Hey, again, everyone! Another chapter is here for your angsty enjoyment, though it's not as long as I would have liked it to. But it seemed like a good place to end. And besides, we get to meet Irkwin! Hoorah.
This chapter is my Chirstmas/holiday present to all those who read this. Happy (belated) holidays!
Roy was not pleased to discover that Knox was fresh out of anything with a suitable level of alcohol. With a growl, he snapped the door to the empty liquor cabinet closed and stalked down the hallway towards the autopsy room. As he reached it, the Colonel could hear the two doctors muttering directions to each other and the occasional metal-on-metal clang.
Unsure of exactly what to do with himself while he waited for Irkwin to show up, Roy opted for leaning against the wall.
"Hey, Marco, pass me some needles, would you? I need to pin back this piece of skin to get a look at the lung." Knox's voice floated through the door and Roy was suddenly very glad that he hadn't gotten any alcohol in his stomach.
"Sure, here," was Marco's muffled response.
Things were quiet again and Roy amused himself by mentally devising an array that would let him burn his signature onto multiple papers instead of signing each and every one that came his way.
It was quiet for a while until a wet tearing noise erupted from the other side of the door. Knox cursed loudly and Roy jumped, almost tripping over his feet.
"Knox!" roared Marco. "What did you do?"
"I didn't do anything! The skin tore. Look, you can see for yourself!"
"I thought you were a professional at this!"
"I'm retired, alright? I haven't done this in a while. Besides, nobody's going to be able to tell; he's so ripped up already."
Roy bristled and slammed the door with a fist. "That's not the point, Knox! Have some respect!"
Something fell to the floor and Knox let out another curse. "Dammit, Roy, don't surprise us like that! How long have you been there?"
"Long enough," Roy growled, glaring daggers at the door.
Knox grunted. "I take it you called Irkwin?" he asked, quickly changing the subject before Roy could harass him anymore about the body abuse.
Roy cracked a knuckle. "I did. He said he'd be here in half an hour," the black-haired man replied stiffly, trying to clam himself down. Setting the house on fire will not accomplish anything, he told himself firmly.
"Oh, good. We're almost done in here." It was Marco this time. Roy had forgotten that the elderly doctor was even in the room.
Roy opted for a grunt and went back to sulking against the wall.
He was almost done with perfecting the array when the doorbell broke through his thoughts. The alchemist pushed himself off the wall and hastened down the hallway towards the front door. Without even bothering to check who it was, Roy yanked open the door.
The rain had lightened to a drizzle, but the young man standing on the doorstep was wrapped in a long black rain coat. He had a dark bowler hat pulled low over his eyes and a thick white scarf around his neck. "You're Mustang?" he asked, shoving the edge of the hat back in order to get a better look at the person in front of him.
"Yes. Irkwin?"
"Yessir. I'm here on time, I believe."
"You are. Come in," Mustang said, stepping out of the way. Julius hurried in, removing his hat and running a hand through his thick black hair. A clump of it fell over one eye, concealing it, and Roy tensed, reminded vividly of Wrath.
Irkwin's boots clomped loudly on the floor as he circled the room, almost like he was taking it in for the first time. After a minute, he stopped his pacing and turned to face Roy, who hadn't moved after closing the front door. "So. Am I going to be told why I'm here at the crack of dawn?" he asked with a slight Drachman accent that hadn't been clear over the phone.
Roy met the man's dark brown eyes. "You are here to retrieve a body," he replied tightly, wishing Knox would hurry up.
"I'm aware of that. So I'm not going to be told of the reason for death?" Irkwin shot back, giving Mustang a glare.
Roy sighed and glanced down the hallway. "It is not of any importance that you know. All you are required to do is prepare the body for the funeral." Roy wanted to stab himself. It was revolting to be referring to Edward as a body and the fact that the funeral was even coming into the discussion was enough to make Roy sick to his stomach.
Irkwin made a disgusted noise and sat down in one of the kitchen chairs, loosening the scarf around his neck.
The door opened down the hall and Knox came out, wiping his hands on a towel. "Mustang, was that Julius?" he asked, not close enough to the kitchen to see the new occupant.
"Yes it was." Julius answered for Roy, getting to his feet and, to Roy's surprise, giving the cranky smoker a grin. "If this becomes routine, I'm changing my phone number and not telling you," he joked, shoving the hat back on his head.
Knox sighed and lit a cigarette. "Stop being so happy, kid. It's nauseating."
Julius leaned against the table, and Roy was struck by the abrupt change in attitude. Obviously, he and Knox were good friends. "Aw, c'mon. What's wrong with being happy?"
"There's nothing wrong with it. But you're a funeral director and it's really just weird coming from you," Knox replied, giving Julius a half-hearted glare as he took a long drag of the cigarette. "You're supposed to be all somber and sympathetic to the grieving families."
"No, that's my dad's job. I just hang out with the dead guys in the basement."
Roy grimaced. He could see why Knox thought the happiness was weird coming from Julius.
Knox shook his head and muttered something under his breath. "Whatever. You're going to have one hell of a time fixing this one up. Careful with him, alright? Lots of tearing."
Julius bit a nail thoughtfully and glanced at Roy, a triumphant look in his eyes. "So, how'd Fullmetal die?"
Roy tensed, eyes flicking over to Knox. The doctor knew of the fight and Ed's death, but he was trying to keep the whole thing under wraps as much as Roy and Marco were.
Knox leaned over the table and snuffed out his cigarette in the ashtray. "Some chimeras got a hold of him and shredded him. Ended up dying from blood loss," Knox said calmly, ignoring Roy who had visibly sagged in relief against the wall at the lie. "It was down in the sewers, so there might be some nasty stuff lodged in a cavity I didn't get to. You've been warned."
Julius's eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he took the small pile of papers that Knox handed him without comment.
"Where'd you park your car?"
Julius tucked the papers inside his jacket. "I'm behind the house in that overgrown lot," he said, pointing towards the back of the house.
"Smart kid," Knox grunted, taking his glasses off to wipe them on his shirt. "Marco's going to go with you. I gotta take a look at his leg," he explained, jerking a thumb at Mustang.
"What? For the last time, my leg is fine; I'll go instead of-"
Roy cut himself off at the glare Knox gave him. Obviously, Marco and Knox had planned something out while they were in the room.
Julius was glancing between the two of them, but Knox nudged him down the hall before he could ask any questions. "Second door on the right. Marco's in there with the body all ready to go."
The younger man nodded and moved down the hallway and into the room. As soon as Julius was out of sight, Knox grabbed Roy's elbow and steered him into the living room, where he deposited the alchemist on the couch. "Take off your boot and roll up your pant leg. I want to clean up that gash before we have to amputate," he ordered, rummaging in one of the cabinets for supplies.
Roy sighed and did as he was told, rolling up his right pant leg to expose the wound. The gash had turned a nasty pale green color and Roy grimly wondered if it was a little too late to save the leg. In the background, he could hear doors opening and closing as Marco and Irkwin smuggled Ed out of the house.
Knox returned and began to clean and stitch the wound, muttering about how stupid Mustang was for not cleaning the gash earlier. The doctor didn't pay the least bit of attention to Roy's occasional suppressed yelps of pain and futile attempts to yank his leg away from Knox's grasp.
Finally, the doctor released Roy's leg and stood up. "Really, Roy, someone would think you've never had an injury before."
Roy scowled, pulling his boot back on. "Well, I usually get a nice dose of morphine before I get stabbed with a needle," he retorted, fixing Knox with a glare. "I'm guessing you don't have any to share, do you?"
"I can give you a cigarette."
Roy got to his feet carefully. He didn't want to pull the stitches out. "No thanks."
Knox shrugged and moved into the kitchen; Roy followed him, limping a little as he tried to get used to the stitches. "Probably the best for you, anyway. You're going to want a clear head."
Roy blinked in confusion. "What for?" he asked warily. There was something going on that he didn't know about…
"While Marco and I were in there, he called the Hughes' place. Someone should be here in a minute to pick you up and take you there."
Mustang had his mouth open to ask for more clarification of exactly what the hell was going on when the doorbell rang, cutting him off. He waited as Knox went to answer it; he returned quickly with Breda in tow.
Roy was unable to hide his confusion and surprise. "Breda? What are you doing here?" It was obvious the man hadn't gotten the sleep that Roy had told him to get and was at the end of his line in terms of energy.
His subordinate crossed his arms across his chest. "I'm taking you to Gracia's."
"What for?"
Breda tilted his head and gave Roy a look that showed just how much he wanted to kick his superior officer in the face for being so dense. "You've got some explaining to do."
Oh, boy, Roy's in trouble now. I don't think this explaining is going to go over so well. Too bad Knox didn't have any alcohol, eh?
Sorry about the slow pace in the past couple of chapters. The next chapter will be similar to this (lots of dialouge) but the one after that will make up for it. Hopefully. -coughs- Right now, it's looking like there's going to be 2 more chapters and an epilogue, so we're in the home stretch!