So I have an unfortunate announcement: Hero of the People will be going on hiatus for November, because I can't handle doing this and NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month) and everything else. All of my fanfictions are going on hiatus...but fret not, because it WILL be back. I'm just taking a break.

Lyrics are from Jesus Christ Superstar.

~11~

Oh don't you know everything's alright?

Yes, everything's fine

and we want you to sleep well tonight

-Everything's Alright

The train due from the Southwest pulled into Central Station half an hour early, but instead of its usual milling, multicoloured bustle, it was met with a sea of blue.

A young woman stepped off the train, legs shaking - and was faced with the barrel of a rifle. "I-I..." She began to shake even more violently.

"Sorry, honey," said the soldier on the other end, not unkindly. "We have to vet everybody."

She began to cry as he ushered her to the side, and another soldier frisked her, running his hands up and down her body. "Don't touch me, please, I..."

"We're just checking for weapons, ma'am."

One by one, the passengers came off the train and into the arms of the soldiers - some confused, some angry, some crying and fearful and others blank slates. The Lieutenant-Colonel watched every single one, memorizing their faces as best she could. Most would sink into oblivion before the day's end, she knew, but it was better than simply letting them each slip away.

"Lieutenant-Colonel, sir!" Two soldiers came up to her, and just behind them a familiar face -

"Hughes." She kept her voice calm, but couldn't help a small smile. He had no such reservations, grinning back and grabbing her hand, shaking it vigorously. However, his face was pale and beaded with sweat.

"Took care of it, Di," he said, trying to keep his tone light and his words nonspecific. "Shoddily made, but still, uh, hefty enough."

"Good thing you took care of it, then," growled Valjean appreciatively, coming up behind Hughes and visibly startling the Intelligence officer.

"Man, how do you move so quietly?" muttered Hughes slightly peevishly, although not without good humour, then added, "I'll pass on doing that again, if that's alright with you. I'll leave the high-stress situations to you circus freaks."

"Well, that's nice -"

"Hughes." Maes's attention snapped back to Solaris, who was frowning. "Where are the Elrics?"

"I got a call from Hakuro from his car saying the situation was resolved. I presume they're still up with him."

She arched an eyebrow. "Resolved?"

Maes nodded grimly. "I didn't press for details...but considering what else that kid did, I don't want to know."

"What else he - Hughes, what did he do?" exclaimed Diana, her mask slipping a bit, but Hughes shook his head.

"Not now."

Valjean, who had wandered a ways away to supervise the clearing of the train, suddenly called out, "Solaris. Solaris!"

Hakuro was climbing out of a car, clearly shaken but with no visible injuries. Behind him was his wife and two children...and behind them was a soldier supporting a boy who looked half-dead. He didn't even seem to be conscious.

"William," breathed Diana in a moment of shock, and then snapped back into reality. "Valjean, get those medics over here, and find the brother. Hughes -" She was about to order him to do something, but stopped as the blood he'd regained drained out of his face again.

"He..." He abruptly buried his face in his hands. "It hit him."

"What?"

"The bullet," he murmured. "It hit him after all." After a moment, he sighed, dragging his hands away from his face. "I'm going to go see what happened in that car, figure out if there's anything left to interrogate." He started to walk past her, but Diana caught his shoulder.

"Or," she said slowly, "you can go home, kiss your wife and figure out baby names." She smiled. "Your choice."

Hughes blinked, nonplussed, and then covered her hand with his for a moment, smiling back. "You're a godsend, love."

"Don't let Gracia hear you say that. Now go. You've got three hours."

0o0o0o0o0o

Resting her head uncomfortably on the back of the hospital chair, Diana reflected that William looked far more peaceful asleep than he ever had awake, unknowingly mirroring Selim's thoughts from a similar situation over a year ago. Her memory of him was faint, admittedly, but she could still remember the eleven-year-old's bitter vitriol, directed at seemingly everybody and nobody at once.

With a sigh, she bent her head back over Falman's report. He listed a total of twenty casualties, with nine deaths, three major injuries (including Will) and eight with minor damage. It was a shockingly low number - and it had been close to being so, so much worse. There had been more than three hundred passengers on the train.

Nine deaths. One of them had been the soldier assigned to Hakuro's compartment (one Captain Jack Lewis),but the rest were terrorists.

Diana shook her head despairingly. Destructive alchemy and a ruthless, yet effective method...

William Elric would most likely hate the military...but the State Military was going to love him.

There was a squeak of hinges as the door opened, and flicking her eyes up, she acknowledged Jareth's entrance with a slight smile at odds with her inner turmoil. He gave her a lazy salute that any other commanding officer might have bitten his head off for, and then automatically took his normal position standing behind her chair.

"So what kind of kid have we saddled ourselves with?" he murmured, continuing as she glanced warningly up at him, "Don't worry. Fuery's already swept for bugs."

"Circle-less alchemy," she replied quietly at his assurance.

Jareth was silent for a heartbeat, before reaching forward and plucking one of the reports from Diana's hand. "You're shitting me," he murmured, peering over his sunglasses to make sure he was reading it right.

"I'm afraid not. He killed seven of the terrorists, including the ringleader, by decomposing the bottom of the train car."

The Lieutenant whistled lowly. "That's brutal. Efficient, but brutal." Pause. "I think I like this kid."

"That's exactly my problem," admitted the troubled officer, taking back the report. "He's a child. I expected...well, just about anything else."

"Anything else wouldn't work very well as a State Alchemist," he pointed out. "So you're waiting here so that you can be sure you're the first to talk to him?"

"Yes."

"Permission to give you some advice, Diana, sir?"

She glanced up. "Within reason, Lieutenant."

"Remember not his years but his scars."

She started at the familiar words, and then shook her head. "You don't need to tell me that."

"Then stop feeling bad about dragging him into this. Chances are he woulda done it anyway."

Diana wanted to say he was wrong, but simply looked back at the sleeping Will. "Where's Alex?"

"Still with the Hakuros."

She sucked in her breath, but forced herself to calm down. "That could be troublesome."

"I'm sure he's got some story or explanation. Not a whole lot we can do - or that we're obliged to do - at this point. Which reminds me, you should get some sleep." Pause. "Sir."

"Would you like to try that again?"

He grinned. "C'mon, Di. You look like hell warmed over."

"I appreciate that," she retorted in a flat tone. "Is that the line you use on all your girlfriends?"

"I'm serious. I'll stand brat-duty - I mean, stay here until he wakes up." He lowered his sunglasses, fixing her with a playful look that contrarily meant that he was completely serious.

She threw up her hands in defeat. "Fine, fine. If anyone needs me, I'll be in my office."

"On the couch, asleep. Or else Vera comes out."

"Vera?"

Jareth patted his holster by way of answer.

"Another one? How many do you need?"

"You know me too well to expect a reasonable answer to that."

Diana promptly got up before Jareth could start on his usual spiel. "If he wakes up...be nice. And that, my dear Lieutenant, is in fact an order."

0o0o0o0o0o

The black leather couch in Solaris's office was not new. She had purloined it from an office that was being vacated, and years and years of people had lain upon it, wearing its burnished, squeaky shine down to a comfortable, velvety surface, albeit with its fair share of scuff-marks.

Diana could easily have requisitioned a new one, of course. She was a Lieutenant-Colonel and the military was not short of supplies. But somewhere she'd become enamored with the idea that objects held memories, and maybe she dreamt somebody else's dreams while sleeping on it.

But as she stared up at the ceiling fan making its lazy passes, she thought to herself that either it was simply a foolish fantasy after all, or that there was another person out there who broke into a cold sweat at the smell of smoke and burning flesh.

Whoever he was, Diana hoped she never met him.

0o0o0o0o0o

Jareth Valjean was not a patient man. Nobody had ever had reason to call him patient, or to even consider applying the word to him.

So it was no real surprise when fifteen minutes into his vigil he was staring at the ceiling, seeing what patterns he could derive from the various brown stains on the white plasterboard while picking his teeth with his legs splayed out in front of him.

Furthermore, to anybody well versed in the rules of the universe, it was no real surprise when Will chose that very moment to open his eyes.

"Oh, fantastic. They sent me a trained monkey."

Jareth suppressed a growl, trying to smile reassuringly. "Hey, kid, glad to see you're awake. I'm Lieutenant Val -"

"Valjean, yes, I remember. I don't remember you looking like such a tool."

Jareth's hands flew instinctively to his glasses. "You little bitch, you have no room to talk! What kind of dude wears a skirt, anyway?"

"The kind who doesn't put enough shit in his hair to wax every floor in Central!"

"Yeah, and you would know, backwater hick -"

"-military jackass -"

"-skinny-assed tramp-"

Outside, the nurses had begun to cluster around the door to William's room. Bets had been placed as to who would initiate the kissing, and a few were even nervously wondering if they shouldn't close the door before the head nurse finally cleared them away, telling them to clear their heads of such foolish notions.

Still, five seconds into their first real meeting must have broken some kind of record.