The three soldiers stood paralyzed; filled by guilt, horror, and denial. There was no blood, no sound but the soft thunder and pat of tiny orbs of hail tinkering on broken glass. None of them knew whether to cry, scream, or walk away. Another less pronounced issue that crossed all of them for a brief moment: how were they going to get back?
Staring at the empty space of the infinite length of the tracks Mustang felt the most guilt and dread. He had been so close to getting him out; he had touched Ed's fingertips before the train could take him away. He had gotten the closest look at the sheer terror in Ed's eyes that penetrated his soul giving him a feeling of hopelessness immeasurable. He could have saved him… Couldn't he?
The hail began to thin out for the rain again and it continued to soak the trio with… sorrow; and tears of the sky, instead of their own, running down their faces.
"So what now?" Havoc rasped, his throat choking on what felt to him like a scream. "Do we go home?"
"In what, Havoc? We're stranded." Riza snapped; she was shivering.
Mustang looked over at her and saw her trembling, trauma or the cold, no matter. He removed his coat, though no dryer than her own and more than likely, no warmer, and draped it over her shoulders.
"Sir, no, you need it," She began to pull the coat off of her but Mustang raised his hand in objection. She relaxed then, grateful for the extra cover and nodded and Mustang turned and began to walk up the road. The two Lieutenants followed faithfully, fighting to not think about what they were leaving behind.
He stumbled clumsily, spitting blood on one of the endless amount of planks stretched out before him. He gazed wearily over his shoulder at the same scene behind him, plus a few trees, and sighed unevenly. The air scratched at the inside of his lungs, bruised no doubt… few broken ribs maybe… There was no telling where the source of his pain was- somewhere in his core, he was sure.
Unexpectedly, Ed's flesh knee gave out and his dizziness prevented a steady save with his highly damaged automail leg. Damn. He caught himself on his automail hand and slowly twisted himself into a sitting position in the middle of the tracks. "I better be going the right way."
He sighed. "Hmph, those jerks probably aren't even looking for me, prob'ly think I'm dead." Ed started to come to his feet, "Mustang's probably relieved that his finances have shrunk 'immensely' now. I wonder what they'll tell Alphonse… Huh, knowing the military they'll probably find some clever cover up so it doesn't sound like Havoc's fault. Why did he take that short cut anyway? It felt like it was taking us longer to me…" Ed continued to ramble to keep consciousness in a secure grasp and to motivate his movement despite the ache in his chest and being winded by his efforts.
His whole body throbbed in agony so that he bit his lip through it all and kept talking until there was nothing left to say. At that point in time, Ed brought himself to a steady pace in breath and steps, and opened up to the loneliness of the field around him- held himself as tall as his pain would allow and carried himself bravely into the dusk, bracing himself for a long, torturous night.
"There's lights…" Havoc pointed to a small glow in the distance. "We made it."
Mustang nodded but didn't say a word. In fact, he hadn't said a word since the accident. Perhaps he was contemplating the fact that Ed was gone and Al was alone, or that maybe there was a chance that he was alive. Riza still didn't say much either; she simply disagreed with Havoc's attempt at small talk and kept walking.
The walk to the town was awkward, long, and a bit too quiet for Havoc. His strategy too move forward from something like the accident was to change the subject, forget about it, and move on. Unfortunately, for him, Mustang was the kind to dwell on the positives of the person at loss and find a way to secure his mind around the fact that they were gone and make it all seem okay. Therefore, he remained quiet; Riza following his example, left Havoc as the only one that wanted to talk.
Finally, after stumbling around in the mud and rain in that empty silence, they walked into the blinding haze of light in the town, decorated by desolate roads and sleeping houses.
"Where did you plan on staying the night, sir?" Riza turned to Mustang, who stared out at the emptiness of the street.
He shrugged, "How 'bout here?" He turned and walked around Havoc and headed into a town inn.
"Excellent observation, sir." Riza smiled lightly agreeing and followed him in, Havoc close behind.
The lobby was just as empty as the road. It was a small closed wooden room scarcely filled with a short counter (front desk), shelving behind the front desk and three or four table chairs under a window across from the counter. Sitting on the desk with a mug of pens and a book was a small silver bell; Mustang reached over and rang it.
It remained quiet for a moment.
Then a figure appeared in the door arch to the left of the front desk. "I suppose you're here to inspect our home… or perhaps to evict us?" The figure stepped into the lobby crossing to a large fireplace to light it. In the new brightness of the flame, they could better see the person who addressed them. It was a tall slender young woman wrapped in a long white robe. She had long dark brown hair that came to the middle of her back and when she turned, they saw that she had red eyes and her face was tan.
"Come, that's no way to welcome guests." The raspy voice of an aged woman averted their eyes from the Ishbalan woman to the archway. There stood a crooked old woman with kind blue eyes and fragile pale skin beneath short silver curls on her head; she was wearing a real nightgown and held a cane. "I apologize for my daughter's crude welcome. You look tiered," She giggled, "And you're wet. Please, come and make yourselves at home."
"Mom!" The Ishbalan girl stepped forward in objection but was cut off by her mother's raised hand.
"Evictors wouldn't have walked all this way in the mud and the rain to bother our little business."
The girl lowered her head to her right shoulder, "Yeah, unless their master told them it'd be a paycheck bonus."
"Sequoya! How could you speak such nonsense?!"
"It's possible!"
"Don't argue! Now, if you three will come with me, I'll show you to your rooms."
They nodded and followed the woman down a stretch of pale white hallway with small wooden doors on both sides every nine feet or so.
"I hope these will suit your tastes for one night." The woman referred to three doors on the left side of the hall.
"These will do, thank you." Mustang opened one of the doors and looked around the room. There was a bed, a dresser, and an opening that more than likely lead to a bathroom.
Riza nodded looking in another, "Yes, thank you. We really appreciate your hospitality."
"Breakfast will be at 8 am and will run till nine. Doubt you'll be up then, but just so you know. The nearest meal after that is at 11 to 12; lunch of course. Sleep well." The elderly woman bowed and headed back down the hall to bed.
"You better only stay one night." Sequoya glowered and entered a room across the hall from the one Mustang chose.
"Sleep well." Mustang gestured goodnight and shut his door. Sequoya stuck her middle finger up at his closed door, glared at the other two, and went in her room and locked her door.
Havoc turned to Riza who was heading into her room. 'This will be interesting' was all she said before her door closed. Havoc did the same and he fell quickly to sleep.
Riza took a quick shower and headed off to bed as well.
Mustang however, stayed awake, thinking for a while, before letting himself drift into a slumber most adored by his exhausted body.
The next morning Mustang woke to the sound of yelling outside his room. He rose slowly and crossed the room, opening his door to peer into the hall. Just as he did, he watched in tired amazement at Havoc getting chased a short distance past his door. He was stumbling backwards barely maintaining his footing while trying to avoid the wrath of his muddy boot in Sequoya's hand.
"You filthy dogs drug mud into our house! You know how much we pay the maids to sweep dust off our floors and you track in mud! AH!!!"
Just then, Havoc tripped, falling backwards. Sequoya raised the shoe above her head preparing to strike; Havoc winced.
Mustang swiftly, and surprisingly gracefully, swooped in behind her and grabbed the boot, slipping it out of her falling hands. She stopped mid swing and flipped around to face Mustang inches from her. She screamed, slapped him and stormed down the hall disappearing.
"Ow." Mustang tossed Havoc's boot to him and rubbed his cheek.
"Sir, are you alright." Riza stepped over to him from her open door.
"Yeah." He looked down at Havoc. "You owe me."
Havoc's head dropped between his shoulders before he stood, trailing after Riza to head to breakfast- according to Mustang, it was only 8:30.
As they entered the café, Sequoya re-approached them, eyes harsh and head low. She stopped in front of them and crossed her arms over her chest, refusing to look them in the eyes. "I'm… sorry." She spat the words as though they were diseased and glared up at Mustang.
Mustang smiled. "It didn't hurt too badly, you're forgiven."
She spun on her heel once he had spoken and slipped around behind the serving counter. Mustang held his smile.
"Sir?" Riza looked at him mildly confused.
"Such a child." He shook his head in humor and sauntered over to the counter.