Fanfic Post - Nameless, Chapter 14
Jun. 23rd, 2011 12:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kristenskTitle: Nameless
Author: Kristen Sharpe
Final Checking: June 22, 2011
Rating: K+
Warnings: Just references to the last chapter's unpleasantness.
Genre/Continuity: AU (alternate/divergent universe) set in the first animeverse.
Disclaimer: “Fullmetal Alchemist” belongs to Hiromu Arakawa, Square ENIX, Studio BONES and various other parties.
Author’s Note: Thanks to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mintysage for the last minute check and letting me badger her while I dithered about details. Also, thanks to bay115 for the awesome banner this chapter.
Book 2: The Deconstruction of the Fullmetal Alchemist
Chapter 14: I’m Getting Out
July, 1884
The military’s provisional command center in the Ishval province was a swarm of activity. Men and munitions were pouring in via the recently constructed train line. The stone corridors that had, until recent months, housed Ishval’s local governmental offices now rang with a thunder of hurried personnel late into the evening.
One of the larger rooms had been made into the command center where General Hakuro was gathering his officers and poring over any information that came out of Liore. Currently, the discussion had shifted to the photographs recently taken from a surveillance balloon above the city.
Ignored, a small figure in blue sat in a chair against the far wall, a single photograph clenched in his shaking hands. The photograph that had gone equally ignored until he requested it in a choked voice he hadn’t even recognized as his own.
Now, his eyes could only trace the pattern etched dark in the sands around Liore.
Were they blind? Were they all as stupid as that idiot, Hakuro?
His eyes cut briefly to his so-called sponsor as the man strutted around the long conference table, glorying in his command. The man who “discovered” the Fullmetal Alchemist.
And, sponsoring a twelve year old Edward Elric in the State Alchemist exam was one of the only useful things Hakuro had ever done for the young alchemist. The other…
“I got the news that your brother had gone back home, Fullmetal. It really is for the best, you know.” Amazingly, a single look had silenced the man. Did he still look that awful? “ Anyway, I had any mention of him removed from your official records. It will be safer that way.”
Safer. Al was as safe as he could be. If you could call it that.
But, for once, Hakuro had meant well. He liked Al well enough. And, at least it would silence questions from the military.
One point to Hakuro.
Hakuro who was, currently, the bane of his existence.
Let him sit in on the planning and briefing sessions? A fine way for a young man to learn something of protocol and tactics. Let him contribute anything meaningful as the only alchemist present? No, this was a matter for adults, not children.
And, Hakuro, with his hypocritical concept of when Amestris’ youngest State Alchemist was and was not an adult had made certain everyone present saw him as nothing but a child. Dressed in a tiny replica of the Amestrian military uniform, Edward Elric felt like a doll. He knew he did not look “proper” or mature. He looked like what Hakuro meant him to be - a toy soldier to salute on demand and look suitably patriotic for the press releases.
Ed felt his teeth grind together as he stood from his chair. He was nearly sixteen and due for a growth spurt any day. Who were they calling a microscopic little boy who would never grow and was doomed to be their cute little mascot forever?
Slamming the photograph down on the table with enough force that the wood cracked under his automail helped calm his fury. A little.
“This photograph from the hot air balloon,” he began. Oh, good. They had noticed him. Finally. “It clearly shows a transmutation circle drawn around the entire city.” A circle he recognized far too well. The same circle had been etched into the floor at the Fifth Laboratory. He had seen it every night since, in nightmare after nightmare. “It might be a trap.”
It was a trap. Their trap. Those homunculi.
After a moment, Hakuro shook off the stupid, blank look that had overtaken his face at Ed’s outburst. “Fullmetal! Sit down. This briefing doesn’t concern you.”
“I’m the only State Alchemist present, and I’m telling you this is a transmutation circle,” Ed snapped, flashing his silver pocket watch at the assorted officers before tracing the circle on the photograph with his free hand. “Have another alchemist doublecheck it, but don’t ignore it!” His eyes narrowed. “People don’t draw things like this around their cities for fun!”
He could see concern filtering across several of the mens’ faces. Good. They weren’t all the sort of useless sheep Hakuro preferred.
The general himself was striding around the table. “Fullmetal, I told you you could attend this meeting on the condition that you remain silent!” Like a good little boy, except Hakuro should know by now that Ed would never be his definition of a good little boy. “Since you can’t obey the simplest—”
“Ah, what seems to be the trouble here?”
Hakuro froze, staring over Ed’s head. “I— F—Fuhrer, sir!” His entire body went rigid as he saluted so forcefully Ed wondered if he might hit himself in the head.
Slowly, Ed turned to face the Fuhrer himself, debating his options.
Fuhrer King Bradley stood in the doorway, wearing his usual pleasant smile. He was flanked by a bevy of aides and guards with an auburn-haired woman in a neat suit dress at his side. For a minute, Ed froze at the sight of her. With everything he had learned… And, she looked so much like—
“So, what is this?” The Fuhrer’s smile never wavered, but there was steel under his casual words.
Ed found his voice before Hakuro did.
“Sir,” he began, grabbing the photograph and holding it up, “I was just explaining that there’s a transmutation circle drawn around the entire city of Liore. I think it might be dangerous.”
“Sir,” Hakuro started, “it’s nothing more than a scare tactic. Fullmetal is only—”
Bradley held up a hand, and the graying general fell silent. At his nod, the photograph was passed into his hands. For several silent seconds, Bradley studied it gravely.
“Mmm, the Liorans might be mounting some sort of attack,” he said. “Something involving creating a wall perhaps? Do you recognize the purpose of this, Fullmetal?”
Knowing the question was coming didn’t make it any easier to answer. The Fuhrer had seemed reasonable, even understandably outraged after the incident at the Fifth Laboratory. But, even then Ed hadn’t revealed the true secret behind Marcoh’s notes. Only some hastily edited babble about human experiments and homunculi.
“I…” Risks and possibilities weighed against one another in his mind. “It reminds me of the alchemy used in that incident three months ago, Sir. The classified one.”
“Ah, yes.” Bradley nodded. He addressed the room at large. “In that case, invading the city may not be the best option. What are our estimates on their available supplies?”
As everyone’s attention swirled around the Fuhrer, Ed took a step toward the open door. They knew. Good. It made the Liorans look worse, but if the military would just stay out of the city, he could do something about that circle.
“Are you leaving?”
Startled, Ed looked up at the Fuhrer’s secretary, who had been standing quietly by the door. Even her voice was achingly familiar.
“I…” He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Just to the latrine. It’s been hours.”
“I see.” She stepped aside gracefully.
Eager to be far from the familiar stranger and his own growing suspicions, Ed started down the hallway.
“We wouldn’t want an accident like when you were four, after all.”
His entire body went rigid.
“The sheets had to be washed twice,” she continued. “All because your brother was scared and you refused to leave him alone even for a few minutes.” He imagined her green eyes were soft and kind as he felt her hand rest on his shoulder. “Where is your brother, Edward?”
So much like her. Even this smell was hers.
“I…”
“It’s alright,” she soothed. “You can tell me. I won’t be mad.”
She knew.
Ed tore himself out of her grip, feeling her hand disintegrate rather than fall away as he spun to face her. For an instant, he almost expected to see her as she had looked that night, twisted and half-formed. But, she was as prim as before. Except for her left hand, which rippled unnaturally before returning to normal.
“You’re…” he breathed. His left shoulder was wet where her hand had been. Breathing hard, he cut his eyes toward the conference room.
The woman just smiled.
Banner bybay115
Eyes wide, Ed turned and fled.
Astoundingly, Hakuro’s foolish outfit stood him in good stead when he reached the small motorpool in the courtyard.
“I need a car,” and a flash of his watch at a dozing pair of privates were all it took to acquire one of the desert-modified steam cars the military had commandeered. The endless minutes it took to remember what little he knew of cars and get the boiler to operating temperature were a blur. Then, he was rattling across the desert, fumbling to open the throttle even as he wrestled with the steering. With a full moon painting the desert sands white, he could just pick out the crude track that served as a trade route between Ishval and Liore.
He had to do something. Somehow, some way he had to destroy that circle around Liore or evacuate the citizens if he could. The homunculi would be there; his encounter with his sin embodied had insured that. They would be there, and they would try to stop him. He needed a plan. He needed to think.
But, he didn’t want to think now. After seeing her. And, fighting just to keep this wretched machine on the nearly invisible road was already taking most of his concentration.
So, maybe, for a few hours, he could lose himself in this smaller, simpler battle, alone on the white road winding endlessly into the night.
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Present
Muffled voices drifted over him. He let them slide past. There were always voices. These were somehow… different, but hushed and unthreatening. And, he was comfortable where he was.
“…and…. more questions.”
“Least…. ….’s over.”
A grunt. “For now.”
“…saw anything like it. …light show.”
These were not the usual voices. Except they were familiar. And, there was something about their words… Curiosity pulled him inexorably from the quiet darkness.
“…this guy did?”
“… weird alchemy. ….less we know, the better.”
“Yeah.”
Weird alchemy?
Slowly, other sensations filtered through his waking consciousness. A familiar, pungent smell filled his nose. Disinfectant spread thick over the lingering stench of body fluids. A hospital. He was in a hospital. Again.
Something nagged at him. This was bad. But, he couldn’t remember why. Aside from the fact he hated hospitals.
On that note, this was the hardest bed or gurney he had ever encountered. Hard and oddly lumpy. Clearly, this was a dump of a hospital. He should move before some quack came along and started shoving some medical torture device in places where it had no business being.
Experimentally, he twitched first one leg and then the other, being careful to make only the smallest of movements. His flesh leg moved with nothing more than a twinge of stiff muscles. The automail responded smoothly, tapping lightly against his right leg in the exact sequence he intended. Perfect. He slowly drew in a deep breath and let it out. There was no telltale twinge from his ribs.
Right then. He was good to go. Anything else would heal on its own or require an automail mechanic rather than a doctor.
Carefully, Edward Elric opened his eyes. He was greeted by the sight of a spartan waiting room. Simple wooden chairs lined the wall directly opposite him with a receptionist’s window to the right.
Well, that explained the “bed”. He was lying across five – a glance – fine, four wooden chairs. But, if he stretched out fully, it would take five, maybe six.
There was a low mutter to his left. Edward shifted his gaze, but could only catch sight of shoes. Two pairs of large, military issue boots.
Well, there went that escape plan.
For the moment.
He let his eyes drift closed and instead tried to remember what had sent him to the hospital this time. Or maybe it was someone else who had been sent to the hospital. It happened. Rogue alchemists and most revolutionaries were usually downright unreasonable about being arrested. Which was why it was their own fault they sometimes came out a little worse for wear.
So, what had it been this time?
Snow stained crimson. A smiling man with square glasses. A hulking man in blue with his face slack in a terrible, empty-eyed grin.
Edward felt cold all over.
“It was not your fault.”
A voice. One of the voices. Speaking to him by name.
“Ah, I see the full blending has confused you.” The voice was soft and gentle. “It’s alright. We will not hurt you. We never meant to hurt you.”
Not hurt him! They had—
Done as he asked. Helped him keep his secrets. Hidden him away from the pain and the constant, inexorable prying into all that he was.
His racing heartbeat slowed.
The voices were allies. And, this one, this calm, deep voice was oddly familiar. It had been with him for some time, yes, but there was something more. Something that whispered of long ago. Of a place long gone. Of musty books and a thick, cloying scent.
“Who are you?”
The answer fluttered just out of his reach.
“I…,” the voice hesitated. “In life, I was known as Van Hohenheim.”
Darius leaned back in his seat, prepared to put Fullmetal’s sudden freakish abilities out of his mind. As he had said before, the less he knew about that stuff, the better. It had saved his neck, so he really didn’t care how the crazy old man had done it.
And, fortunately, said crazy old man didn’t seem to have any injuries. When they arrived, a harried-looking doctor had given Fullmetal only a quick examination before telling them to wait and hurrying away with the lieutenant colonel’s gurney. They had had to catch a passing nurse to get any answers. From her, they learned that the night staff was stretched to their limits caring for soldiers injured in an armory explosion a few blocks from the barracks.
The explosion they had heard just before Scar’s attack. Probably a deliberate distraction.
Darius’ frown deepened. He glanced toward Fullmetal’s slight form sprawled over the chairs to his right. The alchemist had passed out as soon as Scar disappeared and been dead to the world ever since. Maybe he had worn himself out with all that alchemy stuff.
Fullmetal twitched.
Or not. It looked like he might finally be waking up.
The thought had barely crossed his mind before Fullmetal was abruptly standing up on his makeshift bed, screaming obscenities at the far wall.
“What are you doing here?” he roared.
Darius was fervently glad the insane alchemist wasn’t looking at him. Of course, the fact that he wasn’t looking at anyone was a little worrying.
“You weren’t there, so you couldn’t have—” Fullmetal went on. “Why—? How—?”
“We could shoot him,” Heinkel murmured, finally recovering from his own shock.
“You first,” said Darius.
Because guns had worked so well on that Scar guy.
Abruptly, Fullmetal swung toward them, and it was all Darius could do not to cringe. But, the alchemist only stared at him in confusion and then sudden embarrassment.
“I— That was— Oh.” He sat down quickly.
Darius took a minute to make sure the gray-haired alchemist wasn’t going to lunge at him.
“You okay, Elric?”
“Oh. Fine.” The alchemist treated him to a horrible parody of a smile that stretched his wrinkled face in ways a face should not stretch. “I’m fine. Great.” He bounced to his feet. “Slept great, all ready to go.” He turned himself around a minute, searching. Then, finding it, strode toward the door. “See ya’!”
Darius glanced at Heinkel. The blond man’s dour expression was answer enough.
Yeah, he wasn’t up to seeing how many times he could cheat death in one night either.
The room was bigger than Edward had first thought with rows of chairs behind the one he had claimed and morning sunlight bursting through a long bank of windows. A larger hospital then. But, he had eyes only for the nearest exit, a pair of solid double doors that would take him out of here and to some lonely place where he could figure out why his long vanished, very unlamented father was living in his head. He knew why the other voices were in his head. Mostly. It was fuzzy, and he couldn’t bring himself to tease the tendrils of crimson memory out of the fog in his mind. But, they should be there, as they had been for years. When had his father invaded?
Maybe he really was going crazy.
“You are not crazy, Edward,” his father’s voice assured him. “I… arranged for this some years ago, shortly after you were released from the hospital.”
“Real crazy voices always tell you you’re not crazy,” Edward retorted.
But, there was something to his father’s words. A sunny day with a cloudless sky and a tall man grabbing him in the street. A stream of nonsensical apologies babbled in his ear and a flash of light. Dead weight staggering him and a confused sense of horror.
“I am sorry, Edward.”
Edward growled and shook his head as though he could also shake away the memory. This wasn’t the time for old memories. He needed to focus on more recent events. Reaching the door, he pushed his way out into the hallway beyond. His mind was worlds away, re-tracing the last events he remembered.
General Grand had died. And then…
The realization stopped him in his tracks.
Grand was dead. Grand was dead, and he was… free.
He was free. There was no one left who knew, who remembered. He could go anywhere, do anything. He could finally—
“Al.” The name slipped through his lips in a whisper.
Suddenly filled with a purpose, Edward started walking again. He needed a plan. There had to be a way to design a transmutation circle that would destroy itself after use. And then… He needed someone to— Hughes. For a minute, he tried to remember the address of the Hughes’ home. It was useless; he had only visited it once after dark. No matter. He could make a quick trip to the military records department. Hughes owed him now; the least he could do was to get his little brother a train home. Assuming home was still there. How long had it been? Was Auntie even still alive?
He was going to have to do some research. There was so much he didn’t know, had missed while stumbling along in a fog. But, that was okay. He had time. He just had to be quick and discreet.
He wished he could see Al’s face. Just one more time. Perhaps the Gate would allow him that much when he made the exchange.
“Edward…”
“It’s how it has to be, old man,” Edward growled in his mind. “I should have known there was no other way back then.”
He clenched his steel fist and tried not to wonder if his brother would suffer for his missing parts. Maybe he could find a solution for that as well. His automail wasn’t flesh, but it was mass. There was an equation in his notebook where—
Ten feet from the main entrance, the alchemist’s wild thoughts ground to a halt.
His notebook. Grand had his notebook.
Edward snarled a curse.
He wasn’t free yet. Not until every scrap of those notes was destroyed.
So, where—?
Of course. Grand was too paranoid to have kept the original notebook anywhere but on his person. Now, he was dead. And, this was probably the closest hospital to the fracas.
For once, luck was on his side.
Edward whirled around and headed back down the hall, searching for a stairwell. The morgue would be in the basement. He just had to find it, find Grand, swallow his revulsion and… Well, maybe they had removed his effects by now.
A few hurried paces at last brought him to a simple stairwell door. He reached for the knob, and nearly fell as it pulled away under his hand.
“Ah, going somewhere, Mr.Elric?”
Startled, Edward looked up to find an unfamiliar uniformed man on the other side of the door. He had a pale face and paler blue eyes set above a knife-sharp nose.
“Or should I say, Fullmetal Alchemist?” the man asked.
Edward took a step back involuntarily.
“Major Frank Archer with Investigations,” the man introduced himself, stepping free of the doorway. “I believe you encountered the elusive State Alchemist murderer earlier tonight?” He smiled thinly and looked Edward up and down. “And, escaped uninjured? Excellent. I’m going to have to request you come with me to answer some questions.”
No! He had to—
Major.
“I’m sorry, Major,” it was always fun to stress rank when he knew people were letting his age make them forget his own standing, “but I have some business to attend to.”
Like looting corpses. But, it was his own property he was “looting,” so it didn’t really count.
“Ah,” Archer tilted his head slightly in thought. “Were you going down to examine Scar’s handiwork firsthand? The opinion of a State Alchemist is, of course, always valuable in such matters.”
Edward tried not to smirk. He really did.
That was right – State Alchemist. With a rank equal to that of a major.
“Or perhaps,” Archer continued, one hand reaching into his jacket, “you were looking for this?”
A black notebook was suddenly dangling just inches from Edward’s face, close enough that he could see every crack in the aging leather cover. Then, it was gone. Before Edward could even think to reach for it, it had disappeared back into Archer’s uniform.
“Now then,” said Archer, “shall we talk?”
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“There’s no need to stare like that,” Hughes scolded from his hospital bed. “I know you can’t make a gown look so dashing, but this jealousy is very unbecoming.”
Frozen in the doorway, Mustang finally found his voice. “What happened?”
When Fuery had called him to relay the news that the military communications lines were buzzing with reports of Scar attacking, Brigadier General Grand dead and one Lieutenant Colonel Hughes among the injured, he had expected the worst. But, Hughes was awake, alert and surrounded by a minimum of medical equipment. The only hint of injury was a bandage wound around his head.
“Kimblee happened,” Hughes answered, his face darkening briefly. “But,” his smile returned, “either he’s gotten sloppy, or I’m a medical miracle! They’re mostly keeping me for observation. And, look!” He grabbed a half-covered, empty plate from the rolling cart by his bed. “Gracia brought me some more quiche. And, when she gets back from dropping my sweet Elicia off with Mrs. Harris, she might bring pie!”
It took an effort of will not to slam the door behind him as he stalked to the end of Hughes’ bed. “What did he do?” Mustang wouldn’t be deterred by Hughes’ over large smile, his flippancy, or his quiche.
“He said he did some rather unpleasant things with my body chemistry—”
“Bombs,” said Mustang flatly. “He transmutes people into bombs.”
“Yes, well, he must be slipping.” Hughes shrugged. “Despite it feeling like I was going to explode from the inside out and my looking like a bloody mess, the doctors can’t find anything wrong with me. Just this knock on the head.” He fingered the bandage around his temple. “And, that happened when he blew up the side of a building.”
“Have they had an alchemist—?”
“They’ve had five alchemists in here eyeballing me.”
Finally, Mustang started to relax. “How did Kimblee fit into this?”
Hughes looked confused. “He ambushed me in the street. I was trying to meet up with you near the barracks.” He paused. “Oh! You forgot a page.” He pointed toward the room’s single chair, which was draped with a messy blue bundle. “It’s in my uniform.”
“Kimblee?” Someone had to stay on topic.
“Right, right.” Hughes waved his hands in a placating gesture. “According to Kimblee, he was skulking around the barracks for another chance at Elric. I just made a good substitute.”
“What about Grand and Scar?” Mustang was frowning now.
“Scar was there?” Something in Hughes’ face sharpened.
“At the barracks, yes.” Shoving Hughes’ bloody uniform off the chair with a grimace, Mustang dropped into the wooden seat. “He fought and killed General Grand.”
“Old man Grand too?” Hughes whistled softly. His face sobered. “You need to be careful, Roy.”
“As if you have room to talk.”
“So,” Hughes shifted topics, “what about your project?”
“Over, I suppose,” said Mustang. “Grand’s dead, and I’m not aware of anyone he was collaborating with.”
Hughes thought this over for a moment. “So, what about your project?”
For the first time, Mustang allowed the hint of a smile to cross his lips. As always, Hughes knew him far too well.
“Well, Kimblee is still on the loose and pursuing Elric for some unknown employer,” he said. “It would be remiss of me to ignore the matter.”
“And, the curiosity will eat you alive if you drop it.” Hughes was smirking.
Mustang matched him with a smirk of his own. One that grew teeth as there was a knock on the door.
“Maybe that’s the nurse, here to subject you to cold instruments and enforce the doctor’s dietary restrictions,” he said. “Which means no more of the quiche you were holding out on me.”
“Monster,” Hughes muttered before calling more loudly. “Come in!”
Both men stiffened as Major Archer stepped into the room.
“Lieutenant Colonel Hughes,” he greeted, pausing to nod toward Mustang as well. “Colonel Mustang.” He turned his attention back to Hughes. “I heard about your injuries, Lieutenant Colonel. Sustained during Scar’s attack, I take it?”
“No, I was attacked by Solf J. Kimblee, the former Crimson Alchemist.” Hughes’ face was all business now. “Inform the task force assigned to bring him in. He caught me a block from the scene of Scar’s attack and claimed his original target was the Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward Elric. This is the second time he’s attempted to either capture or kill Elric.”
Archer inclined his head. “I’ll be sure to inform them. Now, as to the Scar case…”
“I’ll contact my team,” said Hughes. “The doctors intend to release me by tomorrow at the latest. My men can start collecting statements and evidence in the meantime.”
“There’s no need,” said Archer smoothly. “Considering your injuries, I’ve been assigned to the case for the time being.”
“What?”
“It was believed you were quite heavily injured, Lieutenant Colonel.” Archer frowned in feigned concern. “Knowing you were attacked by Kimblee - and given his reputation - perhaps you should stay for further observation? It was my understanding that he had developed a means to transmute living bodies into time bombs as well.”
Hughes’ knuckles were as white as the sheets they gripped. “I’ve already been examined by five alchemists who specialize in biological transmutation.”
“Excellent.” Archer smiled. “You should have nothing to worry about in that case. But, it’s always wise to take precautions.” He turned. “I’ll see to it that the investigation is conducted properly until your return, Lieutenant Colonel.”
He opened the door, and the other men were surprised to see a familiar gray-haired man standing behind it. Surprise flashed across Archer’s face as well. Then, it was swallowed by a mask of careful calm.
“Ah, Fullmetal,” he said, smiling once more. “Come along. I still need your statement on the incident.”
Fullmetal scowled but stepped back to let Archer through. As the taller man moved past, Fullmetal peered into the room. His yellow eyes swept over Hughes appraisingly before flicking to meet Mustang’s curious gaze. Locking eyes with the colonel, he jabbed a hand in the direction Archer had taken and mouthed a single word. Then, he was gone.
There was silence for a moment as Mustang carefully shut the door. Once it was secured, Hughes opened his mouth.
“Not that I don’t agree with Elric’s assessment of Archer, but what was that about?”
Frowning, Mustang stared at the door. After a moment, his face cleared and he turned to face Hughes.
“And, what were you doing around the barracks at that time of night?” he asked, pointing at his friend.
“Huh?” Hughes’ face was a textbook image of confusion.
“That’s what Archer should have asked,” said Mustang. “Or rather, what he should want to know. But, he doesn’t. All he wants is your investigation.”
Hughes huffed. “Archer’s obsessed with advancement and recognition,” he said. “He probably thinks he can solve this one and finally get the brass’s attention.”
“Maybe,” said Mustang. “It’s interesting to me, however, how quickly he’s collected Elric.” He crossed the room and pulled Hughes’ uniform from the floor.
“Okay, seriously, Roy, what is this guy—?”
“Not here,” said Mustang. Retrieving the folded page of Fullmetal’s file, he tucked it into his own jacket and then folded the bloodied uniform back on the chair. “And, don’t go prying into it.”
“Me? Pry?” Hughes grinned.
Mustang scowled back. “I’m serious, Hughes.” Taking a step toward the bed, he lowered his voice. “Maes, listen to me. I’m not sure all this was a coincidence. And, you’ve got Gracia and Elicia to think of. You should take a vacation.”
“Roy?” Hughes hesitated, then dropped his own voice. “You think it’s that bad.”
“I think,” said Mustang, “that I’d rather deal with ten of Brigadier General Grand than a man who would set Kimblee loose just to further his ambitions.” His last words were a vicious whisper.
Hughes stared at him for several long seconds. Slowly, his face hardened.
“This is bad, Roy.” He paused, considered. “Look, I’ll send my girls to Gracia’s cousin. He lives south of here and—”
“You too,” said Mustang sharply.
“I’m not leaving you alone with this!”
The two men glared at one another.
“I promised to help you,” said Hughes. He slashed a hand through the air. “I knew the risks.”
Mustang smiled suddenly. “But, you will be helping me.”
“I—What?”
Mustang’s smile never wavered. “The south, you said?” His voice was a purr. “I happen to need someone to visit a little place in the south. It’s called Dublith.”
Ten minutes later, Mustang slipped out of Hughes’ room on a mission. He was operating on nothing more than a hunch, but he had rarely been so certain. Archer had met with one of the guards Grand had assigned at the library. Only days later, Kimblee had made his first attempt at kidnapping Elric. Then, all in one night, Archer had been handed legitimate access to Elric and no Grand to interfere. Of course, Scar killing Grand was likely no more than a fortunate coincidence. But, Archer had moved quickly to capitalize on it.
Then, there was Elric’s behavior. Only once before had he looked at Mustang so intently. In that instant of calm after his seizure. When he had left his “message” for Grand. Mouthing the same epithet he had now bestowed upon Archer.
“He might not remember that,” Mustang reminded himself.
But, his gut instinct said otherwise. Those yellow eyes had been clearer than he had ever seen them.
Debating his next course of action, Mustang headed for the main hallway and exit. As he rounded a corner, he paused at the sight of Elric’s bodyguards standing uncertainly in the hall, looking first one way and then another.
“…can’t have gone far,” Darius was saying.
“Sure we even want to find him?” Heinkel asked.
Mustang immediately moved to meet them. “Are you looking for Elric?”
Both men spun around before visibly relaxing at the sight of him.
“Sir.” Heinkel’s salute was perfunctory at best. “That’s right. Elric… stepped out of the waiting room and never came back.”
“I saw him with Major Archer from Investigations,” said Mustang, wondering why they had allowed the diminutive alchemist to go anywhere, even to the bathroom, alone. The man had barely been able to walk straight less than twenty-four hours ago. “I suspect the major has commandeered Elric for questioning about Scar’s attack.”
The burly pair frowned. Mustang could almost feel the obvious question in both their minds. What now?
“Could you tell me what happened?” he asked, hoping to get some answers before they decided to either be done with it all and wait for new orders or hunt down Archer and Elric.
“What didn’t happen?” muttered Heinkel after a moment.
“Yeah, to tell you the truth, I’m not sure what happened,” said Darius. “First, Elric got out of his room.”
“Through the window,” added Heinkel.
“Yeah,” Darius agreed, “through the window.” He frowned. “From the second floor.” He shook his head quickly. “We found him out in the snow looking after Lieutenant Colonel Hughes.”
Mustang stiffened. “Lieutenant Colonel Hughes?”
Both men nodded.
“No idea what happened to him,” said Heinkel. “He was covered in blood, and Elric was yelling at us to call a doctor. By the time we did that and got out there, someone had called the General too.”
“Blood? From his head wound?” asked Mustang.
“Head wound?” Heinkel frowned. “I guess he might have had one. His whole face was bloody. Looked like he’d been coughing it up.”
Mustang felt cold. Coughing up blood was certainly more the sort of injury he expected from an attack by Kimblee. But, no doctor alive could have missed something that obvious.
“Then, Scar showed up and attacked the General. So, we tried to get the Lieutenant Colonel and Elric out of there,” Darius continued. “Only, when he saw the General about to get hit by Scar, Elric just…” He looked toward his partner, who shrugged hopelessly. “It was some kind of alchemy,” Darius said at last. “I couldn’t tell you what. He made a wall between them. It wasn’t his fault that Scar guy went through it like wet cardboard.”
Mustang took a deep breath. Elric was the one to find Hughes. Elric, whose file noted again and again his uncanny ability to perform alchemy by merely clapping his hands.
“Gentlemen,” he started, “I realize you’ll probably be questioned again, but could you tell me exactly what happened out there tonight?”
----------------------------------------------------
I'm still a little uncertain about this chapter, and I'm not sure why. Maybe just because I made a few late in the game changes. At any rate, now everyone knows who the chatty voice is. And, you might notice the dropping of a few more hints as regards Al.
Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12-A 12-B 13 14 15 16 17-A 17-B
Author: Kristen Sharpe
Final Checking: June 22, 2011
Rating: K+
Warnings: Just references to the last chapter's unpleasantness.
Genre/Continuity: AU (alternate/divergent universe) set in the first animeverse.
Disclaimer: “Fullmetal Alchemist” belongs to Hiromu Arakawa, Square ENIX, Studio BONES and various other parties.
Author’s Note: Thanks to
mintysage for the last minute check and letting me badger her while I dithered about details. Also, thanks to bay115 for the awesome banner this chapter.Book 2: The Deconstruction of the Fullmetal Alchemist
Chapter 14: I’m Getting Out
July, 1884
The military’s provisional command center in the Ishval province was a swarm of activity. Men and munitions were pouring in via the recently constructed train line. The stone corridors that had, until recent months, housed Ishval’s local governmental offices now rang with a thunder of hurried personnel late into the evening.
One of the larger rooms had been made into the command center where General Hakuro was gathering his officers and poring over any information that came out of Liore. Currently, the discussion had shifted to the photographs recently taken from a surveillance balloon above the city.
Ignored, a small figure in blue sat in a chair against the far wall, a single photograph clenched in his shaking hands. The photograph that had gone equally ignored until he requested it in a choked voice he hadn’t even recognized as his own.
Now, his eyes could only trace the pattern etched dark in the sands around Liore.
Were they blind? Were they all as stupid as that idiot, Hakuro?
His eyes cut briefly to his so-called sponsor as the man strutted around the long conference table, glorying in his command. The man who “discovered” the Fullmetal Alchemist.
And, sponsoring a twelve year old Edward Elric in the State Alchemist exam was one of the only useful things Hakuro had ever done for the young alchemist. The other…
“I got the news that your brother had gone back home, Fullmetal. It really is for the best, you know.” Amazingly, a single look had silenced the man. Did he still look that awful? “ Anyway, I had any mention of him removed from your official records. It will be safer that way.”
Safer. Al was as safe as he could be. If you could call it that.
But, for once, Hakuro had meant well. He liked Al well enough. And, at least it would silence questions from the military.
One point to Hakuro.
Hakuro who was, currently, the bane of his existence.
Let him sit in on the planning and briefing sessions? A fine way for a young man to learn something of protocol and tactics. Let him contribute anything meaningful as the only alchemist present? No, this was a matter for adults, not children.
And, Hakuro, with his hypocritical concept of when Amestris’ youngest State Alchemist was and was not an adult had made certain everyone present saw him as nothing but a child. Dressed in a tiny replica of the Amestrian military uniform, Edward Elric felt like a doll. He knew he did not look “proper” or mature. He looked like what Hakuro meant him to be - a toy soldier to salute on demand and look suitably patriotic for the press releases.
Ed felt his teeth grind together as he stood from his chair. He was nearly sixteen and due for a growth spurt any day. Who were they calling a microscopic little boy who would never grow and was doomed to be their cute little mascot forever?
Slamming the photograph down on the table with enough force that the wood cracked under his automail helped calm his fury. A little.
“This photograph from the hot air balloon,” he began. Oh, good. They had noticed him. Finally. “It clearly shows a transmutation circle drawn around the entire city.” A circle he recognized far too well. The same circle had been etched into the floor at the Fifth Laboratory. He had seen it every night since, in nightmare after nightmare. “It might be a trap.”
It was a trap. Their trap. Those homunculi.
After a moment, Hakuro shook off the stupid, blank look that had overtaken his face at Ed’s outburst. “Fullmetal! Sit down. This briefing doesn’t concern you.”
“I’m the only State Alchemist present, and I’m telling you this is a transmutation circle,” Ed snapped, flashing his silver pocket watch at the assorted officers before tracing the circle on the photograph with his free hand. “Have another alchemist doublecheck it, but don’t ignore it!” His eyes narrowed. “People don’t draw things like this around their cities for fun!”
He could see concern filtering across several of the mens’ faces. Good. They weren’t all the sort of useless sheep Hakuro preferred.
The general himself was striding around the table. “Fullmetal, I told you you could attend this meeting on the condition that you remain silent!” Like a good little boy, except Hakuro should know by now that Ed would never be his definition of a good little boy. “Since you can’t obey the simplest—”
“Ah, what seems to be the trouble here?”
Hakuro froze, staring over Ed’s head. “I— F—Fuhrer, sir!” His entire body went rigid as he saluted so forcefully Ed wondered if he might hit himself in the head.
Slowly, Ed turned to face the Fuhrer himself, debating his options.
Fuhrer King Bradley stood in the doorway, wearing his usual pleasant smile. He was flanked by a bevy of aides and guards with an auburn-haired woman in a neat suit dress at his side. For a minute, Ed froze at the sight of her. With everything he had learned… And, she looked so much like—
“So, what is this?” The Fuhrer’s smile never wavered, but there was steel under his casual words.
Ed found his voice before Hakuro did.
“Sir,” he began, grabbing the photograph and holding it up, “I was just explaining that there’s a transmutation circle drawn around the entire city of Liore. I think it might be dangerous.”
“Sir,” Hakuro started, “it’s nothing more than a scare tactic. Fullmetal is only—”
Bradley held up a hand, and the graying general fell silent. At his nod, the photograph was passed into his hands. For several silent seconds, Bradley studied it gravely.
“Mmm, the Liorans might be mounting some sort of attack,” he said. “Something involving creating a wall perhaps? Do you recognize the purpose of this, Fullmetal?”
Knowing the question was coming didn’t make it any easier to answer. The Fuhrer had seemed reasonable, even understandably outraged after the incident at the Fifth Laboratory. But, even then Ed hadn’t revealed the true secret behind Marcoh’s notes. Only some hastily edited babble about human experiments and homunculi.
“I…” Risks and possibilities weighed against one another in his mind. “It reminds me of the alchemy used in that incident three months ago, Sir. The classified one.”
“Ah, yes.” Bradley nodded. He addressed the room at large. “In that case, invading the city may not be the best option. What are our estimates on their available supplies?”
As everyone’s attention swirled around the Fuhrer, Ed took a step toward the open door. They knew. Good. It made the Liorans look worse, but if the military would just stay out of the city, he could do something about that circle.
“Are you leaving?”
Startled, Ed looked up at the Fuhrer’s secretary, who had been standing quietly by the door. Even her voice was achingly familiar.
“I…” He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Just to the latrine. It’s been hours.”
“I see.” She stepped aside gracefully.
Eager to be far from the familiar stranger and his own growing suspicions, Ed started down the hallway.
“We wouldn’t want an accident like when you were four, after all.”
His entire body went rigid.
“The sheets had to be washed twice,” she continued. “All because your brother was scared and you refused to leave him alone even for a few minutes.” He imagined her green eyes were soft and kind as he felt her hand rest on his shoulder. “Where is your brother, Edward?”
So much like her. Even this smell was hers.
“I…”
“It’s alright,” she soothed. “You can tell me. I won’t be mad.”
She knew.
Ed tore himself out of her grip, feeling her hand disintegrate rather than fall away as he spun to face her. For an instant, he almost expected to see her as she had looked that night, twisted and half-formed. But, she was as prim as before. Except for her left hand, which rippled unnaturally before returning to normal.
“You’re…” he breathed. His left shoulder was wet where her hand had been. Breathing hard, he cut his eyes toward the conference room.
The woman just smiled.
Banner by
bay115 Eyes wide, Ed turned and fled.
Astoundingly, Hakuro’s foolish outfit stood him in good stead when he reached the small motorpool in the courtyard.
“I need a car,” and a flash of his watch at a dozing pair of privates were all it took to acquire one of the desert-modified steam cars the military had commandeered. The endless minutes it took to remember what little he knew of cars and get the boiler to operating temperature were a blur. Then, he was rattling across the desert, fumbling to open the throttle even as he wrestled with the steering. With a full moon painting the desert sands white, he could just pick out the crude track that served as a trade route between Ishval and Liore.
He had to do something. Somehow, some way he had to destroy that circle around Liore or evacuate the citizens if he could. The homunculi would be there; his encounter with his sin embodied had insured that. They would be there, and they would try to stop him. He needed a plan. He needed to think.
But, he didn’t want to think now. After seeing her. And, fighting just to keep this wretched machine on the nearly invisible road was already taking most of his concentration.
So, maybe, for a few hours, he could lose himself in this smaller, simpler battle, alone on the white road winding endlessly into the night.
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Present
Muffled voices drifted over him. He let them slide past. There were always voices. These were somehow… different, but hushed and unthreatening. And, he was comfortable where he was.
“…and…. more questions.”
“Least…. ….’s over.”
A grunt. “For now.”
“…saw anything like it. …light show.”
These were not the usual voices. Except they were familiar. And, there was something about their words… Curiosity pulled him inexorably from the quiet darkness.
“…this guy did?”
“… weird alchemy. ….less we know, the better.”
“Yeah.”
Weird alchemy?
Slowly, other sensations filtered through his waking consciousness. A familiar, pungent smell filled his nose. Disinfectant spread thick over the lingering stench of body fluids. A hospital. He was in a hospital. Again.
Something nagged at him. This was bad. But, he couldn’t remember why. Aside from the fact he hated hospitals.
On that note, this was the hardest bed or gurney he had ever encountered. Hard and oddly lumpy. Clearly, this was a dump of a hospital. He should move before some quack came along and started shoving some medical torture device in places where it had no business being.
Experimentally, he twitched first one leg and then the other, being careful to make only the smallest of movements. His flesh leg moved with nothing more than a twinge of stiff muscles. The automail responded smoothly, tapping lightly against his right leg in the exact sequence he intended. Perfect. He slowly drew in a deep breath and let it out. There was no telltale twinge from his ribs.
Right then. He was good to go. Anything else would heal on its own or require an automail mechanic rather than a doctor.
Carefully, Edward Elric opened his eyes. He was greeted by the sight of a spartan waiting room. Simple wooden chairs lined the wall directly opposite him with a receptionist’s window to the right.
Well, that explained the “bed”. He was lying across five – a glance – fine, four wooden chairs. But, if he stretched out fully, it would take five, maybe six.
There was a low mutter to his left. Edward shifted his gaze, but could only catch sight of shoes. Two pairs of large, military issue boots.
Well, there went that escape plan.
For the moment.
He let his eyes drift closed and instead tried to remember what had sent him to the hospital this time. Or maybe it was someone else who had been sent to the hospital. It happened. Rogue alchemists and most revolutionaries were usually downright unreasonable about being arrested. Which was why it was their own fault they sometimes came out a little worse for wear.
So, what had it been this time?
Snow stained crimson. A smiling man with square glasses. A hulking man in blue with his face slack in a terrible, empty-eyed grin.
Edward felt cold all over.
“It was not your fault.”
A voice. One of the voices. Speaking to him by name.
“Ah, I see the full blending has confused you.” The voice was soft and gentle. “It’s alright. We will not hurt you. We never meant to hurt you.”
Not hurt him! They had—
Done as he asked. Helped him keep his secrets. Hidden him away from the pain and the constant, inexorable prying into all that he was.
His racing heartbeat slowed.
The voices were allies. And, this one, this calm, deep voice was oddly familiar. It had been with him for some time, yes, but there was something more. Something that whispered of long ago. Of a place long gone. Of musty books and a thick, cloying scent.
“Who are you?”
The answer fluttered just out of his reach.
“I…,” the voice hesitated. “In life, I was known as Van Hohenheim.”
Darius leaned back in his seat, prepared to put Fullmetal’s sudden freakish abilities out of his mind. As he had said before, the less he knew about that stuff, the better. It had saved his neck, so he really didn’t care how the crazy old man had done it.
And, fortunately, said crazy old man didn’t seem to have any injuries. When they arrived, a harried-looking doctor had given Fullmetal only a quick examination before telling them to wait and hurrying away with the lieutenant colonel’s gurney. They had had to catch a passing nurse to get any answers. From her, they learned that the night staff was stretched to their limits caring for soldiers injured in an armory explosion a few blocks from the barracks.
The explosion they had heard just before Scar’s attack. Probably a deliberate distraction.
Darius’ frown deepened. He glanced toward Fullmetal’s slight form sprawled over the chairs to his right. The alchemist had passed out as soon as Scar disappeared and been dead to the world ever since. Maybe he had worn himself out with all that alchemy stuff.
Fullmetal twitched.
Or not. It looked like he might finally be waking up.
The thought had barely crossed his mind before Fullmetal was abruptly standing up on his makeshift bed, screaming obscenities at the far wall.
“What are you doing here?” he roared.
Darius was fervently glad the insane alchemist wasn’t looking at him. Of course, the fact that he wasn’t looking at anyone was a little worrying.
“You weren’t there, so you couldn’t have—” Fullmetal went on. “Why—? How—?”
“We could shoot him,” Heinkel murmured, finally recovering from his own shock.
“You first,” said Darius.
Because guns had worked so well on that Scar guy.
Abruptly, Fullmetal swung toward them, and it was all Darius could do not to cringe. But, the alchemist only stared at him in confusion and then sudden embarrassment.
“I— That was— Oh.” He sat down quickly.
Darius took a minute to make sure the gray-haired alchemist wasn’t going to lunge at him.
“You okay, Elric?”
“Oh. Fine.” The alchemist treated him to a horrible parody of a smile that stretched his wrinkled face in ways a face should not stretch. “I’m fine. Great.” He bounced to his feet. “Slept great, all ready to go.” He turned himself around a minute, searching. Then, finding it, strode toward the door. “See ya’!”
Darius glanced at Heinkel. The blond man’s dour expression was answer enough.
Yeah, he wasn’t up to seeing how many times he could cheat death in one night either.
The room was bigger than Edward had first thought with rows of chairs behind the one he had claimed and morning sunlight bursting through a long bank of windows. A larger hospital then. But, he had eyes only for the nearest exit, a pair of solid double doors that would take him out of here and to some lonely place where he could figure out why his long vanished, very unlamented father was living in his head. He knew why the other voices were in his head. Mostly. It was fuzzy, and he couldn’t bring himself to tease the tendrils of crimson memory out of the fog in his mind. But, they should be there, as they had been for years. When had his father invaded?
Maybe he really was going crazy.
“You are not crazy, Edward,” his father’s voice assured him. “I… arranged for this some years ago, shortly after you were released from the hospital.”
“Real crazy voices always tell you you’re not crazy,” Edward retorted.
But, there was something to his father’s words. A sunny day with a cloudless sky and a tall man grabbing him in the street. A stream of nonsensical apologies babbled in his ear and a flash of light. Dead weight staggering him and a confused sense of horror.
“I am sorry, Edward.”
Edward growled and shook his head as though he could also shake away the memory. This wasn’t the time for old memories. He needed to focus on more recent events. Reaching the door, he pushed his way out into the hallway beyond. His mind was worlds away, re-tracing the last events he remembered.
General Grand had died. And then…
The realization stopped him in his tracks.
Grand was dead. Grand was dead, and he was… free.
He was free. There was no one left who knew, who remembered. He could go anywhere, do anything. He could finally—
“Al.” The name slipped through his lips in a whisper.
Suddenly filled with a purpose, Edward started walking again. He needed a plan. There had to be a way to design a transmutation circle that would destroy itself after use. And then… He needed someone to— Hughes. For a minute, he tried to remember the address of the Hughes’ home. It was useless; he had only visited it once after dark. No matter. He could make a quick trip to the military records department. Hughes owed him now; the least he could do was to get his little brother a train home. Assuming home was still there. How long had it been? Was Auntie even still alive?
He was going to have to do some research. There was so much he didn’t know, had missed while stumbling along in a fog. But, that was okay. He had time. He just had to be quick and discreet.
He wished he could see Al’s face. Just one more time. Perhaps the Gate would allow him that much when he made the exchange.
“Edward…”
“It’s how it has to be, old man,” Edward growled in his mind. “I should have known there was no other way back then.”
He clenched his steel fist and tried not to wonder if his brother would suffer for his missing parts. Maybe he could find a solution for that as well. His automail wasn’t flesh, but it was mass. There was an equation in his notebook where—
Ten feet from the main entrance, the alchemist’s wild thoughts ground to a halt.
His notebook. Grand had his notebook.
Edward snarled a curse.
He wasn’t free yet. Not until every scrap of those notes was destroyed.
So, where—?
Of course. Grand was too paranoid to have kept the original notebook anywhere but on his person. Now, he was dead. And, this was probably the closest hospital to the fracas.
For once, luck was on his side.
Edward whirled around and headed back down the hall, searching for a stairwell. The morgue would be in the basement. He just had to find it, find Grand, swallow his revulsion and… Well, maybe they had removed his effects by now.
A few hurried paces at last brought him to a simple stairwell door. He reached for the knob, and nearly fell as it pulled away under his hand.
“Ah, going somewhere, Mr.Elric?”
Startled, Edward looked up to find an unfamiliar uniformed man on the other side of the door. He had a pale face and paler blue eyes set above a knife-sharp nose.
“Or should I say, Fullmetal Alchemist?” the man asked.
Edward took a step back involuntarily.
“Major Frank Archer with Investigations,” the man introduced himself, stepping free of the doorway. “I believe you encountered the elusive State Alchemist murderer earlier tonight?” He smiled thinly and looked Edward up and down. “And, escaped uninjured? Excellent. I’m going to have to request you come with me to answer some questions.”
No! He had to—
Major.
“I’m sorry, Major,” it was always fun to stress rank when he knew people were letting his age make them forget his own standing, “but I have some business to attend to.”
Like looting corpses. But, it was his own property he was “looting,” so it didn’t really count.
“Ah,” Archer tilted his head slightly in thought. “Were you going down to examine Scar’s handiwork firsthand? The opinion of a State Alchemist is, of course, always valuable in such matters.”
Edward tried not to smirk. He really did.
That was right – State Alchemist. With a rank equal to that of a major.
“Or perhaps,” Archer continued, one hand reaching into his jacket, “you were looking for this?”
A black notebook was suddenly dangling just inches from Edward’s face, close enough that he could see every crack in the aging leather cover. Then, it was gone. Before Edward could even think to reach for it, it had disappeared back into Archer’s uniform.
“Now then,” said Archer, “shall we talk?”
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“There’s no need to stare like that,” Hughes scolded from his hospital bed. “I know you can’t make a gown look so dashing, but this jealousy is very unbecoming.”
Frozen in the doorway, Mustang finally found his voice. “What happened?”
When Fuery had called him to relay the news that the military communications lines were buzzing with reports of Scar attacking, Brigadier General Grand dead and one Lieutenant Colonel Hughes among the injured, he had expected the worst. But, Hughes was awake, alert and surrounded by a minimum of medical equipment. The only hint of injury was a bandage wound around his head.
“Kimblee happened,” Hughes answered, his face darkening briefly. “But,” his smile returned, “either he’s gotten sloppy, or I’m a medical miracle! They’re mostly keeping me for observation. And, look!” He grabbed a half-covered, empty plate from the rolling cart by his bed. “Gracia brought me some more quiche. And, when she gets back from dropping my sweet Elicia off with Mrs. Harris, she might bring pie!”
It took an effort of will not to slam the door behind him as he stalked to the end of Hughes’ bed. “What did he do?” Mustang wouldn’t be deterred by Hughes’ over large smile, his flippancy, or his quiche.
“He said he did some rather unpleasant things with my body chemistry—”
“Bombs,” said Mustang flatly. “He transmutes people into bombs.”
“Yes, well, he must be slipping.” Hughes shrugged. “Despite it feeling like I was going to explode from the inside out and my looking like a bloody mess, the doctors can’t find anything wrong with me. Just this knock on the head.” He fingered the bandage around his temple. “And, that happened when he blew up the side of a building.”
“Have they had an alchemist—?”
“They’ve had five alchemists in here eyeballing me.”
Finally, Mustang started to relax. “How did Kimblee fit into this?”
Hughes looked confused. “He ambushed me in the street. I was trying to meet up with you near the barracks.” He paused. “Oh! You forgot a page.” He pointed toward the room’s single chair, which was draped with a messy blue bundle. “It’s in my uniform.”
“Kimblee?” Someone had to stay on topic.
“Right, right.” Hughes waved his hands in a placating gesture. “According to Kimblee, he was skulking around the barracks for another chance at Elric. I just made a good substitute.”
“What about Grand and Scar?” Mustang was frowning now.
“Scar was there?” Something in Hughes’ face sharpened.
“At the barracks, yes.” Shoving Hughes’ bloody uniform off the chair with a grimace, Mustang dropped into the wooden seat. “He fought and killed General Grand.”
“Old man Grand too?” Hughes whistled softly. His face sobered. “You need to be careful, Roy.”
“As if you have room to talk.”
“So,” Hughes shifted topics, “what about your project?”
“Over, I suppose,” said Mustang. “Grand’s dead, and I’m not aware of anyone he was collaborating with.”
Hughes thought this over for a moment. “So, what about your project?”
For the first time, Mustang allowed the hint of a smile to cross his lips. As always, Hughes knew him far too well.
“Well, Kimblee is still on the loose and pursuing Elric for some unknown employer,” he said. “It would be remiss of me to ignore the matter.”
“And, the curiosity will eat you alive if you drop it.” Hughes was smirking.
Mustang matched him with a smirk of his own. One that grew teeth as there was a knock on the door.
“Maybe that’s the nurse, here to subject you to cold instruments and enforce the doctor’s dietary restrictions,” he said. “Which means no more of the quiche you were holding out on me.”
“Monster,” Hughes muttered before calling more loudly. “Come in!”
Both men stiffened as Major Archer stepped into the room.
“Lieutenant Colonel Hughes,” he greeted, pausing to nod toward Mustang as well. “Colonel Mustang.” He turned his attention back to Hughes. “I heard about your injuries, Lieutenant Colonel. Sustained during Scar’s attack, I take it?”
“No, I was attacked by Solf J. Kimblee, the former Crimson Alchemist.” Hughes’ face was all business now. “Inform the task force assigned to bring him in. He caught me a block from the scene of Scar’s attack and claimed his original target was the Fullmetal Alchemist, Edward Elric. This is the second time he’s attempted to either capture or kill Elric.”
Archer inclined his head. “I’ll be sure to inform them. Now, as to the Scar case…”
“I’ll contact my team,” said Hughes. “The doctors intend to release me by tomorrow at the latest. My men can start collecting statements and evidence in the meantime.”
“There’s no need,” said Archer smoothly. “Considering your injuries, I’ve been assigned to the case for the time being.”
“What?”
“It was believed you were quite heavily injured, Lieutenant Colonel.” Archer frowned in feigned concern. “Knowing you were attacked by Kimblee - and given his reputation - perhaps you should stay for further observation? It was my understanding that he had developed a means to transmute living bodies into time bombs as well.”
Hughes’ knuckles were as white as the sheets they gripped. “I’ve already been examined by five alchemists who specialize in biological transmutation.”
“Excellent.” Archer smiled. “You should have nothing to worry about in that case. But, it’s always wise to take precautions.” He turned. “I’ll see to it that the investigation is conducted properly until your return, Lieutenant Colonel.”
He opened the door, and the other men were surprised to see a familiar gray-haired man standing behind it. Surprise flashed across Archer’s face as well. Then, it was swallowed by a mask of careful calm.
“Ah, Fullmetal,” he said, smiling once more. “Come along. I still need your statement on the incident.”
Fullmetal scowled but stepped back to let Archer through. As the taller man moved past, Fullmetal peered into the room. His yellow eyes swept over Hughes appraisingly before flicking to meet Mustang’s curious gaze. Locking eyes with the colonel, he jabbed a hand in the direction Archer had taken and mouthed a single word. Then, he was gone.
There was silence for a moment as Mustang carefully shut the door. Once it was secured, Hughes opened his mouth.
“Not that I don’t agree with Elric’s assessment of Archer, but what was that about?”
Frowning, Mustang stared at the door. After a moment, his face cleared and he turned to face Hughes.
“And, what were you doing around the barracks at that time of night?” he asked, pointing at his friend.
“Huh?” Hughes’ face was a textbook image of confusion.
“That’s what Archer should have asked,” said Mustang. “Or rather, what he should want to know. But, he doesn’t. All he wants is your investigation.”
Hughes huffed. “Archer’s obsessed with advancement and recognition,” he said. “He probably thinks he can solve this one and finally get the brass’s attention.”
“Maybe,” said Mustang. “It’s interesting to me, however, how quickly he’s collected Elric.” He crossed the room and pulled Hughes’ uniform from the floor.
“Okay, seriously, Roy, what is this guy—?”
“Not here,” said Mustang. Retrieving the folded page of Fullmetal’s file, he tucked it into his own jacket and then folded the bloodied uniform back on the chair. “And, don’t go prying into it.”
“Me? Pry?” Hughes grinned.
Mustang scowled back. “I’m serious, Hughes.” Taking a step toward the bed, he lowered his voice. “Maes, listen to me. I’m not sure all this was a coincidence. And, you’ve got Gracia and Elicia to think of. You should take a vacation.”
“Roy?” Hughes hesitated, then dropped his own voice. “You think it’s that bad.”
“I think,” said Mustang, “that I’d rather deal with ten of Brigadier General Grand than a man who would set Kimblee loose just to further his ambitions.” His last words were a vicious whisper.
Hughes stared at him for several long seconds. Slowly, his face hardened.
“This is bad, Roy.” He paused, considered. “Look, I’ll send my girls to Gracia’s cousin. He lives south of here and—”
“You too,” said Mustang sharply.
“I’m not leaving you alone with this!”
The two men glared at one another.
“I promised to help you,” said Hughes. He slashed a hand through the air. “I knew the risks.”
Mustang smiled suddenly. “But, you will be helping me.”
“I—What?”
Mustang’s smile never wavered. “The south, you said?” His voice was a purr. “I happen to need someone to visit a little place in the south. It’s called Dublith.”
Ten minutes later, Mustang slipped out of Hughes’ room on a mission. He was operating on nothing more than a hunch, but he had rarely been so certain. Archer had met with one of the guards Grand had assigned at the library. Only days later, Kimblee had made his first attempt at kidnapping Elric. Then, all in one night, Archer had been handed legitimate access to Elric and no Grand to interfere. Of course, Scar killing Grand was likely no more than a fortunate coincidence. But, Archer had moved quickly to capitalize on it.
Then, there was Elric’s behavior. Only once before had he looked at Mustang so intently. In that instant of calm after his seizure. When he had left his “message” for Grand. Mouthing the same epithet he had now bestowed upon Archer.
“He might not remember that,” Mustang reminded himself.
But, his gut instinct said otherwise. Those yellow eyes had been clearer than he had ever seen them.
Debating his next course of action, Mustang headed for the main hallway and exit. As he rounded a corner, he paused at the sight of Elric’s bodyguards standing uncertainly in the hall, looking first one way and then another.
“…can’t have gone far,” Darius was saying.
“Sure we even want to find him?” Heinkel asked.
Mustang immediately moved to meet them. “Are you looking for Elric?”
Both men spun around before visibly relaxing at the sight of him.
“Sir.” Heinkel’s salute was perfunctory at best. “That’s right. Elric… stepped out of the waiting room and never came back.”
“I saw him with Major Archer from Investigations,” said Mustang, wondering why they had allowed the diminutive alchemist to go anywhere, even to the bathroom, alone. The man had barely been able to walk straight less than twenty-four hours ago. “I suspect the major has commandeered Elric for questioning about Scar’s attack.”
The burly pair frowned. Mustang could almost feel the obvious question in both their minds. What now?
“Could you tell me what happened?” he asked, hoping to get some answers before they decided to either be done with it all and wait for new orders or hunt down Archer and Elric.
“What didn’t happen?” muttered Heinkel after a moment.
“Yeah, to tell you the truth, I’m not sure what happened,” said Darius. “First, Elric got out of his room.”
“Through the window,” added Heinkel.
“Yeah,” Darius agreed, “through the window.” He frowned. “From the second floor.” He shook his head quickly. “We found him out in the snow looking after Lieutenant Colonel Hughes.”
Mustang stiffened. “Lieutenant Colonel Hughes?”
Both men nodded.
“No idea what happened to him,” said Heinkel. “He was covered in blood, and Elric was yelling at us to call a doctor. By the time we did that and got out there, someone had called the General too.”
“Blood? From his head wound?” asked Mustang.
“Head wound?” Heinkel frowned. “I guess he might have had one. His whole face was bloody. Looked like he’d been coughing it up.”
Mustang felt cold. Coughing up blood was certainly more the sort of injury he expected from an attack by Kimblee. But, no doctor alive could have missed something that obvious.
“Then, Scar showed up and attacked the General. So, we tried to get the Lieutenant Colonel and Elric out of there,” Darius continued. “Only, when he saw the General about to get hit by Scar, Elric just…” He looked toward his partner, who shrugged hopelessly. “It was some kind of alchemy,” Darius said at last. “I couldn’t tell you what. He made a wall between them. It wasn’t his fault that Scar guy went through it like wet cardboard.”
Mustang took a deep breath. Elric was the one to find Hughes. Elric, whose file noted again and again his uncanny ability to perform alchemy by merely clapping his hands.
“Gentlemen,” he started, “I realize you’ll probably be questioned again, but could you tell me exactly what happened out there tonight?”
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I'm still a little uncertain about this chapter, and I'm not sure why. Maybe just because I made a few late in the game changes. At any rate, now everyone knows who the chatty voice is. And, you might notice the dropping of a few more hints as regards Al.
Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12-A 12-B 13 14 15 16 17-A 17-B
