Seeking the Incomplete
By Marz
Trouble Follows Me
The Next Day….
The file room was locked, but there weren't enough personnel to guard it. A locked door is nothing to an alchemist, anyway. Mustang flipped through the "S" section, and found no mention of a Summer Summers. He was going to leave with renewed suspicions, when he saw the edge of something sticking out of between the file cabinet and the wall. It was smudged and dirty, but he couldn't tell if it was because the file was old, or because the space behind the cabinet was so filthy. Mustang absently noted the water marks on the edge of the pages. He wondered who had been so careless with it.
He flipped through the military history of Summer Summers. Her career was short, with a few reprimands for tardiness and back talking before she was transferred to Central, but nothing that particularly stood out, good or bad. No family in Central, and only a few distant relatives out in Melthith. There was no one he could contact easily, but then again, the file didn't make them sound worth contacting, anyway. The file spoke of an unremarkable person.
The file was also a forgery. It was a good forgery. It was a familiar forgery. He recognized Hughes' work. Mustang frowned. Why would Maes do this? And more importantly, why would one of the few people whom he trusted with everything, not trust him with this? This couldn't be official. Hughes might be called upon to move or hide a witness for the Court Martial office, but it was against all sorts of regulations to hide such a person within Military command, especially since that was the most likely place for the offender to be working.
It had to be something personal. The only personal reason he could come up with for hiding a pretty young woman, and risking all sorts of ruin to get her a job she probably wasn't qualified for, was a reason he couldn't equate with Hughes. The man was obsessively loyal to his wife, chasing off women who weren't actually hitting on him to begin with. Blackmail and threats didn't seem to be right, either. Hughes wouldn't have welcomed her into his home if that were the case.
Mustang put the file back, not in the cabinet, but behind it, where he had found it, and left the room. He headed toward General Hakuro's offices, though he was still early for his morning meeting. His walk was slow and calm, but it was acted more than felt. Something about the empty hallways made him wary.
88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888
Al looked at the woman standing over him, and tried to keep his nervous twitching under control.
"What do you need a sword for?" Al finally asked.
"Self-defense," she said, smirking slightly.
Al had numerous doubts. He knew she hadn't gotten on well with Colonel Mustang the day before, and the looks she'd shot the man hadn't gone unnoticed.
"Your brother said you could make one for me, and I found this to make it from," she said, brandishing a meter-long steel pipe. "And I have this," she said, handing him a piece of paper.
Al looked at the "blueprint", which may or may not have been drawn by Elicia. He supposed it could be a sword, or a streetlight, or maybe a long fish. The third time he flipped the paper around to make sure he had it right side up, Summer snatched it back, looking offended.
"I know I'm not a great artist, but it's a sword, pointy at one end, not at the other. Come on!" she said.
Al tried to think it all out. Summer was odd, but she hadn't done anything really untrustworthy. He knew she was much stronger than a normal person. If she wanted to cause harm, she wouldn't need a sword to do it. But he wondered what sort of trouble she'd get into if she had one.
"Are you sure you should be…" Al tried to start again. "I mean do you…uh…know how to fight with a sword?"
Summer gave him a rather frightening smile. She picked up the steel pipe she'd brought for him to transmute, lifting it as if it weighed nothing, and took up a guard position that Al had seen soldiers use when training with sabers. She went through a blindingly fast series of lunges, slashes, and retreats, finally stopping with the end of the pipe pressed just under the chin of Al's helmet. Even though he didn't have a body to stab, he shook slightly.
"That's kind of scary," Al said.
"Thanks!" Summer declared.
Al wished he could sigh as he started drawing out a transmutation circle in chalk on the kitchen floor. The act calmed him as he focused on the lines of the inner array, and planned out how he would direct energy through it. He could have drawn it faster, but he didn't.
"You been doing this Alchemy thing a long time?" Summer asked, looking over his shoulder.
"Since our dad left," Al said. "I guess I was three, maybe four. I don't remember really much about him, but we had his books, and as soon as Ed could read he got into them and shared them with me. I think…maybe it would have been better if we never found them. Alchemy is how I ended up like this."
He wanted to warn her away from the subject, but his words seemed to focus her further.
"But you know a lot about it?" Summer asked.
Al nodded. Summer picked up a pen, and drew out a symbol on the back of her sword/ fish/ lamppost picture. It was the ouroboros, a winged serpent eating its own tail. Al had seen it before, in theoretical alchemy involving immortality and human transmutation.
"Why…that?" Al asked nervously.
"You know I'm not normal," she said, quietly. "That has something to do with it. I know it does. If I knew what it meant…maybe I could figure out how I ended up…here."
"This wouldn't move you anywhere," Al said.
"Would it erase someone's memory?" she asked.
"I don't think so…" Al said.
"What does it do? Please tell me!"
"It's…something to do with immortality," Al said.
She froze. "How?"
"It's…well, from what I've read…it isn't really part of a transmutation, it's the end result, or a symbol of the end result, a snake eating its own tail, an endless cycle, eternity…"
"So you don't just stamp this on somebody and they become immortal?"
"No," Al said. "It's just a symbol. I don't really know what it means without context. Ed might-"
Summer shook her head sharply. "Could you not say anything to him about this?"
Al made a disturbed noise. He didn't keep secrets from his brother. He didn't know if he could. But then again…Ed kept things from him. Ed was the one who got to look up whatever he wanted to in the State Alchemists' library. He talked to the Colonel about things and Al wasn't allowed in the room. He knew his brother wasn't telling him everything, probably trying to protect him, but it still bothered Al. If he could find things out on his own…maybe Ed would tell him more, in exchange or something.
"For now," Al said.
Summer nodded solemnly.
"So this symbol, it ends up on someone after they're immortal?" she asked.
"I don't really know. I mean…to make someone immortal you'd need a tremendous source of energy…" Al stopped speaking, and stared at her. "Does this have anything to do with the philosopher's stone?" he asked.
"I have no idea what that is," Summer said.
"It's the ultimate alchemic amplifier," Al said.
"What's it for?"
"Everything!" Al said. "If we can find it, or find the formula to make one, Brother can get his arm and leg back, and I can be normal again."
"And a rock is really going to do all that?" Summer asked.
"The stone lets you get around the rules of equivalence," Al said. "We wouldn't have to give things up."
Summer frowned. "It sounds too good to be true."
"Maybe," Al said. "But we can't just give up. It's what keeps us going."
Summer nodded thoughtfully. "Well, if I find it, it's all yours."
Al pressed his hands to the outside of his transmutation circle and blue light rose up around him. The pipe in the center melted and reformed. When the light faded, Al picked up the blade and held the pommel out to Summer. She swung it around a few times, testing the balance.
"You're going to be careful with this, right?"
"Of course I will," she said.
She swung the blade around again and sliced off the bottom inch of the curtains on the kitchen window. Al got a bad feeling in the pit of the stomach he didn't have.
88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888
She hunched into the shadows watching the distant figure leap across roofs. Her vision tunneled in, recognizing the green hair and purple outfit as much as the way he moved. She darted after him, buildings flashing past. Envy, he'd called himself. She supposed that was a fitting name for a shapeshifter. He stopped suddenly and she skidded to a halt as well, ducking into shadows as he turned around, still a quarter of a mile ahead of her. Apparently unable to spot her, he took off again, and so did she. She saw where he was going now and she wasn't terribly surprised. The lights of Central Headquarters loomed in front of them. She smiled a bit, and purposely undershot her next jump. Her feet bounced against the side of a building, she flipped and landed running on the cobble street.
There were still a few people out, since it was only six-thirty in the evening, and a few of them waved or cheered as she passed. One man even shouted "nice sword". Usually she would have avoided attracting such attention, but she didn't think the creature she was pursuing was paying that much attention. She leapt over three fences, once narrowly missing a guard dog before finally coming out on the wide street that separated Central Headquarters from the civilian buildings. Envy would have to come down and run across or make a jump of well over a hundred feet.
Summer paused for a moment, catching her breath, her eyes roving along the edges of the roofs. Her hand went to the weapon strapped to her back. It had a heavy pommel, but no guard. Summer liked the design for some reason, though she knew it wouldn't be much good for fencing. That wasn't what she needed it for, anyway. She saw movement and a dark shape dropped down the front of a closed deli. He landed in the shadows, but a purple flash of light gave him away. A man in a lieutenant's uniform stepped forward a moment later, marching toward the military building. Summer grinned, feeling her clay mask crack, and charged.
Her footfalls were silent, but as she pulled the sword, the blade rasped across the sheath and Envy turned, angry surprise on his borrowed face.
"You again?" he growled, ducking as the sword slashed over him.
"Me again," Summer said, lunging in. "Me always. If you would just lie down and die, I wouldn't have to bother you."
"This time you die!" he said.
"Gee, I've never heard that before!" Summer said cheerfully, swinging the sword again.
88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888
It had been a bad day, and a long day, and for some reason, nobody but him wanted it to be over. Mustang frowned at the men on the other side of the table. He was the lowest-ranking officer there, or maybe only the least popular. Colonel Archer was a few seats down, but he wasn't getting the patronizing tones, the glares, or the orders to fetch more coffee.
The Fuhrer was absent, so the meeting couldn't have been that important. The Generals and Colonels had assembled at three P.M. to review the state of the military, and to "brainstorm" solutions to the new vigilante movement that was breaking out in Central. Mustang had already reported the movement consisted of a single vigilante, who was functioning with alchemic modifications. He had apparently been ignored. Four hours later, he was still being ignored. There was a thump and a bang from outside. The others were so wrapped up in their double talk and buzzwords, that they didn't seem to notice. Mustang stopped scratching transmutation circles into the plaster of his cast, got up from his chair, and went to the window to look.
"Are we boring you, Colonel?" General Hakuro growled, as Mustang pushed open the curtains.
He would have answered "yes" had not the need to move come over him. Just as Mustang threw himself backwards, the glass shattered and two figures tumbled in. One was a thin teenager in a tank-top and shorts, the other was the Demon in her trademark patchwork suit and face paint.
"What the hell!?" was all he could say.
The two lunatics ignored him in favor of hacking at each other. He leaned back in shock as the Demon stabbed the sword she carried through the chest of the purple-garbed teenager. Instead of falling and dying, the boy kicked his attacker in the shoulder. She tumbled backwards, pulling the sword out at she went. The boy spat up some blood, but the puncture wound sealed itself in a flash of what was obviously alchemy.
Guards rushed in, guns drawn, but before they could fire, the Demon caught the boy by the throat with her free hand, slammed him through a new window and dove out after him. Mustang didn't wait for orders. He hopped onto the sill, ducked under the shards still hanging in the pane, and jumped out the window after them. The two figures tumbled around the courtyard, kicking, gouging and hacking at each other. Mustang landed, not quite perfectly, in a drift of snow and hurried after them. Other windows and doors were pushed open, and more guards rushed into the courtyard as well.
Not everyone in the yard was ready for a fight, though. A group of women from the typing pool were apparently on their way home, and the combatants plowed right into them. The teenager grabbed a startled woman and pushed her in front of him, using her as a human shield as he closed with the Demon again. Mustang was only faintly surprised when the Demon dropped her sword a moment before it could run the innocent bystander through the chest. The hostage was slammed into the Demon and the two women tumbled backwards. The inhuman teenager charged after them, snatching up the discarded blade with a leer on his face.
Mustang raised his hand, preparing to fry the creature. A large hand closed over his, crushing his fingers and preventing him from making sparks with his ignition cloth glove. He hadn't heard the larger man's approach.
"Don't interfere, Colonel," General Gran growled at him, continuing to crush Mustang's hand, though he had already nodded in acknowledgement of the order.
The woman shrieked and tried to get out of the way, but her feet slipped and she fell back into the Demon's lap. She grimaced and closed her eyes as the blade flashed towards her face, but she didn't scream again. Instead, her attacker did. Mustang blinked, equally surprised at the outraged sound.
The Colonel tried to process the scene in front of him. The Demon's arms had come up around the woman, catching the business end of the sword between the heels of her hands, holding it so firmly that it had brought the charging teenager to a halt. Blood ran from the teenager's hand, which had slid up the guardless hilt and across the blade, severing a few of his own fingers. They were already growing back in a flurry of purple sparks.
"Run, lady," the Demon hissed at the woman in her lap.
The woman didn't need to be told twice, and ducked out of the awkward embrace to stumble across the yard toward the gathering of stunned military personnel.
"Our personnel are clear," Mustang said to Gran.
"I said, don't interfere," Gran growled.
Mustang didn't argue further. Instead, he filed the information away and shifted most of his focus to Gran, instead of the fight. Gran's face was almost a perfect mask of indifference, but he seemed unusually focused on the purple-clad teenager. His presence seemed to bother the General more than the Demon's did.
The battle in the center of the courtyard seemed to be picking up its pace, and Mustang looked back just in time to see the Demon chop off the teenager's arm right at the shoulder. He howled in rage and ran for the nearest building. He leapt, clearing the three-story roof in one leap. The Demon charged after him, easily achieving the same feat.
"After them!" Mustang ordered. "Everyone with a firearm! Now!"
The soldiers looked from him to General Gran warily, but the ranking officer didn't object this time. Mustang thought it was because he didn't expect them to catch up to obviously inhuman combatants, but he said nothing. One had to keep up appearances.
888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888
The arm had grown back in less then thirty seconds. As they rushed across the city, Envy seemed to get more choosy in his direction of retreat. Summer remembered that day on the roof of Central and suspected he was heading for backup. She waited until he leapt the gap between the buildings ahead of her. Summer dropped over the edge, landing on the street. She sprinted to the next building and climbed the brick wall until she was hanging just below the edge of the roof. She held her breath and waited. She heard feet shuffle to a stop and smiled slightly. There was a long, silent pause as her prey stood motionless, listening for sounds of her pursuit, even as she listened for his return. He came back towards the edge, with cautious, nearly silent steps, but she could tell right where he was.
If he'd had a sword, he might have held it out over the side of roof and used the reflection in the blade to see if she was still there, but he didn't. Instead, he literally stuck his neck out. She let go of the brickwork with one hand and her sword flashed up.
His head and body parted ways, but both fell to the street below. With a pleased sense of accomplishment, she let go of the wall and hopped down after him just to make sure. What she saw made her curse. His head was in the process of growing back. With a growl, she lashed out and lopped it off again. Again it regenerated in a storm of spark. She was sure that would finish him. What else could she do? She frowned.
You've got to get the heart, a voice whispered in the back of her mind. She actually got a clear image of a face with this memory, though it was the face of a ventriloquist's dummy. Still, she couldn't think of anything else to try. She'd already stabbed him in the chest a few dozen times, and it didn't slow him down. She supposed something a little more extreme was called for.
She lunged forward and slammed her fist into his chest. His ribs splintered under the force of the blow and her hand passed through. Sparks were already flying as regeneration began. She could feel the heart beating and grabbed it, but as she tried to pull her arm back out, it stuck.
His hands snapped up, grabbing and trapping her limb, one hand above the elbow and one below. His annoying smile was fully regenerated as he started to bend the joint the wrong way. She chopped at him with the sword in her other hand, but he ignored the blows, bending her arm until finally the elbow snapped. She kicked at him, and he let go of her broken arm to grab at her sword. She finally pulled away, leaping backwards, her left arm flopping uselessly.
She knew it would heal, but she'd need to hold it still for at least an hour, and right now, it didn't seem like she'd get the chance. Envy charged at her and she hacked at him again. She leapt away and retreated, dodging blows until her back hit a wall. Her confidence had abandoned her. She didn't know what else to do. Just as she was planning to run for it, Envy's foot lashed out, slamming her wrist into the wall. The sword fell from her hand and he snatched it up before she could. He swung at her as hard as he could, but she dodged. The steel shattered against the bricks.
Summer kicked out, knocking the hilt from his hand. It bounced down the street and knocked over a trash can. She leapt away again as he grabbed up a couple of the bigger shards of steel and charged at her. His arm came up on her right and she dodged left, realizing a moment too late that it was a feint. His other hand came down and she saw light flash off the shattered bit of blade a moment before pain seared through her head.
888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888
Envy watched her stumble back. Her eyes went unfocused. He waited for her to fall, but she didn't. He leapt forward, arm cocked to deliver a skull-shattering blow, but the movement caught her attention. She blocked his arm and her foot slammed into his hip, causing him to twist sideways and fall.
The metal in her head had clearly damaged something, but her coordination clearly wasn't it. He knew now that she was just another human. Humans could die. He had nothing to fear from her. She looked down at her broken arm, obviously confused.
"You did this?" she asked.
"Of course I did," Envy crowed.
She stumbled again. Envy charged at her, but she dove out of the way, rolling and scrambling up the side of the nearest building. He leapt after her as she fled. He lost sight of her, but her trail wasn't hard to follow. Droplets of blood spattered the snow every few yards. Even if he lost her, he could get Gluttony to track her down. Nobody could get away from that mindless eating machine once he had their scent.
88888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888
Someone was tapping on the back door of the Hughes' house. Al wrung his hands together. Summer had said she'd be back by dawn. The sun had come back, but she had not. She usually just opened the door after knocking, though. The tapping came again. He opened the back door, just enough to look out.
It was the Scrap Demon. He recognized her bizarre outfit despite the burn marks and filth. Her face was red instead of white, though, and after a moment he realized it was blood, rather than a new layer of face paint. There was a large piece of metal sticking out of the top of her head. It took him a long minute of staring to determine that it was a grisly injury, rather than a hair accessory.
"Hello," she said, her voice disturbingly familiar.
"Hello," Al said, awkwardly.
"Do I live here?" she asked.
Al stood in the doorway, shaking.
"I think you have the wrong…" he began.
"Ur!" Elicia shouted, as she toddled up behind the suit of armor. "Ur!"
Al was so startled, he nearly stepped on the little girl. He wondered how she had gotten out of her playpen.
"Ur! Ur! Ur!" Elicia repeated.
Al bent down to catch her, but Elicia rushed forward, and grabbed the Scrap Demon's pant leg. She let go a moment later.
"Sticky!" she declared, frowning and holding up bloody hands.
Al was nearing a panic attack, but the Scrap Demon did nothing as Al picked up the toddler and brought her to the sink to wash her hands. He looked at the woman on the back steps. She was watching him, blinking slowly, as if trying to process what she saw. He put Elicia back in her playpen and went back to the door. He peered more closely at the Demon's face, and through the layer of clay and blood, he picked out familiar features.
"Summer?" he asked in a small voice.
"Is that me?" she asked.
"Uh…I think so," Al ventured. "Maybe you should come in."
She did, and Al closed the door behind her. She wandered into the center of the kitchen and stood, apparently confused. Al reached for the phone, intending to call the hospital. He dropped the receiver as something thumped against the back door. A large shadow moved outside, blocking the sunlight that had been coming through the space beneath it. The steps creaked under its weight as it shifted around. He heard it snuffling.
"What is that?" Al whispered.
Summer looked at the door for a long moment; blood continued to run down her face and neck and land on the tiles. Finally, she spoke.
"I think somebody is following me."
8888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888888
Author's note: Sorry about the long break between chapters. I was having computer issues. I dragged my computer into a field and beat it to death with a bat. Anyway don't forget to review. It helps me contain my rage!