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Edward looked out of the jeep as it laboriously made its way back through the broken streets, the blonde sniper keeping the car under excellent control while Mustang sat next to her, looking back at him every so often. He thought that maybe, had they been wearing blue instead of khaki, he could have fooled himself that he was back in Amestris, riding in that car just before their plan to take out Bradley. But the way that the two would occasionally exchange small glances and subtle looks... he had a hunch that they were closer than the Amestrian Hawkeye and Mustang had ever been. The younger, more impertinent Ed might have asked them, but now, at the apparent age of thirty-seven, he was even older than these two, and happily leaned back in what little comfort he could take in the middle of this mess.

He had arrived on Earth more than twenty years ago, but still showed little sign of growing older than twenty-three: He had realised there was a time-lapse between the two worlds a while before, but even so, he hadn't expected the difference to extend to biological specifics as well, at least until the Hughes family had grown older and he had remained almost unchanged. What he was really scared of lay ahead of him: stories abounded of the brutality of the Soviet leader, many he had heard himself from the old tsarist emigres who babbled on late into the afternoon to one another in cafes around Berlin before the war had started.

The other thing that confused him was the fact that, apparently, he was an object of interest to a dictator. Could they know? Had the NKVD found out about the Thule Society's work? Would they question him about being a Shamballan? His mind was brought back to the present by the stench of rotting flesh as they passed the zoo, it's cages torn and shattered, the carcass of an elephant near the entrance. He shook his head, wondering how the hell this world could endure such mindless chaos.

**

Hughes stopped yelling. The soldier had been swept away... just another casualty of the war. He looked up at the others who had made it through.

"I'm sorry."

A low murmur of "You did what you could" went around the room as the soldiers slumped against the walls, evidently shaken. Hughes sighed and went over to Gracia.

"How are the others doing?"

"They're mostly doing well... Apart from a shortage of bread we should be fine for a few weeks."

He lightly kissed her on the cheek, avoiding the recently formed wrinkles. "Thanks... you know we could never have kept everyone for so long without you."

She smiled at him. "Elycia is back from the scavenging trip, she managed to scrounge some Soviet rations."

Hughes chuckled quietly. "She's such a stunner they don't have a choice." The smile slowly soured. "I'm just worried what will happen when it's not the vanguard she's asking for food. The stories from Prussia..."

Gracia cut him off with a slight glance. "She's your daughter, Maes. She's 18 and she can throw a knife better than most soldiers can fire a rifle. She'll be fine."

Maes nodded and looked at the new additions to the already disparate group of people they were hiding.

"Noah, do you think you can bandage his arm up?" He asked the Romany girl, knowing that her nursing experience could certainly help the gruffest of the soldiers.

"Yes... I'll go and get some gauze." She replied, carefully picking her way over to the medical stash, as Gracia made her way upstairs, looking at her husband.

"You did what you could."

He nodded back.

"It's the only thing we can do."

**

Even though they were amongst the trees of some kind of park, the sound of automatic weapons and explosions still echoed all around. Mustang shook his head, bad memories returning with the gunfire, its intensity, the dark clouds, smell of burning oil and sounds of destruction.

"It's so similar..."

Hawkeye had picked up on it too, and gave a subdued mumble for a reply, confronting her own daemons.

"Do you think this war was started for the same reasons?"

"I can't say, sir... But I would hope not."

He nodded, before standing still, staring at a concrete entrance.

"A shelter of some kind?"

"Looks like it... might be worth a try to escape any stray artillery."

She nodded, and drew her pistol, staring into the corridor beyond the entrance.

"Clear."

They made their way steadily inside, heading into the gloom of the concrete passage.

**

Winry turned back from the wall, having dried her tears and formed her fist tightly, forcing herself to accept that mourning would have to come later. She stood up resolutely, and walked to Hughes.

"Thank you... for everything."

Hughes gave her a sympathetic smile, patting her shoulder lightly.

"Don't worry about it... there are still some people like us trying to keep everyone alive." He chuckled to himself lightly, realising how ludicrous his next question must sound.
"You're not from around here, are you?"

Winry gave a sad smile, before simply replying "I don't know where here even is."

"Well... where do you come from then?"

"Amestris."

Hughes picked up two of the creaky cafe chairs from upstairs and laid them down for them both.
"Tell me about it." He lowered himself carefully onto the chair and gestured for her to do the same.

She looked confused, and raised an eyebrow. "S...sorry?"

"Tell me about your home there." He wondered what Ed would make of this confused girl, when he got back from searching for other civilians.

The girl began talking slowly about a small village in the countryside, named... Risembool? Or something like that, and describing a country that he had definitely heard of before: Ed's ramblings about Shamballa, the ones he had dismissed as hypothermia, or the same paranoia he had shown about Hitler during those long arguments in the late twenties. But now... Hughes had seen what had happened under the Fuhrer, and this girl's earnest discussion as she gathered pace gradually, talking more easily about her home, he could not help but believe Edward's story in some small way, especially after that building had appeared out of thin air earlier.

Ed would find her very interesting indeed, he decided.