Disclaimer: Don't own DGrayMan or FMA
A/N: Wow, I was actually really surprised with how many people were upset with Pinako's death. Honestly. Dunno why, I was just surprised. Oh and if no one figured it out the people on the train were Scar and Tyki and Tyki's friends. (I didn't add Eeze in cause it's still a few years earlier and I figured Eeze was too young at that time to be working the mines or whatever job Tyki does).
Obvious Grief
By: animeroxsmyworld
Chapter 11: Will
Those eyes seemed to glow in the darkness of the car.
Silence engulfed them, the tension thick and choking like smog because he knew that they knew. He could see it on their faces. He could see the instant judgement that his red eyes brought down upon him ever since the massacre.
Oh sorry, rebellion is what the military said.
"So you're Ishbalan."
A careful poke to the thick wall of tension. A few more pokes and eventually it would all tumble, but left alone it stood big and menacing, separating them from him.
He gave a grunt. "I am."
More silence. And then a very wary smile tugged at one man's mouth, a nervous, almost hysterical chuckle rumbling up from his throat. "Well at least we know you got both eyes." He attempted to joke.
Seconds ticked by before the other two men let out bits of laughter as well. Everyone acted differently when presented with something they feared. Ever since that Ishbalan rebellion Ishbalans had a very dark reputation, or so it was rumored. They were savage, ruthless humans who bore red eyes to show that they were indeed demons.
Meeting an Ishbalan was like meeting the devil.
"If he has both eyes he can't really be a pirate now can he?" The other man followed up, the wall starting to break down with nervous laughs as they mechanically began playing their card game once again, talking about him as if he wasn't there. As if pretending he wasn't there would make his presence all that more bearable.
He was beginning to contemplate putting his shades back on when he caught the gaze of the one with the thick glasses. He was staring straight at him, not skittering his gaze away like the other two and it made him pause, muscles tensing ever so slightly. The man stared at him silently as if he was honestly just seeing him for the first time before a lazy grin appeared on his face, looking more genuine than anything he had ever seen in the past while.
"I'm Tyki. What's your name?"
"I don't have a name."
This seemed to amuse Tyki as a brow raised and amusement coloured his face.
"Really? Have some odd parents did you?" He asked and actually chuckled when he received a glare. "So then what do people call you?"
"They don't call me anything." The ex-priest replied. "The person I was before is dead. I no longer exist." He explained coldly. He did not feel like delving into his past with strangers. He should've died that day when that state alchemist destroyed his life. Blew up his village during the war.
He had felt his blood, warm and sticky, running down his face. He had felt the pain like fire in his arm and he knew then that he was a dead man. He should've been dead.
But his brother…oh his brother.
He absently clutched at his arm as he frowned. No. He wasn't the man he used to be.
A light seemed to flare in Tyki's eyes and his smile vanished briefly before a corner of his lip pulled up once more into a sly smile. The ex-priest could feel the intensity of the other man's gaze like a fire poker, even through those thick glasses.
"You don't say?"
It was several hours before Ed was able to put himself into motion once more. His hand fell and gripped the wheel of the chair tightly and with a shove he pushed forward, Al starting at the sound and snapping to attention quickly.
"Stay here."
"What?" The younger brother asked in startled confusion as Ed's quiet command reached him. Ed didn't stop as he continued to roll himself back towards the entrance of the tent, people giving the wheelchair room to move as he drew closer.
"Stay here." He merely commanded again, and then he disappeared into the sea of people leaving Al alone with Ed's medication in his hands. Dr. Marvin had long since been taken from them since his medical abilities were found out and he had been unintentionally drafted into helping out. Al could still see him every now and then popping up amongst the crowd.
Al struggled with following his brother's command, fidgeting restlessly as he stood outside the tent and drawing several stares. He watched the people pass, listened to the cries of the villagers, of the village itself, and tried not to let his mind wander too much for fear of where it would go.
He was watching some more men dressed in blue scout out among the edges of the crowd, a few coming together and talking, exchanging nods and serious looks when his thoughts cut off instantly at the sound of wheels coming too close to him to be unintentional.
His eyes snapped up quickly and he saw his brother looking no different than usual despite the sudden hardness of his eyes.
"Brother?" Al asked quickly, concern lacing his words. "Are you alright? What happened?" 'Why'd you leave me behind?' He wanted to ask instead but refrained. Ed only looked away as he answered, his gaze quickly finding the military men that Al had been watching only moments before.
"It was nothing Al."
'You're lying.' Al thought instantly. He could tell. He could always tell. Ed was a terrible liar, at least when it came to lying to him. But why? Why lie to him?
"Ed…" Al whispered and his brother's jaw twitched. But he still remained silent and Al felt irritation build inside of him. "Brother." He said firmly, anger seeping into his voice. He could see his brother's shoulders set but yet there was still no noise from his older brother.
Al inwardly steeled himself. He didn't want to play this card but he knew how it affected his brother. It was their mother's move, her way of scolding and it still brought Edward around as if she was right there, ready to give him heck.
"Edward Van Elric!" Al practically barked, Ed's head whiplashing, eyes wide and mouth already falling open with protests and defenses on his tongue.
Recognition slowly filtered over his face and his face turned sour, eyes scowling as he relaxed into his seat. "I hate when you do that." He remarked bitterly before his eyes cloud with memories.
Al relaxes, his voice turning soft. "I know."
Silence stretches between them for a moment before Al shifts, still persistent. "Brother, what happened?" He asks again. Ed's face scowls so darkly that Al fears that perhaps he has gone too far and should've let his older brother be before Ed lets out a long sigh and slumps. Saying nothing he uses his arm to roll up the limp sleeve hiding his stump, allowing Al to see the bandages.
New bandages.
They were pristine and white where his other ones, although freshly changed that morning, had begun to color already.
Al stared.
"You got your skin sewed over." He muttered, his voice barely a whisper, Ed yanking the sleeve back down as if the metal voice was an alarm, setting him back into motion. He didn't know why but the fact that Ed had actually sewed the wounds shut seemed so…definitive.
It made everything…their situation…seem all that more real.
Ed truly was missing an arm and a leg.
Even with everything that they brought with them in preparation of the worst case scenario upon reaching Risembool, the squad of medics and military personnel were running low on supplies and a report still had to be sent back to King Bradley describing the scene and the idea behind the attack.
True it could be done over the secured travelling phones that they brought with them for special emergencies but some things just couldn't be conveyed properly with several ears paying close attention and taping into the lines. No, sometimes it was best to go in person.
That was why Hughes and two other military militias found themselves huddled on what had once been the Risembool train station. Although the station was quite a fair way out of town it hadn't been left unmarked by the attack. At least half of it was burned and charred into what Hughes could only guess could've been a bomb, one of the ticket booths completely lost while the other looked crushed and wounded, still managing to stay upright but looking like it would tip at any moment with just enough force.
"How much longer?" One man, Robert, asked as he gazed out at the tracks where their ride would be emerging.
Hughes didn't have to even look down at his watch as he answered. "5 more minutes." He replied easily. He was eager to be away from here, back with his beautiful wife. Kyle, the other man in uniform, gave a yawn as he sat propped amongst the pile of crates and empty supplies that they were to take back, fill up, and then ship right back. This was only supposed to be kept up until Risembool could be put back on its feet, but who knew how long it was before that could be.
Robert gave a grunt and turned to survey the rest of the scenery. It was uncomfortable silence for the rest of the five minutes until eventually the shrill of a whistle punctured the air, the sight of a rusted red train pulling into view.
Robert straightened and Kyle leapt to his feet, Hughes only watching as the train screeched, slowing down to stop at the station. The sound was loud and grating, yet in its midst Hughes thought he could hear a metal clank, faint but apparent.
Quirking a brow he looked around but nothing was amiss.
The train finally came to a stop and Kyle and Robert were eagerly filling their arms with the supply boxes, pausing temporarily to talk with the conductor who pointed down to the free storage cars. Apparently they were as anxious to leave as he was. They were practically running, already leaving only one box behind.
Picking up the box himself, Hughes followed after them, grunting slightly at the weight as he trekked to the back of the train and slid the door open with his foot as best as he could, light spilling into one of the multiple cars filled to the brim with boxes of all sizes and shapes. Kyle was placing his last box on a pile when the stack tumbled, one falling to the side and knocking Hughes sideways onto the ground.
"Ack!"
Kyle paused and blinked at the high pitched shout of surprise. "Sir?" He asked as Hughes made no move to regain himself. "Are you alright."
"I'm fine." Hughes reassured, still unmoving before he suddenly smiled, "Just caught me by surprise is all. Nothing to worry about." He continued with ease. Kyle smiled in relief, quickly righting the overturned stack of empty food containers before exiting the room, not bothering to notice how Hughes was still crouched on the floor, or how his grip on the box was a little too tight.
When the door slid closed Hughes watched it for a few seconds before his gaze turned back to the box in his hands, the lid having propped open in his fall and unveiling golden eyes looking back at him.
In one fluid motion Hughes upturned the box, scolding words on his tongue, and they vanished the instant the boy hit the ground. He hit it with someone who had no balance to even try and catch themselves, the wind knocking straight out of him as he landed on his back, mouth opening in a gasp of a cry. As his air returned he scrambled to right himself but found it extremely difficult with only one arm and one leg.
Hughes wasn't sure whether to pity the child or be encouraged by his efforts.
Either way all he could do was stare before he realized that he was being glared at quite openly, the boy settling for just sitting on the ground with his back propped up against one of the other boxes.
Yet despite himself and the situation, Hughes found himself talking, looking first at the boy and then at the box in his hands.
"How'd you fit inside the box?"
The child's face seemed to twitch into a mini spasm before he answered with ground teeth. "The box is quite large…I'm not small!"
Hughes blinked before waving that away as if it was simply a fly. "No no, I mean what happened to the stuff inside the box. All these boxes were filled with things that needed to be replenished for the camp back at Risembool." Hughes shook the now empty box. "How'd you fit inside the box?"
Golden eyes stared at him before he stubbornly turned his face away. "I made it."
An eyebrow rose. "You made it?" Hughes asked slowly. Subconsciously his hands slowly glided over the box, a perfect replica to the high-grade military all-terrain ones that had the Fuhrer's seal on them. His eyes slowly fell to follow the path his hands were making, marvelling in the child's work.
He didn't bother to ask how he made it. He worked among state alchemists, he knew that alchemy was everywhere. Age wasn't always a factor in one's skill, clearly not in a case like this.
"What's your name?" Hughes asked, eyes still fixed on the empty box.
Ed watched him reproachfully, trying to slide even more into the corner of the box he was pressed against. "Edward…"
Hazel eyes made an appearance once more and they shone with mirth.
"I'm Maes Hughes, Edward. And you have quite some talent. Maybe I'll let you slide after all." He said as grabbed the lid, put it back on the box and set it down casually on the ground, oblivious to the fact that the train was slowly beginning the lurch beneath their feet, pulling away from the station as the whistle trilled in the air.
Ed's scowl disappeared into mild shock as he just stared at the man blankly.
"Hell," Hughes continued. "I may just even spring you out when we stop at Central. With only an arm and a leg you're gonna need someone to help you get back into that box."
Ed couldn't even bring himself to say anything back, only gaping at how everything played out as Hughes grinned and slid the door open, closing it behind him with a solid thunk, never hearing the rustling of boxes and the other voice call out for his brother.
She woke with a scream tearing from her mouth, sweat drenching her forehead and eyes wide.
Her voice choked off as reality crashed around her and her hands trembled as they clutched at the sheets, squeezing reassurance from them. Her sheets, although usually silky and comforting, felt choking and suffocating and she was quick to throw them off as she swung herself upright, gulping in air.
'Just a dream. Just a dream Leenalee.'
She squeezed her eyes shut, forcing the images out of her head as she ran trembling hands through her hair, untangling the mess her long black locks had become.
"It's no use…" She whispered to the darkness of her room. She could still see them. There were so many of them, small thin bodies reaching up, forced upon command to grab the orb of innocence offered towards them, a room full of people watching…commanding…
Hands would reach the ball of light, grasping its warmth, and then there would be screams. Screams like nothing she had ever heard before. Tortured, brutalized, murdered screams as the light turned red and fierce, whipping out like razors and scouring the bodies, blood splashing and colouring the air.
Yet again and again they would try until they would die, the room of people shaking their heads while Leenalee peered through the crack in the door and screamed for their lives.
That was years ago and yet in her darkest of days it still haunted her.
'The fallen ones…'
Her body shuddered before her face screwed up and she cried silently into her hands, the innocence lying in her boots at her bedside thrumming to the beat of her heart.
Ed and Al discussed in length how much they could trust this Maes Hughes. They had overhead the few military men discuss leaving town and the opportunity seemed perfect. They had obviously discussed it in the short time period they had but it seemed quite clear what they had to do.
They had to leave too.
They had no life back in Risembool.
Most people had no life left in Risembool.
Fitting Ed into a transmuted box had been rather easy, with some help from Al, but the armored boy seemed very wary about taking himself apart. In the situation he was in it was justly granted. But the idea of leaving Risembool seemed to have sparked something inside Edward so he had taken great measures to reassure Al that he would be put together again and that Ed definitely knew how to do that.
Once Hughes had left Ed had immediately begun a very tiresome and rather difficult game of Marco Polo with his brother who was split up inside various boxes so as not to draw suspicion with how heavy the boxes were. It took at least four hours for Ed to find all the pieces and another three for Al to be completely assembled.
Assembling Al seemed to disturb Ed somewhat greatly despite the younger Elric's reassurances that he was alright and he couldn't feel anything, although that only reminded Ed of another fact of their situation which only worsened the mood. They spent two of the three hours trying to put him together by hand before Ed got frustrated and grabbed the chalk from the pocket of his pants, using alchemy to reassemble his metal brother.
He made sure to fix all the dents.
There was a knock on the door and they fell deathly silent, both halfway through an argument about the trust one should place in the military.
"Ed," Hughes whispered rather loudly from the other side of the door. "It's Hughes."
Ed frowned. "What are we best friends now?" Ed asked Al quietly, Al only shrugging. "Come in." Ed called back when he realized that he couldn't get up to reach the door and asking Al to do it would raise all sorts of questions. His wheelchair had been ditched in Risembool in a minor miscalculation. It couldn't very well fit in the box and they couldn't smuggle it aboard without raising suspicion. Until they reached a destination Ed had to rely on Al. and then make a new wheelchair out of alchemy.
The door slid open and Hughes was standing there, a small thing of food in his hands. He stepped inside and shut the door quickly and then suddenly seemed to realize he and Ed weren't alone.
"Oh."
Al didn't move a muscle.
And then Hughes seemed to remember something, blinking twice as he looked between the two. He remembered them. The people outside the tents all seemed to mesh together as sad as that may sound, but they had managed to catch his attention once or twice.
The armor definitely helped.
But it hadn't just been the hulking metal that caught his gaze. It had been the air around them. Everyone else had come flocking to the tents fighting.
Fighting for survival.
Fighting for clothes.
Fighting for treatment.
They had just stood there, staring and looking lost and defeated as the people formed and passed by them. Apparently they had more life in them than he imagined.
Remembering himself Hughes offered the food towards the smaller of the two.
"I brought you something. I don't think there's anything back here you can eat."
Ed watches him carefully and Hughes would've been unnerved if after a moment he slowly reaches his hand out and takes it. "…thanks." He offers slowly, casting a quick look to his brother before setting the food before him. Hughes nods to him, then to Al, and then leaves.
He does this several times more as the trip from Risembool to Central is two days and his curiosity about the boys seems to drive him. The more he visits the less wary they become and he begins to learn a little about them, bit by bit. And he finds them fascinating. It's on his 7th visit that everything changes.
"And so I was say—" He says as he watches Ed break chunks of his bread apart and eat slowly, still uneasy about eating with one hand. Then he stops suddenly, the two boys watching him as his head turns towards the door.
"What's wrong?" Al asks as Hughes walks over and slowly slides it open, peaking his head outside, wind whipping his hair as the train continues to whistle on its course.
"Smoke…there's a fire jus—"
The back of the train explodes.