A/N: Alright, so I'm going to try and run with this now. It's starting to develop into an AU that will include everyone, so expect Royai (of course) Parental!RoyEdAl, slight Parental!Riza, Edwin, AlMay, etc. What my goal is is to include all of the characters that had a role in the Promised Day, and alter the events that led up to and include it.
So I'm going with the divergence that Pride encounters Hohenheim (with a different outcome) before Hawkeye meets him. There are changes to Pride's appearance (eyes), etc. that will be explained if I continue further. So we'll see…
Thank you for the reviews and feedback especially; I didn't expect the amount of interest I received for a continuation. Let's see how this goes… And if it doesn't go anywhere, at the very least Roy is still alive and well…
Just as his head went limp and bowed forward, something inside of her stirred. Agitated, she growled, "You can't wake up now, not yet."
As the shadows withdrew, the unconscious man's weight pulled him downward. But before he hit the floor, she reached out and caught him, helping his body down. When he was safely on the floor, she stood and clicked her tongue in disdain, glaring at him as he breathed evenly at her feet.
It seemed that, for the time being, she couldn't kill him.
Bolting upright in his bed, Roy Mustang clutched his chest and panted frantically, drawing in as much oxygen as he could muster. Beneath his balled up fist, his heart pounded loudly and erratically at the memory of that nightmare. Reaching up with his free hand, he wrapped his fingers around his sweat-soaked neck and slowly massaged the area, his light grip irritating the strangely sensitive area.
Taking a deep breath, Roy exhaled slowly, commanding himself to steady his breathing. It had been a nightmare, he told himself as he looked around his room. Fingertips brushing over the skin on his neck again, he furrowed his brow at the sensitivity. Readying himself to get out of bed and examine his neck, he turned toward his alarm clock, causing his heart rate to skyrocket yet again.
It was 8:03am. He was late.
Throwing the covers off himself, he rolled out of bed and grabbed the shirt he wore the night before, not caring that it was not pressed and wrinkled. Once he had slipped it over his head, he grabbed his uniform jacket that hung from his desk's chair and pulled it on.
When he had pulled his pants on, he grabbed an apple from a small basket of fruit on his kitchen table. Biting down on it and holding it between his teeth, he shrugged his black trench coat on over his shoulders and pushed his arms through.
Making his way out of his apartment, he closed the door behind him, forgetting entirely to stop and examine his neck.
When he walked through the doors of Central Headquarters, Roy's ears were instantly bombarded by a mess of quiet, unintelligible cacophony, individual soldiers' words lost to the conversations of others.
Just as he rounded the corner, Roy slammed into someone traveling opposite of him. Stumbling back he apologized as he looked up at them and froze, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end.
Equally shocked by the sudden collision, but managing to collect herself faster than the superior officer was Lieutenant Hawkeye. Recognizing Roy, her hand snapped up in a crisp salute as she said, "My apologies, sir. I wasn't paying attention to where I was going."
Letting go of the breath he didn't realize he had held, Roy stiffly returned the salute. "No, I apologize, Lieutenant. My mind's been somewhere else this morning."
No doubt seeing his awkward response, she didn't answer right away, her eyes scanning his face. After watching him for a moment, she took a step forward and asked, "Are you alright, Colonel," as her brows knitted together with concern.
Roy instinctively took a step back, his hand subconsciously rising to grope his neck. The skin was suddenly as sensitive as it had been this morning…
Surprised by his display, she too took a step back, but continued to eye him with worry.
Keep it together, Roy, he silently berated himself. It had just been a dream, a nightmare. Riza was standing here in front of him, completely normal; completely fine…
Releasing his hold on his neck, he ran his fingers through his sweat-drenched hair and sighed. "I'll be alright," he said with a short chuckle. "It was a rough night." When she raised a brow in question, he shook his head and said, "I'll tell you about it later." Looking past her and down the hallway at a group of lower-ranking officers that were whispering under their breaths, he asked, "What's going on there," as he subtly pointed toward the crowd.
After watching them for a few moments, she turned to him and muttered, "It would seem that the Fuhrer's son has gone missing."
Roy must have looked extremely shocked because she continued by saying, "They said that it happened between ten and midnight last night. It was confirmed that there was a dried pool of blood on one of the property's walkways. Right now," she added quietly as a group of higher-ups walked by, discussing the same subject, "They are assuming the worst."
Shaking his head in disbelief, Roy muttered, "Do they have any leads?"
She shook her head defeatedly as she looked over her shoulder at the group again. "So far," she said quietly, "They don't. I was there last night around ten to drop off some documents. The security was extremely tight, so it's hard to imagine that someone had gotten in…"
"Could it be a declaration of war," he pondered. "Possibly someone that wanted their own hostage," he continued to wonder aloud, wracking his brain with a plethora of possibilities.
"I don't know," she mused as she shook her head, her attention now back on him. "If it were someone we knew, you'd think we would be informed…"
"Honestly," Roy murmured, "I wouldn't be surprised if we didn't hear anything right away, though." When she raised her brows in surprise, he elaborated, "I haven't heard from any of the men for days now, and the Elrics are practically inaccessible to us up in the North, if they're still up there. If they had anything to do with it at all, we probably wouldn't know."
She nodded thoughtfully and was about to respond, but promptly shut her mouth as another mass of gossiping soldiers walked briskly by. When they were out of earshot, she muttered, "I should get going. I was called to a meeting with the Fuhrer. Later I have to catch up on some paperwork I've been behind on. I haven't had much time to Christmas shop, so I hope catching up will give me some free time after work."
He dipped his head in understanding.
"Take care of yourself, sir."
The corner of his lip twitched upward. "You too, Lieutenant." When she brushed past him and headed in the opposite direction of him, he remained where he was for a few moments, absorbing the last words she said to him.
Christmas shopping, hm…?* It had been a while since it was she that called for a meeting at his aunt's bar. He supposed that would mean he'd be meeting her there later tonight, most likely around ten if they stuck to their usual time.
Turning to watch after her, he couldn't help but think that if it was she that called for a meeting, then it must be incredibly important…
When the Lieutenant had disappeared from view, Roy veered off of the main hallway and into the men's restroom. Discovering that it was empty, he hurried over to the mirror and rested his hands on the sink, leaning against it. Staring into his reflection, he frowned.
He didn't blame her for asking if he was alright. He looked downright awful: from the dark circles under his eyes to his disheveled, unkempt dark hair.
After critiquing his appearance for a few additional moments, Roy focused on what he really came in here for. Reaching up and hooking his finger on his jacket collar, he tugged it downward to reveal his neck.
He felt his heart stop as he pulled the collar further and further down. On his neck, mirroring what he had experienced in his 'dream,' were a series of deep purple bruises that snaked around his neck.
"You wanted to see me, sir," Riza asked as she closed the Fuhrer's office doors, standing at attention.
"Yes indeed," Fuhrer Bradley said as he rose from being seated behind his desk. Lazily making his way around it, he clasped his hands behind his back and sauntered toward her. "Tell me, Lieutenant, did you deliver documents to my home last night?"
Furrowing her brows in slight confusion, she nodded sharply and said, "I did, sir. I delivered them at twenty-two hours, just before I returned home for the night." If he had been home at all, he surely would have had them hand delivered by his wife…
As he continued to advance, she felt a sense of uneasiness wash over her, causing her to take a step backwards, only to find her back against the office's door. No… It wasn't uneasiness… It was a sort of pressure…
"And did you see my son, Selim, while you were there," he asked, stalking around her like a cat would a mouse.
"I did," she said slowly as a sense of fear began to rise within her, "Sir" she added as a quick afterthought, "I awoke him with the announcement of my presence. He… Thought it was you at the door."
He raised a brow incredulously at the statement, and then sighed. "I'll get to the point, Lieutenant. As you have probably heard," Bradley said as he took a step in her direction, "Selim went missing last night."
Connecting the situation in her head, Riza shook her head slowly, "Sir, if you are implying that I took Master Selim, please know that I would never-"
"Oh, you took something alright," the Fuhrer replied dryly as he closed the distance between them. "And we want it back…"
We? She didn't know what he wanted, what he was asking of her. All she knew was that the pressure was becoming increasingly heavier, pushing down on her and making her feel heavier every passing second. Making one last attempt to diffuse the situation, Riza said, "Sir, please understand that-"
But before she could even finish her sentence, the Fuhrer drew one of his blades and drove it through her abdomen.
Taking in a deep gulp of air, Kimblee relished the taste of iron that hung in the air. Looking at the crater he had been fighting in just moments before, he grinned sadistically.
So much ruin… So much destruction…
He absolutely loved it…
As his eyes surveyed the scene, they fell upon a bright red jacket and its owner below. Recognizing that it was the lifeless form of the Fullmetal Alchemist, he frowned to himself. They were not going to be happy about this… But, he supposed, what was done was done.
Turning on his heels, he began to make his way toward the tunnels that ran beneath the city. He had a criminal to catch…
This couldn't be happening… This couldn't be happening!
Staring down at the ground below him, Edward Elric's eyes widened in utter disbelief at the amount of blood, his blood, which poured from his wound.
With a cry of agony, his arms gave out from beneath him and crashed to the ground, sending shockwaves of pain ripping through him. He began to violently tremble, his eyes rolling back in his head.
Edward's mind instantly went into overdrive, his thoughts screaming for him to do something… Anything!?
How could you possibly come back from that? How could you possibly survive having something driven through you…?
The way he saw it at that moment, that crucial moment, was that there were only two options to make it out alive. Medical alchemy… alkehestry… He didn't know enough… Not enough to rely on it wholly.
The other option… The only option to surviving something like this… Was a Philosopher's Stone.
The moment he withdrew his blade, a shower of red sparks and blood flowed freely from the wound he inflicted on the shocked Lieutenant. Taking a step back, he watched as muscle fibers and regenerated cells shot across and began to stitch the injury closed. As the wound continued to mend itself, he took a few more steps back, feeling an overwhelming pressure suddenly displace the molecules in the air.
Beneath her feet, her shadow grew larger, splitting into small vine-like shadows. He watched as she slowly looked up, her expression of shock melting away and leaving behind a glare dripping with murderous intent. Reddened eyes narrowed dangerously toward him.**
Smiling beneath his moustache, the Fuhrer growled, "There you are Pride-"
Before he could even finish his thought, one of the shadowy tendrils that had been at her feet broke free and darted toward him. When he leapt out of the way, it shot up from the floor and grabbed at his ankle, just centimeters from making its mark.
Using the wall as a springboard, the Fuhrer pushed off from it, avoiding a flurry of black and pointed shadows that were meant to pierce him. Drawing one of his swords, he managed to deflect one of the strikes that otherwise would have penetrated his shoulder. Skidding backwards, he narrowly avoided another attack, one of the shadows slicing through his cheek.
Drawing his second blade and bracing himself for another round, Bradley faltered for a second as the assault stopped, the shadows stopping just inches from him. His guard remaining up, he looked past them and saw Pride grinning back, a hint of delight in her eyes. "Your weakness is showing," she purred as she gestured to his face, referring to the cut that was still present.
Slowly reaching up, he used the back of his hand to wipe away droplets of blood and sweat that had begun to run down his cheek. "You know," Bradley stated, "It's rude to attack family."
"Regardless, when you corner a snake does it not strike back in defense," she challenged, the smirk on her face disappearing and replacing itself with a look of displeasure as the shadows receded, moving to dance at her feet like blackened flames.
"I needed some way to speak with you," he countered. "It's difficult to do when you're wearing the Lieutenant's façade."
She narrowed her eyes in contempt and scoffed. "Unfortunately that task will now prove too difficult to continue." When the Fuhrer lifted a brow, she explained, "She's aware now. Had you left me to my devices, I could have continued undetected for a while longer."
"There is no time to 'leave you to your devices,'" Bradley growled. "Your blatant disappearance last night caused quite a stir with Father."
For the first time during their conversation she stared at him with a perplexed expression.
Raising his brows, he tauntingly asked, "Have you forgotten…?"
"I know enough," she retorted. "You are the Fuhrer President and you are one of the several identified Homunculi. "And," she added, "There are other members of the military that are involved in this 'scheme' of yours-"
Bradley chuckled darkly, cutting her off. "This 'information' you have is only drawn from the Lieutenant's memories. You have failed to tell me one thing that you should know under normal circumstances." When her glare narrowed, he continued, "It seems that, without having Father as a medium for your Philosopher's Stone, you are unable to access your memories entirely." Raising his sword and pointing the tip at her, he said, "You will come with me to see him and remedy this minor lapse."
"And if I refuse," she challenged.
Without a word, he stepped forward and then vanished. A beat later he appeared behind her, blades crossed over his chest. A smirk forming on his face, he watched as red sparks spilled from the wounds he had inflicted on her arms, neck, and face as the skin began to reform and repair itself. Before she or the shadows could react, he raised one blade, pressed it to her neck, and muttered, "You won't refuse… Because I can be very persuasive."
A/N: Like I said, we'll see where this goes! It's playing off a random dream I had turning finals week. So like I said in the beginning, I want to try and change the fates of those involved in the Promised Day (so no one's safe…) with this little AU. Next chapter, if/when I write it, will have more Edward in it, as I have plans for him. (* I'm aware that there technically isn't a Christmas in Amestris, but I couldn't resist…; **And I know that the Homunculi have violet/black eyes generally, but like I said above, reasons :P)
Again, thanks for bearing with me and hope you enjoyed!