Inspired by 'The Pawn' written by sweetsheart.
AN: Yes, yes, I know I promised myself I'd only focus on the multi-chaps, but the plot bunny bit me hard on this one. I don't think I could have ignored it even if I tried! Yet another hurt/comfort story, so hold on to your hats, ladies and gents!
It was all rather abrupt.
He hadn't expected to be able to pinpoint the precise moment when everything turned south, all the way down to the exact millisecond his stomach plummeted to somewhere around his ankles, his heart squeezed its way into his throat, and his blood turned to ice water.
Well, it wasn't often he was right about anything but the technology, after all. He supposed it wasn't all that odd to be wrong about this as well.
Work had gone as expected for the majority of the day. He'd fixed Havoc's phone for the third time that week- Havoc never seemed to understand that the heat of his still smouldering cigarette butts was bad for the rubber coating and the wire was a complete hazard without it. He'd actually considered inventing a new kind of wire that would function safely without any sort of coating at all, but that seemed a little impossible, even for him. He supposed he'd have to ask the Elrics about it if he ever got the chance.
He coughed.
Ah.
He was getting distracted again. He still couldn't quite figure out how he ended up on the floor. He could have sworn he was standing just a minute ago...
But then it had probably all started when that weird call came in earlier- the one asking when Colonel Mustang was open to seeing some old friends from his days in Ishval. Well, he hadn't really thought too much about it at the time- they'd had the right clearance, after all. He'd penciled them in for...
When was it?
Ah, it was hard to remember.
They'd come, though.
All seven of them.
"Fuery! Fuery!"
It was getting awfully noisy again...made it hard to concentrate...
Something weird had happened after they came in. He wasn't sure exactly what. He'd been on his way out to turn in a requisition form to the General Supplies department for more wire and some replacement pegs for his switchboard- they were getting a bit worn from constant use and he'd rather not risk a fire.
But when he'd come back everything was really strange. No one was in the outer office anymore. It was like they'd just dropped everything and left. He still didn't really know what had happened. He remembered, though- he'd gone to the inner office to see if the Colonel knew where everybody was- and there they were.
But as soon as he'd walked in someone was grabbing him from behind and there was a cold metal barrel shoved against his temple.
That was it.
In the split second between recognizing the gun against his brain and recognizing that there was one against the Colonel's as well.
That was when he'd known.
The gun pointed at Colonel Mustang...that wasn't right at all.
He grimaced, feeling the faintest prickling of discomfort in his side. And his chest too, now that he thought about it.
It hadn't been that way before, though.
He was good at fights like that. Well, better than you'd think, anyhow.
Bullies- he'd always been the target of at least two. You got used to dodging what you could and shrugging off the ones you couldn't.
The guns had been new though. There weren't usually so many people yelling at him either.
He'd gotten a little distracted, actually.
He'd taken down the first guy without too much trouble- a good headbutt and kick to the unmentionables and even the biggest bullies dropped screaming like a baby. Even managed to get the gun away from him, too. Then things had really kicked up and he wasn't all that great at shooting and moving at the same time.
At that point he'd realized Havoc and Hawkeye were fighting their captors for control of the guns. And Breda was wrestling his to the ground while Falman had managed to slip out of the other guy's hold and pin him to the ground with what Kain assumed was that pressure point thing he was always trying to teach everyone- of course that left the really angry guy on the ground behind him, the one with Colonel Mustang in a stranglehold, and then there was still that other guy with a gun pointed too close to the Colonel for comfort.
Everyone else had looked pretty busy, so he'd decided to take care of them himself. He didn't like shooting anyone, but the Colonel was really important, so he guessed that made it all a little better.
He'd planted his feet and fired a shot into the guy aiming at the Colonel, hitting him in the shoulder.
Turns out that wasn't such a great idea.
The other guy squeezed off a return shot and either that guy had been really lucky or Kain was having a really bad day because it actually got him. Then that other guy- the one holding the Colonel hostage- he fired off a shot too, and Kain figured he must be having a really, really bad day because he dodged straight into it.
He winced and moved to touch the hole in his side, hands catching his fingers before they could do much more than graze the sticky wetness of his uniform jacket.
That last shot had thrown him a little bit- it was kinda hard to keep the gun steady when it hurt his chest to hold the gun in position. But he'd managed to stay up. That was something, at least. And he thought his next shot had actually killed the guy that shot him the first time. He felt a little guilty about that, actually. Not as guilty as he would have before the guy shot him, but still.
Then he'd realized that the Colonel had managed to get free and was just finishing up with his fight. The others were doing the same, disabling their opponents in their own special ways. But he felt like he was forgetting something...
He coughed again through gritted teeth, stiffening and just concentrating on breathing without screaming for the next few minutes, finally registering the pressure against his wounds and the feel of well-worn woolens against the back of his head and neck.
His back...yeah, that was it. There had been that last guy there at the end. He remembered now. That uppercut that sent him stumbling into the wall, all-consumed with just standing.
If there was one rule to remember with bullies, it was don't ever fall down because the things they did when you were down were so much worse than anything they could do to you while you were standing.
He'd learned that one in high school.
Everything after that was a big blank. Well, he'd broken his most important rule, so maybe he didn't really want to know after all.
His hands clenched at the hands wrapped around his own, eyes squinting in pain.
"Hold on, Fuery! For the love of God, hold on you little idiot! A medic's on the way, so don't you dare give up yet, kid!"
Ah. That sounded like Havoc. He sounded worried. Maybe he should...open...his eyes...
AN: Aaand that's the end. Decided to leave it open-ended. So...you guys decide! Does Fuery survive? Or does he die?
Of course, if enough of you wanted me to decide it one way or another I might be persuaded. You never know, I might even come back to this later and write a couple of different endings! ;)
Thoughts and comments welcome!