Okay, so no explanation regarding his body yet. Soon, I promise. :3
"At last, my arm is complete again!" ~ Sweeney Todd, in reference to his razor
Disclaimer: I do not own FMA. Even if I'd like to.
Chapter 10: Complete Again
Kate took her time in the morning, showering, brushing her hair, getting dressed, eating breakfast, smiling to herself when she imagined Barry listening to all of it, grinding his teeth (figuratively speaking) impatiently. She had no need to stall for time – she'd made her decision already during the night – but it was amusing to put it off just a little longer, just to frustrate him.
Eventually, however, she ran out of excuses, and with a sigh she opened the door to her workroom, walking in to an enthusiastic greeting from Barry. "Oh, good, you're awake!" he cried, as if he hadn't been listening to her every move for the past hour. "So, what's the verdict? Do I get to be whole again?"
She forced a stern look onto her face. "What do you think?"
"I…" He squinted at her, searching for a comforting glimmer in her eyes, a slightly twitching corner of her mouth, and found nothing. He faltered. "I… uh…"
She couldn't help but crack a smile. "Yes, of course you get to be whole again. I promised, didn't I?" His breath whooshed out in a sigh of relief. "Although, I gotta tell you Barry, this apartment's gonna seem mighty empty when you're gone."
"Ooh, what's this? Miss me already?" he chortled. "I could come back and visit, if you like. I'll bring my knife along, and…"
"No, I'd rather you didn't," she said, and though she almost laughed, he had brought up an excellent point. "But – I need to ask you a favor." She hesitated. "Oh, God, I must be insane for doing this."
"What is it?"
"Once I fix you, I would like it very much if you did not chop me. Consider it a fair exchange, in place of our original deal. I let you go free, rather than taking you back to Central, and you don't kill me – or my friends."
"What about the Colonel's orders?"
She shrugged, a hint of cunning in her eyes. "It's not my fault if I can't keep a fully repaired, murdering suit of armor in check. It was either get killed, or let you go. He'll understand."
"Wonderful. Simply wonderful," Barry agreed. "Now, about fixing me…"
"Yes, yes, I know." She stood over him, and began surveying the pieces of his armor. "I'll do it a piece at a time, then connect them together," she murmured, selecting scraps and placing them in front of her as she spoke. "The last thing I'll put back in place will be the piece with your bloodseal – not that I don't trust you, but I know I shouldn't."
"Fine, fine, just hurry up!"
"Don't rush me, or you'll end up with backwards joints and a leg where an arm should be." He fell silent immediately, forcing himself to watch quietly as she began to transmute his body back together. First one arm, then the other; his right leg, and then his left. His feet came next, then – the largest part – his torso, fully formed except for a jagged edge at the top where the piece with the blood rune belonged. Then she began connecting pieces, her cobalt eyes serious and full of concentration as she put him back together.
In just over an hour, she had it – his body was complete again, standing hollow and headless in the middle of the room, clean and perfect as the first day he'd been given it. She didn't tell him, but she'd actually added a few elements as well – just a little something here or there to make it stronger, more durable, just because she could.
"Oooh, I can't wait! Quick, quick, finish it! Attach my head!" Barry cried.
"I told you, don't rush me," she shot back, but she picked him up and did as he asked, standing on tiptoe to put his head in place. With a blue flash and a strange, tingly sensation, he found his head reattached to his body once more.
"Now the bloodseal! Hurry up!"
She picked it up, hesitating. "What will you do when you leave?"
"What does it matter? Just finish it already!"
"Fine!" She walked over to him, reluctant without quite knowing why. For some reason, she didn't really think he'd kill her – but she was putting off finishing him, all the same. Just get it over with, she thought sternly. She began to replace the piece, and on impulse, pressed her lips to the seal before fitting it against the rest of the armor. She felt it tremble violently before she let it go.
"What was that for?"
She shrugged. "For good luck." Before he could question it further, she clapped her hands and thrust them against his back, and with a flash and a creaking as the iron reattached itself, it was done. He was fully formed again, and fully mobile.
"I… I can move again!" he cried, waving his arms delightedly. Kate backed away, out of range of his wheeling arms, shaking her head. "Oh, it feels so GOOD to be back!" He spun about, simply enjoying the motion, and as he did so, he caught a glimpse of his knife on the table. "At last!" He snatched it up, caressing it as though it were a precious jewel or family heirloom, something priceless and beloved.
It happened so quickly, she had no time to react. One moment, he was crooning over his butcher knife, oblivious to all else in the world – and the next, Kate was flat against the wall, feeling the cold edge of the knife against her neck as Barry's skull-face loomed directly in front of hers. "Ah, there it is," he said, and she got the impression that he was smiling. "There's the fear I've been missing."
"What about our deal?" Kate demanded, doing her best to keep her voice level and her face straight. "I fixed you, and you let me and my friends live."
"What deal?" He shook his head. "I don't recall agreeing to those terms." He slid the knife gently, delicately, across the sensitive skin of her neck, threatening but without actually cutting. "It's been so long… so long since I properly chopped someone."
She could feel her body trembling, the blood draining from her face, but she lifted her chin, determined to keep what dignity she had left. "If you're going to do it, then stop dragging it out and do it already. You can do that much for me, at least."
He blinked, and suddenly, the knife was gone as he backed away from her, laughing. "You really thought I'd do it, didn't you?" he cackled. "Serves you right for trusting a killer like me!"
She blinked, rubbing her neck unconsciously as she stared at him. "You… you're not going to kill me?"
"No, I suppose not," he said, lowering his meat-cleaver and quieting down somewhat. "Although you do make an excellent victim. You would have fought back, if I'd given you the chance. It would have been quite interesting to see your insides. I can't guarantee I'll be able to keep away forever, but for now – I suppose I'll let you live."
She shook her head, too furious to laugh, to relieved to yell, and maybe even a little bit amused as well. "You're a complete jerk, you know that? You ever do that again, and I will kill you!"
"Ah, I love a strong woman," he said on a sigh, pretending (she hoped) to be moonstruck. "However, my dear, it is high time I left you. There's so much to chop, and so little time!"
"Barry, wait, I don't want you to…" But too late; he was out the window and hit the street before she could get more than his name out. Running to the window, she watched as he terrorized a nearby couple, then ran off down the street, calling out – something. She leaned further out, and her eyes widened as a couple of words reached her ears, and she realized he wasn't looking for just any victims – he was looking for his body.
She passed a hand wearily over her face, frustrated beyond measure and, she found, worried. Not just for whoever might cross his path, but for Barry as well. "I was going to tell you I don't want you to kill anyone," she muttered, to herself now that he was gone. "But I guess it wouldn't have made a difference. If you find your body, you won't be killing anyone else, because you'd have killed yourself."
For a moment, she remained motionless at the window, torn between common sense and what actually felt right. In the end, her heart won out, and with a growl she yanked her coat on and was out the door, chasing down the street after him. She wasn't sure what she would do when she found him, though she was beginning to think taking him back to headquarters was a good idea after all. Her first priority was to find him before he found his body; as for what she would do then, she would cross that bridge when she came to it.
If she came to it in time.