exactly who I am—I am Pride the Arrogant, Father’s first-born child, his right hand, one of the first beings that these humans all called ‘monsters’, and I have consumed enough souls and lived enough years that for all the people you have killed Wrath, you have nothing on me.”

“That is all true,” Wrath acknowledges, taking off his eyepatch so he can look at him fully with his ultimate eye. “Just see that you remember it, that’s all. This sending the Hughes family off to Xing—it reeks of human frailty. You want to spare them, but Father needs as many souls as possible to ascend to godhood—I am not even sending my wife away.”

“I am not trying to spare them—this is simply the easiest way to get Hughes out of the way without Mustang barging in and disrupting our plans,” Pride seethes, letting his jaw drop open a bit so that Wrath could see a few of the screaming souls inside. “The entire reason I was placed with Hughes was to make sure Mustang doesn’t get in the way, and this mess that Lust and Envy caused is already going to make Mustang start asking questions, so do you want to keep questioning me, or do you want to wait for Mustang to start plotting?”

Wrath waves a dismissive hand. “Mustang has always been plotting, for all the good that it does him. Weren’t you the one who always asked me what a mere human could do against Father?”

(That much is true.

Still—if there is anything he has learned with all these years of staying in the Hughes household and having Mustang obnoxiously tease him for being short and ruffling his hair, it’s that Mustang should never be underestimated.

On his own, he was a formidable sacrifice in his own right with his flame alchemy, but with Hughes, Hawkeye, and the rest of his team backing him, he started to truly become a threat.

So in that respect, eliminating Hughes would of course be an efficient way of removing one of Mustang’s most relied upon resources—

But Pride didn’t want that to happen.

Not because of any sentiment—of course not—just that his comprehension is superior to Lust and Envy’s, and that’s final. )

“Father will always prevail of course, but why should we make the experience any more irritating than it has to be?” Pride demands, looming ever closer to Wrath’s desk. “Are you writing the Xing orders or not?”

“…I will write them,” Wrath says at last, drawing out an official looking piece of paper and starting to write it. “Since Hughes is now alive and Mustang has a guard all over him, I suppose it is the correct decision. I won’t report it to Father though, just because it seems as though—it could be perceived as mutinous. It won’t get processed until after I get back from retrieving Greed though.”

“That’s fine,” Pride says, snapping at him before drawing away again (the nerve of the man to even mention reporting something to Father—how could anything Pride do be mutinous at all?) “I will keep an eye on Hughes to see when he will wake. Oh—and do give my regards to Greed.”

“You can give them yourself when I bring him back,” Wrath shrugs.

--

Greed is brought back with little issue, although Wrath does mention that it appears some of his chimera friends managed to escape.

Greed cackles at that, throwing back his head and grinning madly over the vat of boiling gold. “Good for them,” he rasps out. “Knew they’d be able to get away from you fuckers.”

“Language Greed,” Pride snaps from the shadows.

“Oh, fuck you Pride,” Greed snarls before turning his head and glaring at Father. “And I’d tell you to go to hell old man, except you’ve already been there. You better turn up the temperature real hot here and hope it burns every last shred of me away because let me tell you—if there’s anything left of me, I’ll get my fucking vengeance.”

“Time away from us has made you vulgar, Greed,” Father shakes his head. “Are those your last words?”

“Hm, let me think about it—fuck all of you— especially you, Pride, Envy, and Wrath—and I’ll go see what hell is like before all of you come to join me there!”

There’s a lot of screaming and zapping as Greed is reduced down to just the shreds of his soul, which Father consumes, and although this should fill Pride with glee—the traitor finally having brought to the end he deserves, he still feels—uneasy.

Maybe it’s the haughty looks that Envy and Lust are giving him, or maybe it’s the way Father holds his gaze as he drinks down what’s left of Greed, or maybe it’s the fact that Hughes has yet to awaken and Mustang is busy investigating everything around what happened that day—

(He feels—

Almost as if he’s out of place here, which doesn’t make any sense, because if he belongs anywhere, it’s here.

He’s just a part of Father—the firstborn, the oldest, and the most powerful, but in the end, still just a part of a whole.

That’s just who he really is—and all this playing around with his vessel and pretending to be a kid, all of it is just an act.

An act that he’s done for centuries without any problems or any qualms at all so he’s not really sure why now—

But it has been different, going undercover full-time, with parents who have no idea of who he really is, who treat him and care for him as though he really is their own child, and with a sibling who actually adores him.

It’s—

If he admits that he’ll miss it when it’s all gone—is that a betrayal of Father’s cause?

No, right? Father doesn’t care really about how he, or for that matter, any of them, cares about what they’re doing as long as they get the job done.

And for years he has said the exact same thing, sneering at Greed’s complaints before he had run off, and frustrated over Envy’s fits of pique, but now he—

But he’s not the same as Greed.

He would never run off and abandon the cause that Father has long labored towards, no matter how much he’s starting to understand—

What is wrong with him?)

“Mustang is busy sniffing around,” he announces loudly, trying to bury his intrusive thoughts.

“I am well-aware,” Lust replies, examining her nails. “We’ll direct towards Second Lieutenant Ross—Envy may have been careless, but at least he bought us an alibi. Unlike you—just giving us more problems.”

“How is the search for Scar going, Lust?” Pride shoots back, climbing and expanding across the walls. “Oh that’s right— you still haven’t found him yet .”

“In that matter, there will be a switch of priorities,” Father announces. “Pride—go find us someone to hunt down both Scar and that Crystal Alchemist. Lust will be better positioned here to watch over Mustang what with her new connections in his circle.”  

Pride draws a bit back at that.

(…did that count as a demotion?

He has been in charge of watching over Mustang for so long—but at the same time, Father is announcing that Lust failed at finding both Scar and that Dr. Marcoh, so that’s a plus.

And when Lust doesn’t manage to get any new information out of her new boyfriend and Mustang inevitably does something that messes up the plan, that will only make Pride look better as well.)

“Yes Father,” Pride inclines himself. “I will be sure to find him.”

“I hope so,” Father replies in a chilly tone, setting the glass aside. “You have been behaving strangely of late, Pride. I hope you will not follow your own will to unpleasant places.”

“I have no will but yours, Father,” Pride says, bowing down.

“See that you remember that.”

--

Pride searches through Central himself, but Scar doesn’t seem to be there. That makes sense though, his last known sighting was in East City. Still, there’s no way for Pride to go over there, not with Hughes still in a coma, Elicia clinging to him like one of his own shadows, Gracia hovering worriedly around the house, and of course, the Elric brothers having returned with both Winry and some Xingese friend they had met in tow.

The Xingese friend is—a bit of a problem since Pride recognizes him on sight to be one of the many sons of the Xingese emperor, and looking at that sword on his back and the calluses on his hands, this was not one of the pampered princelings, but a martial artist who could most likely sense Qi.

Best to not engage—Pride has no way to hide from that, and thankfully he had spotted that Ling Yao before any of their confused group had noticed him, so he had managed to quickly duck out of the house with Elicia and get away.

Certainly an inconvenience—but thankfully the next day or so, Ling Yao wandered off to explore the city and then promptly got himself arrested, and Pride had advised Wrath to see to it that he was kept under lock and key for a bit.

(The Xingese practice a different system of alchemy that Father was not involved with, and they have annoying habits like sensing Qi.

He doesn’t know why a Xingese prince is here, but it is certainly both an inconvenience to Father’s plan overall, and Pride’s own plans in particular.

He’s not entirely sure how seriously Wrath takes him, but despite this dereliction of proper respect he still has a great many other things to worry about.)

Even with Ling Yao out of the way, the Elric brothers keep barging in and out of the house to check on them, so there’s no choice but to delegate—and since none of his siblings can be trusted at the moment, he has to resort to using humans.

However luckily, there is just the kind of cunning, wily, powerful human they need locked up in the jails of Central.

“So you’ll secure my release if I agree to go hunt for this Scar and Dr. Marcoh for you?” Kimblee tilts his head and looks with interest at Pride. “…interesting. It’s inexcusable that my symphony of destruction is incomplete of course.”

“Kill Scar on sight,” Pride orders. “Dr. Marcoh though, bring him in, we still have further use for him.”

“Breaking me out for just two people? Seems overkill, but who am I to complain?” Kimblee shrugs.

“There will be work for you later as well,” Pride says darkly.

(There’s still Briggs where they need to complete the last Blood Seal, and then Father’s circle will be complete.

And of course, the Crimson Lotus alchemist will be the perfect one to solve all these problems—and when he is done, Pride will just devour him to clean up the last loose end.)

A wide smile stretches across Kimblee’s face as he stands up and cracks his neck. “Excellent—it’s been too long since I’ve heard some explosions and screams. Do you want me to find Scar or Dr. Marcoh first?”

“…Scar,” Pride decides (best to clean up the earliest of Lust’s messes first). “He was last seen in East City—if he’s already dead, that is fine as well, but bring back definitive proof of that.”

“Good, good, I can finish my work from Ishval at last,” Kimblee hums to himself.

With that settled, and the release orders from Wrath arranged (with no back-talk this time or else he would have really been tempted to throw him around a bit to remind him who he ‘really is’), and the order to let Lust handle Mustang, Pride really should be focusing on checking on Hughes and keeping Gracia’s and Elicia’s spirits up (so he can maintain his cover of course).

But obviously, it wasn’t like Mustang wasn’t going to check in on the Hughes family, and it would be even more unlike Mustang to not ask questions.

“I’m still trying to track down whoever called the hospital,” Mustang says to Gracia when he thinks both Selim and Elicia are asleep, sitting there with his hands propping up his head in thought. “They have to know something more about what happened that day.”

“It couldn’t have been Second Lieutenant Ross?” Gracia asks, pouring Mustang some coffee.

“No,” Mustang shakes his head, idly picking up the coffee but not drinking it. “I’m not so sure Ross even had anything to do with it.”

Gracia frowns. “But eyewitnesses saw her there—”

“There is a lot of evidence against her, and she is awaiting trial now, but I don’t think—it makes no sense for it to be her. She says she was visiting her parents, and I have found eyewitnesses to attest to that fact as well—so whether she is being framed is something I have to consider as well,” Mustang sighs, looking into his mug.

Gracia lets out a sigh as well. “Well—that’s good, I couldn’t understand at all how it could be her. Still—if it’s not her—then who?”

“Who else knew what Maes was investigating?” Mustang asks, leaning forward.

Gracia grimaces, taking a sip of tea. “No one, if you don’t even know. He just told me—that it was something he hoped wasn’t serious. You know Maes—he wouldn’t want to worry me with anything he didn’t have solid proof for yet, and if he didn’t tell you yet—it must have been something really big that he really wanted to be sure of before he told you.”

Mustang nods, his brow knitted in concentration. “I’ve tried looking up everything he was looking up—but I don’t know why he wanted to look at old military records—or for that matter, why someone would want to kill him over it.”

“It must have been something very important,” Gracia says quietly. “But something well-hidden—still, whenever Maes wakes up, he will tell you.”

“Yes,” Mustang says firmly, standing up. “Yes, he will. Do you want me to send some people to guard the house as well?”

“Do you think that’s necessary?” Gracia asks, looking around uneasily.

“I don’t know,” Mustang replies frankly. “It’s hard to see right now who our enemy actually is—I’ll at least station one or two to keep watch, and don’t ever hesitate to call, Gracia.”

“Of course,” Gracia says standing up and giving Mustang a wan smile. “Whenever Maes wakes up, you will be the first to know—after my children, of course.”

“Of course,” Mustang echoes and nods, gathering up his coat. “Well—the Lieutenant has discovered an interesting person, so I must go and question him.”

(An interesting person?

He could take a peek—see if it’s something Lust missed.

After all, even if Father had reassigned their missions, it would only be right for Pride to check in.)

Sending his shadows after Mustang, he realizes that apparently, one of the test subjects from Laboratory #5 had survived (another mistake of Lust’s, so sad) and had tried to attack Hawkeye ( big mistake—he couldn’t have picked a worse possible human victim).

As Mustang and Hawkeye bundle off Barry the Chopper to a warehouse with Falman, Pride considers his options.

(He could inform Father and rub it in Lust’s face that he had found out first.

It could make him look better, but that would also bring up the fact that he had been spying when Father had reassigned him.

And—perhaps Lust would find out anyway from her new boyfriend soon, so really it’s a chance for him to hold some key pieces of information and watch for whenever Lust inevitably messes up to just neatly step in, smooth things over, and prove to Father once and for all, who the most superior of all his children really was.)

So he watches with a decent bit of glee as Mustang schemes and orders Barry the Chopper to go break Maria Ross out of jail (sadly, that also leads to Ling Yao getting broken out of jail, but as long as he keeps an eye out and makes himself scarce before the Xingese prince arrives, he’s safe). Lust’s next move is to release Barry the Chopper’s body, reanimated with a lab animal’s soul, to go hunt him. Of course, this leads to Mustang’s group chasing the body all the way back to Laboratory #3, and Pride is just getting ready to step in when he hears Gracia gasp and then let out a happy sob.

“Oh—thank you doctor! Yes, we will be over there immediately! Yes—of course, I’m bringing the children! Tell Maes I love him so much—darling! Oh—it’s so good to hear your voice—Selim? He’s fine—he’s been such a dear helping around the house and watching over Elicia—yes, of course. I love you, Maes, and we will be there soon!”

(…Hughes has woken up.

Hughes has woken up, and Wrath still hasn’t processed the Xing transfer papers yet because of this entire Maria Ross situation.

What is he going to do now?)

Chapter Text

The doctor and nurse chattering away while congratulating him on waking up is a nice distraction, but Hughes is trying to keep his breath steady and not end up fainting and falling into a coma again.

(They say he’s been out for nearly a month.

He guesses—he supposes it’s good he’s alive but—

That last voice he heard, coming from the shadows full of eyes—

That had been Selim’s voice, hadn’t it?

But—

No—he must have been hallucinating. The blood loss had gotten pretty serious by then, his doctor already told him he had been lucky to survive and that he should really thank whoever had called and gotten him to the hospital in time.

That—would have been that shadow, right?

But why would that monster have wanted to help him?

The other one—the one who had shifted into Second Lieutenant Ross’ form and then into Selim’s—had said some very strange things…

It had fought with the shadow and called it soft, called it Pride. The shadow had called it Envy, and mentioned someone else named Lust, so—the Seven Deadly Sins? They were themed or something?

But how does that all connect back to Selim?

It’s—it’s crazy to think that—to suspect that—

He must have been checking on too many conspiracies to even come up with that.

But—he had been right about the massive transmutation circle—which he really needs to tell about to Roy, stat—and then for this—

For this—

He needs to talk to Selim.)

“Maes!” Gracia bursts into the room, tears in her eyes, Elicia and Selim each holding one of her hands. “Maes! Oh—you’re awake!”

“Papa!” Elicia cries out, immediately letting go of her mother’s hand to clamber onto his bed. “Papa! I missed you, Papa!”

He catches her in his arms and manages to hold in a pained grunt when she accidentally knees his bandaged torso. “I missed you too, Elicia! It must have been hard on you—but look, I’m back, and I’m so happy to see all of you!”

“I’m so happy too Papa!” Selim chirps, walking over to give him a warm hug, his arms thrown firmly around his neck.

(That can’t be fake, can it?

That affection—all those happy and cheerful moments with him, the love of horror stories he shares with Gracia, his obvious care and concern over Elicia—

Even if some of it is fake, Hughes can’t believe it all is.

Especially when Pride is the one who kept insisting that he be kept alive, even if it would ruin this ‘Father’s’ plans.

Sure, he kept justifying himself, saying that Roy would go on the war-path if Hughes died, but while that is probably true, Hughes knows that the best way to keep something secret is to simply kill off anyone who knows too much about it.

The easiest and most efficient way to keep their plan on track would be to silence him now and forever.

And yet—he is alive and well.

Well—mostly well—he was definitely going to have to go through physical therapy, but still.

What was their next move?

Who was in charge?

And how did Selim—Pride—factor into all of this?)

“Maes?” Gracia’s voice calls him back to himself, her hand trembling slightly as she strokes his hair. “Are you alright?”

“I’m good,” Hughes confirms, patting Selim on the back and stroking Elicia’s hair before managing a grin for Gracia. “Gracia, baby—did I worry you?”

Gracia lets out a laugh that turns into a choked sob midway through. “You worried me so much —you terrible man—”

“I’m sorry,” Hughes says, leaning forward and kissing the corner of her mouth while breathing in the scent of her hair. “I’m so sorry.”

Gracia lets out a shuddering breath and reaches out to smooth her hands over his shoulders before nodding. “You came back, that’s what matters. And—what happened? Do you remember who attacked you? It wasn’t Second Lieutenant Ross, was it?”

“Yeah, Papa, what do you remember?” Selim asks, loosening his grasp and looking up at him with wide innocent eyes.

“Ross? Oh—no—and… I remember enough that I need to talk to Roy,” Hughes says carefully, glancing around. “Can someone call him here?”

“I did try, but they say he’s off on some operation.” Gracia frowned. “Something about a lab?”

(Oh, that’s probably not good.

Still—Roy can handle himself at the best of times, and probably even more so with the knowledge that someone attacked Hughes.

But what was this about Ross?

Was it because that monster had shifted into her form at one point?

They couldn’t be trying to pin this on her, were they?

Shit— Roy wouldn’t think she had anything to do with it, would he?

No—Roy’s smarter than that—and he also has Riza there for the times he’s not, so Ross should be fine.

Well, as fine as she could be with a government conspiracy determined to proceed.

Which of course brings back the question—how is he still alive?)

Hughes glances over at Selim, who smiles innocently at him. “I’m sure Uncle Roy will be here as soon as he can! He’s probably just a little—held up right now.”

(And that doesn’t sound ominous at all.

….he needs to talk with Selim, as much as it pains him to do so.)

“Gracia—Elicia—can I talk with just Selim for a moment?” he asks gently, patting Gracia’s hand.

Gracia looks puzzled, glancing over at Selim and then back at him. “…of course you can but—why?”

“I feel like Papa has some worries that he wants to put to rest,” Selim pipes up, his voice high and clear. “It’s no big deal—don’t worry Mama. I’m sure he just wants to know what’s happened while he was out.”

“I’m not going,” Elicia declares, holding onto Hughes tighter. “I don’t want to go! I want to stay with Papa!”

“Shh, shh, Elicia,” Hughes says, smoothing down her hair. “I’ll be right here, promise! There’s just a few things that I need to talk to your brother about—”

“Why can’t I stay?” Elicia demands, looking up at him with teary eyes. “You just came back!”

Hughes feels his resolve slipping (his poor baby girl—she’s probably been through so much this month as well…) when Selim clears his throat and declares, “Papa probably wants to plan some kind of surprise with me!”

“A surprise?” Elicia asks, eyes wide, and turns her head to look at Selim.

Selim nods solemnly. “Obviously we have to celebrate him waking up—but the theme and the gifts and the cake will be a surprise for everyone!”

“Cake?” Elicia echoes, her blue eyes growing even wider. “A big cake?”

“The biggest—three—no, four layers,” Selim says, motioning with his hands to show how big it will be. “Chocolate and strawberry and lemon and raspberry!”

“Ooooooh,” Elicia says, her arms loosening from Hughes’ neck as she stares at Selim. “But why can’t you guys talk about it here?”

“Because the gifts are a secret, Elicia!” Selim says cheerfully, hefting her up, stumbling, and then pushing her towards Gracia. “Don’t you want a nice surprise?”

“…yes,” Elicia admits, hugging Gracia tightly. “But you won’t take too long—right?”

“Definitely won’t, now go! Secret planning!” Selim insists, making shooing gestures.

Gracia glances at Hughes, and Hughes gives her a nod. She sighs, rubs Selim head, then leans forward to give Hughes another kiss on the cheek. “…alright. But like Elicia said—don’t take too long. You need to rest, Maes! Doctor’s orders!”

“I’ve been doing nothing but resting this past month!” Hughes reassures, reaching out to squeeze her hand. “It’ll be alright, I promise.”

(…somehow, he’ll make it right.)

Gracia and Elicia leave the room, and Selim turns to him with a cheerful smile. “What did you want to talk about Papa? There isn’t really going to be a surprise party, is there?”

“…you came up with that rather smoothly,” Hughes notes.

“I’ve gotten a lot of practice watching you,” Selim says with a grin, sitting at the foot of his bed. “Oooh, or is it some kind of secret investigation? I’d be really good at that! Or is it—”

“Selim,” Hughes interrupts, leaning forward. “You—you were there, weren’t you? And at Nina’s house—that must have been you as well.”

Selim raises his eyebrows, his expression confused. “There? Where’s there? And Nina’s house? Is that tying back to all of Uncle Roy’s questions? I told you that it’s all a blur—”

“‘The shadows here have eyes,’” Hughes repeats slowly. “And you—you always loved shadow puppets so much, and Elicia always said you were so good at them—and in the phonebooth, that was your voice, and you protecting me—”

“Papa, I don’t understand, you’re scaring me,” Selim interjects, his lower lip trembling. “I don’t really get why you think you heard me there—I—I practice really hard for my shadow puppets—is that bad? I can stop…”

(Oh, this is breaking his heart.

His son looks as though he’s about to cry —did he get this all wrong?

He had been losing a lot of blood at the time, it could have been some kind of hallucination…)

“I don’t see why you believe the words of some serial killer apply to me ,” Selim sobs, his little hands rubbing at his eyes.

Hughes freezes. “…I never said that Scar said those words,” he says slowly. “And—the only people there at that time other than me and Scar were the Elric brothers and—”

(And the demon Scar had been talking about, if it had just been hiding in the shadows the whole time.)

The sobs abruptly stop, and when Selim lowers his hands, his face is eerily calm.

“…drat,” he says thoughtfully, as the shadows around him seem to lengthen. “I forgot about that. There’s a lot I’ve had to keep track of over these past few days so—an amateur mistake, but oh well.”

“What—Selim—what are you?” Hughes croaks out as the shadows seem to take on a life of their own and stretch out around them—much like in the phonebooth.

“I’m a homunculus,” Selim answers simply, as the shadows around him grow and eyes begin to open up from them. “Father’s first-born, oldest and wisest of all my siblings.”

“Pride,” Hughes breathes.

(That—

How—

Then all this time—

Was everything a lie?

Had he been sent here just to—just to what, spy on him?

But—

But if that was the case—

Why save his life?)

“Smart,” Selim nods, propping his chin on his hands. “But we always knew you were smart. That’s why Father put me with you—keep an eye on both you and Mustang.”

( Roy —that’s who they were after.

But again in that case—

Why not just kill Roy as well?

And back in the Fifth Laboratory—didn’t Ed say that those monsters—these homunculi he guesses he should call them—didn’t he say that they could have easily killed him, but had also ended up keeping him alive?

So what is it—are they keeping alchemists alive for some reason?

…is there something they need them for?

But again, that doesn’t explain why Pride—Selim—had kept him alive.

He’s not an alchemist, and he definitely knows too much now.

Why is Pride—Selim—Pride explaining all this?

And where is Roy right now?)

“…is Roy really stuck in a lab?” Hughes asks directly.

Selim’s eyebrows shoot up. “Oh—just awake and already that suspicious, huh? An intelligence officer’s instincts I guess… Mustang will be fine, we can’t let precious sacrifices go to waste. It’ll probably just take them some time to dig through everything I sealed them in.”

(Sealed, not burned down.

So there probably is something valuable in that lab, or else they would have just set fire to it like they did the Archives and the other lab.

He’ll have to let Roy know—if he manages to get out of this in one piece.

But Pride—Selim doesn’t want to hurt him does he?)

“…are you planning on imprisoning me somewhere after all this?” Hughes asks, gesturing around at the shadows gathered menacingly overhead. “Or are you going to kill me?”

“I didn’t work this hard to keep you alive to kill you right now!” Selim says indignantly, suddenly sounding like himself for the first time since the shadows had appeared. “Mustang would be furious and go on a rampage! You’re—you’re going to get shipped off to Xing for a bit. You and Gracia and Elicia.”

(…so even though Selim is probably much older than he physically appears, given how long this conspiracy must have been going on, it seems that perhaps at his heart—

Selim is still a child, in some respects.

Does he even know why he kept Hughes alive?)

“And if I refuse?” Hughes asks, his fists clenched in his sheets.

Selim shakes his head woefully. “I would advise against that. Father’s Promised Day is coming soon. You won’t want to be here when it happens—and neither will Gracia or Elicia.”

(Gracia and Elicia for sure need to get out of Amestris, even if Gracia fights him tooth and nail on her going with Elicia—he can’t risk any of them.

And apparently, neither can Pride.

Not everything here is a lie—just a whole fucking lot. )

“You know I won’t go, Selim,” he says gently, looking at him.

Selim frowns, the shadows around him still moving around. “Perhaps. But how are you going to stop me from just knocking you out and then sending you there?”

“How are you going to explain that to Gracia?” Hughes immediately asks. “How are you going to explain that to Elicia? ”

That makes Selim stand shock-still, even his shadows frozen in place. “She’d—none of them have to know—”

“It’s a bit hard for them not to know if we’re somehow all in Xing without you,” Hughes points out. “Also— I know.”

Selim shifts in place, his shadows starting to stir around his feet as he begins to chew his lip. “…I always knew all of you would have to find out… that doesn’t really matter to me…”

“If it doesn’t, then why are you hesitating?” Hughes presses his advantage. “What are you waiting for, Pride?”

Selim looks up at him, his face scrunched up (there’s part anger, but there’s also part distress, and all Hughes wants to do is give him a hug—but right now, he has to keep going). “I—I know what you’re trying to do—trying to imply—and it doesn’t work. I don’t actually care about any of you—you’ve all been very nice for humans, that’s true—Elicia is probably at the pinnacle of them—and it would be—rude for me to just let you all be sacrificed—”

“Before, you said you didn’t want to kill me because Roy would go on a rampage,” Hughes interrupts steadily. “And while that is probably true—you must know the safer option would have been to silence me completely. And now you’re saying that you want to spare all of us out of politeness? Which is it, Pride?”

A shadowy tendril lashes out and grips him by the collar, shoving him against the metal headboard of his bed and causing it to rattle as Pride steps closer. “Obviously it’s both. Don’t act like you know me, Hughes. You just knew the character I was playing—that’s all. I am so much older and unfathomable than you can even dream of.”

Hughes struggles in his grasp (damn—no wonder Selim had never really bothered with P.E. if he had always had this tucked away somewhere) and gasps out, “If that really was the case—if everything was a lie, and I don’t know you at all—then kill me here and now, because otherwise Pride, I am going to stop you.”

Selim throws his head back and laughs. “How are you going to do that?” he asks, tilting his head. “Do you really think you can go against me? Or prevent any of Father’s plans?”

“Haven’t I already?” Hughes argues (he already really, really hates this Father guy). “Wasn’t killing me part of his plan?”

Selim pauses, his hold loosening slightly. “That’s not—that was just—Father didn’t have all the details of what was happening here—of the consequences—so it was up to me to take action—”

“And afterwards? When you told him all the details and consequences, did he agree with your decision?”

Selim is still, but the shadows around him start to flicker strangely. “…Father is always right. He just—I—it doesn’t matter, Father is someone who will become a God, so attempting to prevent his plans from coming into fruition is just pointless.”

“ That’s what the circle is for?” Hughes demands.  “Godhood?”

(Whenever he meets this Father, he’s going to stab him in the neck. What a monumental selfish dickwad.

And that is the person who has been guiding Selim this entire time?

No wonder he’s like this—and no wonder Selim wants to keep them all alive.

It had probably been the first time he had ever been shown a little affection, let alone love.

He just needs to sow enough doubt in his mind to maybe break this Father’s hold—)

“What a cliché motive,” Hughes says shaking his head ruefully. “All for that… So many lives, just to attempt to elevate one person? And what happens to you and the rest of the homunculi—your siblings—after that?”

Selim is quiet for a moment, before slowly saying, “We will still be his children of course—elevated servants perhaps—”

“Is that all he sees you all as? Servants?”

Selim’s head jerks up, and he scowls furiously. “We are his children —we are his creations, and he is fit to order us to do anything— ”

“Is he?” Hughes asks quietly. “If I ordered Elicia to do even half of what he has made you do, wouldn’t you have killed me already?”

Selim just stands there, staring at him in shock. This is when there is a knock on the door and Gracia cracks it open.

“Maes, Roy just got out and got my message, so he’s coming over, so I thought you should—”

Gracia’s voice dies as she takes in the scene, her eyes growing wide as they travel from the shadows around Hughes’ neck over to Selim. Then she immediately hurtles into the room, grabbing at Selim.

“Selim! Get away from that ! It’s—”

Selim dodges her grasp, the shadows drawing away from Hughes and swaying at his feet as the door creaks, and he looks over to see Elicia peering at them all, blinking in confusion.

“Selim? Are you going to be doing a big shadow play for the surprise?” she asks hopefully.

Selim is frozen in place for a moment, looking from Elicia’s cheerful expression over to Gracia’s pale face, then back to Hughes, before his eyes land at the window where a car pulls up and Roy gets out. The shadows at Selim’s feet begin to swirl, and suddenly, he's gone.

“ Selim! ” Gracia cries out, reaching out frantically across the ground where he disappeared, her hands scrabbling at the cold hard tiles. “ Selim! Maes—Selim—Selim he—something took him—our son, how do we get our son back?”

Maes manages to hobble up from his bed to catch his wife, clutching her firmly to him as his hands tremble along with hers. “He’s—Gracia—Selim’s not—he’s our son but—”

The door slams open once again, Roy marching in and quickly scooping up a confused Elicia before glancing around. “I saw weird shadows—same as down in that lab—where’s Selim?”

“He—he disappeared with those shadows! ” Gracia cries out, clutching at Hughes while staring at Roy. “Roy—please—spread out your people, find our son—”

“You do need to find him,” Hughes agrees, his hands tightening around Gracia’s shoulders. “But not—not because he’s been kidnapped—Gracia—he’s—those shadows are part of him.”

Gracia stares at him. “ What? ”

“I know it’s—hard to believe—impossible to believe, but—Gracia, he’s—he’s not a normal boy. He has abilities and—he is affiliated with those homunculi Ed was talking about.”

Gracia shakes her head, pulling away from his grasp. “That’s not possible—he just turned eleven —he’s not—he doesn’t have some kind of crazy shadow powers—”

“But Selim does!” Elicia pipes up, looking worriedly between her parents. “Selim has always been really good at controlling shadows—that’s how he tells me stories and makes plays!”

“…Elicia, you—you knew he could do this?” Hughes asks slowly.

(Pride had no reason to use his shadow skills to tell stories to a small child—but Selim did, since Selim had always seemed to absolutely adore Elicia.

And it seems that that part was definitely not an act.)

“Yes, but Selim said it was a secret… oh,” Elicia’s lip wobbles as she stares at them. “But I just told you… will Selim be mad at me?”

“No, Selim won’t be,” Gracia hurries to reassure Elicia, taking her from Roy’s arms and holding her tight. “He won’t—once he comes back. Once—none of this makes sense, even if Selim does have shadow powers, why do you think that he’s affiliated with—”

Hughes leans over to cover Elicia’s ears before saying heavily, “Because I saw him. Right before I was shot—he was trying to convince the homunculus that was trying to kill me that killing me wasn’t part of the plan, and that homunculus called him Pride.”

Gracia stares at him in horror while Roy covers his mouth with his hand as the rest of his team also comes filing in.

“That’s—how—no—but Selim, he—he’s not—he loves Elicia, you know that, and—and he tried to save you—but—what—was he a spy or—” Gracia slumps down, into a chair, her face pale and hands trembling as she hugs Elicia close to her.

Hughes immediately crouches down, wincing a bit, and takes her hands in his. “I know—I know it’s a lot to take in—but he’s—he’s still our son, Gracia—the easiest thing would have been to kill me, but he’s worked this hard to keep me alive—”

“Not to break in on the giant revelation that Selim is a homunculus—we will definitely go find him after this, please don’t worry Gracia—but why did they want to kill you anyway?” Roy breaks in, nodding to Riza to guard the door and for Havoc to sweep Elicia away and watch over her. “What was so important that they had to silence you?”

(Trust Roy to get to the heart of the matter.

They have to stop this ‘Promised Day’ or whatever, or none of them will be alive to see out the rest of anything—

And who knows what will happen to Selim left alone with this terrible Father.

He’d already broken him this much. Wouldn’t what little remained of his humanity, the spark of human childishness that Hughes is absolutely certain is there, wouldn’t it be extinguished under this man who wanted to be a God?)

Hughes motions for Roy to come closer and whispers the details into his ear. Roy blanches the more he speaks, gripping the side of the bed hard, his nails going white.

“…then the Fuhrer has to be part of this as well,” Roy finally says, biting at his thumbnail. “And—and who knows who else. That’s why you tried to call me from a phone-booth. And that’s why they worked so hard to pin everything on Second Lieutenant Ross.”

Hughes nods. “To set up the entire thing—that would take most of the High Council.”

“And you’re saying—the last mark is in Briggs. ” Roy’s brow furrows further. “….could that be where Selim—Pride ran off to?”

(He hadn’t even thought that far yet.

It—makes a certain amount of sense.

Pride probably couldn’t return to this Father—his cover had definitely been blown, and this Father person didn’t sound like the kind of guy who would take news of failure kindly.

He wasn’t really certain how tasks were divided among these homunculi, but at least one of them would have to go off to Briggs to kick off enough violence to set up the last point on the circle.

Although good luck with that. They were sure to run into Major General Armstrong in that case, and Hughes has never met a more terrifying person.

But he’d even stand up to her to confront his son again.)

“I’ll go,” Hughes says immediately, giving Gracia another hug and Elicia a pat on the head before standing up. “I’ll go up there and—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mustang snaps, shoving him down by pressing a hand down on his shoulder. “You just woke up, there’s a government conspiracy out there that wants to kill you, and you just found out your son is actually some kind of shadow monster immortal spy—”

“He’s still my son, Roy,” Hughes says steadily, looking him in the eye. “He’s still Selim.”

“How do you know that?” Roy demands, looking him in the eye. “He’s been lying this entire time—he was specifically put with you to spy on all of us—”

“He went against direct orders from this ‘Father’ he keeps mentioning to keep me alive,” Hughes snaps. “He kept talking about getting me, Gracia, and Elicia to Xing before this Promised Day—even if he doesn’t admit it to himself, he’s grown attached.”

“Attached is one thing, and I’m glad he kept you alive, but what are we supposed to do from here?” Roy asks, his eyes narrowing. “If we see him at Briggs—”

“We stop him from completing the blood seal, and then I bring him home,” Hughes says firmly.

“And if he doesn’t want to come home with you?” Roy then turns to Gracia, still sitting quietly in the chair, staring at her hands. “Gracia—what do you think about all this?”

Gracia looks up at him, then bites her lip before turning to look at Hughes. “…I’m still processing all this and—and I will admit that I am very—he betrayed us before he even really knew us, but—all I can say is that I cannot believe that Selim doesn’t adore Elicia, and he has been our beloved son ever since we adopted him. His past—is extremely different from what either of us expected—but that doesn’t change the years and care we have all had, and—as Maes said, if he didn’t care for us in some way, why is Maes still alive?”

“And do you remember how he called you when Scar attacked me and the Elrics?” Hughes added. “He must have been there somehow with his shadow powers—based on what happened in the telephone booth, maybe he can stretch out his shadow form very far and listen in and talk there—Scar must have seen him, he said something about ‘shadows with eyes’. That’s how he knew about all of it to call you.”

“…be that as it may,” Roy says, pulling up a chair, sitting on it backwards, and folding his hands in front of him to prop his chin on. “Say that he does hold some kind of affection for you guys—sure, I can buy that, maybe. But when push comes to shove, what are you willing to do to stop him? And will he choose you over this Father he mentioned?”

(Hughes doesn’t know the answer to any of these questions.

All he knows is, he has to talk to Selim again—

He can’t let those be his last words to him.)

“If we don’t try, how will we ever know?” Hughes asks instead, reaching out and gripping Gracia’s hand tight. “Maybe he wants to change—and he just needs a push to realize that. Either ways, we have to talk to him.”

Roy lets out a long breath before glancing over at Riza. “Lieutenant, start making preparations for an expedition North.”

Riza salutes and reminds him, “You’ll need to call Major General Armstrong as well.”

“I can imagine the look on her face when she hears we’re coming,” Roy muses, a smirk appearing on his face. “She’s going to hate it. ”

“…you’re also coming?” Hughes asks, mentally tallying how much he’s going to have to grovel after he gets to Briggs (Roy, unlike the rest of the sane world, seems to take great pleasure in antagonizing Major General Armstrong for some reason. It’s probably a leadership thing that he’s just going to steer clear of).

“Well, you can’t go up there on your own—besides the fact that there’s a bunch of nigh-immortal homunculi after your ass, you also just woke up from a coma and still have a wound on your stomach,” Roy points out.

“And you can actually leave Central right now?” Hughes asks skeptically. “Weren’t you just investigating some lab or something? Which by the way, that place is definitely important.”

“Yes, I gathered when your son and Havoc’s now ex-girlfriend collapsed the ceiling over us and sealed off the main door before disappearing,” Roy replies coolly. “But that’s true, if I go, it’ll definitely look suspicious. Ah, Havoc, you go accompany Maes. Nothing like a trip up North for you to nurse your wounded heart—but don’t hit on Major General Armstrong unless you want to die.”

Havoc, having returned to the room, pales and says, “Uh—yes sir? But wait—is she also related to Major Armstrong—”

“She’s his older sister,” Hughes explains. “And she’s the Ice Queen of Briggs, and even all of them are terrified of her normally—much less after your boss here is probably going to antagonize her before throwing us at her.”

“Needs must, and besides, if I didn’t get a few jabs in, you know she’d steamroll right over me,” Roy comments before his expression goes serious again. “We have to go up to Briggs to stop the blood seal, that much is true—but are you sure you want to go, Maes? I can send someone else up there—”

“I don’t think Selim will listen to anyone other than Maes,” Gracia says quietly, also gripping Hughes’ hand tight. “He’s—bring him back. Stop him from doing whatever terrible thing he is doing, tell him we love him, and bring him back.”

“I will,” Hughes promises her, kissing her hand. “In the meantime—you and Elicia need to go to Xing.”

“What?” Gracia jerks her hand out of his grasp. “No—you just woke up again, and Selim is missing—”

“And Amestris is about to turn into some kind of giant human transmutation circle, and I cannot have you and Elicia here at risk for that—much less a target for any of these other homunculi,” Hughes argues. “Get to Xing—it must be safe since Selim wanted so badly to force us all there—”

“ Xing ? That is too far away—it’d take at least a month to even cross the desert—”

“But it’s one of the few countries we’re not having some sort of border dispute with,” Hughes says, smiling weakly at her. “You and Elicia would be safe there.”

“…Elicia has to be safe, but—I can’t just leave you here to deal with all this—”

“You’re not leaving me, you’re keeping our daughter safe,” Hughes says, reaching out to touch her shoulder. “You’re keeping her safe, so that when I bring our son back, she’ll be there to greet him with a big smile.”

Gracia twists her hands together, biting her lip, obviously torn. “…I hate this,” she whispers.

“I know,” he answers, hugging her tightly to him. “I hate it too—I want you guys here with me too, but that’s—that’s both selfish and dangerous, and Elicia deserves better than that.”

Gracia hugs him back tightly and wipes at her eyes with her hands. “…that’s true. I—I will go with Elicia, but Maes—you better stay alive, and you better bring our son back, alright?”

“Yes,” Hughes agreed, rubbing away the tears on her cheeks with his fingers as he presses his forehead against hers. “I swear.”

(He’ll bring him back or else—

Well, he’ll obviously still try his best to stop this monstrous plan, but if he somehow can’t bring Selim back—

He doesn’t know how he’ll be able to face Gracia or Elicia.

He doesn’t know how he’ll be able to face himself after that.

—He can’t think about it, all he can focus on right now is getting to Briggs, stopping Selim from cutting a bloody swathe through it, and then asking him to come back with him.

That’s all he can do.)

Chapter Text

Pride has been in a variety of unpleasant situations throughout the years.

There were the early years when Father was first setting up Amestris, it had been mostly all blood and dirt then. And he’s intervened a few times in the various wars they set up for the circle, so he’s also tromped through desserts, slugged his way through swamps, and trodden through snow, all for the sake of bloodshed and Father.

But Briggs—

Briggs is something else.

It seems to be in a constant state of blizzard, there are wild animals who start attacking at the slightest indication of heat, and it is cold —and Pride had thought he had been through cold before, but this is the kind of cold where even he needs to wear multiple layers or start shedding souls in order to heal up from frostbite.

Weirdly, Kimblee seems awfully cheerful, even whistling as he starts a fire in the tunnels, but that’s probably because he got to make a bunch of wolves and bears explode.

(He’s a pretty creepy human.

Effective and very useful, but Pride can’t wait until he doesn’t need him anymore and he can just devour him.

By then the blood seal will be done, and he can go home—

Although home is a bit of a weird concept right now.

He can’t go back to the Hughes house—although he is pleased to note through his goldfish apparatus that it seems they’ve at least taken some of his advice and evacuated off to somewhere—and with Father—

He had informed Father that with Hughes no longer needing to be under surveillance, he was going to personally oversee the Briggs blood seal creation, with a school trip as an excuse, leaving Lust to deal with Mustang like Father had instructed, and Father had simply waved him away.

He…hadn’t told him about how Hughes had completely blown his cover.

There’s—

He’s—

Really, if you thought about it—

…he has no excuse.

Hughes being not only alive and awake but also very very much aware of the homunculi and a great deal of their abilities and also how closely they had been watching him was something that could really derail Father’s plans, and he should immediately report it, and yet—

Let alone the delight Lust and Envy would probably take in his failure, Father might actually decide to reabsorb him.

Which is his right as his parent and progenitor, but—

He won’t get to see Elicia again.

Or Gracia, or Hughes—

He’ll never get to have ‘Tales of the Hinterlands’ read to him again, or have family movie nights, or have ice cream with cookies freshly baked from the oven, or entertain Elicia with shadow plays—

Not that he’ll ever be able to do any of that ever again anyway since by now the entire Hughes family has to know what he really is.

He’s a monster and a spy, and they probably all hate him now.

Which is fine—it’s not like he cares.)

“You seem down, Pride,” Kimblee notes, looking up from where he is tending to the fire. “Problems?”

“Hardly. ” Pride looks up from the flames to scowl at Kimblee. “This blizzard is just making it difficult to see and implement our plan.”

Kimblee shrugs, leaning back and propping his arms behind his head. “Well, I’m sure it can wait a little bit—after all, I assumed that Scar and Dr. Marcoh were to be my priority, but then you dragged me away from the hunt for this.”

“Are you complaining?” Pride asks, the shadows around him shifting and rising up.

( Please be complaining—it’d be a glorious release to finally be able to hit something bloody.)

Kimblee simply laughs politely, as though he’s at a dinner party or something. “Hardly. I am a little disappointed of course to leave my work in Ishval unfinished, but it will keep. You promised me that I could carve a bloody crest into Briggs, and I am very much looking forward to it.”

“…good,” Pride says, standing up and brushing the dirt off of his pants. “We can follow these tunnels all the way over to the Fort and the border. When we get there, we will have a number of options to complete the blood seal.”

Kimblee hums, stretching a bit. “True—although if we are to massacre the fort, we will need more people. I am formidable, but that is Briggs. I wouldn’t underestimate them.”

“You shouldn’t underestimate me, ” Pride says haughtily, allowing his shadows to open up their eyes and loom over Kimblee. “I can see right into that fort right now, and I don’t have a limit to who I can consume.”

Instead of looking frightened, Kimblee looks delighted. “Can you really? How does it fit in that tiny body of yours? …or are the shadows your true form, and that kid form you’re toting around just a container?”

(Kimblee is too sharp.

He probably needs to get the blood seal done as fast as possible and then eat him—that’ll limit the danger or any information getting leaked out.)

“You don’t need to concern yourself with that,” he says coldly, crossing his arms. “When we get closer to the Fort, I will be able to see more clearly and be able to determine our next steps.”

“So your shadows do rely on your kid form to some extent to stretch further,” Kimblee muses, standing up and putting his hat back on. “I was wondering why you insisted on walking around in that given how before I’ve only seen you as a shadow—still, I suppose it’s a good form for sneaking around. Most people won’t find a child suspicious.”

(That had been Father’s plan he supposes when he formed him.

And it’s definitely worked well throughout all these years—up until now, no one had figured out that Selim was Pride unless he specifically revealed himself to them.

So even if his siblings make fun of him for how small he is in comparison—

Well, it doesn’t matter, he has all of their abilities and more, he’s the first and best of all of them.

If that’s cold comfort right now when he’s stuck in some tunnels Sloth carved out with possibly the creepiest human in the world—

He’s had a bad couple of days, he’ll get over it.)

“Let’s go,” he says simply, walking forward and not bothering to look back and see if Kimblee is following after him.

The tunnels are thankfully warmer than outside and extensive (as they should be, considering how much effort he had to spend keeping Sloth on task and digging), and they don’t have to spend many days walking (they would be faster if it was just him since he doesn’t need to eat or sleep, but that’s what he gets for bringing along a human for help) before they get close enough to the Fort that Pride can stretch out his shadows and peer inside to get a look on the entire situation in there.

(Patrols—very well-armed and disciplined patrols, bristling with more weapons than those at Central, doesn’t seem like it’ll take much to tip them over to a bloodbath.

Lots of levels—thick doors, not easy to breach.

Drachma border beyond—also well-armed over on that side, definitely a good option.

It doesn’t matter after all who dies as long as a lot of them do here.)

He should check on the commander of this place—and so he follows along from where orders seem to be originating until he ends up in a big office where a statuesque woman with long, flowing blonde hair is tearing up a letter while looking coldly upon—

(No.

No way—

His wishful thinking has simply gotten out of control—)

Pride has to forcefully withdraw his shadows so that he doesn’t open wide any eyes there, and then stretch out again to take another look.

The scene hasn’t changed, and it’s still Major General Armstrong glaring at Second Lieutenant Havoc and—

Hughes.

Leaning against a crutch and looking a bit tired and as if he hasn’t seen a razor for a few days, but undeniably Hughes.

(What is he doing there?

He should be with Gracia and Elicia!

Or at least he should be back in Central, plotting away with Mustang—

Oh, he had probably figured out the last point they needed for the transmutation circle.

It wasn’t that hard to see if you knew the pattern—but why come here in person? He just got out of a coma , and obviously he can’t even walk without some kind of support—)

“Come on, Major General, you know we’re not Drachma spies,” Hughes says in a slightly exasperated tone, adjusting his glasses.

“True,” Armstrong acknowledges grudgingly. “Even if you were spying for Drachma, I’d imagine it would be as yet another part of Mustang’s sneaky little tricks.”

Havoc opened his mouth, “If you read Major Armstrong’s letter—”

“Alex has nothing useful to say to me,” Armstrong says disdainfully, her lips pursing into a contemptuous frown. “Especially not about any of Mustang’s lackies. Weren’t you still supposed to be in a coma?”

“That’s the official story,” Hughes acknowledges, propping his crutch by her desk so he could lean against the desk a bit.

Armstrong looks at him closely, her eyes narrowing as she steeples her fingers. “…I see. Is this another one of Mustang’s tiresome tricks, or are you actually carrying knowledge of some value to create this subterfuge and then make your way all the way up to my domain?”

“Would you believe me if I told you that there is something rotten in the heart of Amestris?” Hughes asks, glancing over towards the dark-skinned adjutant.

“I would say that’s obvious,” Armstrong answers, not bothering to dismiss her adjutant at all. “General Raven is here from Central as well—a tiresome man. But I’m sure he’d be less tiresome if I suddenly revealed that you are here, wouldn’t he?”

Hughes grimaces. “I would sincerely ask that you don’t.”

“You may as well get to the point then,” Armstrong says, leaning back in her chair. “Tell me what is so important that Mustang would send one of his most trusted men here to me for my help.”

Hughes begins to tell her the entire plan of the nationwide transmutation circle, explaining about the homunculi and Father and that the last blood seal is at Briggs (but nothing about the sacrifices, so perhaps at least he hasn’t figured out that part yet), and finishing with, “We have reason to believe that the homunculus Pride is coming here to finish off the job. He is very powerful—he can control shadows, and he can both see, hear, and travel through them.”

“How far?” Armstrong immediately demands.

Hughes shrugs. “Quite far I think—maybe all the way across a city, it’s hard to say.”

“Hm,” Armstrong looks up contemplatively then at her adjutant. “You seem to be saying that we have no way to stop him from getting in—but once he is inside, no matter how fast he moves, he is just one person, and we are Briggs. Unless he can carry other people through his shadows?”

Hughes shakes his head, getting out his wallet. “If he can, I don’t think he can bring that many. But—if he does come here—if you see a little dark-haired boy, like in this picture here—come get me first.”

Armstrong stares at the picture of Selim running at some school track meet (Hughes—didn’t burn all these pictures?) then back up at Hughes. “…isn’t this your son?”

Hughes manages to somehow arrange his weary face to beam at her. “He is! I’m so glad you remembered from the last time I showed you these photos—”

“From the day of that unfortunate event, I have decided that I will never suffer it again,” Armstrong says, shoving his wallet back. “ Why does this homunculus look like your son?”

“…if I say it’s a bit of a long story, but that essentially, I need to talk to him, would you accept that answer?” Hughes wheedles.

Armstrong glares at him. “No. What’s next—is your daughter also going to suddenly pop out and start murdering people?”

“Of course not! Elicia is off with my lovely wife on a trip abroad—I just need to get my son back as well,” Hughes says, rubbing his arm.

(…why is Hughes still calling him his son?

He’s not obviously—everything was a sham from the start, and now Hughes knows that.

What is there left to say?

And what does Hughes mean he wants to get him back—back so Mustang could start interrogating him?

Not the worst move, but ha, as if they could contain him.

Well, at least Gracia and Elicia seem to be safe—so maybe now all he has to do is convince Hughes of the futility of his actions and he’ll go join his family wherever they are.

…not that convincing Hughes was going to be easy since he had never seen Hughes falter in his support of Roy, but surely he could come up with something—at the very least, seeing him here and slaughtering people should give him some pause—)

“Problems?” Kimblee asks lightly, and Pride jolts out of his reverie and returns back to the tunnels to fully deal with the alchemist.

(He can’t let Kimblee know about Hughes.

It’d probably bring up too many questions, and Pride’s position is already weak as it is, he doesn’t need more aggravation that will probably lead him to prematurely devouring his only ally for miles around. )

“Nothing much,” he says stiffly. “Armstrong is around, which is a bit tricky, I’ve heard she’s difficult.”

“Armstrong? Ah, the eldest sister who is a Major General, correct?” Kimblee asks, his smile sharp. “I have never met her personally, but I have always wanted to. From what I hear, I think we have similar views.”

“Well, you’ll get your chance soon, although I’d advise you to attack first before she does,” Pride says, continuing his walk down the tunnels.

“A woman after my own heart,” Kimblee says, placing his hand against his chest. “And yes, that does seem to be a good strategy, which is why I have already confirmed with Wrath that Sloth should be used.”

Pride stops dead in his tracks and turns around slowly. “Sloth? Wrath? How—”

“I checked in with Wrath around when you were picking me up,” Kimblee shrugs lightly. “Wanted to give him a head’s up just so we could be sure of no government instruction. Imagine my surprise when he told me that Sloth was up here as well and toiling away! Another person I have yet to meet, but judging by these tunnels, I do think Sloth can carve us a path through Briggs if he so chooses.”

(He’s not exactly wrong, but the sheer gall of the man to go around him and contact Wrath.

And if Wrath knows where he is, Father probably does too by now.

…not that he’s worried—Father didn’t even want him watching over Hughes and Mustang any more since apparently Lust has that all handled, so it only makes sense to finish up the last blood seal.

It works perfectly within Father’s plan—

Although Hughes actually being here does prove something of a wrinkle to it.)

“…your initiative is impertinent but not imbecilic,” Pride says coldly, turning around and stretching out his shadows to seek out Sloth. “Sloth can rampage through and draw out Armstrong, and during the time she is attempting to deal with him, we can go to the Drachma border and incite them into launching an attack, perhaps.”

“Hm, that’s a bit of a narrow window though, and it may take a bit of time to convince them to launch an attack on the fortress,” Kimblee comments, stretching out his tattooed hands. “Are you not confident that Sloth can create enough bloodshed on his own for the seal?”

Pride snorts contemptuously. “If he was capable of that, Father would have long ago already ordered him to do so.”

“A fair point,” Kimblee mulls the idea over in his head. “Well—we’d have to give the Drachmans a big show for them to be able to tell that the Major General is outside her fortress. Still, that I can very much provide.”

“Fine,” Pride grits out, then starts walking along having located Sloth and already transferred most of his consciousness over in that direction so that he can better berate him for all his failings. “Sloth will need to have the new plan drilled into his head.”

--

It takes awhile because it always takes awhile to convince Sloth to do anything (dumb muscle has its uses, Pride will admit, but did Father have to create both Sloth and Gluttony?), but eventually he thinks Sloth gets the idea through his thick head.

“So you’ll burst out at the signal, right?” Pride asks again.

“Yes,” Sloth says dully, looking at the ground.

“And what’s the signal?” Pride prods again.

“When your shadows stab at me,” Sloth says, looking back up at him, something that maybe approached a hint of resentment in his voice.

“Remember that,” Pride says, before turning around and walking away. “You better be there when we give the signal.”

Kimblee seems more cheerful than usual at the prospect of violence, adjusting his hat to a rakish angle while whistling a tune as both him and Pride emerge from the tunnels near the fort.

It’s bitterly cold, because of course it is, but Pride endures for now as he glances around at the patrol, and then curses under his breath because of course there’s now some people standing up on the wall that weren’t there literally a minute ago.

(His luck has been absolute shit lately.

Was it because he had disobeyed Father?

Was this basically divine punishment?

Well—even if it was, surely he could make up for it with this.

Complete the blood seal, and that would at least be something that not even Lust could do, so there.)

“Hm, well that’s a bit of a bother,” Kimblee hums, spreading his hands out as he looks up at the walls. “It’d be better closer of course, but I can make it carry along the wall and get this started for Sloth a bit—”

“Wait,” Pride hisses, seeing the glint of glasses on one of the people’s faces up on the wall. He uses his shadows to immediately hold Kimblee in place as he reaches out to get a closer look.

(It is indeed both Hughes and Havoc up on the wall, Havoc smoking a cigarette while Hughes chats with him lightly about more pictures that he’s pulling out of his coat.

….damnit.

He needs to somehow get him out of there, he can’t have him in the way—)

“Exactly why are we waiting?” Kimblee asks mildly.

“Quiet,” Pride growls, his thoughts and plans running wild.

Kimblee’s eyes flick up to the walls, and his eyes narrow a bit. “…that’s Maes Hughes, isn’t it? I met him before during the war—a friend of Roy Mustang’s if I recall correctly. And also I believe—recently attacked and sent into a coma?”

Pride doesn’t bother to respond, glancing around the frozen tundra.

(He technically could just grab him and then dump him in the tunnels, but that would lead to problems later, because how exactly is he going to get Hughes out of the tunnels and towards civilization without Kimblee noticing—

He could punt him across the Drachma border, but then Hughes will probably get murdered by angry Drachma.

That wouldn’t do—if only he had just listened to him in the first place and gone off to Xing with Elicia and Gracia—)

“An intelligence officer, I believe…Not someone to really send out to Briggs. And not someone who should have gone unnoticed by you,” Kimblee turns his head to look at Pride. “Or did you already know he was here and decide to not mention it?”

“Why would I do that?” Pride retorts, drawing himself up.

“Why would you, that’s a good question,” Kimblee muses, looking as though he is relaxing on the beach except—his eyes are far too sharp for Pride’s liking. “I assume you and your compatriots were responsible for the attack on him given how far the conspiracy went to pin the blame on someone else—and yet, when you see him, you hesitate.”

“I do not,” Pride denies immediately.

Kimblee draws up an eyebrow. “So we are standing around here in this blizzard for our own benefit?”

“There are—other considerations we have to take into account—”

“No, I think for some reason, you’re hesitating,” Kimblee cuts in, leaning forward. “Interesting—I thought you homunculi considered humans as at best a necessary evil.”

“You are,” Pride replies, glaring at him hatefully.

“But he isn’t?” Kimblee asks, glancing up at the wall again and then back at him. “Hm. How did you ever become acquainted with Maes Hughes in the first place?”

“That doesn’t matter—”

“But it does intensely, when you are so conflicted,” Kimblee interrupts, his eyes fixed on him. “Strange—I have never seen any of you homunculi conflicted about anything before. You all had a purity of purpose I very much admired—”

“How dare you,” Pride growls, gripping Kimblee tighter and shaking him around a bit (god, why can’t he just kill him—). “I am Pride the Arrogant. I have lived longer than you, and I have seen more than your puny little brain could ever comprehend, and I have never faltered or flinched from anything Father has required of me—”

“Stop lying to yourself,” Kimblee suddenly hisses, his eyes narrowed into slits. “Never faltered and never flinched—aren’t we standing out here right now, inches away from completing your father’s plan, because you don’t want to kill someone?”

(That’s—

That’s just a modification to the plan—

It’s not essential to anything that Father wants after all, that Hughes is left alive in all this—

It’s just one soul out of the millions here—)

“Whatever you were before, you have clearly changed,” Kimblee continues, his voice relentless. “Let alone us waiting here—I already thought it was strange that Maes Hughes didn’t die in that attack all of you launched against him. Did he survive because you intervened?”

“That—he is Mustang’s best friend, him dying would have put Mustang on a warpath far too early—”

“Those are all excuses ,” Kimblee interrupts savagely, twisting in his grip. “You are still deceiving yourself about what you truly want and who you truly are.”

“I know exactly who I am—”

“Do you? Because you were the one who told me that homunculi were superior beings, and that the only place humans had in the natural world were as tools for your father,” Kimblee waves a hand up at the walls. “Exactly how is Maes Hughes benefiting the plan? Because as far as I can tell he is an obstacle that I should blow up right now—”

“If you try to hurt him, I will rip you to pieces while you scream—”

“Ohhhh, something true finally out of your mouth,” Kimblee grins savagely, baring all his teeth. “Isn’t that who you really are, Pride? Or—what was that human name you used as cover. Ah, yes—should I call you Selim, instead?”

(He is not.

He is Pride, not Selim—right?

Right?

So what if he doesn’t want to kill Hughes—Hughes was nice and kind to him, which is more that he can say about nearly all the people he has known in his long life—

But that doesn’t mean he wants to betray Father’s cause!

The entire reason for his existence was for Father’s plan—giving that up would mean—would mean—

Why is he even contemplating it?

There is no point in what he wants—hasn’t that always been the case?

Wasn’t that the entire reason he had derided Greed—because he had actually thought his own selfish little wishes and hopes mattered?

They don’t—none of them do—not in the face of Father’s plan—

Who cares if Hughes had always seemed so enthusiastic about the slightest thing he had shown interest in, buying him architecture books, taking him to museums, letting him pick out whatever he wanted from the library and patiently reading it all—

None of that matters since Hughes knows he’s a monster now, just another extension of Father’s will, and will probably attempt to stab him on sight and then bring him to Mustang.

In fact—in fact, why doesn’t he just go up there right now, and give him the chance?

Maybe that will finally crush his stupid stray thoughts and bring him back to reality.)

He immediately releases Kimblee (just let the bastard freeze to death here or get eaten by a bear, he hates him), and without even really thinking about it, he transports himself to on top of the wall.

Havoc has already gone inside, but Hughes is still there, leaning against the wall, and he whirls around with a knife out as soon as Pride appears behind him.

(See?

This was always going to be the end result here.)

“Hello, Papa,” Pride smiles at him while letting his shadows loom ominously above him.

Instead of going for the kill though, or even shrinking back, Hughes—he smiles back at him genuinely and resheathes his knife up his sleeve. “Selim! You’re here—I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to find you first—”

“You wanted first crack at killing me?” Pride asks sweetly, tilting his head as his shadows swarm forward. “You’ll find that difficult.”

Hughes frowns. “Kill—Selim, I don’t want to kill you—”

“Capture me for Mustang then,” Pride says, waving a hand lightly. “Still not a simple task—how will you keep me imprisoned even if you manage to defeat me?”

“Selim—I don’t want to capture you for Mustang or anything,” Hughes bends down a bit so that they can be closer to eye-level. “I just want—come back home, Selim. Gracia and Elicia are both waiting, and they miss you so much.”

(…this has to be a trick.

There is no way— )

“You think I believe that?” Pride sneers. “You think I care ?”

“If you don’t care, Selim, then why are we still talking?” Hughes asks quietly, looking him in the eye. “Why haven’t you just gone ahead and started up your plan to turn Briggs bloody—or just killed me yet?”

(Because—

Because—

Because— )

“You think you know me? I am older than you can imagine, I am ten thousand souls howling in the darkness, I have killed and consumed and reveled in it. This body is nothing more than just a vessel for me,” Pride snarls, letting some of his true self peak through his vessel, cracking it open and letting the eyes open wide and blinking at him. “I am not your son.”

“You are,” Hughes says steadily, not looking away. “You have done terrible things—but that doesn’t change the fact that Gracia and I made a promise when we took you in, and both of us still abide by that promise.”

(That doesn’t make any sense.

Why does he—

Promises made on false premises aren’t real—)

“And you made a promise to us and Elicia, when Elicia was born, do you remember?” Hughes continues, looking him in the eye. “When you first met her, we put her in your arms, and we said that you were going to be a big brother now—”

“—I said I’d be the best big brother ever,” Pride finishes numbly, tucking his true self away. “But that was a lie— ”

“No, it wasn’t,” Hughes says fiercely, reaching out and grabbing his hands. “You have always been Elicia’s adored big brother—she cried so hard when she realized you weren’t coming to Xing with her—and she loves you, shadows and all. We love you, no matter who you are, Pride.”

(That doesn’t make sense—

Nothing here makes sense.

Why is he being so nice?

Why is he saying that they still love him—that has to be a lie, a way to get him to lower his guard so that he can be captured and taken back—

But does that even matter—all he wants to do is go back and hug Elicia again, play with her, let Gracia read him stories, and have Hughes tuck him in at night—wouldn’t it be nice to just give in—to have everything he never knew he wanted—

No , if he does give in, there is still Father , and Father will not be forgiving.)

Pride shakes his head frantically, his hands tearing away from Hughes’ grasp and coming up to clutch at his hair. “That—it—that doesn’t matter , because Father’s Promised Day is coming, and no one can stop Father’s plans, and anyone who stands against him will just be melted down and become part of him—”

“I won’t let that happen,” Hughes says firmly, placing his hands on his shoulders. “Besides—wasn’t killing me part of this father’s plan? And yet, you stopped him. You intervened, and you did it successfully—here I am, alive and well, with all the information that should have marked me for death all told to Roy and everyone else that needs to be part of our counterattack.”

(He—

Yes, he had gone against Father’s orders and gotten what he wanted but—

That had been a small part of Father’s overall plan, and Father had been somewhat willing to overlook it only because he had thrown Greed under the bus and also that he was still useful to Father.

If he leaves—

If he truly breaks with Father the way Greed did— worse than Greed even because now he would be actively working against Father with the people opposing him—

There will be no mercy for him.

And not just that—Father will be sure to send the others to kill off Hughes and Gracia and Elicia just to prove a point to him, just like most of Greed’s compatriots were killed.)

“Father will kill us all,” he murmurs, staring out into the distance, sightlessly. “The only result in opposing Father is death—I am going to get everyone killed —”

“Selim—Pride—whatever you prefer to be called—you’re not, ” Hughes interrupts, gripping his shoulders tight. “Father would have tried to kill us all regardless—you’re part of the reason why we have a better chance at stopping him now.”

(…could that be true?

It felt heretical.

But he—

He—)

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he confesses, turning his head back to look Hughes in the eye. “I—I’m scared .”

Hughes immediately envelops him in a big hug, his nose brushing against Hughes’ shoulder as his familiar warmth surrounds him. “It’s okay, it’s okay—I’m here. We’re all here for you.”

(It’s stupid that he feels comforted by that.

It won’t make any difference—

But if he wants to keep the Hughes family together and happy, then he needs to keep Hughes alive, and apparently he can’t do that without rebelling against Father.

So even it’s hopeless—

He’ll go down fighting for them.)

Chapter Text

Greed listens to what Mustang is saying, and for solidly the next five minutes, he can’t stop laughing, even with Martel pounding his back, Dolcetto getting him some water, Ling nudging him in their mind, and Nina worriedly placing her head on his knee.

( Pride turned against Father.

Pride.

Their eldest and most insufferable of siblings, the one who was always prattling and lecturing all of them about how they were mere extensions of Father, so they should just obey.

The one who had fucking ratted him out and gotten Roa and Uichi killed, made the rest of his chimeras go on the run, and then gotten him melted down and all brainwashed again for Father, and then made him kill Bido—

No, Bido was his own fault.

…Wrath, Pride, Father, and the rest deserve some of the blame still, obviously, but in the end, he was the one who reached out and stained his hands with his own friend’s blood.

He’s surprised Martel, Dolcetto, and Nina can even look at him after that.

He’s not all that surprised Ed and Mustang can—Ed after all, has agreed to work for him, and Mustang needs all the help he can get.

Although now they apparently have two rebel homunculi.

He couldn’t wait until Father somehow got wind of this.)

“Pride, Pride, Pride, how the mighty have fallen,” he states, leaning forward, his grin sharp. “And you said he defected for—a human ?”

“Multiple humans I believe,” Mustang says clinically, frowning at some papers. “He definitely has grown fond of the Hughes family the entire time he was set there as a spy—I guess I shouldn’t be too surprised, if anyone could accomplish that, it’s Maes.”

He just stands there in silence for a while, boggling over the idea in his head.

(He hadn’t even realized Pride could care about anyone besides himself and Father—he had been willing to bet a sizable amount of his treasure on Father having flat-out designed Pride that way.

But then again, if Father had figured out how to bind loyalties that closely all the way back with Pride, Greed sure as shit should have also gotten the collar.

Still though—

Pride caring about anyone?

To the point that he actually went against Father and rebelled?

He’s not sure if the first thing he wants to do is laugh in Pride’s smug little face or shake this Hughes’ hand when they meet.

Although—

Hadn’t there been that time when he had been collecting Nina that Pride had just suddenly stopped when the Elrics and that guy with glasses had barged in?

At the time and up until now, he had assumed Pride had stopped because these people had all been potential sacrifices, but now thinking back, it could have been easy enough to swallow up all of them all at once, sacrifices or no.

Unless he had specifically not wanted someone to see him doing so—like his adoptive father, perhaps?

He was going to be making fun of Pride until the day they died. )

Aw, it’s nice that he reformed just for the sake of his family! Ling coos inside his head, and you did too, all for the sake of your friends—say, do you think we can flip the remaining homunculi if we manage to find humans they’re attached to?

Good luck finding anything Envy is attached to other than Lust, Greed shoots back before refocusing on Mustang and Ed.

 Ed’s face is currently scrunched up all the way, and he looks on the verge of yelling as per usual. “So—wait—Selim was Pride? Selim? The little brat who was always calling me ‘shortie’—”

“And whose face I smooshed into cake that one time, yes, that Selim,” Mustang rubs his brow. “Well—we have to give him credit for being a fantastic actor, I suppose.”

“Much good it’s going to do against any of Father’s forces, they’re going to know exactly what to be looking for as soon as they hear he’s defected,” Greed points out, tapping his fingers against his sleeve. “Do they know yet?”

“They might,” Mustang replies, looking back down at the report. “Pride told Hughes enough for Briggs to repel Sloth’s initial assault without too much bloodshed—no telling if they’re going to make another attempt though. Major General Armstrong is coming to Central with General Raven, so we’ll get her perspective soon, along with eyes in the Council.”

“You’re going to send Pride to spy on the Council? You have to let me be there when you tell him that,” Greed relishes.

“Probably the Major General will be our eyes and ears, but it’s a possibility,” Mustang muses, looking up at both him and Ed, and then his eyes drifting over to the group of chimeras. “What all of you need to do is stay low. The less Father knows the better, so Ed, why don’t you—”

“Hey,” Greed interjects while patting Nina on the head. “I’m the one in charge here, not Ed.”

Mustang gives him a look, then stares at Ed, who just shrugs.

“Well, sure,” Mustang says simply, also shrugging and then glancing at the blonde woman standing next to him. “We’ll figure out where to hide you guys—”

“With all due respect,” Martel cuts in, not sounding the least bit polite as she does, “I trust the military about as much as Dolcetto can drink, which is like barely.”

“Hey!” Dolcetto retorts, looking slightly offended, “Just because you can’t smell what’s in some of that moonshine we get, doesn’t mean I can’t drink—”

“And besides, we’ve done pretty well in hiding and getting away,” Martel continues lightly, ignoring him. “We’ll take the runt in but—”

“WHO THE HELL ARE YOU CALLING A RUNT YOU WEIRDO SNAKE LADY!”

“—we’ll leave off telling you. You guys don’t have the best track record, what with the Fuhrer being a homunculus, and apparently even accidentally adopting one,” Martel waves a hand around. “No offense.”

Mustang raises his eyebrows. “None taken. It’s probably for the best—everyone only knows what they need to know, and if anything happens, Second Lieutenant Havoc will come and find you guys—once everyone returns from Briggs. Just remember to keep a low profile.”

“Alright,” Greed nods then turns to his compatriots. “Let’s head out.”

They only make it out of the storehouse and past two abandoned alleyways before Ed speaks up, “You guys aren’t hiding in the sewers, right?”

“You think with Dolcetto’s prissy nose, we could hide in the sewers?” Martel asks incredulously, staring at Ed.

“Hey, you were the guys living in a shitty bar connected to the sewers before!” Ed protests.

“I’ll have you know that bar was great ,” Greed says adamantly, “The finest establishment in the Dublith underworld!”

Wasn’t Dublith a tiny town? How much of an underworld could there be? Ling asks.

A really extensive one when you have the scariest alchemist in the world living there, Greed answers, shuddering before refocusing on Ed with his hands on his hips in front of Nina.

“Well, a bar is a terrible place for Nina to hide!” Ed argues, “What she needs is an alchemist who can fix her—”

“And have you found one lately? It’s not like there a lot lying around,” Dolcetto points out.

Martel nods. “Yeah, we were looking for that Dr. Marcoh before, and Bido had a lead but—”

They pause again, falling into silence.

(He doesn’t know who to hate more in this moment, Father or himself.)

“…Marcoh? Tim Marcoh?” Ed asks, breaking the silence. “I know where he lives—or at least where he used to live, not sure if he moved—he probably should have.”

All of them perk up at that, including Nina, staring at him.

“Really?” Greed asks eagerly, “Can we go there?”

“Uh, what happened to keeping a low profile?” Ed demands.

Greed rolls his eyes and crouches down so he can hug Nina properly while looking up at Ed. “I can’t believe you—you really are part of the military, consigning this cute little chimera to a lifetime of pain and humiliation—and I thought you and Nina were friends—”

“Ugh, god, stop it!” Ed snaps, placing his hands on his hips and then glancing around. “I guess—well, technically his village is on the way home—let me talk to Al, and then we’ll see.”

“I mean if we need to keep a low profile, just one of us could go with Nina,” Dolcetto suggests. “We don’t need to take everyone.”

“We definitely will if the other homunculi managed to find him,” Ed grumbles while shuddering a bit.

“It’ll probably go alright, I’m pretty sure Pride was supposed to be in charge of finding him, and now that he’s actually defected , Father’s got a lot more to worry about now,” Greed says gleefully.

(How he wishes he could see the old man’s face when he finds out.)

Ed chews his thumbnail. “I feel like they’ll still send someone else—like what about that Envy?”

“Oh, Envy,” Greed waves a hand dismissively. “You can rile them up easy by just insulting their appearance, I wouldn’t worry that much about Envy. We just need to be the ones to find the doctor first. Right, good, we have a plan now, so let’s get drinks!”

“Uh boss, no offense but—are you even legal to drink right now?” Martel narrows her eyes at him. “How old is that body you’re using?”

Greed refuses to say anything, but of course Ling picks this time to pry open his mouth and say brightly, “Hi, I’m Ling Yao, and I’m 15!”

Both Martel and Dolcetto’s eyes widen, and even Nina tilts her head a bit. Greed curses out Ling in his head, and then awkwardly laughs and rubs the back of his head. “I mean—when have we ever really cared about the legality of things, right guys?”

“We care when you’re in a growing body, and I’m pretty sure alcohol stunts growth and hormone production in teenagers,” Martel snaps, folding her arms.

“Yeah boss, you don’t want to get stuck at his height, do you?” Dolcetto adds, jabbing a thumb over at Ed.

“I’m already taller than him! Besides you guys forget—I’m a homunculus , I can repair any damage anyway!” Greed protests as he holds off a screaming Ed from flat-out just trying to rush at Dolcetto.

“But like, you’ve never had to repair a real human body, have you?” Martel asks doubtfully. “I’m not even sure your old body had all the usual organs, much less hormones.”

“He had something going on there,” Dolcetto rolls his eyes, pointing at his nose. “Which is another thing—I don’t think you can pick up chicks for the meanwhile, that’s super creepy.”

“He can’t anyway, Lan Fan would murder him,” Ed says immediately, crossing his arms.

“Lan Fan wouldn’t murder me, although she could certainly try,” Greed says with a wolfish grin.

Hey, no perving on my bodyguard unless she gives you permission to, Ling warns.

I’m just saying she can try to kick my ass anytime, Greed protests, It’s hot.

Yeah, I know, but stop imagining weird stuff.

Fine I won’t, I’ll just use stuff you imagined.

….that’s also weird. Fine, you can imagine stuff, but you still need to talk to Lan Fan next time we see her.

(He hasn’t actually met Ling’s beloved bodyguard yet per say, but based on all of Ling’s memories of her, he thinks she’ll be a delightful storm.

Someone that was willing to cut off her own arm for her prince? That was hardcore, and he loved that.

It was bonus that she was a deadly ninja, Greed always did have a weakness for assassins….

There might be a slight problem with having technically possessed her beloved prince, but after all, it’s not like Lan Fan can kill him without killing Ling at this point.

Also, he’s giving them the Philosopher’s Stone that they need for Ling to ascend to emperor, so if you thought about it that way, Lan Fan should be thanking him?

Oh, right, emperor-ship….if everything goes according to plan and they somehow manage to survive all this, he can’t wait to rub it in Pride’s smug little face.)

“Who’s Lan Fan? Does this poor boy have a girlfriend you’re also dragging into this mess?” Martel demands, pointing at him.

“Hey, he’s the one who asked for this!” Greed immediately retorts. “He’s a bonafide Xingese prince, with a bodyguard named Lan Fan, you know! And with me and my Philosopher’s Stone around, he’s going to be emperor.”

Both Martel and Dolcetto dubiously eye Greed’s body and then Martel says doubtfully, “…sure, boss. Anyway—Ed, right? Go find your brother, and we’ll meet up with you guys at Mustang’s safe house later.”

Ed nods and goes to find his brother while Greed follows his chimeras to their new haunt, picking through the sewers to reach a small shack under a disused bridge.

“It’s not a lot, but it did pretty much keep us safe,” Martel explains, taking Nina over from Dolcetto’s arms and setting her down on a nest of clean blankets they had arranged thickly.

“Any patrols down here?” Greed asks, sitting down and petting Nina’s head.

“Some, but Dolcetto can usually sniff them out, and Bido does patrols—”

They all fall into awkward silence again at that, staring at the fire that Martel has started.

“I—I’m sorry,” Greed says, staring into the flames, rubbing his hands against his pants. “I—”

“It’s not your fault, boss,” Martel says in a tired voice.

“Yeah—you weren’t in your right mind,” Dolcetto says in a low tone.

“That doesn’t make it right!” Greed exclaims, rubbing a hand over his face, “You were all gearing up to kill Bido’s killer—”

“And then we found you instead,” Martel says simply, placing a hand on his knee.

(He remembers, having gone in a fury and shock filled daze from Wrath, then having been beaten back by the combined forces of Wrath and Lust, and then Ling having taken over and apparently taken them to one of Mustang’s safe houses, the door had slammed open, and revealed a furious looking Dolcetto with his sword already drawn out, and a Martel who was all coiled up and looked ready to see some blood.

“That’s him,” Dolcetto had growled out, glaring at him as his nostrils had flared. “That’s the bastard who killed Bido—his hands are covered with the smell of his blood.”

Greed had stared down at his hands that were indeed red with blood—his, Bido’s, Wrath’s, Lust’s, all mixed there. “Yeah,” he had just said duly, looking up at them.

Both Martel and Dolcetto paused though, staring at the ouroboros tattoo on his hand before Martel asked slowly, “Dolcetto—is that—can you smell if—if that’s—”

“….boss?” Dolcetto had whispered, lowering his sword slowly. “Boss is that—is that you ?”

And after that it had just been everything dissolving into tears, Dolcetto going to bring Nina out of the safe spot they had stowed her away in the alley, and Mustang’s lackey looking bemusedly on until both Mustang and Ed had come to see what exactly was going on.)

Greed moves away from her touch, wrapping his coat more tightly around him. “Well, you got it right. You did find his killer.”

Both Dolcetto and Martel are silent at this for a moment before Nina opens her mouth and says in her odd voice, “Gr-Greed.”

Greed quickly looks over and lays a hand on her head, rubbing her fur. “Hey, what’s the matter? Does it hurt a lot? We’ll find someone soon, to help fix you—I promise, Nina.”

(He needs to at least keep this promise to one of his chimeras.)

Nina butts against his hand, then shifts a little and says slowly, “S-sad. Don’t. Greed.”

(Does she know that he killed Bido as well?

She was combined with a dog like Dolcetto was, so she should have been able to smell it—but her shitstain of a father had done a really botched job of the entire thing, primarily it seemed trying to preserve her ability to talk, so who really knew what enhanced dog senses she had.

But she had to know that Bido was gone—

It sucks.)

Greed hugs Nina and says softly, “Alright, I’ll try. You go to sleep Nina, okay? We’re going to be traveling a lot soon—will be nice too, get you some fresh air. You’re a growing girl, you shouldn’t be stuck in the sewers so often.”

Dolcetto comes over to hug Nina too, handing her a little satchel. “Here you go kid—got some sandalwood, I think you’ll like it. And—boss, don’t beat yourself up over it. We—we’re all in mourning, but—it’s your Father’s fault in the end, and we’re going to go fuck him up, and that’s what Bido would have wanted, right?”

(What Bido probably would have wanted above all other things was to be alive, but—

Well, he can’t give him that, so he supposes revenge will have to do as a cold comfort of sorts.)

I think he’d be happy that you’re alive, Ling notes.

And then I killed him, Greed replies harshly, I think that would kill any goodwill he had left for me.

Ling is silent for a bit before saying slowly, You weren’t yourself at the time.

Weren’t you the one who told me that things that have become part of a soul can’t ever be fully washed clean or forgotten? I am who I always have been, Greed argues, For better or for worse.

True but—without our memories, who exactly are we? Ling muses, some things linger, and some things stay the same, but certain connections can’t be made without our memories to back them up. As the poet Li Shangying said, ‘How could these feelings, then, become

enduring memory,

Which, at the time, were full, themselves,

of disappointment’s shade?’, which also reminds me of another poem by him—

If you don’t stop reciting poetry, I will not eat for an entire day, Greed threatens. Why do you have so much poetry floating around in your head anyway?

A true Xingese prince is both a warrior and a gentleman, Ling replies primly, and a gentleman is well-educated and can throw in literary references to embellish his views.

That’s rich coming from someone who I think all of Central’s restaurants have a notice out for as a known dine and dasher.

….a prince also has to survive first. And I’m a growing boy!

Greed snorts and then looks up at where Martel and Dolcetto had made a small makeshift bed for him as well, between the two of them and with Nina at arm’s reach so he settles down there and decides to sleep.

(It’s not really something that homunculus absolutely need to do—their Philosopher’s Stones can drive them for days—but given the rundown state he’s in, and also as Ling points out, it’s not exactly his own body anymore, it seems like a good idea.

He definitely can’t let Ling’s growth suddenly stunt—what if Pride turning against Father meant he somehow unlocked a secret ability to age and grow taller? Pride was insufferable enough as a tiny child, he’d be absolutely unbearable if he managed to also finally be taller than all of them.)

“Good night, boss,” Dolcetto mumbles, holding his sheathed sword like a teddy bear.

“We’re really glad to have you back, boss,” Martel adds.

(…it is nice to have his chimeras all back in one place again.

Or at least—most of them.

Bido of course, and Roa and Uichi.

Wrath needs to die over and over again for both of them.

Pride—well technically they’re on the same side now, so for now he’ll hold back maybe, but if Martel and Dolcetto want to slice him up, that’s their business.)

--

The next day, both Elric brothers show up at their meeting location, agreeing to go with them to Dr. Marcoh’s village, although Al seems a bit leery of Martel.

“You control a guy once, and he’s got trust issues,” Martel throws her hands up and sighs.

Al shivers, rubbing his arms. “It felt really weird!”

“Yeah, I get that,” Dolcetto comments, easily avoiding the elbow Martel tries to stick in his stomach.

Greed marvels at how Al somehow manages to get the great big hulking piece of armor that’s his body to shrink away from Martel and then brighten up a bit when he sees Nina. “Nina! Oh—Ed told me you guys had her, but I haven’t seen her for so long—Nina, do you remember me?”

Nina nods as Al points at himself, saying slowly, “A-Al….”

Al somehow looks like he’s about to burst into tears. “That—that’s right, Nina! We’ll—we’ll get you to Dr. Marcoh, and then—and then see what he can do, okay?”

“What, you don’t think he can fix her all the way?” Greed demands, gesturing for Dolcetto to cover up Nina’s ears. “Isn’t he supposed to be a genius with Philosopher’s Stones or something?”

“Sure, but—this isn’t like them,” Ed gestures at Martel and Dolcetto. “The initial part of creating a chimera is done—to fix Nina—I think that would require first undo a lot of what has already been done, and I don’t know—hopefully Marcoh knows more about keeping her alive through the process, and also I hope he still has a Philosopher’s Stone or something, because I honestly can’t figure out how anyone would manage to do so without one, and I really, really, really want Nina to be fixed.”

(He really does too.

He wanted to ever since he got her—what her father did to her was absolutely awful, it’s scary to think that there’s some humans who can rival Father in sheer malice towards their children—but now it feels like—

Does it count as atonement if he fixes one chimera having killed another?

It really doesn’t but—

But isn’t it worth a shot anyway?)

Greed glances down at his chest. “Well— I have a Philosopher’s Stone—”

Everyone starts shouting at him at that, including Ling in his head.

“No way, we just got you back!” Martel says, jabbing a finger into his shoulder.

“You’re insane boss, you’d die!” Dolcetto says, grabbing his shoulders.

“What good would that do?” Ed demands, kicking at him. “You still have to help us against Father, you coward!”

We still need that Philosopher’s Stone to become Emperor! Ling reminds him.

“Stop kicking him Ed—but Ed’s right, you shouldn’t sacrifice yourself for Nina—we don’t even know if it would work!’ Al protests, pulling Ed away.

Nina herself even weakly grabs onto the leg of his pants with her jaw, tugs it a few times, before letting go and shaking her head while saying, “Gr-Greed…stay…”

Greed’s heart twinges at that (or Ling’s heart? Either/or), and he crouches down so he can rub Nina’s ears a bit. “Hey—okay kid, I’ll stay. But we’re getting you fixed, you hear me? Whether or not we have to hunt down another homunculus to do it—and I vote for Envy in that case.”

“Wow, just sacrificing one of your siblings like that?” Ed snarks with a frown.

Greed shrugs. “I mean, you’ve met them, do you blame me? Also, in case you forgot, they killed me once—and they killed Roa and Uichi.”

“And Bido,” Martel adds quietly, crossing her arms.

“…and Bido,” Greed echoes even if his stomach curdles unhappily at the thought of who really to blame for that.

You’ll tie yourself up in knots like that, Ling chides, Carry the guilt, but don’t let it crush you.

And how exactly do you expect me to do that? Greed demands, And don’t start with eating or reading poetry, that won’t work.

I mean those, are both valid options, Ling says serenely, But also there’s toppling Father and avenging Roa and Uichi and Bido. Oh and also, you can’t possibly die before seeing Pride again, can you? You were looking forward to it so much!

Greed relaxes a little. …that’s true. It’d really be a shame to not be able to laugh at him to his stupid smug small face.

That’s the spirit, Ling encourages, Think of the sheer joy of it! Being able to slap the faces of all my brothers who looked down on me is what powered me through all the training Fu put me through.

Greed nods in satisfaction (this is probably another reason why his Philosopher’s Stone had managed to resonate with Ling, and also why Ling hadn’t been entirely consumed by him). Are we likely to meet any of your brothers here? Can I just kill them after letting you out to laugh in their faces.

If they attack me—which they are almost sure to, or poison me—sure, Ling responds in a thoughtful voice, But I don’t think any of them are here—none of my other brothers are that smart, and many of the other clans don’t have the resources to send someone across the desert.

“You know, it’s really weird when you’re talking to Ling,” Ed says conversationally, “Your face keeps changing. Are the two of you done with your little heart to heart so we can go now?”

“Hey, remember who is in charge here, kid,” Greed immediately barks, setting his hands on his hips.

Ed rolls his eyes and then says, “Sorry, do you know the way to Dr. Marcoh’s village?”

“Nope, but I am delegating the task of directions to you,” Greed says haughtily, “That’s a leader skill you know, delegating.”

“Uh-huh,” Ed replies then looks over at Martel and Dolcetto while jerking his thumb back at Greed. “So when he says he was in charge of you guys, who was usually ‘delegated’ the task of actually having a plan.”

“Me,” Martel responds at the same time that Dolcetto makes a see-saw motion with his hand and says, “Wellllllll….boss has great ideas, but sometimes he needs some help with the details you know.”

“Hey!” Greed protests, slightly affronted. “I can plan!”

“No offense boss, but like the only reason the Devil’s Nest never got shut down before you know, the entire disaster, was because Martel and Roa were filling out all the paperwork and permits and tax returns on time,” Dolcetto said apologetically.

“That’s delegation, ” Greed emphasizes. “I was still the one in charge of things.”

“Yep boss, you’re in charge,” Martel says, patting him on the back.

Ed rolls his eyes again (ugh, teenagers) and says in a smarmy voice, “Big Boss Greed sir, will you do us humble servants the privilege of embarking on the journey?”

Greed nods seriously, inclining his head. “Lead on, good servant Edward Elric.”

After Al holds Ed back from attempting to murder him again (all the sense in the Elric boys went towards Al, didn’t it), the seven of them set off for Dr. Marcoh’s village. It’s a lot of walking and taking trains and making train connections (all of which Ed pays for because after all, the kid has a salary, and Greed would be damned before he let any of his chimeras part with any of their hard earned/stolen/swindled cash).

Finally getting to the village, Ed finds “Dr. Mauro” fairly easily, who turns out to be a mild-looking older man, with a creased face and a worried expression.

He freezes seeing the mark on Greed’s hand, but Ed quickly reassures him, “It’s alright, he’s on our side.”

“…really,” Marcoh says slowly, looking at Greed with wary eyes. “Are you sure of that?”

“They’re all on my side,” Greed insists, gesturing at all of them there. “I’m the one in charge here, and you’re going to help us fix Nina here.”

Dr. Marcoh glances at Ed who just shrugs. “He’s crazy but he means well. Seriously though—he hates Father as much as any of us. Maybe more.”

“Definitely more,” Greed interjects. “Did you have to spend nearly 200 years with him and then get all your friends and yourself killed by him?”

Martel blinks, and Dolcetto turns to look at him, his eyes wide.

“What?” he demands, looking at them.

“It’s just—” Dolcetto coughs awkwardly and rubs the back of his head, glancing at Martel before glancing at him again. “That’s the first time you’ve called us your friends.”

(Oh.

…well they are.

Friends—you can be friends with people who are yours as well.)

Awwwwww, Ling coos in his head, and Greed can practically see him clasping his hands, you finally admit it!

Shut up.

“Well, what of it?” Greed says, sticking his nose up high. “You’re both my friends and my chimeras.”

Both Martel and Dolcetto grin at him, and Martel reaches out to pat him on the back. “Sure, boss. We’re yours, and you’re ours.”

“…you really are different,” Marcoh says slowly, drawing forward for the first time and then crouching down to take a look at Nina. “And this—she’s a chimera?”

“Yes, dog and human, but done very badly, so she appears to be in pain a lot,” Greed says, also crouching down so he can smooth down Nina’s ears. “Of course, if you could undo the entire thing, that’d probably be the best, but I imagine that’s pretty impossible. Getting her to be like Dolcetto over there would be really good too, but—not sure how plausible that is.”

“…I have some imperfect Philosopher’s Stones,” Marcoh says slowly, examining Nina. “They might be enough to at least get her into a more human form—but I cannot be certain. I’d have to research some things, and I may have to examine—Dolcetto, is it? I would probably need to examine him as well. My specialty was not chimeras, and I could certainly use a successful example.”

“That’s fine,” Dolcetto is already undoing his sword and handing it over to Martel as he starts to undo his belt. “I’m pretty used to alchemists poking and prodding me. You got an examination room or something?”

“Uh—yes, this way please,” Marcoh escorts them further into the house, and calls out over his shoulder. “Please make yourselves comfortable—there’s some tea in the cabinet if you would like to make some, and there’s not much in the fridge, but there should be some bread at least.”

“Remember to tell him that you still lift up your leg when you go pee!” Martel calls out to them as she sits down at the table.

Dolcetto covers Nina’s eyes before flipping her off, and then follows Marcoh further into the house.

“How long do you think it’ll take?” Greed asks, glancing around the house (not much there—he really did seem to be living a quiet life and trying not to draw notice. Unusual for alchemists recruited by Father—he might actually be somewhat decent, and Greed won’t have to kill him).

Ed shrugs. “Not my specialty either.”

“What is your specialty anyway? Making weird sculptures, ripping your shirt off, and punching people?” Greed asks, opening the fridge to look through it.

“Also breaking his automail and making Winry mad at him!” Ling uses his mouth to brightly add.

Ed gnashes his teeth. “I’ll have you know I was the youngest State Alchemist ever .”

“Oh, woohoo, you got to be a dog of the military even earlier, so proud of you,” Greed says sarcastically.

“Ed is really good,” Al pipes up loyally. “He’s almost as good of a fighter as me, and you know, he did figure out how to beat you.”

“Yeah, but did he actually beat me? Nope, Wrath had to come in and finish me off,” Greed argues.

“That’s because you ran away !”

Greed waggles a finger at Ed. “One of the first rules of combat is learning to run away, weren’t you ever taught that?”

“I don’t think Teacher understood what running away even is,” Al says gloomily, poking at the floor.

Ed shudders. “You say that, but she did stop trying to beat him up to come get me at the time…”

Greed snaps his fingers. “Oh, that awesome housewife, she was cool. Martel, did you meet her? I think you would have liked her.”

“Bit busy keeping Al down at the time, boss,” Martel says gesturing over at Al. “Based on what I heard though, I guess she sounds cool. Although she also brought one of your asshole siblings over—by the way, I can’t believe that one of your siblings was the Fuhrer, and you didn’t even bother to tell us!”

“Hey, they made him after me, I had no idea!” Greed protests. “He’s a different model than any of us—although I guess a bit like me and Ling right now.”

Martel props her head in her hand as she looks at him. “So what’s the deal with a Xingese teenager who would let you share his body anyway?”

Ling clamors to tell her, so Greed switches with him so he can regale her with his long quest to become emperor. By the time Ling finishes the story, both Marcoh and Dolcetto have returned and also caught the end of the story, and both Dolcetto and Martel are staring at him.

“So—you’re really a prince?” Dolcetto asks.

“What, you didn’t believe me?” Greed demands.

“Well, you used to call yourself a crime boss, when you were really only our boss,” Martel points out. “And Dublith wasn’t that big of a town—”

“But we were the main source of crime in town,” Greed reasons.

“Yeah, but that was mainly like, bootlegging,” Dolcetto points out. “And I guess gambling and fight clubs—but that was pretty much it. That’s different from royalty and an empire .”

“He’s still just Ling,” Ed scoffs. “Greed and Ling—should we just call you Greedling? You know I like the sound of that…”

“ I don’t,” Ling complains.

“And neither do I,” Greed emphasizes before turning to Marcoh. “So—spill. Is it possible?”

“…clearing up her internal organs, I can do for sure. The rest—it’s going to be tricky,” Marcoh says slowly, looking over at Nina. “I will try my best, and it’s certainly possible, but I can’t—I can’t guarantee her safety.”

Greed looks at Nina and gently takes her paw. “Nina…what do you think? It’s your life and your body—do you want the nice doctor to try and fix you, even if it might—if it might hurt? Or—or if you don’t—”

“She’s only like four,” Martel interjects, also crouching in front of Nina and smoothing back her hair. “Can she really make that decision?”

“Can we make it for her though?” Dolcetto asks uneasily, scratching the back of his neck. “That feels a little—I don’t know, I don’t want to make that kind of decision for her.”

“Well, someone has to,” Martel snaps, looking at him. “Of course I want her to be able to be a little girl again, but is that worth potentially her life —is there a way you can stop and keep her alive if you see it not working?” she demands, looking at Marcoh.

“I can do her internal organs first,” Marcoh says slowly, crouching down to get a better look at Nina. “After that—I only have so many of the stones, and I think it’s going to take all of them to get close, I’m sorry.”

Nina nudges both Greed and Martel’s legs before saying slowly, “I—like not hurt? Would like—to be able to play again…go to park…make friends…”

Both Ed and Al look on the verge of tears, Ling is wailing a little in his head, and Greed isn’t doing all that much better.

(Nina deserved so much better than this.

And if she wants to be able to play again with other kids—

Well, then they’re just going to have to risk it.)

Greed carefully covers up Nina’s ears before asking Marcoh, “…can you knock her out so that if something really does happen—she won’t feel it?”

“Of course, I was always going to anaesthetize her,” Marcoh immediately reassures him.

“Wait really? It won’t mess with the process?” Martel demands.

“N-no, as long as you account for it on the alchemical process—the calculations are a little complex, I grant you, but I’ve done those before,” Marcoh says in a slightly bewildered tone.

Martel curses under her breath as Dolcetto growls, “Those motherfuckers— knew they were lying about that.”

Marcoh’s eyes widen, and he draws in a sharp breath, “Then you guys—without any anaesthesia? My lord…”

“Yeah, it wasn’t a fun process,” Martel says simply, rolling her shoulders back before stroking Nina’s fur. “But you’re going to make sure she can’t feel a thing, right?”

“Yes—Edward and Alphonse, if you would please help me check over my calculations, it’s always good to get an extra alchemist’s eye on things…”

The alchemists spend a few days going over calculations and theorems and whatever else alchemists really need to read through (Ling says some stuff about qi, but Greed doesn’t really get it, and in the end, Ling also has to admit that he’s not an alchemist, or knows any alkhahests as he calls them). They all also spend time with Greed to make Nina comfortable, bringing over her favorite food, making sure she gets to spend time walking slowly through the gardens, and just showering her with as much love as they can.

(In case they can’t later on.)

Then—

It’s time.

Greed, Martel, and Dolcetto hold Nina close as Marcoh carefully injects her with something to knock her out for the duration of the procedure, and then they lift her into the room that Marcoh has prepared with etched on circles, chalk, and all the other equipment that alchemists need.

“If you want to stay, you are welcome to, but I warn you—it will not be a pleasant sight or something for the faint of heart,” Marcoh warns, putting on gloves.

“We’re staying,” Greed says immediately. “She needs to know we’re here.”

Martel nods firmly before jerking a thumb at Greed. “Besides—we were soldiers before, experiments for awhile, and then we joined up with this doofus who thinks that bashing his head in with a hammer and then regenerating it is a cool party trick. There’s not much that can turn our stomachs.”

Dolcetto also nods, and Ed and Al don’t look like they’re going to budge, so Marcoh sighs before taking out some chipped looking Philosopher’s Stones and saying, “Well then—let’s begin.”

For all their talk and everything Greed has seen in his long life—it is gruesome. Sinews tear, blood flows, flesh shifts and twists in unnatural ways, but Nina keeps breathing, and since even Ed who looks as if he’s about to hurl hasn’t run off, it’s not like Greed can.

“Come on, Nina,” he whispers as Marcoh sweats and Nina’s paws start to shrink and look a bit more human. “You can do this—brave girl, strong girl, you survived your father, and you can survive this .”

The light flickers, and all the Philosopher Stones at once crack, and a blinding light envelopes the entire room —

And when Greed finally forces his vision to refocus while screaming at Ling about why his human eyes can’t focus faster ( I’m sorry, that’s literally how they work! ), he sees—

A brown haired girl curled up there on the table.

Her—her hands have dog-like claws instead of nails, and it looks like she still has a tail, and there’s still some fur on her shoulders and back, but—

But she’s breathing, and as she opens her eyes and looks at him, she croaks out, “…Greed?”

“Hey, hey, Nina, we’re here, we’re all here,” he says quickly, all of them immediately crowding around her.

“How are you feeling, baby?” Martel asks, her trembling hand stretching out to tuck back a strand of her hair behind her ear.

“Better,” Nina nods, very slowly sitting up and so slowly, a smile stretches across her face as she examines herself. “I don’t hurt! And—and I have thumbs again!”

“Yes Nina, you have thumbs again,” Dolcetto blubbers, scrubbing at his face while leaning forward then back, “Can—can we hug you?”

“Yes! Then I want to go play on the monkey bars!” Nina cheers, throwing her arms around Dolcetto.

And as all of them pile in, hugging her and shouting and laughing, Greed doesn’t even have time to mock Ed for his tears and wailing because he’s too busy crying too.

(If they can turn back the laws of alchemy to undo all the harm to Nina—

Why can’t they defeat Father?

They have all of them—and they even have Pride now and the man who even made Pride, stalwart son, turn.

They can win this, and he can avenge Bido and Roa and Uichi.

He can make everything worth it.

Although right here, right now—

It was worth everything just to see Nina be able to sunnily smile at all of them.)

Chapter Text

By the time they get off the train, Hughes isn’t sure if Havoc or Selim is more pleased that their journey back to Central of hiding from General Raven while still liaising with Major General Armstrong was finally over.

Havoc is a puddle of stress, practically plastering himself down on the ground of the safehouse and spilling his complaints to Falman, while Selim just reappears from the shadows in the safe house, brushing the dirt off his clothes and looking around with an expression of feigned disinterest.

(Selim is—

It’s definitely strange, knowing his son is actually around 300 years old and can control shadows and is an incarnation of Father’s pride, Hughes can’t lie about that.

Seeing him throw the monstrous Sloth back from the walls of Briggs when even a tank manned by Major General Armstrong was barely making a dent surely gives him a bit of pause.

But at the same time—

Selim is still Selim, a boy who likes scary stories, has a sweet tooth, possesses a penchant for riling people up, and adores Elicia.)

“We should probably give a call to Mama and Elicia now that we’re back,” Hughes suggests, sitting down by the secured phone line.

Selim brightens up, immediately trotting over to sit by him. “Yes! But—what—what does Mama—Gracia—what does she know? And what does Elicia know?”

“Mama, not Gracia,” Hughes insists, shuddering inwardly when he thinks of when Selim actually tried calling him ‘Hughes.’ “And—Mama knows pretty much everything. She just wants you home though—Roy said that she was beside herself to hear that you came back. And all Elicia knows is that you went away for a little while, but now you’re back.”

Selim frowns, his hands moving restlessly against the table. “…do you want me to hide it from her?”

“You don’t have to hide anything you don’t want to hide,” Hughes says firmly, looking him in the eye. “Elicia will love you regardless.”

Selim’s shoulders relax just a bit. “…of course she would. Well, what are you waiting for? I’m sure Mama is waiting anxiously, and Elicia too.”

Hughes smiles at him and dials the number. They wait a bit as the phone rings, and very quickly, the call is picked up and Gracia asks breathlessly, “Hello?”

“Gracia, it’s me,” Hughes says, not bothering to hide the silly expression on his face (he gets to hear his wife’s voice again at long last!). “And Selim is right beside me.”

“Selim!” Gracia gasps, and then a sound like sob rings out before she gathers herself back together and asks eagerly, “Maes, can you—does he want to talk to me?”

Hughes looks over at Selim and holds the phone out. “Mama is here, do you want to talk to her?”

Selim looks at the phone as though it’s a live snake (or maybe something worse than that because Selim had never minded snakes) before carefully picking it up and holding the receiver to his ear. “Hello, Mama?”

Hughes can’t exactly hear the rest of the conversation but he thinks he gets the gist of it, with Selim’s expression gradually becoming more childlike, nodding, and saying, “Yes Mama—I’m fine Mama—don’t worry, I ate alright—I don’t actually need to eat but—yes, I’ll still eat and rest anyway—I’ll watch out for Papa, no worries there—how is Xing? Mm—no I’ve never been there, but I’ve read a lot—oh that sounds really good—is Elicia adjusting well? Oh—she—she really wants to talk to me? Can I? Okay—hi Elicia! Hi—yep—yeah—uh-huh, wow—oh—I love you too Elicia—eh? Um—don’t really know yet—maybe in a few months? Oh—it’s not that long Elicia, don’t worry—yeah I really miss you too—oh, Papa’s right here—”

Selim offers him the phone, and Hughes eagerly fetches in over and places it against his ear. “Hey, sweetie, how are you?”

“Papa!” Elicia squeals. “Papa! The dessert was so big, but Xing is so fun! There’s so much good food! Papa—when are you and Selim coming too?”

“As soon as we can, Elicia,” Hughes soothes. “We really want to be there with you guys too—but you’re having fun with Mama there, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Elicia agrees. “But—but I miss you Papa…and Selim…”

(Oh, his poor darling girl.

Still—even if it breaks his heart to upset her at all, at least she’s safe with Gracia over in Xing, in case the worst happens here—

Which it won’t because none of them can permit that to happen.

Besides—who’s to say that if Father really did manage to attain godhood in exchange for all the souls in Amestris that he’d decide to be satisfied with just that.

Probably no one would be safe after that.)

“I know, Elicia, and Papa and Selim miss you so much as well—but you can be a brave girl and keep your mama company and cheer her up, right?” Hughes asks gently. “There’s something important that we have to do here, but as soon as we’re done, we’ll absolutely run to see you, okay?”

“Okay,” Elicia says firmly, and Hughes can imagine her little face screwed up with determination at this moment. “I can be a brave girl! I’m already four!”

“Yes, you are,” Hughes coos (how are his kids this cute ). “You’re already a big girl!”

“I am! Are you and Selim fighting bad guys?” Elicia demands. “Can’t I help fight them too? Selim tells me lots of stories—I could help be the look-out!’

“I’m sure you would make an absolutely fantastic look-out sweetheart, but it’s a long trip back from Xing, and—and you’re safer where you are,” Hughes says gently.

Elicia is quiet for a moment before asking slowly, “It isn’t safe over there?”

“Not completely—but don’t worry! Your brother is here and between the two of us, we’ll keep each other safe,” Hughes says, glancing over at Selim who is watching him intently.

“Mm!” Elicia chirps happily. “Selim can use his cool shadow powers to help! Oh—I’m allowed to talk about that now right? Selim already showed them to you—so it should be okay, right?”

“Yes, it’s fine,” Hughes reassures her.

“Okay! Love you Papa! Oh, Mama wants to talk again!”

Gracia takes the phone over, and she murmurs quietly, “You did it, Maes—I knew you would.”

(He hadn’t been as sure—

When Selim had appeared in a flurry of shadows and snow at Briggs screaming at him, even Hughes had been somewhat taken aback with how Selim had just decided to show himself that easily. He had assumed he would have to search for Selim himself and maybe even be forced to dodge some of his attacks—

But instead Selim showed that underneath all the years and inhuman powers, Pride was just a child at heart.

Perhaps it was the fact that form controlled function or something like that, but in the end, the important thing was that Selim was his son.)

“Selim came to me himself,” he explains to Gracia glancing over at Selim who is staring off into the distance but is probably still listening. “And—and we’ll get through all of this and come home to you and Elicia, and we can work through everything then as well.”

Gracia sighs. “How I wish I was there with both of you—Xing is lovely as you’ve heard Elicia say, and we’re certainly getting to learn a bit of the language, but it’s—not the same without you and Selim. And waiting here and worrying.”

“I know,” Hughes says softly, curling closer to the phone as though that would bring him closer to his wife. “I know—I didn’t give you an easy task at all.”

“No, you didn’t,” Gracia sighs. “And Roy of course can’t help but use a resource in Xing.”

Hughes straightens up. “What is Roy asking you to do?”

“Find Maria Ross, and let her get in contact with Roy,” Gracia replies. “Don’t worry Maes—there’s no one looking for her here besides me.”

“Alright, but—but stay safe, do you hear me?”

“The same to you,” Gracia replies, a hint of a smile in her voice. “And—you tell Roy that if he doesn’t manage to see all this through right, he’ll be hearing from me. After all, we’re both putting in a lot of work for him.”

Hughes laughs. “I’ll be sure to let him know that.”

Gracia hums agreeably before saying, “I love you, Maes.”

“I love you too, Gracia, you’re the light of my life and our children are the gift that you blessed me with,” Hughes responds softly.

Falman looks up at that and clears his throat. “Colonel Mustang was clear to me that whenever you started with the purple prose, I was to stop the call because otherwise you’ll go on for hours.”

“Roy is the worst man in the world,” Hughes complains loudly before saying apologetically to Gracia, “Gracia baby, Roy doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body, so I’m going to have to hang up soon.”

Gracia laughs. “Alright, alright—I’m sure you’ll tell him off enough for both of us once he gets there. Stay safe, my darling, and—make sure Selim doesn’t overwork himself.”

Hughes makes a loud kissing sound into the phone and says, “You and Elicia also stay safe, and tell Elicia that Papa and Selim love and miss her so much! And—Selim, do you want to say anything before we have to hang up?”

Selim blinks, the first motion he’s made in awhile, and looks over, his face impassive, but his eyes somewhat uncertain. “…can you tell Mama to pick out some good Xingese stories? I haven’t read many, but I know there’s some with warriors who can fly. Maybe tell some of the less bloody ones to Elicia? I think she’ll like them.”

“Of course!” Hughes says and relays it over to Gracia, and then hears Elicia saying in the background, “Tell Selim that he needs to read the stories too! I want to see him act out flying warriors in shadow puppet form!”

Hughes laughs as he finally sets down the receiver with a lump in his throat (…god, he misses them so much ) before turning to Selim. “How did you ever manage to get Elicia not to reveal your shadow powers?”

“Lots of cake and promises of extra stories. …Elicia may make a great businesswoman one day. Or a lawyer or politician,” Selim says grudgingly although a smile appears on his face.

“She really will given how she managed to keep it a secret all the way until now,” Hughes enthuses. “Maybe Roy could give her an internship or something when she gets older, I’m sure she could learn a lot—ah, Roy, you’re here.”

“Maes,” Roy says, stepping inside and giving him a hug before giving him a once-over. “Do they not have razors up in Briggs? I feel like this is the worst I’ve seen you, and I’m including Ishval in that.”

“Hey, it helps hide my face!” Hughes argues, scrubbing at the beard that’s growing across his cheeks. “So—how did Major General Armstrong’s first meeting with the Council go?”

“Well, she started with killing off General Raven and gaining his seat, so I guess we’re off to a flying start,” Roy says blithely, sitting down in a chair.

Both Hughes and Selim stare at Roy.

“…well, that sounds like the Major General,” Hughes says faintly. “But wait—she just killed him, and they offered her his seat just like that?”

“They would like her boldness,” Selim says slowly, a frown on his face. “They may even bring her to see Father if she manages to convince them of her mettle.”

“The Major General is all mettle all the way through, I don’t think there will be a problem with that,” Roy says, steepling his fingers and looking at Selim. “She also has the nerves of steel to work as a double-agent, so we are clear there. And you even managed to get back this little hellion, Maes—although I think the Fuhrer at least is aware of something going on since he came to ask me a lot of pointed questions about you.”

Selim’s hands clench in his lap. “Oh?” he asks coldly. “What did you tell him?”

“I said you were off with your family in Xing, and that Maes had also been transferred there as well,” Roy watches him closely. “That was your original plan, wasn’t it?”

“He’s not going to buy it because he would have been the one helping me take everyone over there,” Selim says with a shake of his head. “He has to know that something is up.”

“I would have imagined that he would have known after you guys fought off Sloth,” Roy points out. “So should we be expecting Wrath to be coming in on a warpath after you?”

“Wrath wouldn’t come after me, he has too many things to do as Fuhrer. Besides, he’s the youngest of the homunculi, while I’m the oldest, he’d be no match for me,” Selim says with a simple toss of his head as his eyes narrow. “It’ll probably be Lust who is searching for me.”

“Havoc’s ex-girlfriend?” Roy confirms as Havoc’s head jerks up.

Havoc rubs the back of his head and asks awkwardly, “Heeey, since Pride, you decided to defect out of affection, so do you think it’s possible for Solaris to—”

“Not remotely a possibility,” Selim shuts him down with a sniff. “She was definitely just using you to monitor Mustang. It sounds exactly like her to take advantage of someone who likes big breasts.”

“Selim,” Hughes chides, internally thankful for the first time that Gracia wasn’t here (the implications of having a 300 year old son have only been recently sinking in—but on the plus side, he won’t have to give the birds and bees talk to Selim!). “Don’t bully poor Havoc—he may have only had one thing in mind, but to be fair, he’s younger than you.”

Selim purses his lips but nods, a slightly smug tilt to his head. “She’s also older than you. By about 250 years,” he informs Havoc haughtily.

As Havoc wilts slightly, Roy coughs and draws their attention back to him. “So she’ll be searching for you. Should we hide you better, or should we let her find you?”

“You want to use my son as bait?” Hughes interjects, affronted.

Roy holds up a hand. “He’ll have all the backup he needs, he just needs to tell me what exactly we’re up against with her. One less homunculus is at least one less person we’re fighting against, isn’t it?”

“I won’t need any backup,” Selim grumbles, his shadows rising around him and shifting around at his feet. “I’m the oldest, and Lust only wishes that Father had made her as powerful as he made me.”

(Selim hasn’t wanted to share all that much about his siblings, but what Hughes has been able to piece together hasn’t filled him with any great sense of relief.

As far as he can tell, Selim and his siblings had all been in vicious competition with each other for Father’s favor—not that Hughes could even tell what Father’s favor really was.

Sloth had been treated as nothing more than a nuisance and some kind of beast of burden, and based on how ferociously and remorselessly Sloth had slammed its fists at Pride, there seemed to be no love lost there.

Envy had seemed to take particular delight in taunting Pride—and Pride seemed more than happy to kill Envy at any point, even cheerfully telling Hughes once at Briggs that one bright side to changing sides was that he could definitely get revenge for him now if he wanted it.

Hughes had demurred, but he wasn’t taking it off the table per say either.

And Selim mentioned a sibling named Greed who had been killed right in front of him—

Yeah, whenever they meet Father, Hughes is going to take some joy turning him into target practice.)

“…if you say so,” Roy says, a somewhat doubtful expression on his face. “Still, it’s probably best for some of us to be there in a confrontation as well, just to make sure things go smoothly.”

Hughes shoots a look at Roy who just glances over at him and shrugs.

(Of course Roy doesn’t entirely trust Selim—Roy is a paranoid bastard at the best of times, they both are, it’s what’s managed to keep both of them alive for so long.

But Hughes is fairly sure that as long as the goal is keeping him and his family alive, Selim is willing to go along with any plan, even if he’s scared of it.

Look at how he went against Father—that fear hadn’t been feigned at all, and yet, he’s still here.

But that doesn’t make Roy wrong per say—even if Selim is confident in his abilities, it’s always smart to have some backup just in case there’s something Lust is hiding.

And given how it sounded like Lust had been one of Father’s greatest weapons alongside Pride, and how she had come very close to killing Hughes, it definitely paid to be careful.)

“Yes, I’ll be keeping watch in the shadows, and Roy should be there as backup too,” Hughes decides.

Selim frowns at that. “I really don’t see the point, you two will just get in the way. What if she takes you as a hostage?”

“We’ll make sure that doesn’t happen,” Hughes reassures him, glancing at Roy again (see? Selim even cares about potential hostage-taking!). “Besides—as well as you know her, she also knows you, doesn’t she? Didn’t you say that she’s the second oldest of all of you?”

“Yes, but it doesn’t matter if she knows all my abilities,” Selim scoffs, sitting back in his chair. “It’s not like she can dodge them, and all she has is that she’s the Ultimate Spear. It’s simple enough to dodge, and I can just consume her.”

“…maybe hold off on the consuming her part? We could question her,” Hughes suggests, slightly uneasy.

(Selim’s name had been Pride, so could it be possible that he was overlooking something, or was he really just as powerful as he was saying?

It was true that Selim’s shadow powers were versatile and terrifying—able to even hold off Sloth long enough for Major General Armstrong to bring out a tank—but Hughes feels as though Father wouldn’t have created anything that he couldn’t ultimately control and take down on his own, because that’s the kind of bastard Father was.)

Selim gives him a flat look. “What can she know that I don’t?”

“What Father has been planning after your defection for one,” Roy says, “And also what Father actually knows right now—because that has been fairly unclear to me this entire time.”

“He knows a lot less without me. I was his main eyes and ears,” Selim says, a thread of pride in his voice.

“That may be the case, but he must have come up with some sort of back-up by now,” Roy states, tapping his fingers against the table. “Still—I think if they knew how deeply I was involved, they would have taken more action against me by now, and besides, we have our own eyes and ears within the Council now. Can you spy on other homunculi?”

“As long as they’re in the city, I could do so if I chose,” Selim says haughtily.

“So where are they all right now?”

Selim glances at Hughes, who nods at him. “It would be useful Selim, to just know.”

“Fine,” Selim grumbles before going motionless for a bit, his eyes going a bit dull as the shadows around them stretch out.

(He’s started to get used to the shadows, but this strange blankness still scares him a bit.

Although really, why should that scare him when at Briggs, part of Selim’s face had cracked open, and Hughes had got a look at the strange forms twisting and screaming inside, and still he had stepped forward and not looked away and embraced him?

Selim is his son no matter how monstrous he may be—and just based on their own experiences, it seemed homunculi were much more like humans than they perhaps wanted to admit.

Still—he had to admit that Selim’s face peeling back wasn’t a sight that he wanted to see again, or let Gracia and Elicia see for that matter, but—

From what he understands, Philosopher’s Stones are created by sacrificing a great number of souls and refining them down, and homunculi are mostly powered through their use of very powerful Philosopher’s Stones.

Pride had apparently also augmented his since he could just consume people—which, Hughes had to admit was pretty terrifying, but—

He had noticed that after Selim had taken a couple hits from Sloth, his healing had seemed to slow down a bit.

What happens when Selim’s Philosopher’s Stone runs out of souls?

Does he become as mortal as the rest of them?

But—how would that even work when his body wasn’t entirely it seemed a human body—)

“Wrath is busy doing his Fuher duties as usual—he might have noticed me, but I left before he could get a good look at me—and Envy, Lust, and Gluttony all seem to be looking for Scar,” Selim frowns a bit. “Strange—they don’t seem to be searching for me yet.”

“…news about Sloth has been all over Central for days now—and it’s not like Major General Armstrong wouldn’t tell them,” Roy says, also frowning. “However—how many people actually saw you get in a fight with Sloth?”

“There were a lot of shadows, and it was snowing the whole time,” Hughes points out. “It was all pretty chaotic—I suppose it could be possible that no one saw Selim precisely—and of course Major General Armstrong isn’t going to mention him.”

“It still seems off—is it possible that they already know but are pretending that they don’t? If the Fuhrer can sense you, can the rest of them?” Roy asks, looking at Selim.

Selim shakes his head. “Wrath’s abilities are special—he has the Ultimate Eye. The rest of them don’t have anything like that—they would have no way of knowing whether I was watching or not.”

“…can you also spy on Father?” Hughes asks carefully.

Selim freezes in place. “…no,” he replies slowly, his words short and halting. “It’s not—we were all part of Father once, so he can always sense us. And our abilities come from him as well, so he can neutralize them.”

(God, he wants to stab that guy.)

“Then we have two options,” Roy says, rapping his knuckles on the table. “We can either press our spying advantage while no one knows you’ve switched sides yet, but the downside to that is that at some point, they have to find out. Our second option is to give up the spying advantage to launch an attack against the homunculi, preferably Lust since you said after yourself, she’s the oldest, the most useful, and would also know the most.”

Selim nods slowly. “I say the second option is better, it gives us more control. And besides—once Lust is taken out, who’s left? Envy ? Ha—Father will run them ragged, and they won’t be able to do anything.”

“…I don’t like this, but then we should pick somewhere good for an ambush and arrange things accordingly while letting out news where you are,” Hughes says finally, crossing his arms. “That way we can at least control the playing field and keep watch in case anything goes awry.”

“I’m pretty sure the Fuhrer has people watching your house,” Roy says before Selim can voice his complaints about how he doesn’t need anyone watching over him. “It could be an option—although, Pride, how likely is it that if the Fuhrer notices you somewhere that he will come to hunt you down himself instead of telling Lust?”

Selim sits still for a moment, his little hand at his chin and his brow furrowed in thought. “…there is a slight chance perhaps—but more unlikely. Out of all my siblings, Wrath was the one who respected my abilities the most, and I think he knows he is not my opponent. It would make more sense for him to report everything to Father, and Father in that case would definitely send Lust.”

“He wouldn’t send both Lust and another one of your siblings?” Hughes asks.

Selim rolls his eyes as he kicks his feet up beneath the chair. “Lust wouldn’t bring in Gluttony, she wouldn’t want to risk what I could do to him. Or Envy—that would get ugly fast. Wrath is far too busy, and Sloth still has tunnels to finish.”

“Well then, that’s good—maybe we could set up something in the backyard?” Hughes muses out loud, picturing the garden in his head. “There’s a lot of trees so we could hide there to watch, and we won’t be in danger of getting crushed like we would be if the two of you fought in the house.”

Selim turns to look at Hughes, his eyes narrowing. “Why are you talking as if you’re going to be there?”

“Because I am? You don’t think I’m going to just let my son walk in to face a 200 year old monster without backup, do you?”

“She’s 250, and I’m 300, I’ll be fine,” Selim waves a dismissive hand at him. “The backyard is fine, but you don’t need to be there for it. In fact, I forbid you.”

Hughes just gives Selim a flat look. “Selim, you can’t forbid me from my own backyard.”

“I feel like I shouldn’t need to forbid you from a place where there’s an active deathmatch going on between monster siblings,” Selim shoots back.

“Don’t call yourself that,” Hughes replies immediately before turning and sniffling at Roy. “Do you see that Roy? He’s not even a teenager yet, and he’s backtalking me!”

“Yeah, you missed his teenage years by like at least 200 years,” Roy replies without an ounce of sympathy in his voice. “Besides, have your stitches healed up? Gracia will kill me if I let you go into a battlefield while injured.”

“I already went up to Briggs while wounded, I’ll be fine,” Hughes reassures him.

A shadowy tendril moves over to poke directly at Hughes’ abdomen, and when he winces a bit, it withdraws, and Selim shakes his head. “Don’t show up, you’ll just be a liability.”

Hughes puts a hand to his chest. “I promise I won’t be a liability to you, Selim.”

Selim nods in satisfaction before turning to argue and hammer out the rest of the details with Roy.

--

“…didn’t you say you weren’t going to be a liability?” Roy hisses to him, elbowing him in the side as the two of them attempt to hide behind the giant topiary bush that Gracia had been planning on turning into a dancing bear at some point.

“And I won’t because I have my knives, and I’m just here for backup,” Hughes points out, elbowing Roy straight back.

Roy lets out a sigh as he tugs on his gloves and glances over at the house next door. “Wish your next door neighbors were three-stories now….”

“I don’t, then they’d spy on us more,” Hughes says adamantly before patting him on the back. “Riza will manage, she always does.”

“The same can’t be said for your son,” Roy says with a frown, keeping an eye on Selim walking back and forth in the backyard, his shoes scuffing up dirt. “His name is Pride —are we sure he’s not exaggerating his abilities?”

“You didn’t see him against Sloth,” Hughes points out (although some unease trickles in the back of his mind still because no matter how old Selim is or what shadow powers he has—he’s so small —).

Roy grunts. “Havoc was impressed, but the Major General was less so.”

“Major General Armstrong isn’t a huge fan of Selim, but that shouldn’t count against him since she also absolutely despises you ,” Hughes retorts.

“She doesn’t doubt any of my abilities though,” Roy says with a smirk.

“She believes you’re the best snake to ever snake,” Hughes agrees before stilling. “Someone’s coming—”

“Come back to have one last look, Pride?” a smokey voice asks as the dark-haired voluptuous woman who attacked him before steps into the backyard. “I don’t blame you—I think what Father did to Greed will be a walk in the park compared to what he’s going to do with you.”

Selim sneers at her, shadows rising up all around him. “Be that as it may, you certainly aren’t going to be able to see that after we’re through.”

Lust titters, holding her hand up to elegantly cover her mouth. “Oh, Pride, you always live up to your name. But really—all this for a human? After all your talk about how we were just to follow Father’s orders? How have you not simply expired from the humiliation yet?”

“By remembering that now, I am free to finally rid myself of you,” Pride snarls and sends his shadows hurtling after Lust.

Lust dodges aside, talons shooting out from her hand before she steps over to a rock nearby and slams her hand against it.

Lightning flashes around them, and she spits out blood with a terrible sharp smile as a transmutation circle becomes clear in the dirt, and a dome of dirt closes itself over Selim.

“That should hold you until Father decides exactly what he’s going to do with you,” Lust sighs with pleasure, wiping the blood off of her face with the back of her hand while knocking on the dome. “After all, total darkness traps you as much as total light.”

(…shit.

That went downhill so quickly—

And was that alchemy?

Selim hadn’t said anything about Lust being able to do alchemy—

He hopes there isn’t more about his siblings that Pride just simply isn’t aware of.)

Lust dodges the burst of flame that Roy sends out as her grin somehow grows even more sinister. “Aw, and he brought a human friend, ” she coos, letting her claws grow out. “I can’t wait to see his face when I show him your impaled body.”

“You get Pride out of there, while I handle her,” Roy murmurs as he straightens out both gloves and claps him on the back. “She doesn’t know you’re here yet, so go. ”

Hughes nods and leaves Roy to face down the homunculus on his own while he scrambles over to break Selim out.

(Roy will be fine—he has Riza watching his back, and besides, if any alchemist can face down a homunculus and at the very least stand his ground, it has to be Roy.

The faster they get Selim out the better though, because Lust apparently has more than a few tricks up her sleeve.)

Chapter Text

Pride sits in the dark and feels—

(Is this what embarrassment feels like?

It’s fucking awful , he never wants to feel it again.

So he underestimated Lust a bit, fine, but exactly how was he supposed to know that she had somehow figured out alchemy?

And was willing to use her own Philosopher’s Stone to power it?

She’s not like him—she can’t consume extra souls to supplement her Stone, so when it’s out, it’s out.

Still at the very least, she should have had to expend a chunk of it trapping him here.  

…he’s not entirely sure if Mustang can fight her—he’s certainly a chosen sacrifice for a reason, but Lust is apparently much stronger and more devious than he had previously judged.

It’ll definitely be refreshing to kill her.

But first—he needs to find his way out of this dome. Mustang will be preoccupied with just keeping himself alive, and even if his trusted Lieutenant is out there somewhere, she probably won’t be able to make much of a dent in this without unloading all of the bullets on Lust.)

Pride walks forward in the dark, trying to feel around the walls of dirt at the side.

They feel unfortunately very solid.

Pride tries kicking and punching at the walls, and quickly gives that up when his legs and arms start feeling sore.

(He had never seen much of a point in P.E. since after all, his shadows could let him do nearly anything, and also, his body wasn’t entirely human, but now, he’s regretting it a bit.

Damn Lust—he should just carry a flashlight or matches on him from now on to make sure something like this will never happen again.

But in the meanwhile, he still needs to find his own way out.

Maybe he should have agreed to let Hughes be backup here—

But no, that would have been disastrous.

Lust would have recognized him on sight and probably impaled him and torturously played with him just for sheer sadistic amusement.

…it’s what he would have done if their positions were reversed.)

Pride renews his attempts at kicking at the wall even if the muscles in his legs are starting to scream at him (useless body—if they somehow make it through the Promised Day alive, somehow he’s going to figure out a way to fucking grow) when there’s a crack from overhead, and a sliver of light falls from a small hole up above as a bullet embeds itself on the opposite wall.

(…Hawkeye, he presumes.

She wouldn’t have let Mustang get into a possible death match without her backing him up, so that makes sense.

…he doesn’t have to thank her later, does he? After all, it’s not like Mustang can stand against Lust on his own.

Hughes may still make him thank her though, pity.)

It’s not a lot, but any light means that the darkness around him now also has shadows in it, and Pride grins savagely as he gathers the shadows around him and slices the dome in half, neatly catches it with some more shadows, throws a few more shadows out to see where Lust is now (ah—she’s looking a bit bloody and worn out, and while Mustang is also bloody, he appears to have lit half the shrubbery on fire—Mama wasn’t going to be super pleased—), and then hurls the half of the dome straight at Lust while yanking Mustang back with his shadows.

Lust’s eyes widen as she sweeps out her talons and cuts most of the dome into much smaller pieces, but a few still smash into her, and she licks at the blood trickling down from the wound in her head as her Philosopher’s Stone knits her up again.

“Well, well, well—relying on human helpers now, are we Pride? Just when I thought you couldn’t sink any lower, you manage to surprise me,” Lust states, brushing some dirt off her dress as she stands up again. “Which I suppose is a miracle in and of itself—who even knew that you could surprise us? Even if it’s with how much you’ve regressed.”

“You’re the one who’s regressed,” Pride snarls, grabbing her with his shadows. “You’re the one having difficulty against a mere human—”

“While you’re the one collared by them, who’s more pathetic?” Lust retorts, grabbing something from her dress and tossing them at him.

He catches them, and they explode in a blinding blaze of light, and he feels his hold with his shadows weaken then dissolve—

(Flash bombs.

Fucking flash bombs.

How long has Lust been preparing to fight against him?

He needs to move—)

He barely manages to jerk out of the way from one of Lust’s talons, getting a cut on his cheek from that, but her second attack slams home in his gut, and he spits out blood even as his Philosopher’s Stone tries to knit him back up with her claws still in him.

(Ugh.

He hasn’t suffered this kind of damage since—

Hm, it may have been right before Father had decided on making him their puppet Fuhrer's son, so that was nearly 200 years ago.

It fucking sucked.)

“Oh Pride, you’re getting slow in your old age,” Lust sighs as she withdraws her claws with a snick of blood gushing out, and his shadows rush in to grip her tight.

“I’ll be sure to supplement my speed with yours then,” he snarls as he moves to devour her, but then she throws out another flash bomb—and his grip on her again dissolves like smoke under the blinding light, and the only reason he doesn’t get impaled again is because there’s a series of explosions, and when Pride’s vision clears again, he can see Lust’s skin slowly knitting itself back together from a number of horrific burns, and Mustang is standing in front of him.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Pride demands, standing up and brushing the dirt off his pants and grimacing at the blood on his clothes (it’s never going to come out—and these holes really put it beyond Gracia’s sewing abilities, and this was one of his favorite shirts).

“Maes is going to shiv me if I let you get impaled anymore,” Mustang states steadily, clicking his fingers and sending another series of explosions over at Lust.

“I don’t need your help,” Pride snaps, reaching out with his shadows again to restrain Lust’s arms as Mustang walks closer and the explosions get bigger. “I was doing just fine.”

Mustang spares a dubious glance over at his blood-stained shirt, before clicking his fingers and making Lust scream as she incinerates and then starts to slowly regenerate again. “Sure. She’s not healing as quickly anymore—is it nearly done?”

Lust starts to laugh, a low, dark chuckle that gradually builds into a blinding shriek as she tosses her head back and bares her bloody teeth at Pride. “Do you feel ashamed yet, Pride ? A human even had to save you—not that it will do him any good.”

(That look in her eyes—

Shit. )

He’s trying to drag Mustang back when Lust laughs and the Philosopher’s Stone in her chest begins to crack as the transmutation circle beneath their feet lights up. “I’ll just be giving Father a sacrifice early, it seems. I’ll be seeing you later in hell, I’m sure, Pride.”

(She can’t—

There’s no way she knows how to open the Gate—

But he’s starting to see the barest glimmers of it at Mustang’s feet—

Fuck, shit, damn, hell, no— )

Pride’s grip on Mustang slides away as if those fucking flash bombs had gone off again, Mustang and Lust both disappear, and Pride spits out blood as his entire body, including all his shadows, spasms with more pain than he has ever felt in his entire long life.

( Shit fucking hells fuck —what was this, it felt as though his insides were getting scooped out, and he can feel his Philosopher’s Stone using up souls to fix the damage, but it just keeps going, and his flesh keeps twisting —

A transmutation circle, Lust’s Philosopher’s Stone getting used up, a potential sacrifice, his own Philosopher’s Stone fighting against some kind of alchemical change—

Had Lust just done fucking human transmutation on him and then forced Mustang through the Gate?

Fuck! )

He’s doubled over and coughing up globs of blood, frantically counting down the souls he’s got left (he hasn’t had to worry about that in ages ), when in front of his blurring vision, he thinks he sees Hughes run up to him.

(Great, now he’s hallucinating too.

Unless—

He had specifically told Hughes to stay away, but when exactly has Hughes listened to him, especially after figuring out his true identity?)

He manages to gain enough control over some of his shadows to shove Hughes back and keep him at bay, rasping through his bloody coughs, “There’s—there’s a transmutation circle here—stay back— what are you even doing here — ”

“Selim!” Hughes yells, still frantically struggling against the shadow holding him back. “Are you hurt? I went to get Riza to shoot a hole in that dome, but then—did she—fuck that’s so much blood—where’s that bitch —and where’s Roy?”

The sensations begin to ebb a little, and Pride manages to sit up straight, grimacing as he takes stock of how many souls that attack had consumed ( really not good—it’s starting to get dangerously low in there—). “I—I think she and Mustang went through the Gate?”

“The Gate?” Hughes repeats, stepping forward as soon as the shadow lets go and scooping Pride up to carry him in his arms over to a patch of the yard that was somehow still unscathed before glancing back over at the transmutation circle. “What Gate? Does it have something to do with alchemy? Did she—did she try to do human transmutation on you? Shit—what did she do to Roy? ”

“It’s—you know how the Elric brothers lost stuff after their human transmutation attempt?” Pride gestures around, leaning against Hughes as he tries to wipe away the blood smeared across his mouth. “They went through the Gate—it extracts a toll.”

“But—Roy wasn’t the one who did the human transmutation on you,” Hughes points out, staring at him.

“Correct, but Lust must have used the last of her Stone to force Roy through the Gate as well regardless of that,” Pride tries to smooth out his breathing, clutching at Hughes’ shirt with bloody hands. “She’s definitely dead after that—I saw her Philosopher’s Stone crack.”

“And you? Are you—there’s so much blood, Selim—and Roy?” Hughes asks frantically.

“I’ll be fine—look, I’m healing right?” Pride says, pushing at Hughes and standing up on trembling legs (he hasn’t felt this bad in a long time). “As for Mustang, he should be reappearing soon—”

The circle crackles back to life, and Mustang appears on the ground, dazed, but seemingly with all of his limbs attached.

(That’s even more insidious in some ways—the Gate always takes a toll.

Always.)

Hughes seems torn between immediately running over there himself and still fussing over Pride, so Pride makes the decision for him and painfully gets up while tugging Mustang over with some of his shadows.

He doesn’t seem to be spitting up blood, just sitting up and rubbing his eyes, and Hughes carries Pride over there, calling out worriedly, “Roy? What—where did you go? Are you okay?”

“Maes?” Mustang calls out, his hands fumbling around at the ground. “Where—are you here too?”

Hughes’ eyes widen, and he crouches down near Mustang, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Roy, I’m right here—we’re in the garden—can’t you see me?”

“It’s so dark—I can’t see anything,” Mustang replies, his hand going up to touch his blank eyes before his eyes widen a bit in horror. “Shit— fuck. Maes, I—I can’t see. ”

(So the Gate took his sight but not actually his physical eyes.

The Gate certainly has a sense of irony with what parts it takes—taking away the Elric brother’s limbs and bodies when they wanted their mother, and now taking away Mustang’s sight when he was the one who wanted to see a different future.

However, it could count as a kindness in some ways—the Gate actually taking into account the fact that Mustang had been forced through instead of willingly attempting human transmutation himself and just taking the senses and not the organs.

It’s not even something that hard to fix with a Philosopher’s Stone.

…sadly though, the only Philosopher’s Stone around right now seems to be his own.)

“What do you mean you can’t see?” Hughes demands, waving his hand in front of Mustang’s face frantically. “Is this some sort of—is it temporary? Permanent?”

“Permanent,” Pride confirms, squirming out of Hughes’ arms and circling around Mustang. “The Gate has a toll.”

“So—wait, he—he can do what the Elric brothers do now?” Hughes demands, crouching down so he’s at eye-level with Pride.

Mustang frowns, claps his hands together, and places them and the ground, and with a spark, a small queen’s chess piece is created from the dirt right as Hawkeye comes running up.

“Seems so,” Mustang says quietly, rubbing his fingers together.

“But in that case—Ed and Al both thought a Philosopher’s Stone could take care of their problem—or that there was some other alchemical way to solve their problem—would that work for you too?” Hughes asks.

Hawkeye supports Mustang up and asks in a controlled tone, “But—where are we supposed to get a Philosopher’s Stone? The Fuhrer may have some, but they must be locked up tight.”

Hughes covers his mouth. “Maybe we could—Selim can you look and see if there are any, and then maybe we could break in somewhere—”

“That won’t work, Father has already secured all the ones in Central, as far as I know,” Pride announces, slowly flattening a hand over his chest. “Besides—we don’t need to go that far. I have a Philosopher’s Stone.”

Hughes’ head whips over to him, and he starts to shake his head. “Isn’t that—isn’t that what’s keeping you alive ? No, we can’t do that—”

“I can spare the souls, I won’t die from just healing him,” Pride says shortly, walking forward. “This is the best way.”

(That way he isn’t risking Hughes getting hurt while trying to raid one of Father’s labs.

Also—

He absolutely hates to admit it but—

Technically, he supposes that Mustang may have helped him out of a slightly difficult situation.

Not that he couldn’t have gotten out of it himself—he would have started moving faster eventually, and it’s not like Lust had infinite flash bombs at her disposal.

But he did help remove a thorn at Pride’s side, so he guesses he can help him this once.

It’s going to leave him really low though—he doesn’t have that many souls as it is.

But they’re on his home-turf—he has some reserves here.)

Hughes walks forward, crouches down, and grips him by the shoulders to peer at his face. “…Selim—you really don’t look well—your wounds aren’t even healing as fast as when you fought Sloth—”

“Lust is far beyond Sloth, I have to give her that,” Pride says, gently pushing Hughes away and securing him in place with a shadow around his foot. “It’ll be fine. It’s the fastest way, and we don’t really have time for Mustang to adjust to being blind.”

“…do you know how to heal him?” Hawkeye asks directly, looking at him.

Pride frowns and rifles through the screams of the souls still at his disposal before he hits upon a better one and listens to him for a bit. It’s a bit tiresome, but he sorts out the theory.

(How long it must have taken Lust to learn it without having extra souls at her disposal—

She must have been planning for a long time to take him down.

Well, that’s the last time he’ll underestimate her, and it’s also the last time she’ll underestimate him and his allies.)

 “….I consumed one of the alchemists involved in the chimera experiments awhile ago when he tried to run. I know how to do it.”

“In theory, or are you sure?’ Hawkeye insists, her face hard as she holds Mustang close to herself.

“I am sure,” Pride says, reaching for Mustang. “Hold still, this is probably going to feel weird, and it might or might not hurt.”

Hawkeye doesn’t let go, but Mustang places a hand on her arm, murmurs something into her ear, and she ever so slowly and reluctantly releases him. Mustang sighs as Pride places his hand on his face and says, “Well—don’t make me too nearsighted okay, my image can’t take super-thick glasses, I’ll look terrible.”

“Shut up, I need to concentrate,” Pride snaps and channels his Philosopher’s Stone outward through his hands with a slight crackle of shadows.

He can’t really tell if it’s hurting Mustang—he’s gritting his teeth, so maybe it does, but for Pride, he can feel the souls slipping away, and it is not pleasant.

More pleasant of course than Lust trying human transmutation on him, but still, not good.

Still, he is Pride, and the eldest of the homunculi, and it’s not like he hasn’t borne so many different pains, large and small over the years, so he just holds on and ignores the screams of the souls as he always does, and pushes—

The shadows draw back, and Mustang blinks, his eyes finally focusing, and then he looks down at his hand. “…it worked. It worked —thank you, Pride—no, Selim.”

“You can call me whatever, they’re both my names,” Pride mutters, sitting down on the ground, feeling more drained than he ever has.

(He’s low now—dangerously low.

He doesn’t even remember the last time he was so low—

It may have never even happened since in battle, he’s always busy devouring people so he never runs out.

But up in Briggs, there had been no one he was permitted to consume—Kimblee having been long gone—and he had been originally planning on consuming Lust here in the first place to make up for the souls he had lost while fighting Sloth—

This is kind of bad.)

“Selim? Selim!”

Hughes arms catch him, and he muzzily looks up. “I’m fine,” he mumbles, rubbing his eyes and trying to get them to focus. “I just need to—I need to get inside. I need to get to—get to my goldfish.”

“…Selim, I’d love to let you see your beloved pet right now, and it’s been well-cared for, Roy made sure Fuery came by to feed it, but I think you need to see a doctor first—”

“No doctor can help me right now,” Pride says in annoyances, ineffectually hitting Hughes on the chest with his hands. “I put some of my shadows in my goldfish—I need those right now.”

“…I always wondered how that fish never died. Okay,” Hughes says, picking him up gently in a fireman’s carry and then jogging towards the house. “Okay Selim, hang in there—Selim, listen to me, don’t you dare pass out—I don’t know how to revive you if you do pass out, so please Selim, hang in there—”

“I heard you, so noisy,” Pride mutters, resting his head against Hughes’ shoulder. “I’m fine, I’m just a little—tired.”

(No use worrying him about it.

Still—

It’s kind of nice to be cared for, even when he’s pretty much useless right now.)

Hughes slams open the door to his room, and there’s his black goldfish, swimming steadily in the water as per usual.

“Do you—do you need me to take it out? How does this work? Are you going to eat it? …would it be better if we cooked it first, or would that interfere with the process?” Hughes demands, setting Pride down gently on his bed before moving towards the tank.

Pride shakes his head. “There’s no need for that,” he says tiredly before reaching out and stretching into the shadows—

(It’s hard—he doesn’t think it’s ever been this hard for him to control the shadows before.

Even back when he had been first created and had been testing out all his shadow powers for the first time, it hadn’t felt this hard.

But he needs this or else he’s really just going to be a scared little boy, so he strains himself and pulls. )

The shadows return back to him as the goldfish dissolves away in the water, and even though it’s like a few drops of water in a bucket with barely an inch of water left, he feels his control over the shadows reassert itself.

He breathes in and out as Hughes stares at him, his jaw clenched and his brow furrowed.

“How—how are you feeling, Selim?” he asks, reaching out to him.

“Fine,” Pride answers, letting Hughes ruffle his hair and check the temperature of his forehead (obviously that wasn’t going to show him anything, but at the same time, it didn’t hurt to let Hughes feel a bit less worried about everything).

“You can use your shadows again, I see,” Hughes comments, looking down at the ground as the shadows move in place a little. “But—was that enough?”

“Why? You’ve got someone you’ll let me consume?” Pride fires back.

Hughes’ eyes narrow, and his grip on his shoulder grows tighter. “…so you aren’t completely fine—”

“I can manage,” Pride interjects, getting off his bed and standing up. “Although—I won’t say no, if there really is someone you need me to consume. Not because I’m weak or anything—just because it’d save a lot of trouble.”

“…if it really comes down to that, of course I’ll let you know,” Hughes says slowly. “Just—Selim—if you’re hurt—if you want to sit things out and rest, I understand, and I’ll get you to Xing as soon as you want me to—”

“Are you insane? ” Pride asks, whipping himself around to face Hughes. “You all will definitely die without me—even with me, there’s an infinitesimal chance of any of us winning against Father, and you want to throw even that slim hope away ?”

“I want you safe , Selim,” Hughes says simply, placing a gentle hand on his head. “I don’t care whether you’re useful or whatever or not—you’re my son, and if you want to keep fighting, you can, but at the same time, you shouldn’t keep fighting just because you think I want you to. Either way, I am proud of you.”

(….there’s a weird stinging sensation in his eyes, and his chest feels oddly tight.

None of which matters—without him, everyone’s definitely dead, and if Hughes dies, he’s not sure Gracia and Elicia will ever recover from it.

….much less himself, he has to admit.

So—no matter how much he is weakened, no matter how foolhardy an attempt he still really things this is—

He will stay and fight with his Papa.)

“…you shouldn’t say stuff like that, it’s dumb,” Pride sniffs, rubbing at his face. “Anyway, of course I’m staying and fighting—now that Lust is dead, the most senior homunculus left is Envy, and they will for sure not be able to handle all of Father’s demands upon them. We’d be idiots not to take advantage of that.”

“Alright, Selim,” Hughes says quietly wrapping him in a hug before letting go. “But at any point—if you don’t want to fight anymore, you let me know, okay? Even if it’s on the Promised Day itself.”

“I’m no coward, I won’t back down,” Pride says stubbornly before heading out of the room. “Let’s see what’s left of Lust—who knows, she could have something useful.”

Pretty much nothing really remains of Lust, and Mustang has already started using his clap-alchemy to reconstruct broken parts of the garden, and he turns around to face them. “Oh good—you look slightly less like you’re about to keel over now. You hanging in there alright?”

“I’m hundreds of years older than you, I know how to handle myself,” Pride replies stiffly to him.

Mustang shrugs. “If you say so,” he then turns to look at Hawkeye and says, “Hm—well one homunculus down, and two on our side, so I’d say the odds are looking a bit better, wouldn’t you?”

“Sir, you nearly went blind,” Hawkeye says expressionlessly.

“Well, I’m not now, thanks to Pride, so it’s alright, don’t you think? Although, the cost—well maybe we’ll run into another monster soon or something, and then Pride can take their soul, maybe that would help even though it’s a bit ethically dubious—”

“ Two homunculus?” Pride demands, holding up a hand. “Who—it can’t be Wrath, that makes no sense, and Gluttony is far too dumb and just does whatever Lust says anyway…”

“It’s Greed,” Mustang says, his mouth twitching.

Pride just stares at him.

“ Greed? But Greed’s dead —I watched Father melt him down myself—”

“He got reformed. That Xingese prince who was hanging out with Ed? He made a deal with Father, so now it seems Greed and him are sharing his body,” Mustang says simply, adjusting his gloves as though what he’s saying isn’t earth-shattering. “I believe he didn’t have his memory from his previous incarnation at first, but after some—unfortunate incidents, he got it back, and he immediately turned on Father and came to us.”

(….he can’t believe this.

Greed is alive?

And now they’re on the same side?

Out of all their siblings, why did it have to be him ?)

“This is a terrible decision,” he informs Mustang sternly, making a face. “Greed can’t be trusted you know—he starts collecting people, specifically chimeras, and then he’ll run off with his own agenda with them.”

“Yeah, his chimeras are with him, and he ran off with Ed to go fix Nina,” Mustang says blithely, taking off his gloves and accepting a handkerchief from Hawkeye. “The two of them are lying low elsewhere for now—they’ll probably keep each other in check.”

“ Nina ?” Hughes broke in, his eyes wide. “Nina is with them ? Then—can they really fix her?”

“It appears they have already. They found Dr. Marcoh as well, so we have another ally there. At this rate, maybe they can even find Scar and knock some sense into him,” Mustang shrugs.

Pride narrows his eyes. “…you’re suddenly very chatty, this is a lot of information you were keeping to yourself.”

“Well, I didn’t trust you,” Mustang says bluntly, holding up a hand at Hughes’ sputtered protests. “But—I do trust you more now.”

(…there’s no reason that should make him feel good at all.

Lust is probably laughing at him in her grave right now—how the mighty have fallen, to even be now lumped together with Greed.

Who may still hold a slight grudge against him for everything…)

“Does Greed know I’m on your side now?” Pride demands.

“Yes,” Mustang replies serenely. “You probably don’t want to know his reaction, it’ll just get you worked up.”

Hughes pats Pride on the back as he seethes (he can just imagine Greed’s stupid smug expression and laughter), cajoling him. “This is good, Selim! A powerful ally who can understand your experiences, and is technically your brother—”

“And that was technically my sister,” Pride retorts with a sneer, pointing at the spot where Lust had dissolved away. “It’s better that you don’t have high expectations for the rest of my family—they’re all disappointments.”

“I don’t believe that, and in any which case, we’ll have to be on our guard when we face off against any others. If Lust could do alchemy, what other secrets could the rest of your siblings be hiding?” Hughes points out.

Pride sniffs. “I know exactly what Envy and the rest of them are hiding—but I see your point. I will keep an eye on them.”

(As best he can anyway, given how sapped he is.

There aren’t that many days left until the Promised Day as well, this is going to get tricky.)

Chapter Text

So, there are definitely a lot of things going wrong with their plan. Namely the last blood seal being created up in Briggs, with Kimblee, who's apparently still alive, (god, that man is like a cockroach—if he’s going to let Selim devour anyone, Kimblee would be on the top of the list), inciting the Drachma army to attack the fortress while their feared commander was gone. Briggs didn’t sustain any casualties, but the death and violence on the Drachma side had been enough for Kimblee to finish his task. 

There is also Selim losing much of his power, straining and sweating to reach over into other shadows instead of what had seemed like the near-effortless city-wide surveillance that he had maintained before.

(Although Hughes is just thankful he isn't as pale and listless as he had been after healing Roy’s eyes—he'd genuinely had the panicked thought of how he was going to explain any of this to Gracia before Selim had absorbed all the shadows within his goldfish.)

But—Major General Armstrong is still in place and has even met Father and survived, so they do have a good amount of inside information coming out of that channel. She also kicked her entire family out of their ancestral mansion and off on an extended vacation (smart move—if she ever decided to move against Roy, she really would be a worthy opponent) and then took Roy’s tip and moved her entire Briggs battalion into it.

On Roy’s side, they’ve been making all their preparations as well.

(He doesn’t really like how their plan hinges on kidnapping Mrs. Bradley but—

Well, compared to willingly to sacrificing her for an omnicidal abusive monster, just frightening her a bit is probably alright?)

Ed and Greed had also been—well, laying low wasn’t quite the term for it.

Bizarrely, Scar appeared to have run into the Elric brothers, Greed, and Dr. Marcoh out in Dr. Marcoh’s village, and this somehow hadn’t dissolved into a murderous mess. This may have been aided by Nina being there, along with a small Xingese girl that Scar had in tow. Or maybe it had something to do with Scar’s confrontation with Winry later on.  Regardless, Scar really had changed somehow, and was now apparently willing to work with them to wipe out the corruption within Amestris.

Roy had been especially skeptical hearing this news, but Hughes had pointed out that it was far from the oddest defection they had on the team.

(If even Pride, eldest and possibly most “favored” of Father’s children could turn away from him—

Then Scar deciding to give up, or at least pause his murderous quest for now, wasn’t beyond reason.

Besides, they really need all the help they can get at this point, and extra allies who can do something like alchemy are most welcome.)

And then they had received a report that Gluttony had turned up looking for Dr. Marcoh. Ed and Greed and the rest of them had managed to restrain him, but then Envy had shown up. Envy had mentioned something about them being allied with Pride, and according to Ed, Gluttony had gone “ape-shit". Some kind of portal had opened up in his stomach and swallowed both Ed and Greed. The two of them then decided, despite the fact that it appeared they had spent maybe half a day in there, tops, to boil a leather shoe to eat. That was when they had run into Envy, who had also been swallowed in Gluttony’s rage. Envy had changed into his final form to fight them, but then Ed had somehow convinced him to let him use his Philosopher’s Stone to activate Gluttony’s false gate and get them all out of there.

That point, above all the others, was the one Selim looked most askance upon.

“Why would Envy ever help them?” Selim demands. “And why couldn’t they have used Greed’s stone to get out, if it was that easy?”

“According to Ed, Greed and Ling—he’s calling them Greedling now—they didn’t think there were enough souls since Greed had to be attached to Ling in the first place, and also ‘Greedling likes to do dumb things, like cartwheel off roofs or intimidate people by busting his entire head open.’”

“…alright, that does sound like Greed,” Selim admits with a frown. “But the rest of the story is entirely ridiculous—Gluttony having a false Gate of Truth in his stomach ? Absurd—Ed and Greed are definitely fucking with me.”

“Language,” Hughes chides, skimming the coded letter again just to be sure that he hadn’t somehow mis-ciphered it.

“You’ve said worse before,” Selim complains, crossing his arms. “And what—they just all left each other alone after all that?”

“Ed says they were completely exhausted, and so were Envy and Gluttony, so they just—decided to call it a day,” Hughes supplies.

Selim purses his lips. “That sounds like bull—crap. I’m sure what actually happened was that both Gluttony and Envy showed up, Greed got thrashed by them, somehow the rest of them managed to fight back, and Ed thinks it’s funny to list out improbable powers for my siblings.”

“Be that as it may, it does sound like Envy has been weakened a lot, not to mention Gluttony.”

Pride smiles a wolfish grin with far too many teeth as the eyes in his shadows open wide. “Then the only one at full power is Wrath; Sloth won’t be able to heal from the injuries I gave him at Briggs that easily.”

(Unfortunately, it also sounds like both of the homunculi on their side were wounded as well, but Hughes isn't going to bring that up to Selim.)

Roy himself was starting to get the hang of the circle-less alchemy, although he was still using his gloves for fighting, since he was most used to that.

And in Hughes’ opinion, the best part of Promised Day preparations is Greed showing up and acting almost exactly the way an annoying younger brother to Selim would act.

Provided, of course, that said younger brother was sharing a body with a teenaged Xingese  prince and backed by some ex-military human chimeras and Xingese bodyguards.

Greed is currently gloating to Selim about how he’s going to be an emperor when all this is said and done, while Selim is just going to be some eternally youthful kid.

“You never know, you could die during the Promised Day,” Selim comments, shadows swirling ominously around him.

“So could you, you’re not looking so hot these days,” Greed says, picking Selim up and narrowly avoiding a shadow-punch to his torso. “See? If you were at full strength, I totally would have had to armor up for that.”

“If I devoured you, then I believe I could get up to full strength then,” Selim snarls, squirming out of his grasp and wrapping his shadows around him to threateningly shake him for good measure.

The blonde lady with the tattoo steps up then, glaring at Selim. “Try it.”

Greed waves a slightly dismissive hand, some kind of gray, smooth armor growing to cover his torso, and breaks out of Selim’s grasp. “It’s alright Martel—my murderous big brother has now been downsized, and let me tell you, that definitely eats at him more than any of us trying to murder him would. Who did you fight to end up this way anyway? Don’t tell me it was Envy, that’d be so sad.”

“Lust,” Selim mutters resentfully, kicking at the dirt.

Greed shudders. “Fuck, makes sense—she’s so scary. So, she’s dead, right? Are they not letting you devour people or something? You should be fully powered up if you devoured her—”

“She used up her own Philosopher’s Stone to send Mustang through the Gate,” Selim explains, flexing his hands disdainfully.

Greed whistles. “Sounds like Lust. But wait—Mustang is fine, I just saw him. …oh my god, did you use your own Philosopher’s Stone to heal him?”

“…we need him alive,” Selim mutters, glancing away. “Also, are we moving yet, even if all the plans are just down to Envy, even they are eventually going to notice something is off—”

“You did ,” Greed breathes, before turning to Hughes, grabbing his hand, and pumping it up and down. “You must be a miracle worker, even getting Pride to care about other people!”

“Ah, well, Selim just needed some love and care. That’s all anyone wants really,” Hughes replies in bemusement.

Greed’s eyes gleam. “Wow, that’s really so profound—and I heard that you have pictures of him?”

Light glints off Hughes’ glasses, and even Selim shaking his head and pulling on his sleeve doesn’t stop him from pulling out his custom-made, extremely heavy wallet (but love makes it light again!). He opens it up and pictures start unfolding out with a plastic swish.

“I’m delighted you asked! Here’s Selim recently at a sports meet—he tried very hard! And here’s him in a cute little sailor outfit and with my little angel Elicia in a matching outfit—and here’s the two of them building a fort—he’s a really great big brother! And here’s my darling wife Gracia with our babies, aren’t they lovely? And here’s Selim and Elicia making a snowman—here’s the two of them trying to ‘help’ Gracia bake cookies—here’s Elicia’s school play, Selim stayed up all night to help her practice her line—”

“You don’t need to show him all that,” Selim interjects, attempting to shove all the pictures back into Hughes’ wallet.

“Uh, no, he definitely does,” Greed says gleefully, holding a picture of Selim all bundled up and using a sled. “Aw how cute — ”

“I can still kill you,” Selim says darkly.

“No you can’t, I’m essential to all of Mustang’s plans,” Greed says blithely, still looking over the pictures with no sign of stopping (this is the longest Hughes has ever managed to get someone to willingly look at these photos—obviously Greed can’t be that bad of a guy, just based on that). “Wow, these photos are amazing—who do you talk to to get all these developed? We have a lot of photos of Nina we’d love to print out.”

“Oh, there’s a Xingese guy in Central who runs a great little photo development studio, and I am one of his most loyal patrons, so I’m sure I can get you a discount depending on how many photos you’re planning on printing out. How is Nina, by the way? We heard from Ed that you managed to reverse the transmutation—that’s really amazing,” Hughes says sincerely.

Greed laughs proudly, his hands on his hips. “Indeed we did! She’s doing really well—her and that Xingese princess that was hanging around Scar get on pretty well! She even wanted her hair in braids and tried to do some of the martial arts moves.”

(It’s a weight off Hughes’ chest that Nina seems to have not only have found a way to have what her father did to her undone, but seems to have managed to find another family of sorts.  

Selim had been unimpressed by the news, but Hughes has figured out that Selim will never show any positive feelings toward Greed if he can help it.)

“I’m so glad,” Hughes says, pressing a hand against his chest. “So is she—you didn’t bring her with you, did you?”

“Nah, this is no place for a kid right now.” Greed shrugs. “We left her with Granny Pinako, even though she wasn’t all that happy to be left behind.”

(Elicia hadn’t been happy either, but if it was up to him, Selim would also be off in Xing.

They have to win today so all of them can be safe and sound.)

The radio at their side crackles to life, and Roy’s broadcast about the corruption in the upper ranks begins, with Mrs. Bradley even chiming in to thank Roy and his team for keeping her alive.

“Well, that’s our signal, we better get going then,” Hughes says, turning away a bit regretfully. “Still—it was nice meeting you Greed! I do hope I can show you all of our family pictures someday.”

“I am very much looking forward to that,” Greed replies with a wide grin. “I’ll have pictures of Nina then too! And lots of stories to tell!

Selim makes a noise of disgust deep in his throat and snaps, “I can’t believe you even had the gall to make up that story about Gluttony. Gluttony, of all people.”

“Hey, that was 100% the truth!” Greed protests, placing a hand on his chest. “You can ask Ed, he was there! Didn’t he write you guys a letter?”

Selim sniffs. “Obviously both of you think it’s funny to see if I would actually fall for it.”

“No, it definitely happened,” Ed says, appearing in the tunnel along with Al, a small Xingese girl named Mei, who has some kind of black and white creature on her shoulder (…it looks something between a bear and a cat), and Scar himself. “You can ask Al! He was there too!”

Al nods seriously, placing his hands together. “They really all got sucked in! It was pretty scary—I was really worried for a while. Although apparently not as worried as either of them, since they started eating shoes .”

“Hey! It was one boot, and we hadn’t even managed to boil it enough to chew on it before Envy showed up!” Ed protests.

Selim still looks extremely skeptical, looking between Ed and Greed. “…you’re telling me that you somehow convinced Envy to help you out of there? Envy? ”

Greed shrugs. “That was all Ed, I’m as surprised as you are about the whole thing. I was prepared to beat them into even uglier paste.”

“That definitely wouldn’t have worked,” Ed says, giving Greed a withering glance. “We managed to come to an understanding.”

“Yeah, after they swallowed you,” Greed mutters under his breath.

Hughes’ eyebrows shoot up. “Wait—what? You didn’t mention that in your letter!”

Ed rubs the back of his head, looking a bit awkward. “Nearly swallowed, nearly swallowed—”

“Well it’s not like I could even see your legs anymore, so I’m pretty sure you at least went down their throat,” Greed points out.

Selim somehow looks even less impressed than he previously did now. “And you’re expecting me to believe you convinced them while in their throat? ”

“We were their only way out!” Ed points out, gesticulating wildly. “It’s not like they knew any alchemy in order to get themselves out on their own.”

“Another thing Lust didn’t teach them then, along with strategy and patience,” Selim muses. “Well, fine—and I suppose after all that, Envy was too weak to attack any of you?”

“They did try, but Scar was there too, so,” Ed shrugs, gesturing over at the silent man. “Envy needed all they had just to escape at that point.”

“They will meet their end today,” Scar says simply, his eyes trained forward. “For starting the war and all the other atrocities they have done.”

Hughes stops in place. “…they started the war? The Ishval war? How?”

Ed shifts uncomfortably in place, glancing at Greed. “Well—that soldier who fired the first shot—that was Envy shapeshifted into them.”

(…yeah, if Scar doesn’t kill them, Hughes is probably going to.

Or Roy will, if Roy hears about this.

…did Selim know about this?)

Hughes can’t help but glance over at Selim, who notices, and shrugs, the line of his jaw tight. “That was Envy,” he acknowledges. “But if we want to talk about war crimes and starting wars, both Greed and I have done a lot over the years as well.”

“Under Father’s orders,” Hughes says immediately.

Selim inclines his head in acknowledgement. “Yes, but did we learn to enjoy it sometimes too? I know I did.”

“Speak for yourself, you and Envy were the main ones who like to go on those ‘humans are the inferior beings’ rant,” Greed retorts, propping his arms behind his head. “Maybe I liked the work sometimes, but I got tired of it after a while.”

(…they’re all monstrous, but in many ways, they’re also children.

Even Envy, Hughes supposes, even if Envy had seemed far too gleeful about the prospect of killing him and hurting Pride.)

Everyone is quiet for a bit, before Mei pipes up, “It feels like something is coming closer—”

Roy steps out of the tunnels, adjusting his gloves and looking around at them. “Oh, there you guys are. Everything proceeding as planned?”

Hughes frowns. “Shouldn’t you be up top with Mrs. Bradley?”

“Oh, Lieutenant Hawkeye and the rest of them should be able to hold them,” Roy says breezily, stepping closer. “And—”

Hughes has his knives out before Mei can pull out hers. “Roy always calls her Riza in private.”

Roy grimaces, and his face shifts to reveal Envy’s face as they start to retreat. “Shit, so it’s like that—”

“A bluff, but one that works,” Hughes points out before hitting Envy square in the head and throat with his knives as Mei’s knives go out and form some kind of circle that stops Envy in their tracks.

(Oh, a Xingese alchemist?

He’d never met any of those—rather young too, wasn’t she?

Of course, so was Ling—something to do with their emperor father and the two of them wanting to prove themselves.

That emperor is also a terrible father, and Hughes hopes that somehow both of these children manage to find a way forward.

Of course, first they have to survive today.)

Envy is already healing up from those wounds, glaring hatefully at Selim as they pull the knives out. “ You. You killed Lust. ”

“I did,” Selim says coolly, his shadows rising slowly around him. “And I’ve waited a long time to kill you as well.”

Envy throws their head back, their laughter mad and cackling as it echoes across the tunnels. “Oh, Pride—you have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that. Hey, Gluttony! I found Lust’s killer.”

A large, fat man ambles into view, his eyes somewhat vacant, but his mouth bared into a snarl. “Lust’s killer? Where?”

Envy points at Selim. “Right there, our dear eldest brother.”

Gluttony’s eyes narrow, and he bellows, “ PRIDE! YOU KILLED LUST!”

Ed and Greed immediately start scrambling, grabbing onto everyone’s sleeves and hurrying them all forward, “Run, run, run, run runrunrun—”

There’s a strange cracking noise, and when Hughes looks back from pulling Selim forward, he sees a giant eye opening up across Gluttony’s abdomen, and then a beam shoots out (oh shit oh fuck, Greed and Ed definitely hadn’t been making anything up) and every place it hits, there’s just—nothing there.

Selim is also just staring at Gluttony, so Hughes simply picks him up and starts running after everyone bolting away. “Come on, we need to get out of here!”

“But—Father said that experiment with the Gate failed— ” Pride yells over Gluttony hurtling forward and blasting away.

“Yeah, well, it didn’t work all the way, because that’s not the Gate, but it’s definitely some kind of Gate, and you do not want to go in there, so book it !” Greed yells over his shoulder.

“This isn’t going to work,” Scar says through gritted teeth as they race forward. “I can stay behind and hold them off—”

“You’ve got alchemy that Father can’t turn off, you need to keep going,” Ed interjects, pushing him forward. “Mei too,—me and Al can stay here, while the rest of you keep going—”

“Uh, you don’t have a Philosopher’s Stone, so you go ahead, and me and Martel and Dolcetto will take care of this,” Greed interrupts, gesturing at his two chimera friends who were also frantically dodging Gluttony’s blasts.

“I have to stay, Gluttony is after me ,” Selim points out, trying his best to whip his shadows around to catch hold of Gluttony, but it seems his range is still limited right now.

“…Ed, Al, Martel, Dolcetto, all of you go with Scar and Mei,” Hughes decides, pulling out his knives and throwing a few after Gluttony, only to see them disappear in his blasts. “The rest of us will finish them off here.”

“None of you are alchemists!” Ed points out, busy clapping his hands and throwing up barriers that Gluttony just tears through like paper.

“Make Al go forward then while you stay—Envy seems to get along with you, weirdly!” Greed yells, some kind of strange gray armor covering his hands as he smashes up the tunnels to provide more material for Ed to transmute with.

“That is bizarre —get me close enough, and I think I can consume him, and then that will solve enough of our problems!” Selim yells.

Al doesn’t seem all that willing to go, but Hughes pins him with a look and says softly, “We don’t have time here, go .”

Al pauses, nods at that, claps his brother on his back, before taking off with Mei and the other two chimeras. Scar on the other hand, doesn’t budge, his tattooed hand flexing as destructive energy crackles around it.

“You need to go too,” Hughes urges.

Scar doesn’t even look at him. “I said I’d be here to see the end of the one who kickstarted Ishval’s misery, and I intend to keep my word.”

(Well, it wasn’t like any of them could ever tell Scar to do anything, and besides—hopefully Al and Mei would meet up with Ed and Al’s dad soon?

Although Hughes also had a lot of opinions on a father who would just up and leave his wife and kids for so long—

And yes, it had been to explained to him the entire immortality, Philosopher’s Stone, centuries of planning situation going on with the Elric patriarch, but still—

He can’t help but judge him for that.)

“Oh Pride,” Envy coos from his corner as Gluttony rampages around and Selim does his best to dodge. “You really don’t have many souls left in there, huh? Glad to know that Lust left a mark—of course, hanging around all these pathetic humans probably hasn’t done you any favors either, huh? Oh, you know what would be fun? Why don’t we start by having Gluttony swallow down your dear adoptive dad first—finish off the job as it were. I really don’t like unfinished business after all—although you were the pathetic groveling little shit who stopped me in the first place—”

Hughes sees red , and his next knife hurtles towards Envy instead of Gluttony.

Sadly, Envy barely seems to react as he pulls another knife out of his throat (but is it just the light, or is the wound closing just a tad more slowly than it did before?), and he just chuckles harder as they all attempt to avoid Gluttony’s blasts. “Ohhhhh, you didn’t like that much did you, Maes Hughes? I guess him saving you made up for his absolute shit personality—not that it’s going to help all that much because you’re all going to die— ”

“If only you worked as hard as you talked, Envy,” Selim spits out, running up some steps Ed had created to try to get close to Gluttony, but Gluttony vaults away and lets out another beam that takes down those steps. “But I suppose with both Lust and I gone, Father has been running you ragged—healing a bit slow there, aren’t you? Do you even have enough to keep your true form from showing at this point—”

“ You are a fucking traitor and a fucking disgrace,” Envy says, gnashing their teeth. “I’m going to have Gluttony snap him in half right in front of you, and you won’t even have enough souls left over to try and save him—”

There’s a burst of fire, and Roy steps into view.

“You can try it, but I don’t much like your odds,” Roy says mildly before clicking his fingers, and flames burst out, both driving Gluttony back and burning up Envy, who screams.

“ Fuck— Gluttony! That man killed Lust too!” Envy yells out, and then—

Arms split out from all over their side as they twist, and the space seems to fill and darken—

And there’s some kind of monstrosity with a dog like head, far too many limbs, and all kinds of rotting human bodies hanging off of it—and they’re all moving —poking out and then pulling them back in—

Selim’s shadows give a hearty shove, and Hughes hits the wall right before another blast from Gluttony would have connected (although Hughes is starting to worry a bit about if the sewer’s structural integrity will hold at this rate).

“Pay attention!” Selim snaps. “It’s just their normal form—it’s gross, but it’s also dumb since now Mustang has even more surface area to work with.”

Hughes blinks as he does notice that Roy has wasted no time in setting more and more of Envy’s monstrous body on fire, and the sound of gunfire and bullets hitting Gluttony signal that Riza is also providing cover, although Gluttony seems still as enraged and energized as ever.

(They need to get rid of Gluttony first—those beams are really no joke.

And as much as he doesn’t like it—

Selim probably really is the best one to do it.

He can’t really afford to be squeamish right now even if his son eating his own sibling is a bit brutal—

But said sibling is also trying to kill them, and it doesn’t seem like either of them are about to stop, and it’s not like Selim seems all that fond of them anyway, so—

It’s terrible, but terrible things happen in war sometimes.

Maybe if there’s a next life, both Gluttony and Lust will end up somewhere better.)

“…if you can get close to him, you can devour him?” Hughes asks Selim.

Selim nods, holding his head high. “I’ll gain his powers too.”

Hughes sucks in a breath (well that was pretty terrifying—would they now have to feed Selim a lot more food?) and places a hand on Selim’s shoulder. “…stay safe,” he says seriously. “Don’t get hurt, alright?”

(He never wants to see Selim as pale and barely moving as right after his fight with Lust.)

“I’ll be fine,” Selim’s small hand pats his back before he goes. “Just watch me.”

And it’s not like he can take his eyes off his son, dodging blasts and throwing knives when he sees an opening. Gluttony has concentrated all his firepower on Roy and Selim, but since Roy seems to have reduced Envy to barely anything—Hughes can’t even make them out anymore, he must have had very few souls left to end up like that—Roy is also concentrating all his flames on Gluttony now.

Between his explosions, Riza’s constant accurate strikes, Scar’s strange alchemy, and Ed and Greed working in tandem to provide shields, they really do manage to clear out a path that has Selim running in and his shadows seizing hold of Gluttony.

Gluttony struggles in his grasp, the weird eye with teeth in his stomach opening and closing as Selim reels him in.

“No! No! Pride! YOU KILLED LUST! YOU AND MUSTANG!”

“We did,” Selim agrees, a sharp grin across his face as despite Gluttony’s veins standing out from his constant strain against his grasp, he doesn’t break loose. “And now I’m going to devour you.”

“I HATE YOU! ” Gluttony shrieks. “ I HOPE YOU DIE !”

“You may get your wish at that,” Pride says darkly before Gluttony disappears into his shadows, and the eyes in Pride’s shadows suddenly begin sporting sharp teeth.

(…well Hughes wasn’t going to lie, that was pretty disconcerting.

And—

He can’t help but feel sorry for Gluttony in the end.

It seemed that the homunculi really did have some bonds between them—although it didn’t appear that Pride had really bonded with any of his siblings before.

The fact that he did with Elicia probably just further proves Hughes’ theory that Elicia is an angel and that Selim is also an angel, just one that has to be redeemed from a demonic past first.)

While Selim is busy stretching out his shadows and seeming to test his reach, Roy and Ed both walk closer to where Envy had been caged, and as the smoke clears, Hughes can see—

It looks kind of like some kind of lizard with one giant bulging eye, or maybe some kind of very big caterpillar.

( That was what Envy looked like with most of their stone destroyed?

…would Selim look like that too?

Of course they’d love him regardless, but mobility was definitely going to be an issue if Selim got that tiny.)

“You said you started the Ishval War?” Roy asks darkly, reaching forward. “I’m pretty sure I heard that echoing in the tunnels. And you tried to kill Maes. When I’m done with you, I’ll—”

Ed snatches away Envy, holding him in his automail hand. “You’re not going to do anything.”

“Hand it over, Fullmetal,” Roy says, his eyes narrowed. “That thing has to answer for everything it has done.”

“I said no,” Ed says stubbornly even as Envy tries to gnaw away at his hand.

“Do you want me to fight you?” Roy asks, his hands moving slightly.

(Oh shit—

He knows how Roy feels, but this really isn’t the time for that.)

Hughes glances over at Riza, and they nod at each other as she points her gun at Roy, and he pulls out his knives.

“Roy, let’s leave it for now, yeah?” Hughes calls out steadily. “I’m still alive, and we have other things to deal with.”

Roy turns around. “We have it right there —the cause of everything— ”

“We know, but right here—you’re not trying to do this for the good of the country or us, you’re doing it just out of pure hatred ,” Riza says, her hand shaking a bit as she holds her gun up. “Don’t do this.”

“How can you expect to lead a country, looking like that?” Ed demands angrily.

Greed nods. “It’s not a good look.”

Scar shifts in place and says softly, “…I won’t stand in the way of someone else’s vengeance, but I wonder what kind of world can be created by a beast hiding in the skin of a person?”

Roy’s hands are still up, but he is starting to look a bit more conflicted.

At this point, Selim’s voice floats over, oddly eerie as his shadows shift and the eyes with teeth open all around to stare at Envy. “…Envy was the cause, of course. But don’t forget, Father was the one who gave the orders, and Greed and I have also committed atrocities under Father’s orders. Personally, I don’t care if you kill them or not, but if you fight Papa on this, I will have to come to his defense.”

“Roy, you don’t want to be that person, remember?” Hughes urges.

Roy’s shoulders slowly shift down, and he lets out a curse as he blows a fireball straight into the wall. “Scolded by children, lectured by former enemies, and worst of all, making you two worry—I’m sorry.”

Hughes lets out a breath as Riza also lowers her gun. “…it’s alright Roy.”

“…you’re not a fool. All of you working together—what a joke,” the tiny Envy spits out, its legs wiggling around. “I’m about to throw up—you humans should drop the pretense and listen to your instincts! Mustang! Didn’t Scar try to kill you? And you, runt—didn’t Scar kill your little girlfriend’s parents? Oh yeah—Greed, have you forgotten how he tried to kill that chimera girl you took in? Hughes, Hawkeye—I caused the Ishval War and let both of you kill so many people! Scar, some of the most efficient killers of your people’s genocide are right in front of you, what are you waiting for? Pride, Greed—have both of you forgotten how much you hate each other? Greed, Pride sold you out. He got your friends killed!”

Envy cackles madly. “What a group we have here! Keep hating, crying, and killing each other as you writhe in misery! Crawl on the ground like worms! There’s no way you insects can live together peacefully! Isn’t that right, small fry?”

They look around, but no one is moving, and Envy seems to get increasingly agitated in Ed’s grasp. “…why? Why?! Why?! WHY?! Damnit!”

“…you’re jealous of us,” Ed says wonderingly, looking at Envy in his hand. “Humans are supposed to be much weaker than you homunculi but—no matter how often we get beaten down, discouraged, lose our way, come close to falling, we keep fighting on, even if we know it’s for superficial reasons. We find strength in each other—and that’s why you’re jealous of humans.”

(…huh.

Hughes had never considered that—

Was it the same for Selim and Greed?)

Hughes glances over at Selim, who looks a little nonplussed, his eyes all blinking in unison, while Greed seems more nonchalant about the whole thing, wagging a finger and telling Ed, “Hey, you better hand them over to me if you want them to stay alive—I can tell they’re about to rip their own Stone out, you were a little too direct there.”

“Just let them rip it out, and we’ll finally get some peace,” Selim mutters as Greed carbonizes his hand, takes hold of a squirming and biting Envy, and then sticks them into a jar to hand back to Ed.

“Don’t be like that, Pride, we’ve barely got any siblings left with the way you keep killing them,” Greed chides, slapping Selim on the back.

One of Selim’s eyes tries to bite at Greed, but its teeth slide right off of Greed’s armor.

(…at least Selim has one homunculi sibling he kind of gets along with, Hughes supposes?)

“Well then, let’s hope our luck holds, and we also finish off Father then,” Selim finally says, striding forward.

Hughes pats Roy on the back and hurries forward to keep an eye out for anything that could attack Selim.

(Even if Selim now has more power and teeth in his eyes, a boy always needs his dad, especially when he’s about to go confront his absolute shitstain of a father.)

Chapter Text

Technically, they’re all in a better state now.

Gluttony is dead, Envy is as good as dead more or less (Pride still doesn’t understand why Ed would want to keep him alive, but in the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t actually matter), and based on Major General Armstrong’s reports, Sloth has been sent over to deal with her, but her and her Briggs soldiers, along with Ed’s terrifying teacher and her husband, should be enough to deal with him.

That leaves Wrath as the only homunculus left that they should have to deal with. Having all of Gluttony’s souls and powers, along with, he supposes, Greed, it should be a fairly straightforward fight.

(That said—

Gluttony hadn’t had quite as many souls as Pride had expected when he had consumed him. Mustang must have burned through quite a few, and who knew what that false Gate and beam consumed?

And Pride very much doubts that Greed will be of much use if one of his beloved chimeras or that Xingese prince’s bodyguards got hurt or something.

…he hadn’t wanted Hughes to come here at all, but how could Hughes not be a key part of one of Mustang’s plans?

The only way to keep Hughes and the rest from getting hurt is to take down Father—

And that isn’t an easy thing at all, even if they had somehow convinced every single one of his siblings to defect.

Still, they do have an interesting array of allies at this point.

Besides Scar and the tiny Xingese alchemist, Ed said that his father—who apparently shares both a face and a history with Father, which is just fucking bizarre —had gone on ahead to confront Father.

Pride is extremely skeptical of his odds there, even if he’s a walking talking human Philosopher’s Stone who invented a different form of alchemy—it isn’t like Father doesn’t know any of that, and he’s sure he’s come up with some preparations.

Not to mention that both Greed and him are actually part of Father, and if Father activates the circle enough, he may be able to take both of their Philosopher's Stone right from them.

Ironic, given how he had just stolen Gluttony’s Stone.

So basically—

They couldn’t let him activate the circle, or they were pretty much done for.)

“…I feel like we should have seen Al and Mei by now,” Ed says, rubbing at his mouth with his hand. “We weren’t there for that long, were we?”

“No,” Pride confirms with a frown, looking around and reaching his shadows forward. “Oh—him. But I would have thought Al and that girl could have taken care of him…”

“Who?” Ed demands, looking around.

Before Pride can answer, the gold-toothed doctor walks forward, clapping as he stares at Pride’s shadows with teeth. “Fine work, truly—I had no idea you could absorb your siblings’ abilities! I wonder if it will work with prototypes though?”

A large number of sword-wielding men emerge from the shadows, and Greed begins to armor up while complaining, “How come you didn’t see that?”

“They don’t—there’s something weird about them,” Pride narrows his eyes and reaches out with his shadows to grab them, but then they move—

(Almost the way Wrath moves.)

“Ah, they weren’t fit to fully become Wrath, but put together, they’re a menace to be sure,” the gold tooth on the doctor gleams. “Enough to kill you again, Greed—and as for you Pride, Father has special plans for you.”

Pride sneers, already having grabbed onto one prototype and in the midst of devouring them (a few souls, which he is definitely going to need). “Well, you won’t live to see them.”

He reaches out to grab the doctor—

And a sword hurtles straight at him. The only reason he manages to dodge the strike is because Hughes sent a knife over there to deflect the blow somewhat.

Standing in front of him, soaked but mostly still in one piece, is Wrath, eyepatch gone and Ultimate Eye blazing.

“Pride. I have to say, I’m sorry it has come to this,” Wrath says, readying his sword.

(…out of all his siblings, the one that he had hated the least had been Wrath.

Of course, that could be partially due to Wrath having only been around for 60 or so years, but there was also the fact that Wrath had generally deferred to him and given him the respect that, as the eldest of the homunculi, Pride was due.

He had always been quiet and dutiful—

Which is of course why there was never any question that he would stay at Father’s side and they would now inevitably come to blows.

…if he can help it, he won’t devour him.

It’s the least he can do for Wrath.)

“…I am as well,” Pride says honestly before lashing out with his shadows.

Wrath leaps away, and suddenly there is an explosion that blinds him for a second—and when his vision clears, Kimblee is also standing there in his pristine white suit, rubbing his hands together as he looks around and spots Scar.

“Well, well, well—I finally find you here. Odd company you’re keeping—don’t know how I missed you during the War, but I’ll rectify that here and now.”

Scar goes still and hurtles after him. “You didn’t manage to kill me during the War, and you’re going to live to regret that now .”

Pride enjoys the shock that flashes across Kimblee’s face as he tries to dodge Scar’s strikes (at last—he had never seen that man ever on the wrong foot before—it nearly makes this bizarre alliance worth it), and then he’s too busy dodging Wrath’s strikes to deal with Scar and Kimblee’s fight.

He’s never had to fight against Wrath before—that would have definitely blown both of their covers, but here and now, he gets to see that while Wrath is the youngest of them, he certainly is not the weakest. He seemingly effortlessly dodges all of Pride’s strikes, throws out timely flash bombs, and stabs at him.

(Well—

The important thing here isn’t necessarily defeating Wrath, it’s stopping Father.

And for that—all the alchemists need to move forward.)

Pride dodges another stab of Wrath’s sword as he casts a glance over towards Ed and Mustang. They both seem preoccupied with fighting off the Wrath prototypes, so Pride quickly shifts over to that side and then replenishes the souls used by devouring the Wrath prototypes there.

(Sadly, they don’t have a lot in them either—

But beggars can’t be choosers right now.)

“Go!” he snaps at both of them, reaching out towards the gold-toothed doctor. “We’ll hold off Wrath and Kimblee here—”

There’s a crackle of lightning, and Pride’s eyes widen as a transmutation circle lights up all around them.

( Shit —

Not again —)

Ed and Mustang look surprised as they disappear, and Pride frantically turns around to reassure himself that Hughes is still there (yep, still fighting off Wrath prototypes with Hawkeye and trying to make his way over), before turning back to the gold-toothed doctor.

“Where did you send them?” he demands, reaching out for him.

“To Father—and you should really worry about yourself, Pride,” the gold-toothed doctor answers as Wrath comes barreling in again. “Father is displeased.”

“Then he can tell me that himself!” Pride snaps, dodging Wrath’s strike and trying to extend out his shadows further.

“Father doesn’t have time to deal with your tantrum,” Wrath says steadily, throwing another flash bomb at him.

“Is that what you think this is? Just a tantrum?” Pride demands, wincing as Wrath manages to stab him in the side.

“…I’m not entirely sure what it is besides the fact that you suddenly went insane and decided to start working against Father,” Wrath snarls, slicing both of his swords forward. “You’ve forgotten yourself, Pride—or should I call you Selim now?”

(That would have stung once.

For whatever reason—it doesn’t right now.

Selim was the fake human persona he put on for so long—

But Hughes and Gracia both saw his true face and still call him Selim, so maybe it is closer to the real him than he realized?

Like—he’s still Pride obviously.

But maybe he is Selim as well.)

“And how is Mrs. Bradley?” Pride retorts back. “When Father consumes her to achieve godhood, will you think it all worth it then?”

Wrath’s sword seems to swing just a smidge wide, and his expression grows even uglier. “…do not talk about her.”

“Why? You’re the one who decided that you could sacrifice her,” Pride points out, spilling his shadows forward.

“And you were the one who told me that Father knows best and that children all have to make sacrifices for their parents,” Wrath snarls, dodging his shadows with an inhumane speed and nearly stabbing him in the head.

(…perhaps there is some merit in the idea that he hadn’t been a good sibling either.

He hadn’t really known what it meant to be a good sibling before he had become Elicia’s big brother.

Of course, Elicia had made it easy—the entire Hughes family had.

…he would have once scoffed at what Ed had told Envy, but now he thinks that—

Humans have something none of them have.

And it’s worth fighting to preserve them.)

“…some sacrifices should not be made, and I’m sorry that I made you believe that,” Pride manages to choke out.

Greed pops up at this moment, helping parry one of Wrath’s blows while also helping Scar out by throwing things at Kimblee and gaping at Pride. “…oh my fucking god—Hughes really did change you!”

“Focus on fucking fighting!” Pride snaps, shoving Greed away and trying once again to swallow Wrath in shadows.

Wrath just throws another flash bomb (god—Lust must have told them all to stock up or something after his defection), and Pride grunts as he gets stabbed through the guts for his efforts.

“You are weak now,” Wrath says dispassionately, driving his sword in deeper. “No matter—I will bring you to Father for him to reabsorb you.”

A knife comes whistling in, embedding itself in the back of Wrath’s head as Hughes strides forward under Hawkeye’s covering fire and snarls, “Just try it, you mother-fucker!”

Pride immediately pulls at Hughes with his shadows, doing his best to get Hughes out of Wrath’s range. “Back up, back up, back up !”

Hawkeye’s shots also land squarely on Wrath for a bit while he pulls the knife out and regenerates, and then after that, he’s too busy blocking Hawkeye’s shots with his sword to pay much attention to Hughes.

Pride glances over to the charred and destroyed battlefield between Scar and Kimblee (oh good—it looked as though Greed had caught up with the gold-toothed doctor and at least finished him off), and it appears as though Scar might have the upper hand there—he seems to be capable of reconstructing things with his left hand now. Maybe it’s that new tattoo; Pride has never been super clear on how Scar’s powers work.

Kimblee doesn’t seem all that close to flagging, still using the Philosopher’s Stone clenched between his teeth, but Scar’s reach is much longer, and he has the build of one of those Ishvalan warrior priests.

(…he might be the only one left of those.

Not that he feels all that bad about it—he’s lost track of how many nations and cultures they’ve destroyed over the years to properly set up Father’s circle.

Still, maybe he can—just help a little bit here.

Just because he vowed to himself that he would eventually destroy Kimblee. He might as well help Scar in his vengeance.

He’s got none of the moral high ground that prevented Mustang from just straight-up killing Envy after all.)

He flicks out a shadow and yanks the Philosopher’s Stone away from Kimblee, consuming it at the same time (ah—a nice infusion of souls after that battering from Wrath), and Scar doesn’t even pause to look in his direction before grabbing hold of Kimblee’s arm and tearing it off in a spray of blood and gore.

He then rips off the other arm (smart, now Kimblee can’t do any alchemy without his hands, even if he does have another Philosopher’s Stone stored somewhere—Pride wouldn’t put it past him), and then he’s immediately turning around and hurtling like a blood-soaked battering ram at Wrath.

Pride is willing to let Scar take care of Kimblee, but Wrath would be a better infusion of souls, so Pride hurtles forth with his tooth-filled shadows—

And gets yet another flash bomb in his face for his troubles.

By the time it clears up and he can see again, he sees that Hughes and Hawkeye have been blocking blows for him while Greed has pulled out a sword to go up against Wrath (he guesses sword-fighting is one of Greed’s host’s skills, since Greed has never shown an inclination toward it before), but it’s in Scar that Wrath may have met his match. Scar is like a force of nature, destroying and recreating things in a storm of stone and ash.

At this point, they’ve traveled so far down the tunnel that they’re sloping up and starting to see daylight from the holes in the walls—presumably alchemist work, so they are getting closer to Father even as they fight here.

Pride thinks the eclipse is also drawing near—what little he can see outside seems dark.

(It’s drawing close then—

He wishes he had enough power to stretch his souls out all the way to see if Ed and the rest of them are close to stopping Father, but currently it’s taking all he has just to block Wrath’s attacks.)

Wrath is monologuing something about Ishvalan teachings and how there is no God at Scar, and while it does seem to be pissing him off, a flare of fire from somewhere up ahead suddenly bursts into view (they must be close, that looked like Mustang), and Wrath is distracted just enough for Scar to get a solid hit in.

Wrath coughs up blood, and for the first time that Pride can remember, Wrath looks old.

(He should have more souls than that, shouldn’t he?

But Father had probably been using him hard—what with Envy being the eldest charge, even more duties had probably fallen to the youngest of the homunculi.)

In the fleeting moment while Wrath is staggering, Scar reaches out—and in a blast of blood, Wrath’s arms are no more.

Wrath falls to the ground, his swords clattering at his side, and Pride draws close, his shadows gathering around Wrath.

“Will you consume me then?” Wrath asks, looking up at Pride.

(He should—he needs all the souls he can get before facing off against Father.

But—

Consigning Wrath to the howling abyss inside of him—

He doesn’t want to.

It makes no strategic sense, but—

He won’t.)

“…no,” Pride says finally, his shadows withdrawing as he looks down the hallway. “If you die, then you die on your own terms, not mine.”

Wrath lets out a bloody chuckle, slumping against the dirt. “You have changed.” He turns his head to stare at Hughes, who has run up. “Father should never have let you infiltrate the Hughes household—you would never have changed if you had posed as my son instead.”

“Yes,” Pride agrees, inclining his head and looking at Hughes. “…but I wouldn’t change that.”

“No,” Wrath says contemplatively, looking up at the ceiling. “No, I don’t think you would—any more than I would change my wife. Go then. Confront our Father—and I won’t wish you luck, but neither will I curse you.”

“…Goodbye Wrath,” Pride says, standing up and walking away.

(Probably, Scar will kill him.

And if Scar doesn’t kill him, he’s sure Greed will, since Wrath was the one who had actually killed some of Greed’s precious chimeras.

Wrath deserves it of course—but if Wrath deserves it, then doesn’t he as well?

How much blood is on his hands?

How many souls is he made up of?

There is no way to make up for that—but he’s not willing to die until he at least makes sure Hughes, Gracia, and Elicia are all safe.)

He feels Hughes’ hand on his shoulder as they walk further down the hall, closer to the noise of battle, and of course, closer to Father.

“Are you alright?” Hughes asks, crouching down a bit so they are at eye-level to each other.

Pride shrugs off his hand and pulls him up with his shadows. “I’m fine, you need to be on alert now.”

“Yes, but—Selim, we just confronted three of your siblings—”

“And they’re all either dead or as good as dead now, what of it?” Pride snaps, striding forward. “We still have to face down Father and win.”

“We do,” Hughes agrees. “But that doesn’t mean that I can’t check in on you. It’s a lot—and maybe we don’t have time to talk through all of it now, but at some point, if you ever want to, we should.”

(This is all assuming of course that there is a future point in time that they can talk about all that.

Well, he better make sure there is.

Just the thought of Hughes dying makes him want to scream.)

“Alright,” Pride agrees, mainly just to get Hughes focused on the actual battle ahead of them. “I will. Now can we please focus on Father?”

Hughes draws out his knives, his glasses gleaming. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting this guy—I can’t wait to stab him in the eye.”

“You are fast becoming my favorite human, outside of Ling and Lan Fan,” Greed informs Hughes, loping past them. “Also you need to survive to introduce me to that Xingese photographer guy.”

“ You need to focus on not dying again ,” Pride snaps.

Greed simpers at him, holding an armored hand to his chest. “Why Pride, big brother, I had no idea you cared .”

“I don’t care,” Pride retorts immediately, his nose wrinkling. “It would just be a shame for your host. And you know, Ed.”

“He is your sibling, Selim—one of the few on your side,” Hughes points out gently. “You know that all of us love you very much, and of course Elicia is your number one little sister, but Greed can probably relate to you better on many things—”

“Elicia is the only sibling I need,” Pride sniffs. “And—”

“Pride.”

(Just his name from Father drips with all the disappointment, disdain, and utter disgust that he has ever heard from his progenitor, and it makes even the souls in his body quiet for a split second as all he can focus on is how much he’s failed his progenitor.

…progenitor though, not parent.

Because parents—

Parents actually listen and care about their children—about their wants and desires and dreams—like Hughes and Gracia do—

Father is a terrible parent.)

“Father,” he acknowledges him, while carefully throwing his shadows back to guard Hughes. “You appear to be having some trouble.”

Father dodges an attack from Ed and Ed’s father, and stares impassively at all of them. “Not really. You’re all exactly where I need you to be.”

And then he slams his hand against the floor and—

( Oh fucking shit hell fuck.

The transmutation circle is live. )

He turns, expecting to see Hughes and Hawkeye and the rest of them all falling apart—

But despite dropping to their knees, they still seem to be alive?

At the very least, they’re all breathing.

Ed’s father clears his throat. “You didn’t think I wouldn’t have put some plans in place myself, did you?”

(…okay, so maybe Ed’s father isn’t quite as useless as Pride had mentally written him off as.

He’ll thank him some other time though—he needs to make sure Hughes is okay.

If he isn’t—

Pride doesn’t even want to think about that.)

He can’t see what is going on with Father—there’s a maelstrom of energy and shadows flying around over there, but he also doesn’t care that much about him as he rushes over to Hughes’ side and props him up.

“Are you okay? Do you know what your name is? Who am I? What’s your daughter’s name?” Pride demands, using his shadows to bat away any debris that come flying at them.

“Selim, I’m fine— you’re the one who needs to watch out—oh shit,” Hughes groggily rubs at his forehead, then grabs Pride and yanks him out of the way as something nearly lands on him.

The dust settles and—

A weirdly young version of Father that looks disturbingly kind of like Ed tilts his head as he looks down at Pride.  

“This is what you betrayed me for Pride?” he asks in a monotone. “This human?

“Yes,” Pride says, standing up and shoving Hughes behind himself as best he can, swarming his shadows out so that he can block him from Father’s view better. “And I would do it again.”

Father’s lips thin, but he says coldly, “It is not too late Pride, you can still make amends with me and join me in my New World. Just get rid of these fleas, and you can come back to the fold where you belong.”

“…are you offering me a second chance because there’s no one else left?”

“You see that I’m not bothering to offer one to Greed,” Father points out.

“Yeah, thanks a bunch, Dad ,” Greed spits out, leaping out of the dust and smoke to attack Father.

Pride expects Father to swat him away like a fly, but surprisingly—Father wards off Greed’s attacks, but he’s starting to lose ground to him.

(…the transmutation circle not fully working must have produced some backlash.

Maybe they have a chance here after all.)

Pride sends his shadows in to stab and grab at Father, while still leaving some behind to watch over Hughes and ward off any other attacks from there.

Mustang shouts, and Pride sees soldiers rushing in, all also firing at Father (wow, he assumes that means that Armstrong also took down Sloth. So he and Greed—and Envy, he supposes, but not really—are the last two homunculi standing now).

Briggs soldiers live up to their reputation, and even though Father throws up alchemical barriers to block their shots, he’s also having to dodge Greed’s attacks, his shadows, Mustang’s flames, Hawkeye’s sniping, Hughes’ knives, Ed’s alchemical attacks, the coward Armstrong’s projectiles, Ed’s terrifying teacher jumping into the fray, Greed’s chimeras throwing themselves in furiously, and—

He seems to be wearing down.

But even being worn down, Father isn’t to be trifled with—he unleashes a wave of energy that knocks all of them to their feet and breaks Ed’s fullmetal arm, and then he grabs Greed out of nowhere and—

He can see Father sucking out Greed’s Stone, and he can practically feel Greed’s host hanging onto Greed for dear life, but at this rate, Father is going to suck in both Greed and his host if he doesn’t let go—

And Pride can’t allow that.

(It’s not that he likes Greed—Greed is the absolute worst.

…no, that’s probably Envy, but besides Envy, Greed is still one of his least favorite siblings.

…not that he has a favorite homunculus sibling, what with Wrath doing his best to kill him just now.

But anyway—the point is that if Greed gets sucked in, Father gets a power up, and their side becomes weaker, which isn’t acceptable at all. 

Also, Ed and Hughes will probably both be sad, and that’s not all that great.

However, the only thing he can think of to stop this is to open up the false Gate he consumed and then use his own Philosopher’s Stone to power them through the real Gate to escape that—

And that may very well kill him.

But if he doesn’t do it—everyone is probably going to die.

And that is completely unacceptable.)

Greed has already seemed to trick his host into letting go, and Father is on the very verge of consuming him, but Pride desperately drives his shadows into Father’s arm (sacrilegious, but needs must at this point), opens up the false Gate inside of him, and pulls while flipping through stray memories of alchemists he’s consumed and some of Gluttony’s memories of Lust to figure out how to activate his Philosopher’s Stone to start the transmutation process.

(It hurts.

It feels almost like when Lust had tried to transmute him except somehow worse —he can feel the souls peeling away, but this time it’s much faster, and he’s unraveling, and he’s not sure what’s going to be left after all this—)

“What the fuck are you doing?” Greed screeches as they hurtle through some kind of white void.

“Keeping Father from consuming you and using your powers and saving your worthless life,” Pride snaps.

“Did you ever think I had a plan ?” Greed demands. “I was trying to turn his whole body into the weakest carbon imaginable! I don’t even know if it even took before you dragged me out of there!”

“You never have a plan—and what, you were just planning on leaving your chimeras and your host and that Nina girl all bereft of you?” Pride snarls.

“Oh, like your idea is any better—we’re both going to die here, and who knows if it’ll even stop Father,” Greed moans.

Pride doesn’t get to retort because suddenly they’re both pulled away from each other, and Pride sees—

(It looks like his own memories.

They’re everywhere, and there’s a lot of them—

And then it’s not just his memories, it’s— everyone’s —

Oh god—

Is this—

Was this what it meant to be human?)

The visions end, and suddenly he’s standing in front of a massive carved stone gate, and in front of him—

Is some kind of glowing figure that seems shaped like a small boy about his size, with a bright light hanging behind him.

The glowing figure smiles at him, his grin as sharp and pointed as one of Pride’s own.

Pride. Fancy seeing you here—and coming here trying to save Greed at that.

Pride looks slowly around and then focuses on the glowing figure again. “You’re—you’re Truth, aren’t you? The one Ed and Greed and Mustang talked about…”

(Was this the God that Father so desperately wanted to be?

…the one that he had attacked earlier?

Well, it didn’t look like Father had inflicted much damage on he—it—whatever it was.)

Truth still smiles at him, the light around him waving slightly. Ah, Pride. You have managed to grow beyond your origins slightly—more than I can say for your progenitor.

“…where’s Greed?” Pride asks carefully.

Truth tilts its head. You brought him here to save him, even though the toll was all your souls and power. Do you regret it?

“…no,” he admits, staring at his own hands. “This way Father doesn’t get a power-up, and Ed and Hughes and Mustang and all of them have a better chance of defeating him.”

And that’s the only reason?

(It’s the only reason he would ever admit to Greed or Ed, that was for sure, but—

He doesn’t especially like it, but he’s starting to figure out to his horror that this feelings thing may really be contagious.

Somehow, this is still all Greed’s fault.)

“I haven’t—I haven’t done many good things in my life, despite how long I’ve lived. And I already let Greed get killed and absorbed by Father once—I shouldn’t let it happen again. Hughes would be—disappointed in me if I did.”

Truth is silent, simply staring at him, and despite himself, Pride feels the words keep spilling out of his mouth. “And—out of all of us—Greed’s the one who came closest to being human. He should get a chance to live out his life—whatever remains of it anyway, he’s probably down to a single soul now.”

He will need his host to survive, Truth agrees. He won’t have any of his powers anymore, and he will no longer be immortal.

Pride shrugs. “What matters most is that he’s still alive, right?”

…at one point, you would not have said that.

(…that’s probably true.

But—

It’s not like Greed cares that much about his powers anyway.

He’ll just have to stop doing stupid things like jumping off of roofs straight onto his head.)

And you?  Truth asks, You are willing to give up your life in exchange for Greed’s, but are you willing to give up your powers without giving up your life?

(…he could do that?

Then wouldn’t he be practically a human after that—no immortality, no shadow powers, just the small and helpless child that he had always seemed.

But he would be alive—able to see Hughes, Gracia, and Elicia again.

They wouldn’t have to mourn him—Elicia would never have to cry, and he would be able to once again hug all of them and watch over Elicia as she grew older.

He may even be able to grow.

What are all his powers compared to that?)

“…yes,” he says finally, staring at Truth. “If it is possible—then do it.”

Truth smiles, its grin genuine for the first time as its voice rings, You answered correctly! You really did learn more than your progenitor—go then, take your prize, Greed will be waiting for you on the other side! Goodbye, Selim.

The gate opens, and as Pride slowly steps through, he sees his shadows all stay on the other side of the gate, the fanged eyes staring at him as he passes through.

(He doesn’t—entirely understand what is going on here.

To begin with—wasn’t he part of Father?

Could he exist without his souls if Father was ultimately sucked back in with the Truth like Ed and all of them were trying to accomplish?

But—

Greed had always claimed that they were their own people.

He guesses it’s time for them to find out if that is really true.)

--

His first reaction when he cracks open his eyes is that his entire body hurts.

His second reaction is that he’s not healing at all—he can distinctly feel all the cuts and bruises all over his body, and they don’t seem to be getting any better.

His third reaction is that when he reaches for his shadows—they’re not there anymore.

(Oh.

Oh shit.

Oh fuck—the Truth really did it.

But was Father dead yet, because if he wasn’t, Pride’s entire sacrifice is going to be moot, because they’re probably all dead anyway—)

"Selim?”

He manages to turn his aching body over slightly to realize that Hughes is holding him close and staring at him, tear tracks on his face.

“…is he dead?” Selim croaks out. “Father, I mean. Also—Greed.”

Hughes’ face splits into a broad smile as he hugs him close. “Greed is fine—he got spit out of the same portal you landed out of into Ling—Father is dead—Ed did something—and then the two of you appeared—neither of you were healing, so we were so worried—”

Hughes sobs and buries his scruffy face into Selim’s shoulder, and Selim lifts up a hand to examine the scrapes and blood and dust on it.

(So—

This is what it meant to be human.

…it’s going to take some getting used to.

But—

He thinks—

With Hughes and all of them—

It’ll be alright.)

Chapter Text

Three years later :

“I don’t see why we have to celebrate my birthday in Xing,” Selim grumbles, crossing his arms.

“It’ll be nice!” Hughes says encouragingly, patting him on the back. “After all, haven’t you enjoyed all the great places your mom and Elicia have taken us around here? And you’ll finally get to see Greed, Ling, Lan Fan, Ed, Al, Mei, and even maybe Envy again!”

(Envy is a bit of a long shot—understandably, the youngest of Selim’s homunculi siblings now very much dislikes both Selim and Greed.

To be precise, according to Ed, Envy had threatened to rip both of their faces off the next time they saw them.

Still—three whole years traveling with both Ed and Winry, going to far-off places to learn about other types of alchemy and automail—

That’s a long time and a lot of experiences—it could certainly make someone change.

Selim certainly has.

It’s been a long road—Selim had to learn that humans don’t automatically heal from things that easily, that digestion systems and teeth mean that you can’t just eat three bowls of ice cream in a row without consequences, that studying is a thing even with a three hundred year old memory, and that yes, sadly, puberty is an inescapable part of growing up, but—

Seeing Selim’s delight when he actually grew a couple of inches, his sheer happiness when celebrating another one of Elicia’s birthdays, and his embarrassment tinged with genuine pleasure when his new friends at school slap him on the back and cheer when he’s an invaluable part of their studies groups—

Hughes could cry.

He has cried, actually. Gracia is always indulgently handing him tissues while dabbing at her own eyes because she’s always prepared, and Roy always rolls his eyes and says he is as insufferable as always.)

Selim makes a face. “Gross, I definitely don’t want to see Envy.”

Elicia blinks up at Selim. “Is Envy your shape-shifting sibling?”

Selim crouches down so that they are at eye-level. “Yes, they are, and if they’re really there, you are not to trust a word they say. Understand, Elicia?”

Elicia giggles, hugging Selim. “Yes big brother! But Winry says that Envy isn’t all that bad—”

“Winry also thinks that automail is the perfect present for every occasion, and if she tries to gift me automail stilts again, I’m throwing them at Ed’s head,” Selim says darkly. “Envy is a terrible influence.”

“Well, at least Greed will be there too,” Gracia says diplomatically.

Selim screws his face up harder. “I don’t know what’s worse: having to read Greed’s gibberish scrawl masquerading as calligraphy or seeing him as emperor,” he says glumly.

“Since he’s emperor, maybe he can order more cake for us!” Elicia says excitedly.

“He could, but probably only in flavors he and Ling and Lan Fan like,” Selim says darkly. “Also remember, we can’t eat too much cake or else we’ll end up with more cavities and have to go see the dentist again.”

Elicia whimpers and covers her mouth despite the fact that so far she's been lucky to not have any cavities. That burden has fallen upon her older brother, who is baffling their dentist with how his perfect teeth have suddenly become decidedly non-perfect.

“Don’t scare your sister,” Hughes chides, reaching over to ruffle both of their perfect little heads.

“I’m just being realistic,” Selim says grimly. “Human teeth are a terrible, terrible thing, and dentists are to be feared.”

“He does have a point,” Gracia sighs, putting a hand against her cheek and looking at Hughes. “Do you remember that time you had a root canal?”

“Let’s not talk about that time,” Hughes says adamantly, shuddering, before drawing himself up to his full height as they approach the Imperial Palace. “Oh wow—now I’m thinking that we should have come with Roy’s official delegation.”

“I was the ambassador for a bit, darling, it’ll be alright,” Gracia pats his arm, resplendent in her gown.

Hughes perks up a bit as they follow the guards inside. “Indeed—and no one has ever been a better ambassador to Xing!”

“Elicia may give me a run for my money when she’s all grown up—she’s much more fluent in Xingese than I am,” Gracia says modestly. “Of course, all due to great efforts by her big brother to make sure she maintains her proficiency.”

“She already writes better than Greed,” Selim says smugly. “Although that’s not really the standard she’s striving for—monkeys dragging sticks through the dirt write better than Greed.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Lan Fan sighs, suddenly appearing right behind them. “I try to get Ling to take over when they have to write something, but Ling likes to slack off.”

“Also I just think it’s funny!” Ling calls out, bounding up in his trailing robes and big emperor hat with beads that clack as he moves. “All the ministers have to bow and scrape, and some of them even try to flatter me despite the fact that Greed’s handwriting would make my old calligraphy shifu turn in his grave.”

“I’m improving!” Greed insists, easily taking control of Ling’s body and glancing down at Selim. “Huh—still that short, huh?”

“I will soon be taller than Ed,” Selim says stiffly, narrowing his eyes at him.

Greed (or Ling, hard to tell at this point) snorts and says, “Like that’s supposed to be impressive. Oh—and this must be Elicia, right? Hey Nina—this is Elicia, I think you guys will be friends!”

Nina pads out from a different hallway, dressed in robes, her fluffy tail wagging behind her. “Oh! Hi! I’m Nina!”

“I’m Elicia!” Elicia eagerly pads forward, reaching out towards her tail. “Wow! Can I pet it?”

“Okay!” Nina agrees amiably, “Just please don’t pull on it!”

The two girls play for a bit while Greedling sighs in satisfaction. “I just knew they would be friends. It’s a bit lonely for Nina here—although she has picked up a lot of Xingese.”

“She does like her little servant girls though,” Martel comments, for some reason coming down from the ceiling. “I want to switch some of her tutors though, one of them is an asshole.”

“That court etiquette one, right?” Dolcetto asks, popping out from the same ceiling tile, although not as smoothly as Martel. “But we’ve already been through like three of them—are there really any non-asshole etiquette tutors?”

“I’ll try to find another one—and didn’t we agree to not swear in front of Nina?” Lan Fan asks with a frown.

Both Martel and Dolcetto shuffle in place awkwardly, Martel rubbing the back of her head while Dolcetto crouches down and says to Nina, “Forget we just said that, okay Nina?”

“Okay!” Nina beams at him.

“What’s an asshole?” Elicia asks curiously.

“An asshole is what poop comes out of, but is a word that mainly soldiers use,” Hughes quickly steps in as Gracia’s shoulders shake in laughter next to him.

Both Nina and Elicia seem to consider this for a moment while Selim just shakes his head. “Stop being a bad example for my sister, Greed,” he hisses.

Greed rolls his eyes. “Oh, like you don’t have a mouth on you—I’m pretty sure you’re worse. And I know I’ve heard Hughes curse before—”

“Not when there’s kids around!” Hughes quickly interjects as Gracia gives him a look. “I smack Roy when he does it too!”

“Not much of a point in any of us trying to be restrained though, with Ed wandering around,” Martel points out.

“Yeeeeah, well, at least Nina is good and knows not to copy Ed.” Greedling reaches up to adjust his hat as he turns to Nina. “Again, Nina baby, Ed is a mess, and you definitely shouldn’t try to emulate him.”

“That’s okay, I want to be like Martel or Lan Fan!” Nina says serenely.

Lan Fan’s expression just slightly changes while Martel clutches her chest. “She’s just killing me here.”

Elicia stares up at Greedling in fascination, reaching out a hand. “Can I wear your hat?”

“I don’t see why not!” Greedling beams at her, then takes his imperial hat off before Lan Fan can even protest and tucks it on Elicia’s head. “There you go—now you can order around any minister you please! Or your brother—you outrank him now!”

Elicia’s eyes grow big. “I can order people to make me cake ?” she breathes, her little hands patting the overly large hat on her head while she glances over at Nina, who nods happily.

“You can order them to make all the cakes you like!” Greedling says grandly.

Lan Fan lets out a light cough, and Greedling quickly amends, “Although—there are already a great number of cakes, so perhaps you should look at all of them first before making any decrees! If there are any types missing though, you’re welcome to march into the kitchens and order them to make another one!”

Elicia is practically vibrating out of her little body with this kind of power in her hands, and Selim just rolls his eyes and mouths at Greedling, “Whipped.”

“Like you can talk,” Greed immediately replies before his face shifts back into Ling’s genial expression.

“Also, language, Selim,” Hughes reminds him.

Selim scrunches his face up. “…I didn’t say anything bad out loud though.”

“Selim,” Gracia reminds gently, looking at him.

Selim instantly deflates, looks down, and mumbles, “Yes, Mom.”

(Although Selim technically is 313 years old, Hughes and Gracia have both agreed that he’s just started to really hit his teenage years.

Hughes personally thinks that Gracia is much better at dealing with Selim going through puberty than he is—but he’s also trying his best.

And Selim is too—the extent of his teenage rebellion so far has been dropping music classes in favor of art classes, adding more black to his wardrobe, and weekly rants on how much he wishes he had his homunculus brain back because his current teenage one isn’t holding history facts the way it used to.

He still utterly adores Elicia and will drop everything at a moment’s notice to go play with her, and even if he can’t make the shadow plays that he used to, he has gotten surprisingly good at building little wooden sets and figures that imitate what he used to do.

He really might be an architect one day—he’s enjoyed all the architecture books that Gracia has bought him.)

“Well—time for the birthday party! And the birthday boy also gets his own hat!”

Selim tries to knock Greed away to keep him from placing a party hat on him, but in the end, even with how much Selim has improved in P.E. over the past few years, Ling is a trained swordsman. “What even is—where did you even get this?”

“Ed,” Greedling replies easily, jerking a thumb back to where Ed is emerging from a corridor, waving and dragging an extremely gloomy Envy in tow.

“…I really should have devoured you when I had the chance,” Selim says mournfully. He's still trying to take the party hat off, but Greed is keeping a firm grip on it.

Envy bares their teeth and practically hisses at Selim while moving in front of Ed. “As if you could—just try it.”

“Oh, you’re here,” Selim says with distaste, finally managing to shove Greed’s hand away and throw the hat off. “Worst birthday party ever.”

“Why?” Elicia asks, tugging at the hem of Selim’s shirt, her eyes wide and watery with distress. “Is this not fun?”

Selim quickly picks Elicia up, managing to hoist her up somewhat high and make her giggle before having to put her down again. “Anything’s fun as long as it’s with you.”

Envy makes very loud and pointed retching sounds to the side, while Greed seems torn between rolling his eyes and whipping out the camera Hughes had sent him and trying to take pictures of Selim and Elicia.

(Hughes immediately makes a mental note to hit up Greed later for copies of any photos of his adorable children he might have.

It’s time to change out the family portrait in the house anyway—and there’s always the Christmas card compilation!

It doesn’t matter how much Roy complains that it’s less a card at this point and more of a book, obviously Hughes has to show off photos of his perfect family throughout the year.)

As Hughes takes out his camera to properly document their lovely family trip to Xing, Roy appears from one of the hallways and groans as soon as he sees him, turning to Riza beside him. “Wasn’t there some diplomatic stipulation against photography inside the Imperial palace?” he asks hopefully.

“Not if the Emperor permits it,” Riza replies, waving at the growing group around Greedling.

Ling immediately announces with a big grin, “All photography is of course permitted on this special day!”

“You are the worst ruler,” Roy announces before being drowned out by boos from the Elric faction.

Mei (much taller than she used to be! Although her little panda still looks tiny), who has arrived with Al and Winry, crosses her arms and nods solemnly though. “You have a valid point, but everyone else is so much worse. ”

Lan Fan flashes one of her throwing knives at the younger girl, but Mei just rolls her eyes, and Al quickly steps in before they can get any further with that. “It’s great to see all of you!” He beams at everyone assembled.

“You are definitely a sight for sore eyes,” Hughes remarks, striding forward and slapping him on the back. “Last time any of us saw you, you were close to resembling a skeleton!”

“And now, you look even healthier than your brother,” Gracia remarks, also taking them in. “Taller too now.”

Ed makes a face, but doesn’t pitch a fit like he used to (he really has matured so much!). “Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever, it’s all those dumb nutrients he absorbed from me while his body was stuck at the Gate.”

Al shakes his head. “If you had just drank more milk—”

“MILK IS DISGUSTING OKAY!”

(And of course, on the other hand, some things never changed.

Which was nice—some things should stay constant, even as time went by.)

Both Envy and Winry look distinctly unimpressed by Ed’s declaration.

“One day your kid is going to grow taller than you,” Envy says, examining their nails. “And it’s going to be because they have good sense and listened to Winry instead of you and drank their milk.”

Ed gives Envy a disgruntled look. “It’s not even like you like milk either!”

“Yeah, but I’ve got absolutely no problems in the height department,” Envy says before flashing a malicious smile at Selim. “Unlike some ex-homunculi I know…”

“At least I can grow at all instead of being stuck in the same form forever until I die,” Selim shoots back, glaring daggers at them.

Envy just preens, drawing their hair back. “This is the best form. Ed was so smart to figure out how to permanently reset me back to this one.”

“Waste of all that research if you ask me,” Greed shrugs, propping his elbow against Selim’s shoulder.

“Could have been better used on nearly anything else,” Selim agrees, knocking Greed’s elbow off of him. “Why didn’t you stop him, Winry?”

Winry shrugs. “You know, we like having Envy around, and they’re so much more useful as a person instead of a tiny thing in a jar.”

“Less portable and more drama, seems like the cons outweigh the pros,” Greed immediately argues, crossing his arms.

“And all that hair,” Selim says disdainfully, looking at Envy. “They’re human now, so they clog up drains.”

Envy just flips their hair back. “All of you are just jealous of me,” they say smugly.

“Besides, both of them have hair that clogs up drains,” Ed points out before both Winry and Envy glare at him.

“Oh, look, is that cake?” Hughes says loudly, clapping his hands together as someone rolls in a towering confection of whipped cream, fruit, and layers of spongy cake.

Elicia’s eyes grow so big that they look on the verge of popping out of her head, and she immediately tugs on the hem of Selim’s shirt and says in a loud whisper, “Selim! That cake is taller than me!”

“Yes,” Selim agrees.

“It’s taller than you! It’s taller than Ed!”

“Again, not that that’s saying much,” Greed points out.

“Maybe it’s taller than Mama and Papa and Aunt Riza and Uncle Roy!” Elicia continues on, grabbing Nina’s hand and then running over to pull at Hughes’ hand. “Let’s check! Let’s check!”

Of course, Hughes and Gracia have to oblige their baby girl and also urge Roy and Riza over to stand next to the cake as well. It turns out that it’s not actually taller than any of them, but when Greedling marches the birthday boy and Ed over, it really is taller than both of them.

“A big cake for a big boy!” Greed simpers at Selim as he pulls out the previous party hat from his voluminous sleeves and jams it on Selim’s head.

Selim immediately rips it off again, although not quite quickly enough that Hughes can’t take a photo (he has a lot of practice being ready to take cute family photos before Selim can realize that he’s got a camera in his hands), and gives Greed a poisonous glare. “I should have devoured you when I had the chance.”

“Sure, you say that, but look at how much Elicia is loving her hat,” Greed points out, having already stuck a party hat on top of his emperor’s crown on Elicia’s head.

Between the cake and the hat, Elicia looks as though she’s about to fall over from all the excitement, and she bounces around with Nina.

“This is the best birthday party, Selim,” she whispers loudly to her brother before looking over at Hughes. “Can I also have this big of a cake during my birthday too?”

“Of course sweetheart!” Hughes immediately says and makes a mental note to ask around Central and see what bakery can make such a large cake.

“And hopefully by next year, your Fuhrer finally lets me come over for a visit so we can also go to your birthday party!” Ling says, glancing over at Roy. “How about it?”

Roy shrugs. “I guess if you’re emperor, all former dine-and dash-charges are void.”

“Yes!” Ling cheers.

“You still owe me though,” Ed interjects, “I paid for so many of your meals.”

“And I helped save your country,” Ling points out.

“Uh, Father would have probably eventually come after Xing. And also, who got you that Philosopher’s Stone that made you emperor?”

“Greed,” both Ling, Lan Fan, Martel, and Dolcetto promptly reply.

Ed throws his hands up in frustration before turning around to look at Selim, who has somewhat begrudgingly leaned down to let Elicia put the party hat back on his head.

Greedling takes out more party hats from his sleeves (Hughes really has no idea how his sleeves are working), places one on Nina’s head, and then distributes them around the rest of everyone. Envy also attempts to run away, but both Winry and Ed hold them down and manage to get a party hat on their head.

“You don’t want to act like Pride, do you?” Winry asks, gesturing over to Selim.

Envy narrows their eyes. “I see what you’re doing here,” they warn, fiddling with the hat but not taking it off. “It’s a very cheap move.”

“I wonder where she learned that from.” Ed rolls his eyes before turning to Selim. “Happy birthday, you demonic brat.”

Selim simply smiles sunnily at Ed. “I’m about three hundred years older than you, and one day I’ll be taller than you.”

“Yeah, dream on brat.” Ed rolls his eyes. “I feel like eating souls should have stunted your growth.”

Selim shrugs. “Well, it’s not like I have any of them anymore. ”

“I am very sure though, that I will always be the tallest of all my siblings,” Greed says smugly, leaning an arm against Dolcetto’s shoulder.

Martel snorts. “You should really be thanking Ling and the Yao clan for that, I think.”

Lan Fan nods solemnly. “The Yao clan is known for their height. Unlike the Chang clan…”

Mei very slowly takes some of her throwing knives out of her sleeves, but Al pushes her hand back as he shakes his head. Mei sighs, puts the knives back, and says with a toss of her head that her panda also copies, “We make up for it in brilliance. ”

“Glad to hear it,” Ling grins at her. “When you have time, there are some court alkahestry experts who are dying to talk to you.”

“And we’re dying to talk to them too!” Ed barrels in, gesturing between himself and Al. “Hook us up, alright? I walked across an entire desert!”

“But I walked across an entire desert multiple times, ” Mei stresses, looking over at Ed.

“Alright, alright,” Greedling says, holding up his hands. “You both can see them at the same time, happy?”

“I’d like to talk to some of them too,” Roy muses, rubbing his chin.

Hughes coughs loudly and says, “I feel like before you do that though, you have to light the candles on the cake for the birthday boy!”

“ Dad ,” Selim hisses as Roy grins, and with a snap of his fingers, all the candles on the cake are lit.

Gracia claps her hands together happily as Elicia squeals in delight and leads Nina in jumping up and down. “Happy Birthday Selim! Now, everyone sing—”

“ Mom, ” Selim hisses slightly louder, but it’s too late as everyone begins singing. Hughes is really putting his lungs into it, but both Greed and Envy seem to be intent on drowning the other out and providing as much embarrassment to their eldest sibling as they can possibly muster with treacely notes.

“ Happy birthday to you dear Selim/Pride ~~~” the two of them crow in discordant voices. “ Happy birthday to you~~~~~”

“Make a wish, make a wish!” Elicia demands, tugging on Selim’s hand and pulling him towards the massive cake.

“Do you need a stool?” Greed simpers at him.

Selim glares at him, then looks back at Hughes, and Hughes immediately comes forward to lift him up so that he can blow out the candles properly.

(He’s not entirely sure what Selim is wishing for, but for himself—

He just wishes for both Elicia and Selim to grow up happy and healthy, free to be whoever they want to be, with everyone supporting them and cheering them on.

He hopes his children’s paths will be bright and smooth, and whenever they do encounter any hardships, that he and Gracia can be by their side to love and support and help them as much as possible.)

Selim blows out all of the candles in one big breath (impressive! Obviously all the P.E. had helped!), and everyone claps.

“What did you wish for?” Elicia asks, before quickly covering her mouth. “Don’t say it, then it won’t come true!”

“Okay,” Selim says agreeably, patting her on the head and then glancing over at Hughes and Gracia. “To be honest though—there’s not much more I need to wish for.”

Hughes practically dissolves into tears at that, sniffling into the handkerchief that Gracia immediately hands him with a fond smile, although she is also discreetly wiping at the corners of her eyes, although the others scoff a bit, with Roy shaking his head and sighing.

“You’re truly Maes’ son after all,” Roy comments grudgingly.

Greed nods and gestures to Lan Fan to bring out a box. “Which segues perfectly into my gift for my tiny big brother—throwing knives!”

“Ah, I think we’ll save those for later,” Gracia immediately steps in, taking the box away with a sweet smile. “A lovely gift though, thank you Greed and Ling.”

“I picked out the box!” Ling adds happily.

Selim glances at the box, then at Gracia. “I could—”

“Not until you have better hand-eye coordination,” Gracia says simply.

Selim turns to look at Hughes, his dark eyes wide (awwwwww—and throwing knives are very useful), and Hughes can’t help but turn to Gracia. “What if I—”

“He can’t automatically heal anymore,” Gracia reminds him.

(Gracia is right, as always.)

Hughes turns to Selim and shakes his head sadly. “Sorry Selim—but whenever you’re ready for them, I’ll teach you!”

“Can I learn too?” Elicia asks, tugging at Hughes’ pant leg.

“Of course!” Hughes says, sweeping her up into his arms before quickly adding after a glance from Gracia, “But not until your hand-eye coordination is up to par either!”

“It’s not too hard,” Mei shrugs. “I started learning when I was around Elicia’s age.”

“Yeah, kids can learn tons of things on their own,” Ed adds.

Both Hughes and Roy just stare at him as Envy cackles, Winry rolls her eyes, and Al sighs. Then Ed coughs and amends, “…okay, fine! So, none of us had good parental supervision, alright!”

“You’re welcome to our home anytime—all of you,” Gracia smiles around.

“Not Envy though,” Selim immediately adds, examining his nails.

Envy bristles. “Who would want to go to your house, you little fu—”

“ Who wants cake? ” Hughes asks loudly, and anything Envy says is immediately drowned out by Elicia and Nina both cheering.

And watching Selim carefully cut the cake with Gracia’s help and distribute out the slices, saving the biggest piece for Elicia (and smallest piece for Greed and no plate at all for Envy), and later, happily eating the cake himself while playing with Elicia and Nina and arguing with Greed, Ed, and Martel over how much history he can actually remember now that he’s mortal (“A lot more than any of you!” “But not enough to apparently pass your Amestrian history test—” “You shut up"), he feels Gracia slip her hand into his and rest her head against his shoulder.

“…I think he’s going to be alright,” she murmurs.

“I think so too,” he says back, squeezing her hand. “All thanks to the most wonderful mother.”

“And thanks to the best father,” she says, turning her head to smile at him.

(Most of the time, he thinks he’s still stumbling along—raising a former homunculus isn’t something any parenting guide covers after all.

But he thinks—

They’re managing, and at least right here and right now, Selim is thriving .

There will still be difficult and hard days ahead, but no matter what, they’re here for him.)