He really needed this day off.
The weeks had blurred into each other ever since the news of his partner's murder, and he had floated through them with only a minimal degree of awareness. Oddly enough, everything seemed to stop mattering too much the moment he read the headline announcing the death of Maria Ross—the "convicted criminal."
The morning began when he was scooped out of his dreams—for once, blissfully free of the images of charred bodies and towering flames that had followed him through the last several months—by the sound of his youngest sister's voice.
"Brother! Get up, brother! It's time for you to wake up, Denny!"
Unsticking his eyelids from each other, he swam into consciousness.
"Uugh, I'mupalready," he groaned, reaching for the alarm clock.
"Whatime is it?"
His sister's round, pig-tailed face bounced in front of him, and she poked her short fingers into his side. She was the only person in the house who still treated him like the old Denny.
"You have to get up now!" she insisted. "And hurry up or you're gonna miss it!"
He turned his head towards her and blinked in confusion.
"What am I missing…other than sleep?"
"The solar eclipse!"
Oh, right. That's important…I guess.
"The solar eclipse? Oh, man," he groaned, and pulled himself out of his comfortable bed to a sitting position.
"It's not as late as you think it is. I've got plenty of time to sleep before it starts."
Glancing over at the window, Denny saw with alarm that one of his younger brothers was aiming a handheld telescope directly at the rising sun.
"Hey, don't look at the sun, you'll blind yourself!"
"I'm not stupid, Denny," the kid retorted. He adjusted the telescope, but then suddenly went tense.
"Hey quick, come check this out—it looks like there's a building on fire!"
Denny scrambled out of bed and took the telescope from his sibling. One glance was enough to tell him the eclipse obviously wasn't the only exciting thing happening in the city. His still blurry vision picked up immediately on the black plumes of smoke, and he heard the echoing rumble of explosions. Squinting, he tried to assess where the heart of the commotion was located.
Central Command?!
His eyes flew all the way open.
"Do not go outside the house today, all right?!"
Throwing himself into his uniform, Denny slammed the door behind him and left two very confused siblings in his wake.
The streets were mostly devoid of activity, but Denny could hear the rhythmic tread of military boots several streets over, zeroing in on the conflict at the center of the city. Angling his own path in that direction, he passed a group of soldiers gathered near a military medical truck. Spotting a shiny head with a familiar curl of blond hair, Denny vaulted the roadblock and called out:
"Hey, major! Major Armstrong!"
The huge officer turned to look at him, obviously surprised.
"What are you doing here, sergeant? Isn't this supposed to be your day off?"
Brushing off his inquiry, Denny turned back to look at where the columns of smoke continued to rise.
"I saw the smoke from my house. What's going on down here, major?"
"Colonel Mustang and his former subordinates have chosen a path of dissidence. They're attempting to flee with the Fuhrer's wife as their hostage."
"What?!"
Denny felt his blood boil. The mere mention of Mustang's name brought to the surface all the confusion and rage associated with his partner's murder. Armstrong stared at him in some alarm as he began to shout:
"That devious coward! First he murdered Lieutenant Ross and now he's kidnapped the Fuhrer's wife? The man has got to be pure evil!"
Filled with resolve to bring order back to Central, and maybe dismember Colonel Mustang while he was at it, Denny took off running, leaving the major staring after him.
A few blocks later, he saw a gaggle of civilians gathered at an outdoor café, all with their ears pressed to the radio. Slowing, he approached them in hopes of hearing something that would tell him a bit more about what Mustang's plan of action seemed to be.
At once, he heard the voice of Mrs. Bradley crackling through the device, revealing that she had lost total contact with her son and husband. He stepped closer as it was revealed that Fuhrer Bradley's train had been blown up, and that a conspiracy in the highest ranks of the military had led to the current violence in the city.
The announcer's voice on the radio took over: "To continue with our story, we now have an exclusive message from one of Colonel Mustang's men."
Denny tried to shake off the shock of hearing about such a colossal conspiracy. Mustang wasn't behind the coup? Maybe someone working under the colonel would shed some light on what exactly was going on. He listened closely to the new voice coming through the speakers:
"Those of us giving our support to Colonel Mustang may be few in number, but that won't stop us from protecting the legacy of the Fuhrer."
Denny's mouth dropped open, and every muscle in his body tensed.
"That…voice!"
"We'll do everything we can to stop these traitors in the name of justice!"
He couldn't move—the familiarity of that tone hit him like a sledgehammer.
Maria's voice. Maria was still alive.
"Are you absolutely sure about this, sergeant?"
Denny gulped, and nodded at the two officers holding bulletproof shields in front of him.
"I know someone inside the radio station. It'll be fine."
The three of them took cautious steps towards the building. Denny swore he could hear his own heart pounding crazily, but whether it was from anxiety or excitement, he couldn't tell. On the one hand, the place was bristling with the muzzles of rebel guns. And on the other—Maria was inside.
It wasn't really a difficult decision.
The officer in front of him stuck out a hand, calling:
"It's just one man! He's unarmed. He's coming now."
Denny took another deep breath, stepping out from behind the shields. He heard a voice from just inside the radio station:
"Keep your hands in sight! You make one wrong move and we will shoot!"
Keeping his eyes fixed straight ahead, Denny kept his hands up high.
Please be in there, please be in there, please, please, please!
After what felt like an eternity of walking, he stepped through the glass doors of the building, avoiding the suspicious stares of the crouching soldiers inside. He was looking for only one person.
And there she was—the face he thought had been rendered unrecognizable by flame was smiling sheepishly back at him. Everything was as he remembered: her steel-blue eyes, the birthmark high on her cheek…her hair hadn't even grown an inch. Knowing Maria, she'd kept it short to be able to maintain it more easily.
It was as if she'd stepped right out of the past, back to the day she was taken away as a murder suspect.
It might have been the stress of having multiple guns pointed at him, or a side effect of the overall insanity in Central, or, perhaps, the unfiltered shock of seeing his partner come back to life. Most likely, it was a combination of all three. Denny Brosh came unhinged.
Launching himself at her, he saw her expression change from nervous joy to pure terror.
"Guh! Denny—!"
Much to her credit, she didn't try to run away, but rather patted his back gingerly as he calmed down, hiccupping into her shoulder. Gradually recovering his powers of speech, he took her by both arms and blinked owlishly into her face.
"H-how?"
She looked much happier now that he had somewhat pulled himself together, and gently set one hand over his.
"It's kind of a long story. I'll tell you once we're out of this mess."
Her eyes traveled around the makeshift military barricade at the entrance to the radio building.
Denny started, realizing that a fairly large number of ranking officers had just witnessed him have a total emotional meltdown. Letting go of Maria's arms, he nodded stiffly as his ears burned.
She noticed, and guided him towards the stairs leading to the studio. After all, he was supposed to be negotiating on behalf of the Central forces, and should be meeting with the members of Mustang's team who were holed up in the radio station.
He was staring at her again as she walked with him up the stairs. It was like they were just partners again. It felt so…easy. Like the rumors of her guilt and her death had just been a long, terrible dream.
Her cheeks went pink.
"What's with the staring?"
They reached the top of the stairs and he paused.
"Nothing. Just…really happy to know you're not dead."
She snorted.
"Yeah, I figured out that much from when you attacked me."
The corner of his mouth pulled downward. Apparently she hadn't gotten any more sentimental.
"Well, I bet the major's reaction will be worse. You just wait until he finds out."
The pink in her cheeks darkened, and Denny swore he saw her start sweating.
"Well…actually…he already knows. He has for a while."
His jaw flapped open.
"You told Major Armstrong, but you didn't tell me?!"
She chewed her lip, but before she could respond, another military officer walked out of the studio room and beckoned to her. She nodded, and turned back to Denny, still looking guilty.
"I can explain that too! I told him not to tell you. But we've got bigger things to do right now."
He followed her deeper into the building, steam building in his ears.
If we survive this damn coup, I'm going to kill that shiny bald giant!"
