Red Roses2: A little over eleven pages, yay!
Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist. It belongs to Hiromu Arakawa.
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Rain poured down in sheets. Colonel Roy Mustang groaned as he stepped out of the train car. First Lieutenant Hawkeye, Second Lieutenant Havoc, and Lieutenant Colonel Hughes filed out behind him, Hawkeye opening an umbrella.
"Here, sir," she said, holding it out. Mustang accepted the cover it gave and looked at Hughes.
"You're sure the call was from Xenotime?"
"Yep," Hughes replied. "I even checked the records in Aquroya to make sure the boys did travel here."
Mustang looked out at the town below them, at the single green hill with a mansion sitting atop it, at the now-muddy shut-down gold mines, at the darkened houses.
"According to that Belsio guy," Havoc said, "Ed and Al are staying in a house close to the pharmacy." Havoc motioned to take a cigarette out, but he scowled as he remembered the rain.
"Then let's go," Mustang said, leading the way down the muddy path.
~!#$%^&*()_+
The door opened, and a frightened, worried little girl threw herself at Hughes's leg.
"You're here to help find Al's brother, right?" she cried, her tiny hands fisting Hughes's pant leg.
The military personnels' eyebrows shot up.
"What?" Hughes said. The four looked up from the girl as a man appeared in the doorway.
"Elysa, let the soldiers come in," said the man, pulling the girl back. The man moved out of the doorway, and the soldiers trooped in.
"I thought you called us about a couple of imposters and you didn't know who was who," Mustang said, scanning the room. Rain hit the windows, and drops of water kept dripping into a bucket on the floor.
"Yes, but a couple hours after we called, the one calling himself Edward Elric disappeared. Al is really worried."
"Where is Al?" Hawkeye asked.
Clang, clang, clang, and the suit of armor entered the room.
"Colonel! Lieutenant Colonel Hughes! Hawkeye and Havoc! Thank goodness! I've looked all over, and I can't find Ed, and he's really ill with a bad cough and fever and I'm really worried!"
"Calm down, Al," Hawkeye said, placing a hand on his bicep. "Freaking out isn't going to help."
Hughes rested his chin on his thumb, his index finger pressing against his lip.
"Well, now we know that the imposters are the ones in the mansion," said Hughes. "But that doesn't tell us where Ed is."
"You said he was sick?" Mustang asked. Al nodded. Mustang and Hughes shared a look. "How sick?"
"Couldn't walk straight or stay awake very long sick," Elysa said. She bit her lip. "He seemed to be getting worse the longer he stayed."
"So it's not possible he wandered off on his own," Hughes deadpanned.
"Not without anyone knowing," said Elysa's father.
Hughes locked eyes with Mustang, and they nodded.
"Hawkeye and I will look here for evidence. You and Havoc go confront the imposters," Hughes said.
"Right. Let's go, Havoc."
Mustang took the umbrella from Hawkeye, and he and Havoc trekked back into the downpour.
~!#$%^&*()_+
Flash! Hawkeye took the photo the camera produced and waved it, the picture appearing in place of a gray square. Hughes knelt next to the bed, humming thoughtfully.
"Hawkeye, come look at this."
She peered over his shoulder. Her eyes widened.
"A shoe print?"
"It's too small to be Ed's, especially since it's a right shoe."
"I thought his automail was built to be the same size as his real foot."
Hughes shook his head.
"Winry probably meant it to be, but it's a few centimeters longer. It's also wider. The military supplies him with custom made shoes because of it." Hughes took the camera from Hawkeye and snapped a picture. He handed it back to her and touched the print. Bringing his fingers to his face, he squinted at it the blood red hue. "What is this?"
"Blood?"
"No. Not thick enough." He sniffed his fingers. "Not wine, either." Hughes looked over his shoulder at Hawkeye. "Go find out if they'd mind if we tore this piece of carpet up for evidence."
"Yes, sir."
Hawkeye crossed the room, and her retreating footsteps echoed up the staircase. Hughes narrowed his eyes at the footprint. Judging from the size, the owner of this print shouldn't have been able to carry Ed. . . . Even a grown man would have had difficulty lifting Ed what with his automail. His arm alone gave Ed five or so extra pounds. When assessments came around, Ed almost broke the scales every time.
Hawkeye came back, closing the door behind her.
"We have permission."
"Good." Hughes unsheathed a knife and dug into the carpet. "Because I was going to have to do it anyway."
~!#$%^&*()_+
Bong! Bong! Bong!
Havoc raised an eyebrow at the mansion.
"That's . . . ominous." Havoc said.
Mustang nodded.
"Get your gun out."
"Right ahead of you." Chi-chok. Mustang smirked. Havoc pointed the barrel at the air, and they waited for the door to open.
The front door opened a crack, and bullets bombarded them.
Mustang snapped his fingers, creating a fire wall between them. Havoc pressed himself against Mustang's back, a bullet grazing his cheek.
"Remind me to thank Hawkeye for the umbrella," Mustang chuckled. Havoc smirked. "Imposters of Edward and Alphonse Elric! We know you're here! So come on out!"
Bang! And the flames died.
Havoc sighed. "They closed the door."
"What kind of gun do you think that was?" Mustang asked.
"Hawkeye's the expert, but it's not one I've ever seen."
Mustang frowned.
Let's regroup with Hughes and Hawkeye."
Havoc nodded and put his gun back into its holster.
~!#$%^&*()_+
The shorter imposter poked his head into the lab. The taller one and a fat, gray-haired man darted this way and that, grabbing everything and putting it into boxes.
"Brother?" the shorter imposter said. The taller one spared a short glance at him.
"Fletcher, get everything together. The military's here."
Fletcher gasped. "Wh-what?"
"The real ones probably called them. Mugiar and I have the research covered. You get our stuff packed, okay?"
"Um, right."
Fletcher stumbled away from the door and hurried down the hall, leaving a trail of blood behind him.
~!#$%^&*()_+
Hughes, Hawkeye, and Al studied the evidence. The footprint and pictures of the window sill. In the pictures were close-ups of the window sill, scuffed up and covered in a plant not native to the area – just looking at the town from afar was enough to confirm that.
"Al, tell me if this makes sense," Hughes said. He pointed at the footprint. "Someone of at least short stature, if not a child, crept into Ed's room using a vine, examined the area, maybe tried to pick Ed up himself, realized he couldn't do it, used alchemy to make the vine lift him through the window, and somehow carted Ed off."
Al nodded. "That makes sense. But who would do that and why?"
Hughes sighed. "That's what I can't figure out. It might be the imposters, but I can't think of a motive." Hughes ran a hand through his hair.
"What if they wanted to kill him?" Hawkeye asked. Hughes shook his head.
"They could have used the plant to strangle him. Maybe they wanted a hostage for when we showed up?"
The front door banged open, and Mustang and Havoc walked in, Mustang shaking the umbrella. Havoc took out a cigarette and stuffed it between his lips.
"How was it?" Hawkeye asked.
"They shot at us," Havoc said. "We're going to need a plan."
"What about you?" Mustang asked.
"Our main suspects are the imposters, but we won't know for sure until we find out whether or not one of them specializes in botanic alchemy."
"So what now?" Hawkeye said.
~!#$%^&*()_+
Al ran at the door, threw his shoulder into it, and rammed it open. The mansion door hit the wall, the echo traveling down the hall. Only the patter of rain filled the eerie silence. The soldiers walked in after him, Mustang with his gloves, Havoc and Hawkeye with their guns, and Hughes with his knives.
"Hello?" Mustang called out.
"Anybody here?" Havoc added.
Hughes furrowed his eyebrows. The lights flickered dimly . . . and the scent of blood hung in the air.
The group walked down the hall, peeking into every room they passed. No one.
"Elric imposters? Mugiar? Anybody?" Havoc called.
No response.
Hawkeye stepped in front of a door. As it creaked open, she whipped around and pointed her gun right between the eyes of a young man.
The taller imposters stepped back and held up his hands. His breathing was erratic, and fear shone in his eyes. The front of his shirt was splattered with blood.
"Who are you?" Hawkeye demanded.
The young man swallowed hard.
"R-Russell Trigham. I – I work here. But . . . ." He stumbled out of the room he emerged from. He pointed inside. Hawkeye peered in, and her eyes widened at the sight. In the small amount of light the room still possessed, there lay the dead body of an older male, a black sword shoved right through his chest and sticking out the back. A puddle of blood grew around the corpse. "Mugiar . . . my employer. He – he tried to kill me. I didn't – I didn't mean to do it. He gave me no . . . ." Russell's eyes widened as he gasped. "Fletcher!" He started to run down the hall, but Al grabbed his arms. "FLETCHER!"
"Where's my brother?" Al shouted but Russell didn't pay him any mind.
"FLETCHER! WHERE ARE YOU? FLETCHER!"
Mustang pulled Russell out of Al's grip and forced him to look at him.
"Who is Fletcher?" Mustang interrogated.
"My little brother! FLETCHER!"
"Why have you two been pretending to be the Elric brothers?"
Tears sprung to Russell's eyes.
"I needed a damn good reason for Mugiar to hire me. Saying I was the Fullmetal Alchemist was my only option. Fletcher didn't want to lie. But we both wanted to carry on Dad's research."
"What research was that?"
Russell shook his head.
"We have to find Fletcher! What if Mugiar got one of his guards to hurt him? He can't fight for himself – he doesn't know how!"
Mustang sighed, realizing they'd get nothing more out of him. Right then.
"Okay. We'll find your brother. Just answer one more question."
Russell focused his eyes on Mustang instead of the dark hall behind him. Mustang looked back at him, hard.
"Did you kidnap Edward Elric?"
He took a moment to process the question, then Russell shook his head.
"I haven't seen him since he broke in a couple days ago. He was sick as a dog, but tried to confront us anyway."
Mustang locked eyes with Hughes and nodded. He then looked back at Russell.
"All right. Let's find Fletcher."
Russell relaxed somewhat, and the group searched the entire building. It felt like they searched for hours, Russell and Al shouting for their respective brothers. They searched every room, every hall, every closet, every staircase. Every single one of those places was empty, empty, empty, empty. Not a single person seemed to be left in the building.
Until Russell led them to a secret compartment.
Russell threw back the concealed door, revealing a staircase and a cloth bag.
"What?" Havoc said, accompanied by Hughes's and Al's "Huh?"
"Where's it lead?" Hawkeye asked.
Russell picked up the cloth bag, pulled out air-filter masks, and tossed one to each of them, slipping one on himself.
"To the fountain of Red Water we work with," Russell muttered absentmindedly, and he traveled down the stairs. Mustang's eyes widened, and he hesitated to follow. Al hurried behind Russell, yelling for Ed all the way. Hughes and Havoc kept close behind him. Hawkeye stepped on the top step and looked back at Mustang, waiting. Mustang narrowed his eyes and hurried after them.
"FLETCHER!"
"EDWARD!"
Down, down they went, the air becoming denser and heavy with red vapor. Hughes gasped as he recognized it. This color – it was the same color as the footprint! But what did that mean? Did that mean this Fletcher kidnapped Ed? Was Russell faking his shock? Hughes doubted it, but the story kept making no sense.
"EDWARD!"
"FLETCHER!"
The sound of rushing water met their ears like a waterfall breaking from a dam, and the stairs ended on a ledge. Russell ran along the ledge with expertise, and he left Al and the others behind.
"FLETCHER!"
They followed Russell's screams as they walked as though on a tightrope.
"Don't fall in the water," Mustang said, his voice reverberating against the walls. "It'll poison you, starting with eating away at your skin."
Havoc gulped.
Finally, they reached the point where the ledge widened. Hughes, Havoc, Mustang and Hawkeye all sighed in relief. It took them a moment to realize Russell had stopped yelling.
Through the haze of red vapor, they could see Russell's back, his frame stock still. They stepped next to him and beheld the garish sight before him.
Fletcher sat huddled, his arms holding onto something wrapped in a bloodstained white cloth. His eyes wide in horror, but his voice strangely silent. He didn't look up or acknowledge them in any way. He merely stared at the transmutation circle he sat in.
"Fletcher?" Russell whispered.
Slowly, the younger Trigham looked up, tears sparkling in his eyes.
"Are you okay?"
Fletcher moved one leg, then the other, and steadily brought himself to his full height. He gripped the bloodstained white cloth tighter. A wretched, pained gasp escaped it. Everyone's eyes widened. Al gasped as well. Why was that sound familiar?
"A – Alphonse?" Fletcher said, his voice small, timid. Numb.
Al faltered.
"What?"
Fletcher stepped towards Al, tightening his hold on the bundle. That horrid sound came from it again. Al stepped back from him.
". . . Take your helmet off." Fletcher said.
Al repeated himself, but more alarmed.
"Take your helmet off. I – I promised . . . your brother . . . ."
Al sucked in breath he didn't need.
"My brother? Where is he!?"
Fletcher's face tightened, as did his grip, and the bundle made that sound again.
"Take the helmet off!"
The kid did seem to be in some state of shock. Maybe he really did know where Ed was! Al, encouraged by the chance to know what happened to Ed, actually did as Fletcher said without a second thought.
"Alphonse!" Mustang scolded, surprise creeping into his tone.
Russell stumbled backwards, gasping and pointing at Al.
"Where – where's your body!?" Russell demanded – but Fletcher didn't react at all.
It was like he had expected it.
Hughes watched Fletcher, drawn to the ever-growing mystery that was pouring in around them. What was he doing? Did he really know where Ed was? Was he the one who kidnapped him? What had he wanted with Ed? Or was he trying to help Ed? After all, they didn't know how many people were working down here. Maybe there were other, older alchemists working with Mugiar, too. The biggest mystery, however, was what the hell was in the bundle?
Fletcher stepped closer to Al, until he stood right in front of him.
"Kneel down."
Al hesitated.
"If I do, will you tell me where Ed is?"
Fletcher made a strangled noise and jerked his head in a way that technically could be categorized as a nod but not really recognized as one. Al took that as a good-enough answer and knelt down.
Hawkeye cocked her gun.
Fletcher climbed up Al, hoisting the bundle up ahead of him.
"What are you doing?" Al asked, nervousness crawling into him. Fletcher didn't answer. He reached the top of Al's armor – the hole the absence of helmet made – and began to stuff the bundle in Al.
The bundle shrieked in pain, the noise unearthly, alien.
Al stood up, unsettling Fletcher, who grabbed onto the spikes on Al's armor for support.
"What are you doing!?"
Havoc and Hawkeye lifted their guns and aimed at Fletcher. Russell shook with fear.
"Don't hurt him!" Russell begged.
"What's he doing?" Havoc demanded, sending a small glare at Russell. Russell's mouth turned into a thin line, quivering in terror.
"I – I don't know!"
Fletcher struggled to hold on and push the bundle in, but Al's flailing about actually made it slip in much easier. It screeched as it hit the bottom of Al's torso with a thud. Fletcher purposely cut his fingers on one of Al's spikes, managed to lean into Al's armor, and pressed his fingers onto the transmutation circle – on Ed's dried blood.
"Don't touch that!"
Hawkeye and Havoc prepped the trigger, but much too late. Light shone from the bowels of Al's armor, the bundle's screams echoing through the cavern.
When it died down, Al threw Fletcher across the cavern, letting loose screams of his own. Fletcher fell to his knees, the tears in his eyes finally breaking loose from their dams. Blood seeped through the plates of Al's armor.
"What did you do!? What did you do to me!?" Al screamed, unable to identify the dead body now sitting in his armor.
Fletcher sobbed quietly, incapable of tearing his eyes away from the blood staining Al's armor. Hawkeye and Havoc lowered their guns. None of the onlookers knew what to do. Al ripped his breast plate off, and out fell the bundle. The white cloth fell off its face – and what a face it was. Ashen skin, violet eyes, sunken skin that wasn't all there. It looked just like the mistake Ed and Al had created when they tried to bring back their mother . . . except for one thing.
Its hair was golden blond, that beautiful shade that Al only knew his brother to possess.
All the feeling disappeared from Al. A feeling of unreality overcame him. No. It couldn't be.
"Where's Ed?" Al said. Not a question, but not quite a demand. More like a prayer.
Fletcher moved his eyes to the transmutation circle imprinted inside Al's armor – it a new, brighter shade of red. Fletcher reached out a trembling hand, and pointed at the corpse at Al's feet.
"No." He wouldn't believe it. "Where is he?"
Fletcher pointed again.
"Where is he!?"
All he did was point at the corpse.
"WHERE IS MY BROTHER!?"
Actual words caught in Fletcher's throat, but he choked them out, word by word.
"He's – dead – Alphonse."
No. No. No, no, no no no!
"NO!"
Al fell to his knees, finally taking a good look at the corpse. Hesitantly, he reached out and pulled the white cloth off it. Havoc made a strangling sound, and Hawkeye covered her mouth.
"Mother of God," Hughes gasped. Mustang's expression drew further in.
Al touched it, not believing what Fletcher or his senses told him. Not that he could really feel it, but touching a human body always gave him a sense that he could feel. He ran his hand over the right arm, and metal crumbled between his fingers. He kept repeating the word "no" over and over and over again. He touched the left leg, and metal crumbled under his touch. No, no, no, no. He trailed his hand up to its face, not wanting to believe that it used to be his brother's.
"NO!" Al grabbed the body and tossed it across the cavern. It hit the Red Water with a resounding SPLASH and was swept away by the current. Hughes cursed under his breath and ran after it, Mustang chasing after him. "THAT'S NOT MY BROTHER! WHERE IS HE!? WHERE'S MY BROTHER!?"
Mustang snapped his fingers, and all of the Red Water evaporated. Hughes jumped down into the river bed and pulled the corpse out of it. He laid it down on the bank and took out his knife. Using it as a ruler, he pressed it against the bottom of its remaining foot. He then measured other parts of the body – that was recognizable as a body part, at least. He closed his eyes as he resheathed it.
"Roy," Hughes said. Mustang looked up from the corpse at him, dread burrowing in his heart. Hughes looked Mustang in the eye. "I know you thought of him like family but . . . . I'm sorry."
Mustang lowered his head, his fears confirmed.
"It really is Ed."