Chapter Text
Wide golden eyes stare up at him.
Fear. Anger. Revulsion.
A perfect mirror to what he felt back in that house. What he and Hawkeye found there...
A transmutation circle and a whole lot of dried blood, soaked into the floorboards, but the stench of rot was so damn fresh.
But the alchemist - the child - in his grasp is surprisingly whole. Save for the the thousand yard stare he'd had moments before, the kind one would usually find at home on the battlefield, of course; that gave the boy and his crime away immediately.
(The only question is how. How did this child commit the greatest taboo of alchemy and walk away from it physically unscathed?)
"Excuse me."
A hand, stronger than one would expect, grabs his wrist, finally drawing his attention away from golden eyes to... one golden eye and one as black as ink. No, not black, not naturally; the longer he looks, the more he can make out the thin ring of gold that wraps around an overly dilated pupil.
"I'm sure you've got questions, but I'd appreciate it if you'd let go of my little brother," a man around Hawkeye's age says with a smile that's a little too polite to not be mocking. "Especially if you want to keep your hands."
Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Hawkeye already aiming her pistol at the interloper, her face it's usual neutral expression despite the tightness of her shoulders, meaning they're both thinking the same thing; they've walked in blind and now they're on the back foot.
After all, a one armed, one legged man on a crutch who can get this close without either of them noticing is not to be underestimated.
---
They say ignorance is bliss.
Perhaps there's a bit of Truth there.
Because the price for knowledge is steep, and it must be paid in full.