Disclaimer: I don't own FMA
Summary: Roy Mustang is injured and during his recovery becomes obesesed with an Aerugian classic, The Inferno. His team tries to find a meaning behind it as time runs out to get their Colonel back before Prince Claudio's visit.
Warnings: injury, drugs, ghost, RoyAi, creepy ass Pride. Angst.
AN: Was a FMA Fic Contest entry for prompt 290:Cool back in 9/2014 and also used for FMAWeek2015 Day 2 prompt Fear. It's complete, just needed cleaned up so I decided to get it posted. The Inferno is one of my favorites which, as you can imagine, was not a difficult connection to make.
The Inferno
Chapter 1
Limbo
Fighting villains on top of moving trains was impossible. The wind velocity alone was enough to nullify it as an option as a course of action, physics would not be ignored just because it stirred up an image of the daunting hero. It was something best left to the silent films, radio serials, manga NOT field reports. It was not going to be something that would end up in the Flame Alchemist's autobiography, however it was going to be in the Fullmetal Alchemist's obituary if the dumb shit didn't start listening to his superior officer!
Yup, that was what he said. Yet here he was,standing on top of the passenger car of the westbound train with his black trench coat whipping behind him as he struggled to maintain balance on the steel roof. His arm was stretched out, gloved hand poised to snap, as his dark eyes teared up in the on rushing wind. Roy knew his time was running out, the train had slowed down for this treacherous curve but would be speeding up again in a matter of minutes.
Then there was that little added bonus: The fact that he opted to chase his prey to the roof just as the
train approached the dangerous section of track. A ridiculous place to run a railroad track, the cliche "Deadman's Curve.", where some moron surveyor deemed it a necessity to lay track within a few feet of a cliff. Probably the same idiot who designed their uniform pants.
It was the stuff great novels or movies were made of. In reality, it was scaring the shit out of him and he wished that Hawkeye had been able to stop him before he recklessly charged up here. Instead she was behind him, kneeling with her rifle aimed at the train hijacker. They must have looked picturesque, him standing off to the side just enough to give her clearance to shoot, both of them a fearless force representing the mighty Amestrian military who bowed down to no one; Not a hijacker. Not physics. Not common sense.
Hawkeye was going to rake him over the coals for this one, he deserved it too, for putting her in harm's way like this. However at this moment he was standing here on a train with wind blowing in his face, pretending like he had a play. He didn't. Even he couldn't control the flame in this wind, it would blow back and roast them both alive if he snapped. Well done Roy! Shit...that wasn't even intended to be a pun. Focus, idiot! This is your fault, fix it!
So when he heard a gunshot he expected the man in front of him to go down, not to hear a yelp as his Lieutenant slid towards the edge of the train car. Everything went in to slow motion. His eyes darted down, registering the body sliding towards the edge as he launched sideways to grab her. He landed flat on his stomach, grabbing her rifle as it was the only thing his fingers could get a hold of as she slipped off the side of the roof. His heart seemed to quit beating for a split second right before it exploded in a rapid burst of beats thanks to the panic.
Riza slammed into the side of the passenger car. She looked up, not comprehending how the rifle she was still holding on to could get caught on something and save her from plunging to certain death. Then she saw them, the white gloved fingers wrapped around her gun stock right. She was already being tugged back up, her legs scrambling against the windows to try and push herself back to safety. One more tug and she could see on top of the train again and to Roy's panicked eyes as he struggled to save her.
She felt her own eyes grow wide as the shooter walked over with his Enfield in hand. She knew she was shot, a throbbing pain in her left shoulder told her that once her adrenaline ebbed she would be more aware of the hole in her flesh. However, right now that man wasn't pointing the barrel at them, he was showing them the butt plate. She watched her Colonel's face go from fear to agony as the shooter slammed the butt of the rifle into his clenched right hand. She couldn't hear anything because of the wind, but it saved them both from hearing bones crack. Bones in his hand, those precious hands that conjured his trademark alchemy or caressed her ever so gently when nobody was looking. Those hands that were wrapped around the wooded stock of her rifle. One of the two hands that was stopping her from plummeting off the side of this cliff.
She was helpless to do anything but watch as the gunman struck again. Roy gritted his teeth as his bones crumbled under the assault. With tendons no long having attachments to manipulate, like a puppet master who's marionettes has been eaten away by termites, his right hand went limp as it was no longer serviceable. Somehow, in that millisecond where his grip released and her weight pulled the rifle back towards the edge, he hooked his wrist under the leather rifle sling that still lie between them on the rooftop. Shattered hand no longer useful, he wrapped it up in the worn leather sling to provide
an anchor.
It happened so fast she couldn't blink. The look on his face was as complex as the array etched in her back; agony, terror, desperation, confusion and devotion all wrapped into one god-awful look on his face. Then the hijacker turned his rifle around and aimed at the left hand with the more dangerous end of his firearm. She looked up in horror as the man pulled the trigger, the recoil seemed to put him off balance on the roof for a few moments but her eyes were drawn to the blood that split out of the hand on her right. Roy's hand.
Roy screamed as the bullet ripped through his hand and the metal roof and probably embedded itself in someone below. Tears streaked down his face as the pain and desperation clawed at him. Then his heart stopped as he watched her hand move. Her left hand moved a few inches to the center of her gun, the she let go with her right hand. "Lieutenant!"
Riza had enough of being he helpless damsel and gritted her teeth as her body pulled down on her wounded shoulder. Her right hand reached for her pistol as she heard Roy's cry. A pitiful wail, a desperate plea to not lose faith in him or leave him.
He watched her gun emerge from the abyss behind her and the muzzle flash as she shot the
man trying to destroy his ability to hold on to the one thing he needed most in this world. The gunman flopped off the train car and bounced his way down the cliff side allowing him to concentrate on Riza. The pain was intense, but the thought of losing her far worse. "Lieutenant!"
Riza holstered her gun and put her hand back on the rifle, the pain from her wound screaming at her the entire fifteen seconds it took to dispose of the man. She looked at Roy, his face betraying his agony and fear as if his strained scream didn't tell her enough. She tried to pull herself up but couldn't get enough purchase to move up while dangling off the side of the moving car and fighting the wind.
The fact was now that his right hand was useless and his left marginally functional. His boots were slipping from where they hooked on the rivets keeping the roof panels together: that was hardly optimal either. The train was picking up speed as they began to come out of the curve. He looked into Riza's eyes and said, "Can you climb up me?"
She got a foothold on the window and pushed up on it only to have it slip off and yank them both closer to the edge. "Let go of me."
"Never!" He growled through the pain. "Dammit Lieutenant, get your ass back up here on this roof!"
She felt him slip closer to her and realized it was going to have to be her that let go. If not he would be pulled over with her. "Sir, I'm sorry..."
"Sorry my ass." He hissed. "I gave you an order Lieutenant!"
She could hear the panic in his voice even with the wind in her ears. Still, even at this moment they weren't going to break protocol. Still so formal, even as their eyes expressed the torrent of emotions threatening to swallow them both us. Devoted to the end. She swallowed hard and wished her last glimpse of him wasn't going to be his pain wracked face and pleading eyes.
"Oh my God, you're such an asshole!"
Riza glanced up as a grinning teenage alchemist placed his hands on the rooftop and gave her a ledge to stand on using his alchemy. Edward Elric, master of timing. He must have had a internal compass that directed him to the center of chaos , because that kid was always making an appearance when hell broke loose. Then a ladder materialized beside the shelf he made under her and she pulled herself back up.
Ed glanced over at Mustang, prepared to ask him if he was going to revise his colorful commentary on his field report about 'only fucking idiots pick fights on top of train cars' but saw the man's face and thought better of it. It felt like someone kicked in him the stomach as he saw the pain wracked face of his superior, Mustang must have been in excruciating pain. Tears were rolling down his cheeks and he was shaking a little. He put a hand on the man's shoulder, concern for the man's now paramount. "Colonel, are you OK?"
Riza crawled over to her Colonel and wrapped herself over his prone body. "Ed, his hands are broken. Please help me get him to the top of the car. Please get some help to get him down. Please."
Ed blinked. Mustangs hands? His weapons? He could see the man try to steel his nerves, wash the look of pain from his face but it wasn't happening. "Right."
"No." Roy said though gritted teeth. "Get the hijacker. He's heading to the engine. We...will make our way to the front, if they are taking over the train I can..."
Riza gripped his coat in her fist. Damned stubborn man! "Help me pull him up, Ed."
Roy pushed back the pain as Ed grabbed him by his boot to help pull him back to a more stable position. He had no choice but to allow his hands to drag across the rooftop. "I'll still be able to control the fire in the engine. Just catch him."
"Right." He looked at Hawkeye, unsure what to do. This wasn't what he expected to find when he got on the roof, "I'll send Al up here! He can make a hole in the roof and get you into the car."
Hawkeye watched him scamper across the roof and drop down the ladder. He was rattled seeing his Colonel incapacitated and so was she. They all would be. Then she laid over Roy and wrapped her arms around him to ensure he didn't slide anywhere, trying to avoid thinking about an uncertain future and how she could do nothing to ease his pain. "You damned fool."
He looked at his hands, still tangled up in her rifle and wondered what the hell he was going to do without them. He pushed himself up on his elbows and felt Hawkeye wrap herself around him tighter. At least he still had her. No matter what life took from him, as long as he had her it was going to be fine.