So my internets being really finicky again so back to typing the story it is! Yet again it is raining but on the bright side it's supposed to snow on Thursday! Yeah! SNOW! And I just so happy to have that day off for Grade 10 Literacy Testing!
I do not own FMA or any of it characters. It's an unfortunate tragedy.
Intense black eyes stared into my own molten golden ones with an unwavering and almost creepy concentration. Silence stretched between me and the eyes owners, the stubbornness we both harbour refusing be the one to crack first.
Outside I can hear the quiet whispers of the other occupants of the office, the most noticeable and reoccurring comment is from Havoc. "It's quiet…is that good or bad? I mean one of them may have killed the other and we'd never know!"
I sigh at Havoc's ignorance, like I'd ever kill Mustang. Sure I may hate the man but I do hold a begrudged respect for him and know that if he ever needs the support to become Fuher I'd stand behind him with Hawkeye and the others.
"Fullmetal," Mustang sighs. "I need you on board for this."
I stare back in to the almost pleading eyes of the man I hate. "Why," I spit back, disgusted that I would be asked to do this, by him of all people.
"You know the most on the subject. You and Alphonse but, officially, I can't ask him since he is not under my command and a minor" he cautiously says.
"Like hell you're gonna mention this to my brother," I say flatly, suddenly pained by the fact that Al doesn't remember anything after we placed our hands on that damned transmutation circle when I was 11. I say nothing though, it's a sensitive subject, Al and his memories. Only Winry, Pinako, Teacher, Sig and I know, and I plan to keep it that way.
"You have my word that I won't, but legally, I can't either."
I nod, "Good, he doesn't need to be dragged into something like this." We stare at each other for a moment longer. "If I help you with this, what would it entail?"
The Colonel smirks, "We'd travel to the town where the transmutation was performed. Observe the results and the state of the alchemist, after that it all depends on how dire the situation is."
I nod, understand. "Fine, when do we leave?"
He looks at the clock that hangs on the wall. "Officially we were supposed to leave ten minutes ago…"
Had we really been sitting in silence for that long? Deciding not to voice the question I opt for sarcasm. "That's because you take so long to read, Bastard."
"I do not," he defends. "You just read too fast!"
I scoff, "My reading is the acceptable speed, you just take your dear-sweet time. Doesn't surprise me though, I always thought you were a little slow, this only confirms my suspicions."
"Don't push it, brat," he growls. "I could court-martial your pipsqueak ass."
"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL A SNEEZE WOULD BE A DEVASTATING AND LIFE THREATENING THUNDERSTORM!"
We continue out of the office, our usual banter continuing and gaining us many glares from other officers we pass.
We sit silently in the car; the silence would be awkward if it were anybody other than Mustang but it's comfortable. I didn't exactly pin Mustang for a conversationalist and my instincts were right. Either way, if he did attempt to start a conversation, it wouldn't really work, I'm not what you'd call a chatter.
We pull up outside a dingy warehouse and hour and a half later. I whistle as I scope the place out. "Rule number One, it's best to be sneaky. A warehouse is not sneaky…its like putting a neon sign saying 'look! I'm doing something illegal!'" I mutter.
Mustang snorts at my commentary but doesn't say anything as he pulls on his ignition gloves and saunters towards the front door.
Rolling my eyes I opt not to follow him and climb through a window, not caring if he disapproves of my "insubordination" and "reckless behavior". Pfft, reckless my ass. Reckless is going through the front door, it automatically alerts those inside and leaves room for attacks.
I jump from the window and roll to my feet when I hit the floor, trying to survey my surroundings in the afternoon light. The only window in the room is the one I climbed through so there's only a small ray of light.
I creep through the door into a poorly lit, windowless hallway. The door from the room I was previously in slams shut and something clicks, presumably the lock.
I move forward silently on mismatch feet, checking each door as I go. I'm almost at the end of the hallway when I find an unlocked door. As it swings open the smell of rotting flesh hits me like a sledgehammer.
Staggering, I enter the room and nearly puke. In the middle of the room is a corpse, but that's not what hits me hard. It's what's surrounding it. A transmutation circle. A Human transmutation circle.
My gaze flicks around the room until it comes to rest on a body and a few feet away, what I can only assume, is it's dismembered head. Both legs and a large chunk of the body's torso is missing, resulting in a bloody mess of internal organs spilling slightly from the hole.
The transmutation circle is calling my attention again though, as it the disgusting, crippled and burnt mess lying pitifully in the middle of it.
My knees buckle as my mind flashes back to performing human transmutation on this day. I clutch my head as the agony of my guilt hits me full force.
The thing that was our mother reaching it bony, withered hand towards me, practically begging me to end its suffering.
Alphonse. Alphonse crying out in pain as his body is being taken from him. His large brown eyes, pleading and a hand reaching towards me as he calls for me to help him.
The pure burning agony of my leg being ripped apart and taken from me, the memory causes me to clutch my leg in remembrance. The image of the Gate and Truth come at me and then the pain of having knowledge shoved unwillingly into my head.
I know I'm hyperventilating but I can't control my breathing. The fact that it's that day, coupled with the scene before me is too much. My control snaps and I shriek at the agony that's ripping my body, mind and soul apart.
The feeling of ruff hands on my shoulders causes me to lash out and shove at the owner of the hands
Dimly I hear a harsh voice above my own sobbing but it barely registers in my mind. All I can focus on is the sorrow and pain the courses through me. It's too much; at this moment life doesn't seem worth living.
I can't though; I can't give in to such thoughts. I have Al to look after and it terrifies me to think about what may happen to him if I were gone.
The voice is back again, speaking softly this time, trying to get me to calm down and answer but my breathing is still beyond my control as are my reactions.
Slowly and tentatively hands wrap around my wrist and pry them away from my head. I keep my head down as tears stream their way down my face.
One of the hands cautiously cups my chin and lifts my face upward. Usually cold black eyes are wide with fear and concern. The round Xingense face is pale with horror at the room, and probably my unusual display of emotional weakness.
"I-I'm fine," I sputter out, looking away from the dark, searching eyes in a vain attempt to regain some of my pride.
He eyes me suspiciously but only nods. "Yeah," he sighs, running a hand through his raven hair. "Let's get out of here. We have enough to go on to report what we found."
I nod as I get to my feet unsteadily. I stumble my way out of the room when I feel Mustang's gloved hand grip my elbow, steadying me.
"Come'on Fullmetal, this way," he says, leading me to the front door and out to the car.
The silence in the car is no longer comfortable, now strained by the events that occurred at the warehouse.
Mustang's said nothing which surprises me and doesn't all at the same time. He, of all people, probably understands my inner demons for he has his own that taunt and torment him.
I lean my head against the cold window and watch as the late fall sun falls to the horizon. Nights come early now that winter has decided to creep up on us.
Suddenly the car jerks to the right, slamming me against the window. I make to yell at Mustang when something strikes us in the front. I jerk forward at the sudden impact, slamming my chest and head against the dashboard.
Pain sparks in my body and my voice dies in my throat as, yet again, we're slammed in the side. This time with enough force that the car spirals off the road and slips into the ditch.
Blood roars in my ears and faintly I hear the Colonel groan and weakly mutter my name. It doesn't keep me grounded to consciousness though, the world darkens and I'm lost to it.
When I regain consciousness I'm barely aware of where I am or what happened. The it rushes in, an ungraceful heap information.
I groan in pain and annoyance. "Edward?"
I flinch at the sudden noise and jerk my head towards the sound, instantly regretting it as pain and nausea careens through my head. I groan again.
"Edward," the voice urges more desperately. "Damn it Fullmetal! Fucking answer me for god's sake!"
"Wha' do ya' wan' Bastard," I slur.
"Keep talking Fullmetal, I need you to stay conscious."
I sigh as my head spins but I agree without argument. "Talk 'bout wha'?"
A thoughtful silence then he answer, "Anything. Whatever's on your mind right now."
"I miss Alphonse, I shouldn't have sent him to Risembol." The words slip through my lips without my consent but I find myself angered at my current lack of control.
Another silence before Mustang answers cautiously. "Then why did you send him…?"
"I-I don' know…I geuss I didn' wan' 'im to see me li'e this," I snort. "Fat lo' of 'ood tha' did."
"I don't follow Edward," genuine confusion is laced in his voice.
"'Coarse ya' don' Bastard. To'ay's the day we per'ormed 'uman trans'utation. I di'n't wan' Al to see me as we'k," I mentally curse at myself. Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid. Why the hell am I spilling this to Colonel Bastard of all bloody people.
"I don't understand, it's never mattered before. Why now?"
I know he's just trying to keep my attention and he's also genuinely interested but I'd rather not divulge into this information. But, as I realized earlier, my rational mind has decided to take a hike, probably thanks to those bangs it received earlier.
"Wh'n Al got 'is body 'ack, he lo't 'is memories," I find myself saying. "He doe'n't remem'er wha' happen'd aft'r an' all 'hose years we s'arched fo' the stone."
Silence.
"So…Alphonse doesn't remember anything?" A tentative question.
I merely nod, not trusting myself to answer.
"Why didn't you say anything…" Hurt. It's laced in his voice and I feel terrible knowing that I'm the one that put it there. All those times Mustang was there to help us and I've never told him anything.
I don't answer again, I don't need to.
"Who knows…Obviously you, Winry and Mrs. Rockbell do, but who else?"
"Teacher and Sig," I answer slowly. "Al wan'ed to train 'is agai' so he wen' to teacher for a'hile."
Silence settles over us for a while and I struggle to remain conscious.
"Thank you for telling me Ed," I hear a softly spoken thanks.
Then everything is pitched into darkness and I'm faintly aware of a voice calling me.
Well obviously I needed an scene with just Ed and Mustang! This isn't yaoi though, I could never write yaio...
Enjoy!
~Twink
