Chapter Six: Hero
Don't be a hero, don't be a fool with your life
Paper Lace, Billy, "Don't Be a Hero"
It was hard, just as hard as Winry'd expected, but going through it with Alphonse was even worse than telling Edward. Alphonse couldn't control his emotions yet, and broke down sobbing. Edward patted his brother's head, his mouth drawn into a thin, grim line. Paninya withdrew to the foot of the bed so Winry could hug Alphonse, his shudders transmitting through to her, making her cry, too.
"I can't believe it," Alphonse mumbled into her shoulder. "All three of them?" His voice broke, and he started crying again.
Winry looked at Edward over Alphonse's head. He held her gaze, his eyes red, though she couldn't see any tears. His larynx bobbed repeatedly, though, and she wondered how hard he fought to hold it in. Stretching, she grabbed for his shirt, the only thing she could reach, and tugged. Edward shifted even closer, sandwiching Alphonse between them. Winry slid her hand to the center of his back, and glanced down at Paninya. She beckoned her friend with her head, and Paninya hesitated for an instant, until Edward nodded, then she crawled up, putting her arms around them, too.
Alphonse hiccupped, and sniffled, and finally grew silent. Winry leaned back, ducking her head so she could look into his face. "You should rest," she told him.
"I c-can't… Granny, and Dad, and Den." Another wave of tears brightened his eyes.
Edward ruffled Alphonse's hair, pressing his cheek against Alphonse's shoulder. Paninya rubbed his legs. Winry stroked his back, trying not to grimace at the bumps of his spine. How could Paninya talk about how cute Alphonse was, when he was just skin and bones?
"I want to go to their graves, Ed," Alphonse raised his head, determined. "I want to say my goodbyes."
Edward grimaced, sucking air through his teeth. "Al."
"You can't go looking like this," Paninya said, petting his bony shin.
"I'm still going!" Alphonse's voice rose, making Winry wince. "I'm going to go to Risembool." He thumped his balled-up fist on the mattress. "You can help me or not, but I'm going!"
The door opened, a nurse peering in. Her eyes widened, then narrowed, and she said, sharply, "I'm going to have to ask you to leave, Major Elric, and you, too." She pointed her chin at Paninya and Winry. "You're upsetting Alphonse."
"No, Nurse Harrigan," Alphonse said, clutching at Winry's arm with bony fingers. "They're fine, it's just," his eyes teared up again.
"That's it," Nurse Harrigan said, "I need you to leave now." When Edward opened his mouth, she added, "Please don't make me call security."
Winry slipped off the bed, but paused to wrap an arm around Alphonse, pressing her forehead against his cheek for a second. "She's right, Al, you need to rest. You'll feel better afterward." She wiped the tears off his cheek, hoping she wasn't lying.
"Yeah, Al," Edward sighed, and dropped off the bed with a loud thump. "We'll be back. But you need to rest up, and get better." He squeezed Alphonse's arm. "Maybe I'll have all my limbs when you wake up."
Alphonse managed a watery smile. "Yeah, that'd be great." His hand trembled when he tried to wipe his eyes.
"You can all see him tomorrow," Nurse Harrigan said. "Now, I need you to get out of his room." She made a shooing motion at them as Paninya hopped off the bed.
"Later, Al," she said, winking at him.
"Yeah." With a shuddering sigh, Alphonse lay down. He smiled again, for Edward. "I'll be okay, Ed."
Edward clenched his hand into a fist, but raised it toward Alphonse in that gesture he used as he backed out the door. Paninya grabbed her bag and the automail case as Winry picked up her own luggage, following Edward out the door. He stalked down the hall, his shoulders tight. Before he got halfway down the corridor, he let out a loud grunt, kicking a trashcan and denting it.
"Wow," Paninya muttered.
"Ed," Winry started to say, then snapped her mouth closed. That same pair of soldiers were watching. Instead of saying anything more, she bumped Edward's ribs with her elbow, frowning at him when he grunted and turned on her. "Ed, we can't do anything now. And I don't know about you, but Paninya and I need something to eat." As soon as she mentioned eating, she winced. Alphonse was flesh and bone again, instead of armor, but still in a horrible state. "Is there a café in the hospital?"
Edward's glare bounced off her and he shot it instead at Alphonse's door. "Yeah. But late as it is, it's closed." Growling, he turned away from Winry. "There's a little place, a coupla blocks away."
"So you'll take us there?" Paninya asked brightly.
"And we'll need a place to stay, and somewhere I can work on your arm," Winry reminded Edward.
He huffed, rubbing the back of his neck. "I've been sleeping in the hospital."
Winry couldn't fold her arms with her toolkit and bag in her hands, so she settled for a toss of her head. "Yeah, I can smell." Edward squeaked out something that made Winry want to use her oil can. Paninya couldn't quite smother her giggles with her hands. "Seriously, Ed! You need a bath, and you ought to wash your hair – it looks tarnished."
"Nng!" Showing his teeth at her, Edward leaned closer, obviously preparing for an argument. A coughed laugh from someone outside their circle made Edward clench his jaw. "Come on," he growled, jerking his head to lead Winry and Paninya along.
The soldiers shifted to block the elevator door. "Major Elric," the taller one said, and Winry winced inwardly at the tone of his voice.
"Yeah," Edward said curtly, "what is it, Sergeant?"
"I'm afraid I need to know where you're going." He mouthed the words politely enough, but his face looked like stone. Beside her, Winry felt Paninya shifting her weight from one foot to the other, and knew her friend was getting ready to do something.
Edward stiffened, his chin tilting up. "I'm taking these two to get a hotel room, not that it's any of your business."
The elevator bell chimed, interrupting the sergeant, and the doors opened to release the bulk of a large man's body. Major Armstrong stepped out and Winry could swear the air around him glittered. "Ah, Major Edward Elric! It is so good to see you!" He strode through the hall, scattering the two soldiers like they were chickens. "And Alphonse, he's on this floor, too? Excellent. Doctor? Please, come with me."
A red-haired woman appeared out of the elevator. A rounder, older, blond nurse followed close behind. The doctor nodded tightly at them while the nurse smiled. Somehow, Winry thought the nurse looked familiar, then realized her features were similar to Major Armstrong's, and snapped her mouth shut. "Where is Mr. Alphonse Elric?" the doctor asked, with an accent Winry didn't recognize.
Paninya pointed dumbly back down the hall, blinking up at Major Armstrong.
"There, Doctor," Major Armstrong boomed, following Paninya's gesture with one of his own. "Please, see to your patient."
"That is not allowed, sir," the sergeant said, stepping into the path of the red-headed woman.
"Not allowed?" Moustache bristling, Major Armstrong loomed over the two soldiers. "I do not understand what you are saying, Sergeant. Alphonse Elric needs additional care. A private doctor and nurse can provide that care, far better than hospital staff. Not that there is anything wrong with this hospital, but current staff is overwhelmed with the patients who have needed their assistance since the eclipse."
Edward gaped at Major Armstrong. "What's going on?"
"I have taken the liberty of requesting Dr. Anderson to see to your younger brother. She has dealt with these types of cases in the past," Major Armstrong said. Winry watched the red-headed doctor and her blond nurse push into Alphonse's room. She took a step toward it, then hesitated, glancing back at Major Armstrong. He made a beckoning motion at her with the hand farthest away from the soldiers, his body blocking the movement. Paninya grabbed Winry's elbow, pulling her closer. Edward moved, too, though toward Alphonse's room. "Edward Elric, please, let Dr. Anderson do her job," Major Armstrong said.
"But," Edward half-turned back to Major Armstrong. Whatever else he might've said was lost in the explosion that rocked the building.
X X X
The soldiers arrived only about fifteen minutes after Kimblee made his call. The gratification of prompt responses reminded Kimblee of why he enjoyed the military. So punctual. So willing to believe anyone who had a rank higher than them. "Gentlemen," Kimblee said, "today, we are collecting the Flame Alchemist. He has had orders to remain confined to quarters, specifically, the hospital room where he has been…resting…since his injuries."
There was a faint murmuring, like the susurration of leaves in a gentle breeze, but no one made any disagreement. Kimblee tapped his fingertips together. "He is currently within the park boundaries," he'd made sure of that, finding Mustang on a bench, though not approaching. There were other plays that required his attention before he confronted Flame again. "Mustang may try to talk his way out of your control. Do not listen to him." Kimblee punctuated that sentence by pointing at each of the six soldiers. "The Flame Alchemist is known as the Hero of Ishbal. He must have his ignition gloves to activate the circle that transmutes his fire alchemy. That doesn't mean he might not have other tricks up his sleeve. Be careful, and be cautious. There is a reason why the Ishbalans still fear him. The fact he is blind does not mean he is not dangerous." Kimblee folded his arms. "Do I make myself clear, soldiers?"
"Yes, sir!" they responded together.
He allowed himself a faint smile. "Excellent. There are a few more alchemists that we should be wary of. The Strongarm Alchemist and the Fullmetal Alchemist are also within the hospital currently. I do not think they will cause us any worries, but I wanted you to be aware."
"Yes, sir!"
Soldiers, so perfectly biddable. Kimblee smiled broadly. "Go fetch Mustang, and bring him back here to me." Not bothering to watch them trot off, Kimblee turned his attention to the hospital again. He had other things to take care of, and if that car hadn't been cleared away, it would make a good starting point for what he had planned.
X X X
The cadenced steps alerted Roy that his guardians had managed to find him. He smiled, getting to his feet. "Ah, I was hoping someone would come and take me back to the hospital."
The sound of safeties being flicked off of pistols startled him. "Freeze, Flame Alchemist!"
The incongruity of it nearly made him laugh, but Roy raised his hands to shoulder level. "Gentlemen, I assure you, I am unarmed, and no threat."
"Shut up!" the youngish voice said. "Get down on your knees."
"You are aware I am blind," Roy said, but he carefully eased his way down to one knee. The hospital sandals did nothing to protect his feet from the cement. He managed not to wince at the scrape on the top of his left big toe. Dropping his hand to the rough pathway to keep his balance, he heard an intake of breath from one of the men surrounding him. "I am no threat," he repeated carefully. "Or would you rather me be face-down?"
"Shut. Up." The young tough approached close enough that Roy could smell the polish on his shoes. Something hard pressed against his skull, and Roy identified it as the muzzle of a pistol. "You were not supposed to leave the hospital," the man whispered. The pressure against Roy's head forced it sideways. "Do you understand? There are people terrified of alchemists."
"I was unaware that I was confined to quarters," Roy said, deliberately slow. "I will be happy to accompany you back to my hospital room." Feeling the faint tremor running through the pistol to his head, Roy froze. He bit his tongue, the pain forcing him to concentrate on something other than the gun, thinking it was a good thing Hawkeye wasn't anywhere close by. He could only imagine how she might react to this scenario.
"Damn right you will," the soldier hissed. "And you'll be a good little soldier, won't you? Obey the rules, just like the dog you are. Your staff is under our surveillance, you know, and you, you are next on the chopping block."
"Then you know I'll be a very good dog," Roy said, through his teeth.
"I know that you slipped your collar once before, Colonel." He made the title sound like a curse. "And you've tried to slip it again today. There's no reason I shouldn't take my shot now. It'd save the citizens the trial fees."
Roy gritted his teeth as the barrel moved down to his temple, caressing it. "Repeating popular press? I'd expect better."
The muzzle pushed harder against his temple. "Where do you think they came up with the quote?"
Roy sighed, his body slumping. "You have me. I am in your control."
"Damn straight," the young man gloated. There was a hesitation, and he said, "You, and you, help him up. Keep your hands on him, though; don't let go. He's tricky. Don't let his sightlessness fool you. He was still using his alchemy after he lost his sight. It's in the reports."
The pistol pulled slightly away from Roy's temple as two pairs of hands grabbed him roughly under the arms to haul him up to his feet. Roy let them manipulate him as if he was a doll, his weight dragging them down. He mumbled to his captors, "Sorry. I really am blind. Please let me know where the curb is? I don't want to trouble you by falling."
"Maybe we'll just drop you in the street," one of the men grumbled.
"Not enough traffic," the other one, taller, and on his left, sighed.
Roy caught a whiff of something, a smell all too familiar. Petrol. What had Rachel done when she'd crashed her car?
"Are we really taking him back to the hospital room?"
"Chase is calling the shots." There was a slight hesitation, and the one on the left said, grudgingly, "Curb."
"I'm surprised they didn't get that accident cleaned up yet," the right-sided soldier said, tsking.
"Was anyone hurt?" Roy asked, feeling for the edge of the curb and stepping down carefully.
"No, but the car," left-hand let out a low whistle, then said, "kwisssh," for emphasis.
The wind funneled by the park on one side and the hospital building on the other. The sounds let Roy know where people were – gathered around the smell of petroleum, their voices and the stink coming to him together on the breeze. Roy blinked, wishing, briefly, for Hawkeye and her hand on his shoulder, guiding him.
The soft clap of a gun firing and the whine of a bullet cutting through air alerted him. There was a scream, and the men holding Roy's arms stiffened in shock. Another crack-whiz sent a lot of screamers scattering. "What the hell?" the soldier on the right said, his grip on Roy's arm loosening.
"Sniper!" the youngish commander shouted, "arms at ready!"
"You, stay out of the way," the left-hand soldier snapped, shoving Roy back. And just like that, Roy was free. He took a step away, listening closely, not to the shouts of the soldiers, but the other sounds. Another crack-whiz, coming from another direction, and it struck something metallic. Roy couldn't help his smirk. He had his trajectory; knew which way to aim.
Alchemy without a transmutation circle still seemed too strange, but Roy pressed his hands together before snapping his fingers, sending a thin gout of flame straight at the wrecked car. The satisfying 'whump' of the car exploding nearly drowned out the additional screams the detonation caused.
"Stand down, stand down!" someone screamed. "Mustang, stand down!"
Roy smiled at the sound of pistols cocking, and touched his palms again.
The explosion that happened afterward sent him flying.
X X X
Kimblee rubbed his hands together, smiling as the fire rained down on the soldiers and Roy Mustang. "Sorry, Flame, but it's time you were actually useful to me." Moving back out of the way of the frightened, running people, he settled himself against the hedge. There might still be a drama to be played out, and right now, he had the front row. If only the seating was better.
He supposed that beggars really couldn't be choosers, and really, it was better in this position than what he'd seen during the Promised Day. Smiling faintly, he addressed his little parasite. "Pride, would you like to see what a very minor hell looks like?"
There was no answer, and Kimblee's smile grew. Maybe Pride had grown tired, and given up, though he doubted it. He thought the homunculus might be biding its time, waiting for him to lose control, so it could wrest it back.
Well, he'd have to remain alert to that threat. It was about the only one he could foresee at the moment, unless Archer decided to send him back to prison. Another possibility, but less likely to happen. Kimblee had waited long years for his release from incarceration, and he didn't intend to return, no matter what the circumstances. His friend, if Envy could be considered a friend, had released him from jail, and if nothing else, Kimblee owed the homunculus for his freedom.
"I know that's probably a strange thing, to you, to consider how Envy might have felt dying," Kimblee told Pride. "But Envy was my ally, in every sense of the word. You, on the other hand, ate me."
Do you think Envy wouldn't have done the same, given the proper circumstances? Pride asked, sounding so very haughty.
"Possibly, but I guess we'll never know, will we?" Kimblee watched as a soldier fell into the consuming flames. The sweet smell of cooking meat perfumed the air, bringing back far too many memories. If only he had someone who appreciated his art with him today.
X X X
Winry realized she was on the floor, her ears ringing. Someone's hard hand crushed her wrist, and she could just make out the sound of her name. " – inry!"
"What?" she shouted back, shaking her head and opening and closing her mouth to try to make her ears pop. Smoke clouded the hall, making it hard to see, and to breathe. She coughed, rubbing at her eyes.
"Get up! We have to get out of here!" Edward yelled, leaning so close to her face, their noses nearly touched. Blood stained his bangs and streaked his face. It looked like that old wound above his eyebrow had reopened.
"Right," Winry said grimly, managing to get her feet under her, ignoring the twinge in her left thigh, realizing she'd landed on her toolkit. She grabbed it with her free hand, shakily getting up. "Al? Paninya?"
"Armstrong. He grabbed Al, and Paninya went with them. I told them I'd get you out!" Edward pulled at her. Winry took the hint and got up. Her leg nearly gave way for a second, sending her staggering into the wall. "Are you okay?" Edward kept hold of her wrist.
"Yeah, Ed." Taking a shaky breath, Winry straightened. "The automail case?"
"Hnn! Don't worry about that! We've got to get out of here." Glancing around, Edward gave her arm a tug. "Stairs, there. Come on, Winry."
She stumbled along for a few steps but caught her balance and kept moving. Head aching, half-blind and –deaf, she trusted Edward to pull her along. He coughed, kicking at the door to force it open. "Wait a second." Holding her back to let a stretcher go by, Edward flashed a grim look that only grew darker as they entered the stream of people on the stairs.
The stairway was clogged with hospital staff and the patients they could move down them. Winry heard people crying, and could smell smoke and blood. Part of her wanted to stop, to help, but Edward didn't give her a chance. His expression, when he glanced back and up at her, told her just how much he hated himself for not letting her help. For not stopping, himself. "We have to get to Al," he coughed, and she nodded, letting him pull her along.
Winry trusted Major Armstrong to get Alphonse out of the hospital, and Paninya to stick close to him. It wouldn't be too hard to find them once Edward and she got outside, she was sure of it. Edward's tread rang out on the concrete, one step louder than the other from the weight of his automail. He kept his balance on the stairs by gripping her wrist, sometimes by bouncing off the wall. Winry stabilized him on his left side as best she could.
Four floors lay between them and the street, and Winry only had to haul back on Edward once to keep him from tumbling down the stairs. Finally, they reached the ground floor, exiting the stairwell to find a mass of people, fighting to leave the hospital. Edward gnashed his teeth, twisting from side to side, standing on his toes in an attempt to see over the heads of the people around them. "Damn it!"
"There, Ed!" Winry pulled him this time, toward a narrow hallway with a door at the end. Edward had to kick it open, too, his metal leg battering at the doorknob until it broke, sending the door flying wildly. It crashed into the wall but they'd already made their way through before the door bounced closed.
"Where the hell are we?" Edward coughed, shaking his head, slinging blood from his cut. "Shit!"
"Alley, it looks like. That way." It was her turn to lead Edward, and Winry moved quickly through the wide alley, heading for a splash of green ahead of them. She thought it might be the park across the street from the hospital. What safer place to be than out in the open?
Edward's head came up like a restless horse. "Did you hear that?"
"What?" Winry couldn't hear much; her ears still rang from the blast.
"Guns," Edward said grimly. "Stay back."
"I'm not waiting here," Winry argued. "If the building comes down - "
"Nng! I don't think there'll be another explosion!" His teeth flashed in emphasis.
"I don't care!"
Edward shook his head at her determination, but gave up after a split second. "Fine! Stay behind me, then!" Creeping to the alley's entrance, Edward blocked Winry with his body as he peered around the corner of the building. "Damn it, what's going on out there?"
Peering over his shoulder, Winry caught sight of a mass of blue uniforms, surrounding someone who looked to be wearing hospital whites. A fire crackled behind the man in white, sending billowing clouds of black smoke toward the sky. More people were leaving the hospital in mobs, massing in front of the building, blocking Winry's view of the soldiers. She turned her attention instead to trying to spot Major Armstrong. His height and girth made him stand out in the crowd, and it only took a few seconds for her to find him. "Ed, it's Major Armstrong." She couldn't see Alphonse, but surely he had to be with the Major. "Ed?"
He'd taken a few steps outside the alley. "What the hell?" Spinning back around, Edward shoved her into the alley, pressing her against a wall. "Winry, you need to stay here."
"What?" Winry slapped his chest with her free hand. "Ed, we should to go to the Major!"
"You can," Edward told her, glancing over his shoulder, "but the bastard's in trouble. I can't just let him face this alone!"
"Ed." Her voice trailed off. He didn't even seem to be listening to her. Gritting her teeth, Winry pushed at him. "Ed! What about Al?"
Gunfire erupted and Edward jerked, almost as if he'd been the one hit. "No!" He froze after lunging out of the alley. Winry crashed into his back, rocking him, but not hard enough to knock him down. She couldn't see anything at first, then a dark-haired man straightened in front of the flaming car. The soldiers crouched in front of him, some of them pointing their pistols away from the burning wreck, others aiming directly at the man. Winry gasped, realizing she recognized him.
Edward let out a growl, his body tensing. "Winry, get to Armstrong. He'll make sure you're safe."
She grabbed his arm before he could move. "No, Ed, you can't."
Jerking at her grip, Edward shot her a furious glare. "Go! I can't protect you! He can!"
"You're not going over there!" Winry wrapped her other arm around his waist, holding him back. "Ed!"
People from the hospital screamed and scattered as gunfire erupted again. One of the soldiers fell with a curse, loud enough to be heard even where they stood. Straining against her grip, Edward squirmed sideways, pulling free. "Mustang!" he yelled.
The dark-haired man turned his head, and even at the distance, Winry could see the shock on his face. It firmed into a grim mask, and the man raised his right hand, not quite forming a fist. Edward screamed, "No!"
The burning car suddenly exploded, the flames roaring toward the sky, sending the soldiers scrabbling backward. The blast crashed into Edward and Winry, flinging them to the sidewalk. Winry couldn't remember a pain like this; Edward sprawled partially on her, struggling to sit up, his automail bruising her leg. Her side and back and elbows felt bruised, too. Managing to get semi-upright, Edward stared at the flames, one eye half-closed from blood running down his face, the other wide and staring.
Winry grunted, trying not to remember the last time she'd fallen so hard. Screams seemed to come from far away, but one thing came all too clear – a single gunshot. The crack of it echoed off the building.
Edward screamed, loud and wordless, a howl that cut through her heart as the dark-haired man fell backward into the flames, the fire gouting up even higher.