Omg I wrote this so long ago, for AlMei week 2014 and I read it again and figured I'd post it because why not. Hopefully you enjoy it.
oOoOo
In hindsight, Alphonse realizes, they should have never trusted the weather.
It was supposed to be a nice day. Old Man Li, infamous in the court for being able to predict the weather by the sheer level of ache in his bones, had foretold a glorious, sunny day. And it had seemed that he would be right; the sky had started out sunny and clear, with not a cloud in sight and a beautiful scent unique only to spring permeating the air. It was so nice, in fact, that Mei and Alphonse came to the unanimous agreement that it was time to forego studies of alkahestry and pack a picnic for a secluded meadow and an afternoon of relaxation.
So really, Alphonse decides as he blinks pouring rain from his eyes and presses his already bloodied hand over the gushing wound in Mei's stomach, this can all be blamed on the weather.
Mei hears a crack from the surrounding woods and freezes, pained eyes darting towards the sound. "D-did they find us?" she stammers through chattering teeth. Blood loss and the chill in the air are getting to her, as her hand-held tightly in one of his own-is shaking like a leaf in a gale and her cheeks are chalk white.
"We're fine," Alphonse answers.
"But-"
"We're fine," he stresses. "Just concentrate on breathing."
"W-we need to g-get out of here," she orders. A wave of pain grips her abdomen and she gasps, contracting inwards and squeezing his hand like a vice.
"Breathe," Alphonse tells her again, reminding both his struggling teacher and himself at the same time. He curses the Drachman rebels that surprised them in the middle of running away from the downpour for what seems to be the hundredth time. All the while he throws a quick glance over his shoulder to insure that they are, in fact, "fine"-though he wouldn't exactly call bleeding out in the middle of the woods fine.
And he curses himself, because if he had only been a little more well-versed in healing alkahestry he could heal her. If he had only reacted just a little sooner to reflect the spinning, glinting knife-if he had only been able to protect her a little bit better.
But he didn't. And he can't.
Stop it, he snaps mentally. Think. Bloodthirsty rebels are chasing you. How many? Five. Weapons? At least five guns and a knife. How far behind you? Not sure, laid a trail to try and throw them off. Your condition? Bullet graze to the arms and a few bumps and bruises. Mei's? A quick glance tells him all he needs to know.
Critical.
"Y-you should leave me," Mei suggests. Before he can counter attack this with a vehement "No", she continues. "Y-you can't get far w-with me, and I'm n-not going anywhere-go and soldiers to g-get the rebels." He doesn't address how she says nothing about bringing back medical help for her.
"No," he snaps after he overcomes the initial shock that she would think he'd even consider such a preposterous idea.
"Alph-"
"No." It comes out more harshly than he intends it to, and the brief hurt that flashes through her eyes is not from the agonizing pain in her stomach. Closing his eyes and inhaling a controlled breath, fighting the inner urge to panic, he gathers his fluctuating emotions before facing her once more. "Do you trust me?"
She looks taken aback.
"Wha-?"
"Do you trust me?"
"O-of course."
Gold eyes stare deep into black. "Do you trust that I can get us both home safely?"
She hesitates, see where he's going with this, and she doesn't like it. Of course she trusts him. She trusts him with everything in her. But the fact remains that they're the prey, and the hunters are not far behind. And she'll do anything to make sure he returns back home safe and unharmed.
Still, truth and his eyes boring into her demand she duck her head and whisper, "Yes."
Without relieving pressure on the wound that serves as the Drachmans' calling card, Alphonse rocks backward. "Good. And I will. Just trust me."
A guttural cry and the sound of underbrush being stomped under heavy boots sends both master and pupil's heads spinning towards it. Alphonse feels his already racing heartbeat pick up a notch as Mei's breathing becomes more ragged. Her eyes are wide and-is this fear within them?
Something in Alphonse snaps. Mei should not-must not-be afraid.
He strips off his white button up, what had once been his jacket pressed to Mei's wound and already bloodsoaked. A newfound sense of urgency hurries his actions as he pulls off the crimson cloth-trying not to wince at the sight of the severed flesh-and places the button-up over it. It's wet and thin, but at least it'll help somewhat.
"What are you doing?" Mei gasps out through gritted teeth.
"Just trust me," Al says hurriedly, then slides his arms under her knees and underarms in one smooth motion. Her body tenses as she realizes what he's about to do, and without any further warning he lifts her upward.
She stifles a shriek of agony as she is bundled to his chest, grinding her teeth and burying her face in the wet cotton of his tee-shirt. His heart lurches as he immediately falls into a loping run, her pained sobs a perverse drumbeat to keep in time with. He can feel her blood soaking through his shirt and mingling with the rainwater on his skin. The downpour is still not letting up. Leaves are whipped into his face, the ground is slick beneath his feet, and all the while he can hear the sounds of their pursuers coming ever closer. He prays to every god he can think of, every saint he's ever heard of. "Please don't let them find us. Please don't let Mei die. Please don't let them find us."
They do.
A gruff shout and a terrified look over his shoulder tells him his worst fears are realized and the Drachmans have caught sight of them. Huge, gruff men clothed in furs and ragged military uniforms, toting weapons and wearing leers on their cragged face are pounding towards the wounded duo. Their leader, the largest man with scraggly blond hair pasted to his face, lets out a battle cry and points his gun towards them, as if to egg his men onwards. They have no problem doing so.
Darting in between trees, skirting around bushes, slipping and sliding in the muck, Alphonse leads the men on a not-so-merry chase. Underbrush whips past him and smacks him on the cheek. Mud proves treacherous, almost making him fall more than once. Wind and rain buffets him in a seemingly never ending deluge.
And Mei is dying.
Alphonse doesn't want to kill anyone. He is completely aware of this. The thought of putting an end to any human life repels him, even that of the Drachman bearing down upon him. He and Ed stuck by their decision not to waste human lives back when he was nothing more than a soul and a suit of armor, and he doesn't plan on changing that now. But Mei… Does he have a choice? A glance down at her pale face bared in pain, her hand squeezing the fabric of his shirt, tells him he does not. They lost the men. For now. But their footsteps can still be heard and Al is running out of time.
Alphonse is jerked from his decision making by a poorly placed footstep and a mud puddle. His feet go flying out from under him and he slams to the ground before he can catch himself. Mei goes flying from his arms and lands in a heap, a strangled scream ripping from her throat. Spitting mud and twigs, wiping the muck from his face, he scrambles towards her.
"Damn it, damn it, damn it!" he gasps out, horrified at the amount of blood that has spilled out upon the ground from her fall. "Oh god, oh no. Please no." He gathers her in his arms again, feeling her butterfly heartbeat-yes, keep beating-in her chest and her shaking hand upon his arm.
"Alph-phonse-"
He's out of time. And he knows what he has to do.
"Keep the pressure on it," he tells her. A bush is but a few feet to his right, perfect for concealing her small body. "Okay? Trust me." He carefully makes his way to it, hollowing out a space just big enough for her. Thick, green leaves will make for good cover, and if he can lead the men away until he disposes of them she will stand a chance if he's quick enough.
"Wh-what are you doing?" she asks, eyes becoming frantic. She knows, she knows, she knows he's leaving her alone, and even though she told him to earlier she's fifteen years old and scared. Her weak hands clutch at him, reaching out to grip his retracting fingers. "Alphonse, wait-"
He takes the trembling fingers in his own and squeezes them, hopefully lending her a bit of his own warmth to her cold body. Doing his best to muster a comforting smile, he says, "I'll be back in a little while. Keep pressure on the wound and try to stay awake. Okay?"
"No, no, wait-"
"Trust me," he says again. "Just trust me. Okay?"
Her eyes are filled with tears, but she manages to swallow and give a shaky nod. "Be c-careful."
Then he's gone and running again, making an obscene amount of noise and leaving the worst trail in the history of trails so hopefully he'll be seen. Thankfully, it works, and bullets zinging around him let him know that he's still being pursued.
He never thought he'd be so happy to hear that.
Before him, he can see another clearing through the trees. Perfect. He can...eliminate the men there. He puts on another burst of speed, silently thanking all those terrible workouts he puts himself through. Something hits his thigh with a white-hot pain, drawing a surprised gasp from his lungs, and when he hastily drags a palm across the spot it comes away bloody. His stomach gives a lurch when he realizes he's been shot.
He hopes Mei truly does trust him, because at the moment he certainly doesn't.
He bursts into the clearing, a bullet meant to connect with his chest grazing his shoulder and sending a curse tumbling from his mouth. Tearing up grass and dashing rainwater from his eyes, heaving for breath, he makes his way into the middle and waits, ready to slap his hands to the ground should a hailstorm of bullets makes itself known.
Then they come, bursting into the clearing in a proverbial stampede. Really, as rebels go, these are not very good ones. How they ever let themselves be caught by these people is beyond him. The rebels stare at him, a hungry gleam in their eyes and hands grasping their weapons. Steadying his breath and shaking hands, Alphonse uses the ground to sense their xi through the ground. Usually he has to close his eyes and really focus to catch the dragon's pulse, but today he doesn't have that luxury. Using the best he can get-no more than five infinitesimal glimmers-he plans his strategy. The ground is too soggy to use to pummel them into bloody spots in the dirt, and there don't appear to be any large enough rocks. The best course of action will be to open a pit and let it swallow them, drowning them in mud.
He feels sick.
Then Mei's face appears in his mind's eye, and he can't bear the thought of letting these men go free enough to harm her anymore. The leader charges towards him, bearing a knife flecked with blood-Mei's blood-followed by the rest of his crew, and Alphonse stands for as long as he can. He only really has one shot at this. Closer comes the stampede, closer, closer-
He sees Mei again, his heart stops beating, and with a clap he drops to the ground.
A hideous squelching sound fills his ears, a cavernous yawn opening to suck in whatever poor souls may be unlucky enough to be within its reach. Terrified yells call for help, strangled cries for mercy.
And they don't stop.
Alphonse doesn't stop to survey his handiwork for very long-five Drachman heads poke out of the ground like daisies, surprised and angry and fearful. The leader struggles, writhing in his muddy prison like the rest of his men; he even goes so far as to snap at Alphonse's heels as he walks past. Alphonse feels slightly sick-after all, these men wanted to kill him. he should probably have killed them. But then he thinks of Ed, and Mei, and Izumi, and Winry, and knows he made the right choice. Soldiers will be dispatched to be rid of them soon enough.
He retraces his steps as fast as he can, trying to make out his trail in the rain. Knowing there's blood trailing down his leg, he rips a strip from his undershirt and binds it around the wound in a shoddy bandage before continuing. It seems an eternity until he reaches the bush again. It's the same as when he left it, concealed from the world, so the Drachmans didn't find her. Relief washes over him as he brushes aside the entrance. "Mei? Mei, it's me. I'm back."
His heart turns to stone.
She's so white. Whiter than snow, than ice-she looks like his mother when they laid her in a casket and buried her in the ground. She's limp as the noodles the people of Xing are so fond of. Her eyes are closed. She looks dead. "Mei?! Oh, god, Mei!" Pressing a hand on her stomach, he draws her from the bush frantically and brushes the hair from her face. "Mei! Please wake up. Please don't do this to me. Oh, god, no. Please, Mei."
Her lips part to make way for a tiny intake of breath, although her eyes are still shut. Al's breath comes out in a terrible shudder and he gathers her to his chest, sobbing thanks and threats into her soaking hair. He stands, cradling her like a baby, and takes off for a village he knows is somewhere around here.
Please let her live.
oOoOo
Fifteen minutes later, the villagers of the tiny Village of Ni-Yao are astonished to see a blond, golden eyed white man carrying a blood covered Xingese girl burst through the main gates. Both soaked, both bloody, one looking dead and the other screaming for help and something about how he is an ambassador from Amestris and she is a princess of Xing and for the love of god, somebody help her!
Twentyfive minutes later, Mei wakes up to the sight of a wizened old woman standing over her and cleaning up the remnants of a fairly complicated alkahestry circle. After a confused "where am I?" she is gathered into a strong hug by Alphonse, who is unashamedly sobbing again. He doesn't let her go, even as his own leg and shoulder are healed and they are offered another room to recuperate in. He still keeps a protective hand on her shoulder as they step into a carriage and begin the ride back home to the capital, where Ling will surely be concerned at their perceived state and then inevitably laugh at them.
"I knew you would do it," Mei whispers as they trundle along. She's tucked securely between his arm and his side, nestled into him and the blanket wrapped around them.
He leans his head on hers, closing his eyes and breathing in her scent. "I couldn't kill them."
"The villagers will take care of them," she murmurs back. "I knew you would do the right choice."
"Was it?"
"Of course it was." She reaches up to plant a light kiss on his cheek. "I trusted you for a reason."
They fall to sleep with smiles on their faces and hands clasped tight.
oOoOo
There it is, hope you liked it. Drop me a review and tell me about yo feelings, you cool cats.