AN: I am writing about winter in the sweltering heat of a triple digit August summer. Now THIS is what I call a creative stretch.
*bows many times * So sorry for the lateness of this update. But I can see now, albeit from one eye. :D or rather .D
Disclaimer: If I owned FMA, there'd be more Havoc x (Rebecca) Catalina.
Preparation: Part 3
One advantage to hiding during winter was that everyone was already bundled up in disguise. Even if anyone was at all recognizable through all the layers of sweaters, coats, gloves, hats, and scarves, it was just too damn cold to bother looking about to other bundled-up faces and share greetings.
Only in the shopping districts were people cheerily greeting each other and offering smiles. Storefront window displays were ablaze with tiny electrical bulbs of red, blue, white, and green, attracting passers-by to admire the miniature trains, villages, and toy makers. In every scene were miniature people joyfully giving and accepting exquisitely wrapped presents. This, to encourage the holiday cheer of the season that would guilt passers-by into buying a little something or two for some dear friend or neighbor or boss that may be comparing one's gift against another's. So it was that shoppers could be found even though the weather strongly encouraged curling in front of a snapping and flickering fire at home with a cozy blanket and well-worn book. No, pleasing others or rather, securing one's comfortable future relations with family, friends, and co-workers takes priority. Heaven forbid Aunt Doris feel snubbed. That would make the upcoming holiday party very awkward.
The two fugitives, human and homunculus, made a single trip to one of the smaller market streets to purchase more warm clothing which they changed into a couple blocks away. Lust was of course extremely disappointed to be forced to wear so much clothing, insisting that he really didn't mind the cold so much, but Hawkeye was adamant that he was not going to strut about the streets in the dead of winter half naked. Besides, did he not understand the concept of hiding?
He settled down once he realized he could walk arm-in-arm out in the open with the woman he loved as if they were actually a normal couple taking a casual stroll through the neighborhood. Instantly, winter was his favorite season. Let it snow.
And did it. All throughout the day a heavy, dark cloud blotted out the sky over the entire city, drifting down fat clumps of white flakes in absolute stillness. The snow dampened the sound of the entire city and gave the sound of their boots crunching and squeaking through the thickening snow on the walks an almost irreverent feel. Their breath puffed out in steamy clouds that froze nearly instantly and settled on their highly-wound scarves in a light white frost. Such a level of cold was very unusual in daytime, but the clouds (or cloud, as it hovered solid and unbroken over Central) were so full of moisture intended to be let down over the city that it blocked the light of the sun enough to keep the city in a perpetual dim dusk.
The falling white fluffs of ice fascinated the young Sin, who caught a few on an upturned gloved palm and peered at them so intently she could no longer see the whites of his eyes. When she suggested catching one on his tongue, it led to a light-hearted but absolutely serious chase for a fluff falling from the sky with his tongue thrust out as far as it could reach, darting this way and that. Hawkeye was barely able to contain her laughter behind her scarf at how delightfully ridiculous he looked. When he finally caught one, he turned to her with a triumphant open-mouthed smile and she dutifully clapped an applause with her thick gloves that only gave a puffing sound; judging by his satisfied smile as he took her arm once again, it was enough.
Both were dressed respectably and warm in long wool trench coats, Hawkeye's in light blue and wrapped in a crème colored scarf just up to her nose, and Lust in solid black with the collar lifted, a gray scarf draped casually over his shoulders and loosely wrapped a couple times around his neck, just enough to obscure the lower part of his face. A black and gray banded fedora pulled down low over his brow finished the winter costume.
Rattling trains never did suit the former First Lieutenant, with their occasional irregular sway that constantly tossed her from Lust's side amid the lulling regular swaying, and the frequent jarring movements that rattled her teeth together. Hawkeye was just covering a yawn with the back of her glove when Lust broke the comfortable silence of their walk.
"Oh, I should tell you... Dante has a new body."
Startled, Hawkeye's yawn was aborted and her hand dropped away, turning her head to stare at him in disbelief. "Did I hear you right?" she asked in a low tone. "Did you say a new body? I thought she was human!"
He nodded smugly, clearly pleased with himself to be able to provide useful information to her. At least his time had not been wasted in that house. "Yep, and she is human. She had the body of an old woman, but now she wears the skin of the young woman with wedged black hair she had working for her for a while. A rather severe look, but..." He shrugged without loosening his grip on her arm. "Eh. She still stinks to me. Smells like rot."
"She... took this woman's body?"
He nodded again. "It's this soul transfer thing she does to live forever, but it's not working so well anymore. Her bodies all start to decompose after a while, so she has to keep on skipping bodies."
She walked on, mulling over this new information in the sound-stifling quiet the snow provided. A clump of snowflakes fell on her cheek which she hurriedly bushed away.
"Your creator, the mind transfers, that's why they were so interested in her. Envy said the alchemist that created you was getting close to a breakthrough. It was all to fuel this woman's... vanity." Her eyes narrowed and the scarf hid the disgusted curl of her lip. "I can't believe they're actually killing and torturing countless human lives in the name of 'chimera research', just so this one woman can rob bodies and become immortal!"
Lust cleared his throat uncomfortably, barely shifting his eyes to the woman at his side. "There's something else you should know."
This can't be good. She took a breath to steady herself and mentally braced for whatever he had to say next, kicking through a snowdrift left by yet another neighbor that refused to shovel the walk. "Yes?"
"Scar is in Lior. There haven't been any alchemist deaths there yet, but Dante was happy to report that he's carving a huge transmutation circle around and through the entire city."
She stopped abruptly and Lust had to stomp his next pace to prevent pulling her forward and off her feet. Looking back, he saw her eyes staring ahead in horror.
"Riza?" No answer. "Riza?" he exclaimed, dropping her arm and spinning to face her and grasp her shoulders. A mini-eternity passed as he searched her face, then his anxious eyes winced. Whatever he saw there persuaded him to grasp her hands instead and lift them gently to his chest. She never noticed.
"They... They're there." Her voice sounded hollow, as distant as her gaze. "Havoc and Fuery were transferred to Lior. I think even Breda may be there, too. Falman's safe in the north... Rebecca is stationed in the East, so she might..." She clenched her eyes shut, hands closing into fists in her gloves. "I can't lose any more... I can't... I just can't-"
Lust abruptly crushed her to his chest and held her close, arms holding her securely against him and bowing his head to press cheek to cheek.
"I'm sorry, Riza. I'm so sorry. Everything is being taken from you, isn't it?" he murmured by her ear. "And you never had much to begin with, never asking for anything at all... but those you did have meant everything to you. Everything. I know. You put all your value in the people around you."
He paused, his warm breath warming the flesh of her cheek and ear for a few seconds, then the bitter cold air rushing in to chill the moisture of his breath again with each inhalation. It was all she could do to not shiver. "To lose every person you loved and cared about one by one, from your mother and father to... him. Then everything and everyone you've ever known was taken at once and now you can only run from those who in another life would have had to salute you. I can't imagine the helplessness you feel now."
The more he went on, the physically weaker she felt. Soon he was supporting her upright, her arms weakly pressed between their chests within the soft layers of their thick clothing. She buried her face into his coat and felt it catch the dampness that slipped from her eyes. Damn, but she felt tired. To the bone tired, and this god awful mess had only just begun.
Yes, it was all true. Things she would never dare openly admit, he did for her now.
The snow fell continually, unheeding of the two locked in a desperate embrace. Soft clumps of frozen flakes clung to her free-flowing hair, the flakes having the appearance of a starry night against the solid black. His cheek pressed to the side of her head, his lips close enough to her ear to speak softly.
"Everything and everyone you've ever known and loved and even your purpose for living was already taken, and... now you're scared even your remaining friends will be taken next. I know I'm a poor substitute, but... I'm still here." He lifted his head away to try and see her face, his arms still around her securely. "And it's not too late for them. You know the plan now, so you can let the military know and they won't play right into Dante's hands."
Hawkeye wiped at her eyes quickly, embarrassed at her show of weakness and avoiding his direct gaze. "I'm sorry... you're right," she breathed. "You're right. This is what we were planning to do in the beginning anyway. Slow and derail the homunculi's plans with the information you give me that I pass on to the right people. We... we can slow Scar somehow, at least. Maybe destroy the circle. Something. It's not over yet." She stood up taller and straightened her shoulders, nodding with a breath. "It's... it's okay. Thank you for telling me. Do you know how much time we have until Scar is expected to finish?" she ended in a stronger voice.
He still watched her intently, letting his hands rest on her shoulders. "Envy reported it will be done in a couple more weeks. There's still a little time."
"Two weeks. All right. Lior will be my first stop when I leave Central." While her voice was slightly muted, the normal strength and steadiness was back in her reddish-brown eyes. Stripped of nearly everything, Riza Hawkeye remained Riza Hawkeye.
Nodding, he pulled off his fedora and leaned in to press a tender and lingering kiss to her forehead, then touched their brows to look deeply into her eyes, their hair a matching black that blended seamlessly together as the sky began to dust his hair with icy stars as well. Her anxiety eased and melted away with the affection and reassurance. He eventually took a step back to take his place at her side again, offering his arm. Taking the arm, they began down the sidewalk once more.
"Lust," she whispered. "You cut me to the quick. Don't... don't do that. Please."
He smiled gently and watched her from the corner of his narrow lilac eyes. "You're welcome."
The pair wandered a seemingly aimless path through the lower-middle class streets of east Central.
Lust's first memories were made during a time of confusion and great stress, so she didn't expect him to be able to trace his way back to his first home so easily. It was taking a few hours of constant walking, however, and Hawkeye was beginning to mind the throbbing ache of the cold creeping and biting into her wound. They were growing more concerned that he might never be able to recognize the place before the invisible sun began its descent when he finally slowed to a stop before a red brick building on a corner lot, staring up at the white portico that led to a weathered white door. A realty sign hung around one of the colonnades offering the house for sale.
"Is this it?" she asked quietly.
Locked onto the facade of the building, he didn't answer right away. She could feel a tension in the biceps that supported her injured arm that wasn't there before.
"Yeah. This is it. I remember this door."
His expression was strange and a little unreadable, which was unusual for her. Normally she could read his expressions like a book through her experience with the former Colonel.
"Lust? Are you okay with this? We don't have to go in if you're not completely sure you're ready."
His eyes hardened through his fine spray of black bangs and his chest rose and fell in a purposeful breath. "No. We're here, let's go."
Still watching him more than the building, she nodded in silent support and took the concrete steps carefully. The first few steps were covered in a light inch of snow, but the rest of the porch was protected from the weather and safe to cross.
"It's lucky no one else moved in after her death," she noted with a glance at the "For Sale" sign. It looked a bit weathered as well, valiantly pleading its cause through the last summer, fall, and now winter. "But if she was Xing, that would complicate things. Technically it's illegal for foreigners to own land in Amestris, but that law is 'ignored' in favor of a quick sale in this tight wartime economy. It only gets messy when inheritance is involved."
Lust nodded, but his mind was elsewhere. He was walking slowly to the door as if he were in a light trance, reaching for the knob and of course finding it locked. He frowned at the offending thing and lifted his hand away to pull off the warm glove briskly to build up some clear acid on his bare palm.
Hawkeye reached out quickly to grasp his wrist and restrain him. "No! Don't do that, they'll know you've been here! You're trying to build their trust, and if they find out you're investigating anything about your past or Roy's, it's all over."
Frowning, the acid faded until it disappeared from his palm within a matter of seconds and he pulled the glove back on. "Then what do you suggest?" he asked with a hint of irritation.
Good question. It was only mid-afternoon so they couldn't simply break it down without rousing the attention of nosy neighbors. She reached out and tried to twist the handle but met the resistance of a lock, but a brief shaking revealed the deadbolt was not engaged. She bent and squinted at the place where the door met the jam. "There looks to be enough room here," she said, rising upright and pointing for Lust's benefit. "If you could use your claw to break the molding, you can reach the latch and wiggle a bit until it goes back in the door. It would easily pass as bored kids or desperate burglars."
Raising one hand already clawed, the Sin leaned in closer and slipped two claws between the molding and door and pulled back, the wood splintering into fragments with ease. Following her instructions and wiggling a claw onto the latch, he had the door open in less than ten seconds. It swung open with an elongated squeak.
The living room had been cleared out all personal effects and cleaned for new tenants. The cleaning must have occurred months ago, judging by the thin, even layer of dust that covered every surface and tickled Hawkeye's nose with an enclosed, musty smell. A fireplace mantel of white brick stood opposite the wall that faced the street, which held three large windows to fill the room with light in the daytime. Rich, dark hardwood flooring covered the entire flat, which complimented the white walls charmingly. Only the small kitchen situated next to the front door had white tile, but the wood grain of the cupboards matched the rest of the flooring throughout the home. It all tied together to make a homey atmosphere, and in the daylight would be even more pleasant. Unfortunately, the overcast skies and window shutters kept the little home in darkness.
This was Lust's investigation, so she stepped aside and let him explore the surroundings at his own speed. While she meandered into the living room, he bounded up the stairs. There was no heat in the building, but it was sheltered from the steady snowfall and cold air outside so she took off the scarf and overcoat, stuffing her gloves in a generous pocket and laying it out over a kitchen counter. Human transmutation circles would be drawn on the floor and took up a lot of space, so she walked into the largest room in the home, inspecting the floor without expecting anything. All sign of anything out of place or relating to alchemy would have been meticulously removed by whoever handled such matters from the labs, but she would be remiss if she didn't even take a look. She had seen one before, the gory aftermath of a failed attempt in Resenbool. Actually, it wasn't an entirely failed attempt as she had so recently discovered.
"I wonder how long ago this- oh, right." Hawkeye turned around with lips parted to ask a question, but Lust wasn't there. Half a minute later he appeared around the bend at the top of the staircase and stepped almost silently down the stairs while shedding his coat. That garment was draped over the horizontal part of the banister at the foot of the stair, and the hat and scarf followed.
"Lust," she asked once he reached the lower floor. "How old are you?"
The man proudly displayed five fingers.
Hawkeye snorted and clapped a hand over her mouth to keep in a laugh at the innocent, childlike display. How cute! Elycia did the same to show her age.
Clearing her throat, she quickly recovered and nodded in acknowledgment. "Five months. That would make it... July. The very month Roy was murdered. Envy was right about how fast your creator acted after his death."
He hooked his thumbs in the pockets of the leather pants and lofted a brow at her strange reaction to his age, then shrugged and dismissed it with a nonchalant air. "Nothing upstairs, in case you were wondering." Finally he looked down to the floor of the living room he had been avoiding. "So Envy wasn't lying about that part, hm?"
"Seems so." Hawkeye followed his gaze and remained quiet with him for a while. Her thoughts were inexorably drawn to the question of the possibility that Roy's soul once graced this room five months ago. Finally, "Can you tell me about it?" she invited gently. "Your first memories, how it all happened."
His mind was already there; the heavy and distant expression said it all. First one step, then another, each as heavy as a condemned man walking to the gallows, and he turned and knelt with a hand to the floor to face a certain significant location in his memory.
At first he would not lift his eyes from his splayed fingers supporting him, but he deliberately lifted his eyes to a spot on the floor a few feet ahead of him. Teeth gritting, he took a quick breath through his nose and plowed ahead.
"The first thing I ever saw was a woman laying on her side along the floor and watching me with a smile. Blood ran from both corners of her mouth, but she never stopped smiling up at me. It was... frightening. Everything was terrifying, and the pain..." He clenched his eyes shut tight, closing his supporting fingers into a fist pressed to the hardwood. "Damn, I... couldn't think of anything else except the pain and fear. Only... only my back felt no pain. Just a warmth that left almost right away. I had no idea what was going on. It was my first experience of anything."
Hawkeye's attention diverted from his face to his back, swallowing silently.
Lust pried his eyes open and forced himself to stare at the spot on the floor that was filled with the image in his memory. "And then she spoke and pushed some red stones across the floor to me, telling me to eat them quickly, it will stop the pain. So I reached out, and... was shocked by the black and red thing that reached out to take them. My arm, that was my arm, but it was half-formed with exposed bone and muscle and strings of black skin. She told me to hurry so I did what she said, her voice was so... soothing and reassuring somehow. Very soft. I trusted it. I grabbed the stones and tried to ignore the sight of my own body. It got better right away once I ate them. The pain faded away and I felt my body change... ease into something more natural and sort of... fill out. The relief I felt was incredible, all I could do was lay there and breathe hard. We kept watching each other, she smiling the entire time so softly, and then after a while I realized she wasn't moving. Not even breathing. Then I got scared again."
Off to the side and leaning against the wall by the fireplace, Hawkeye stood a silent sentinel over the man grappling with the remembered fear of a child. Her arms were folded over her chest in a way that supported her injured arm and also restrained herself to remain still. Part of her wanted to go to him and offer the comfort he needed in that memory, but the wiser part of her allowed him to face it alone. Sometimes one must walk a path alone or not at all - but he was never really alone.
"I looked at my hands and arms but they were different. Not black with exposed bone anymore, but with whole skin. I looked more like the woman on the floor now. But-" Lust groaned and faced away from the alchemist in his memory and Hawkeye both. "I really was pathetic. I was still scared, so I tried to hide somewhere. I didn't know how to move my body well, so I crawled to curl up in a corner of the room. I don't know how long I stayed there, but eventually I calmed down enough to get up, learn how to use my legs, and began exploring the room."
He gathered himself to his feet and brushed his hands off brusquely. The dust of pink on his cheeks betrayed just how hard it was to admit all this out loud: Lust at his most weak and childlike state. Darting his eyes around the empty room for some distraction, he walked around a large portion of the room, which she knew to be the place the woman died, and pointed to a spot only a few feet in front of him near the wall farthest of the kitchen. "I found some clothes laid out here on the small sofa and tried them on. Kept some, left some."
"Lust," Hawkeye finally spoke. "You're not wearing women's clothes."
He turned to face her, an eyebrow picking up a fast tic in a very Roy-like gesture of exasperation. "Of course I'm not wearing women's clothes. What kind of comment is that?"
"No," she corrected with unwavering patience. "I mean you're not wearing women's clothes. She bought men's clothing for you. She was trying to provide for you from the very beginning."
Surprised, he looked down at himself and slid his hands with unconscious sensuality down the smooth leather coat. "Yeah. Definitely not. Its like they were made for me. Perfect fit," he ended with a nod of finality.
Hawkeye pushed off the side of the fireplace and approached him with arms still folded, also avoiding the spot Lust had out of respect for the deceased. She stopped beside him and regarded the avoided spot on the hardwood.
"She wanted you. She cared about you, enough to give her life and provide for you the best she could before she left this world. You were born from love and hope, not something bad." After a little thought, she added, "I find it somewhat ironic that both you and Roy had Xing mothers. I believe she died of illness when Roy was two; she never quite recovered from the birth."
Lust stared at her, not the floor. She pretended not to notice, to let him process everything he had been discovering here in the privacy of his own mind. She felt his eyes fall to her injured arm, then back to that spot. He folded his arms hard over his chest; she could hear the crinkle of the leather as it strained against the grip of his fingertips.
"No more women will die for me," he pronounced in a low tone, a hint of a growl rumbling underneath. She looked over and was held by the firm set of his eyes and jaw.
"Alright," she allowed. "Though I had no plans on dying, anyway."
Before they could enact the last and most suicidal part of their plan in Central (for that day, at least), they had to wait for night to fall and deepen. There was no better plan to wile away the time in a warm place than getting a bite to eat. Hawkeye was famished by the time they had left the empty home, anyhow.
Most places were too brightly lit and cheerful to provide the privacy the pair needed. The place they finally settled on was a bar and grill that was really more bar than grill, but it had only stained glass windows and stained glass lampshades over the dimmed lights hanging over the sticky wood tables, so it was perfect. Only one waitress served the tables that night. The pace was so slow due to the continuing snowfall that she spent much of her time chatting at the end of the bar with the burly barkeep who wiped clear mugs to a crystalline shine and laughed at nearly anything she had to say.
"Didn't they feed you in that house?" Hawkeye looked at him with a brow quirked in amazement, fork paused in midair. A bead of red vinaigrette dripped from the knot of lettuce and spinach leaves back to her plate.
Lust had tucked into his steak and eggs as if it were the first thing he had eaten in a week. Stabbing another forkful of steak and hash browns, the homunculus paused only to give her a flat look. "Gluttony lives there too, remember?"
Her brows disappeared behind her splayed fringe of hair in understanding. "Oh." Picturing while trying not to picture that monster devouring everything in sight, the sniper turned back to finishing her salad. Long-ingrained habits ruled that dinner must be taken in order, just as her father had taught her. The salad would be finished before she could start on her own steak. It wasn't easy. The sharply bitter and blessedly sweet tastes of the salad and dressing did not taste nearly as appetizing as it did before the steaming and sizzling plate of steak, potatoes, and eggs arrived. The seasonings were visible on the glistening surface of her entree and she could almost taste it on her tongue. The combined scents of both courses was so strong it nearly burned her nose. Hawkeye sighed and tore her eyes from it to hurriedly spear a few more leaves of greenery so she could move on.
Maybe she was moving too slow.
"Are you going to eat your steak?" he asked hopefully, leaning closer with eyes darting between her and her plate, ready to grab it the moment she gave the word. The fork in his hand twitched in anticipation.
Exasperated, "Yes!" She shoved her unfinished salad plate away and pulled the heavy plate in front of her, glaring at Lust in a silent warning.
The black-haired man shrugged in staged and exaggerated nonchalance and returned focus on his own plate. She could have sworn she saw him smirk before another piece of steak disappeared into his mouth.
When Lust was long done (and staring hungrily at either her or her dinner, she couldn't tell which) and Hawkeye was winding up her own meal, the server pushed away from the bar and made her way to their table.
"Are you two about ready for dessert?" she asked brightly while pulling out a pad of paper from her apron with pen at the ready.
Lust draped his arm over the back of his chair and half turned to face her, a playful smirk on his face. "Dessert, huh? What would you... suggest?"
After so much time with him, Hawkeye had gotten used to his constant suggestiveness and sexual insinuations. Not until the server blushed and tucked her chin shyly did she remember that not everyone was immune to his charms. She rolled her eyes and scooped up another forkful of potatoes.
"W-we have hot apple and pumpkin pie, and you can have that a la mode, if you'd like. There's also hot apple cider with cinnamon as well."
Lust zeroed in on the girl's shyness, his narrow eyes suggesting many things. He rested his cheek to his fist, elbow propped on the edge of the table. "Dessert sounds absolutely enticing. It really wraps up the meal nicely, doesn't it? Like that little smile after a kiss."
The waitress flushed and smiled, glancing at the raven-haired woman at the table. Hawkeye pretended to ignore them both and finished up with her own plate. Apparently taking it as confirmation that the two were not on a date, the girl focused her renewed attention on the man in front of her, lifting the pad to her chest with slender arms comfortably crossed in a way that better showed rather than hid her breasts. "That's... a lovely way of putting it. I agree. So what would you like me to get for you tonight?"
"On such a cold night... something warm and sweet, very moist, with a bit of spice... But I should probably order dessert first, right? Hehe- OW!" The sultry look on his face disappeared in the instant his knee jerked up hard enough against the underside of table to send the dishes clattering. Lust turned to cast a disgruntled look to Hawkeye but froze the moment he saw her glaring expression. The sharp kick to his shin was nothing compared to the peeved and exasperated look she gave him that silently conveyed the message I'm right HERE!
Lust cleared his throat and straightened in his chair to face his companion sheepishly, avoiding looking up at the server for now. "What would you like, dear?" he asked sweetly.
"One order of apple pie a la mode with a mug of hot cider. We'll share." Hawkeye glared daggers at the both of them until the confused girl hurried away, throwing wary glances over her shoulder to the woman at the table.
"What were you-"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Lust rushed in, leaning closer to her over the table and drawing a palm over his eyes. "I just... couldn't help myself. I'm Lust, remember. Lust incarnate can't resist lust. I could feel the heat rising up in her body and..." He lifted a hand helplessly, shaking his head, at a loss for words.
"Like a moth to a flame," she sighed, shaking her head.
"The only thing to do is keep me sated," he counseled gravely, lifting his eyes hopefully to her face.
"You're incorrigible." But there was a hint of a smile on her lips. "Besides, you'd better prepare for a dry spell. We're going to be apart for a while again."
The man shifted in his seat and looked away. "Don't worry about that." All playfulness had disappeared.
Hawkeye gave him a curious look but something in his tight expression told her not to inquire further. She suspected something was amiss, but dropped the subject for his sake.
The cold was in their favor in many ways. It first allowed them good disguises that allowed them to walk almost anywhere in the city unhindered. Secondly, it sent most of the population indoors. Third, it made those whose unlucky scheduling forced them into outdoor guard duty on a cold winter night to not be at their most alert and mobile. Those individuals, Hawkeye knew, would not move around more than absolutely necessary, preferring instead to focus on the all-time most popular winter activity: stamping their feet, blowing, and exclaiming to one another how blasted cold it was. Less mobile and alert military police meant less of a chance that they would be discovered trespassing on military property.
"I've heard them mention the destruction of Lab 5, talk about how it set them back a bit. Dante especially hates it because they were focusing on the stone there. Focus was moved here after that," Lust explained in hushed tones as they walked arm in arm along the chilled streets. They had learned a lot at the site of Lust's birthplace and ever since they had left the home, the Sin seemed to walk a little taller. His newfound curiosity had grown along with a soft determination that shined in his eyes, not hidden by the shadow of the fedora.
The couple approached the lab's fenced in exterior, following the sidewalk a few feet before Lust slowly came to a stop. Halfway between the front and back gates, the decorative stone columns offered somewhat of a blind spot for the guards stationed there. The Sin scanned the immediate area and back to the still falling snow that was covering their tracks. "We have to move now," he whispered before crouching, lowering himself to one knee. "You're still hurt. If you can hold onto my back, I'll get us both over."
With one last glance around the empty streets, Hawkeye looked down to the crouching man and paused, thinking it over briefly. She bent and unbuttoned the bottom half of her coat to just under her waist before climbing onto his back with care, her good arm around his shoulders and the bad loosely curled around his chest. Since both his hands were needed to scale the fence, she was forced to use her thighs to keep a grip on him.
Once he was sure her grip was secure, Lust stood and took hold of the metal bars and pulled himself up, feet finding purchase upon the small brick wall that made up the bottom half of the fence. Standing there allowed him to reach the top and pick his way carefully over the top. Those spear points were not decorative, but by some miracle they managed to get over the points at the top of the iron fence without a single incident or injury. The man lowered himself to the other side and ducked within the brush so Hawkeye could take to her feet once more.
"We didn't pull anything, did we?" Violet eyes quickly scanned her form despite the fact that he wouldn't see anything under the thick layers of clothing she wore.
Once safe on the ground, she slid off as quietly as possible and crouched low into the foliage. "No, it's fine," she assured him. "Can you see anyone?"
Lust craned his neck, scanning the immediate area for signs of more guards. He soon shook his head. "No," he answered in a whisper, "but I think I see our way in." He jerked his head to a ground floor window just ahead of them.
She nodded curtly, all business now that they were on a mission. "Remember: no evidence of entry or exit, Lust. I doubt anyone would leave a window open or unlocked in this weather."
He nodded again, keeping the speaking as minimal as possible to not attract attention. "So what do you suggest? There's some kind of vent further to the left, but it looks really small."
Spying the vent he was seeing, she had to agree. "Looks like a bathroom vent anyway." But the mention of a vent gave her an idea. Leaning forward, she pushed a small branch gently away, but the motion was still enough to disturb the precarious snow and topple a small amount to the ground. She froze with branch in hand, eyes cutting to the guards at the gates, but the small, innocuous sound went completely unnoticed. Hawkeye leaned forward again to look up through the gap in the branches to the roof.
"There's some up top for ventilation, it's the same for almost every military building around here. They have big fan blades in front of them, but those are covered during winter. If you could get in that way and make your way down, you can open that window for me." She tilted her head to the first window he had noticed.
"Alright. I'll hurry." Casting his gaze upwards, he nodded again before silently stepping forward through the brush. He scanned the area once more before crouching then jumping as high as he could. He climbed to the first ledge, then the second and third, pulling himself up to the third story's roof. Bending low to minimize his profile, he pressed himself to the fourth floor wall and climbed to the very top of the building. From there his profile disappeared and she had to wait. Anxious minutes stretched on and she glanced at the men at the front gate again and again. If he was caught, they would be notified by radio. Finally, the window she was watching moved up a few inches to let her know he had arrived.
Giving the gate a final glance, the woman ran low and hunched over to the window and helped him slide it all the way up. From there it was easy to sit on the sill, swing her legs inside, and slide into the silent and darkened room. She found herself in a break room. A few metal chairs surrounded a single round military-issue table; two rectangular tables lined the walls with two coffee makers, a small selection of coffee cans, ceramic cups, creamers, a couple empty boxes of donuts, and the other usual fare found in rooms like this in office buildings around the world. The wet squeak of her boot drew her attention to the mud and slush she had just deposited on the waxed linoleum. A quick look around produced a stack of napkins, which she used to clean the bottom of her boots and the puddle on the floor before either could make clear tracks down to the more interesting lab beneath.
Lust's climb and the walk across the roof had managed to clean his boots of snow and water or else he would have left trail through the entire building. Inching towards the door, he cast a glance back to Riza while stuffing his warm gloves into a coat pocket. "The stairs aren't too far away and they look like they go down another flight."
"Alright. Follow me," she said, following his example with the gloves. "I don't know how good your memories are of this place. Be my eyes and ears, okay?"
Without waiting for a reply, she slid with her back against the wall around the corner, checking down both ends of the hall before she began to lead the way.
Lab 3 wasn't a very large building, but it was a fairly large facility altogether with the underground portion factored in. Most of the area beneath was unknown to her, but all that mattered was finding the area Lust's mother most likely worked.
Lust simply let her lead and followed a couple feet behind. He didn't have any memory of this section, but the mention of lab 3 itself sparked something within him. Passing through one of the lower hallways, he paused outside a darkened room.
She stopped with him, looking in the same direction alertly. Not daring to draw attention to them if she could help it, she only looked to Lust in a silent question.
"I... remember this place." He paused, then stepped through the doorway. "Well, its in my memories. Mustang was here, with..." He mentally searched for the name. "Havoc. And they both faced..." There was another pause but his eyes widened, hands sliding into his pockets. "Lust."
She stayed in the doorway, now remembering that the close call with death both men had experienced in this room. "Yes," she said hesitantly, quickly looking down the hall both ways to make sure they remained undetected. "Lieutenant Havoc missed being paralyzed by a hairsbreadth." She focused on Lust, worried how he would accept this new memory. "That was the old Lust. A woman with an Oroborus on her chest, and nails that could slice through anything."
Watching the memory for himself, he soon winced. "Yeah, I can see that. It left him with a nasty scar, though, both of them." The Sin shook his head and turned away from the semi-familiar scene. "I could easily become lost in this, but this is a dangerous place and we have things to do."
She nodded and stepped back from the doorway to let him pass. As he did so, she reached out to let her hand brush the top of his shoulders, the only break in her all-business attitude she allowed. After that, she led him further within the laboratory.
Rooms were filled with chimera of all sorts of horrifying combinations. While perfectly legal, the screeching lizard-fowl and grunting goat-boar hybrids that paced and scratched the metal cages disgusted Hawkeye on a deeper level. It felt as if the existence of such creatures was an affront to her humanity. Watching Lust's back as he passed her in front of yet another row of cages, she forced her mind silent. What defined" human" these days, anyhow?
"To be honest, Lust, I have no idea what we're looking for here. All I know is we won't see an office with her name on the door."
"Neither do I. All I know about her, you know, too. Mind transfers, copies..." He sighed but continued to follow her. "We'll have to search files, subjects. But all in all, this may be a useless search. There's no guarantee we'll even find anything, but I just have to try before it's all covered up. Who knows, they may have already done it."
"Yes," she agreed softly. It may be a wild goose chase, or maybe her will 'o the wisp had taken her down another circling path. One room seemed quieter than the rest, lined with larger cages. It seemed safer to wander through than the last that, if she had to guess, held howler monkeys judging by the cacophony, and less likely to alert others. The experiments in this area of the lab seemed more advanced than the rest. The creatures weren't as grotesque, misshapen. Some special cages were more like prison cells that held humans that looked, in form, as perfect as any other human.
"These... aren't like normal chimera." The man slowed his pace and bent low enough to look into one of the animal cages. "Do you think this could be it?" He asked, a soft hint of growing excitement in his voice. What they found may not be what they wanted to know, but it was at least something. "She worked with minds, not combining animals and humans." Violet eyes pulled away from the various experiments and focused hopefully upon Riza.
The (former) blonde was not the one with the answers this time, but maybe she could pose the right questions. One man nested in a pile of hay in a corner of the next cell was staring at them anxiously. Hawkeye cleared her throat and leaned closer, leaning a hand against the thick bars. "Excuse me... Sorry for disturbing your sleep, but could you tell me what's going on in this room?"
Intrigued, Lust moved to stand beside her, bending at the waist and watching the caged man. The young Sin held his breath as he waited.
The man made no response. She opened her mouth to repeat herself and in a flash the man lunged at the bars of the cage, growling and barking at her. Stunned, Hawkeye backpedaled a couple steps to get out of the range of his clawing arms.
"You won't get anything out of him, love," a hoarse voice from behind informed her.
She spun to face the source, a hand thrusting into her coat for the loaned pistol until it sunk in that she was facing yet another cage. A dry chuckle echoed hollowly from the prison at her reaction.
"You don't belong here," the voice stated matter-of-factly. Hawkeye stepped forward with caution, ignoring the eerie frustrated barks behind her and squinting into the darkness.
"Who are you?" Lust demanded, on edge after the attempted attack. Both hands were readied and clawed at his sides.
Another hoarse chuckle from the dark cage, then a scuffling sound as a naked man drew closer to the bars and into the dim light of the room. A few months worth of neglected beard growth hid his jaw and left his hair long and stringy.
"Who? I haven't been asked that in a while now." The man leaned against the bars and clung to it with a scrawny hand. "Private First Class Henry Riggs, once upon a time, before I ended up in this hell."
Hawkeye's mouth was a straight thin line, one hand clenched tightly at her side as she stared hard at the metal bars of the cage. Just what separated herself and the men and women she worked with every day from this man? Who was chosen to be more "worthwhile" as a human or as a chimera, and who made those horrible and disgusting choices? Martel's squad was chosen to be chimeras to cover up some dirty military acts in Ishval (as if hers were any more honorable), and Hughes was killed when he got too close to truths like these, and Mustang-
Another voice erupted from the cage immediately right of Henry's. "Don't believe a word of it!" A hand emerged from between the bars to shake an emphatic finger at Hawkeye. "He's not Henry Riggs, I am! He's just an experiment, the idiot." Abruptly startled from her dark thoughts, she blinked and looked between the two men. The intruder in their conversation was in the same shape as the first man, only with nearly black hair instead of the first Henry's light brown.
"W-what?" Surprise sapped her of eloquence. Hearing about mind copies didn't compare to actually seeing it in person. Even the man at her side appeared frustrated, raking a hand through his hair and looking between both cages with narrowed eyes.
The second Henry jabbed a finger to the first cage. "That's just an experiment. They took my mind and memories and planted it into his empty head. My memories are real. I remember everything, even the transmutation that made that thing!"
Heaving a weary sigh, the first man shook his head and waved a dismissive hand to his roommate. "Ignore him, love. He's just an angry bastard with identity issues he's not handling well, as if that weren't obvious already!" He turned his head towards the offender and yelled the last.
"Shaddup, puppet-man," Henry #2 retorted.
"Listen, we don't have time for this," Lust broke in, a muscle in his brow twitching in irritation. "Did a Xing woman do this? Do you remember seeing one here?"
"Oooh yeah, I remember that broad," Henry #2 drawled out, leaning back against the metal wall of his personal prison. "She sure was the one responsible for all this. Why do you care, and sneaking into a place like this anyway? What, you related to her or something?"
"Something like that."
"Haven't seen her in ages. Hope she's rotting in some cage, too, it's what the bitch deserves. Hopefully with some mix of pig, or- oh!" He rose a finger to make his point, a wicked glee shining in his hazel eyes. "Better yet, a rat! Whatever is more disg-"
"Do you ever shut up?" Henry #1 groaned, rubbing a hand over his forehead as if nursing a growing headache. "I apologize for him, you two. He probably ended up here in the first place because of his obnoxiousness. I can see him pissing off the wrong brass..."
Lust spoke over the second man's grumbling complaints to ask the first, "So she was here, then disappeared? What happened after that?"
"Ah, well..." Henry #1 stared off into the hall the pair had come from, rubbing the metal bar with a thumb. "She was here and was in charge of everything alchemy-wise all right, but she wasn't happy about it. Treated us well enough, despite..." His free hand waved around his pitiful arrangements. "There's the baddies and the BIG baddies, you know? Here, the enemies of your enemies are still not your friends. When she didn't come back one day, I figured she finally run right off, you know? The big baddies were pissed off enough to give me that impression. Thought they were finally going to kill us all, which is fine by me-"
"Speak for yourself..." Henry #2 grumbled.
"I am, you fool! But if all they took was you, I'd still be all right by that!" The first Henry huffed and looked back up to the man and woman standing patiently outside his cage. "No, I think we're just kept in living storage until they find an alchemist that can figure out how that Xingese woman done all this."
Lust had folded his arms and bowed his head, a long sigh making his bowed shoulders slowly rise and fall. "Still no closer," he mumbled.
Brows knit, she looked from one Henry to the other. "I disagree."
Lust lifted his head and stared at her.
Hawkeye tossed a thumb in Henry #2's direction. "He's an asshole."
"Hey!"
"Shut up, you dolt, you know it's true," the first Henry droned.
Lust continued to stare at her blankly.
She sighed. The homunculus' failure to grasp details and put them together to solve a puzzle like Roy Mustang did without effort only emphasized the point she was trying to make.
"They both claim to be the same Henry Riggs with the same memories, but they're completely different. A mind does not a soul make. Everyone is still able to make independent choices, feel his own feelings, have his own opinions." She looked through the bars to the first Henry with sympathy, who was listening attentively. "Your personality, your soul, is what makes you you. Not your mind or memories."
All present fell into contemplative silence that stretched nearly a full minute. Even the man that had barked at them earlier was languidly laying back in the hay and scratching himself.
"You'd better get out of here while you still can," Henry #1 warned softly.
"I refuse!"
"Al-"
"No, Ed! I can't just leave you here like this! Not now."
The smaller blond folded his arms and bowed his head with a soft grunt of frustration. The towering suit of armor stared resolutely at him with gauntlets clenched, unmoved.
"It's not safe in the city-"
"Come on, brother," Alphonse broke in. "It's not safe anywhere. At least I can help protect Rose."
Both brothers reflexively looked toward the ever-growing temporary military base that spread out over three square miles. Nary a full mile from the base rose the desert abodes of the inhabitants of Lior. But the greater threat stood with arms folded firmly over his chest, long rat-tail of hair tied at the base of his skull and grinning at the brothers. Kimblee was far enough away to not hear the conversation, but not far enough away for the boys to escape the threat of his very presence.
"Stupid ass of a colonel and his 'no non-military personnel in military installations' bullcrap... Archer's let a little power go to his head." Edward Elric sighed hard and scratched his head in chagrin. "Fine, fine," he conceded with heavy reluctance. "Watch over Rose, but be careful. Don't forget to protect yourself, too." Looking up at his little brother with his hand on the back of his neck, there was no hint of good humor or even a ghost of a smile in his expression. Something so flat and defeated had never been seen on Ed's face before, and it hurt Alphonse to have to leave him like this, alone and thrown to the wolves.
The armor made a sighing sound and creaked in the act of slumping, but it was not from relief.
"Hey," Ed forced a smile. "Don't forget to oil your armor. The sand gets everywhere."
"Yeah." Al nodded. "I will."
"They have a radio. Sargent Fuery can relay messages somehow for us. We'll figure out something, but we have to be careful. We're all walking on thin ice as it is."
"Only in an emergency, okay? I don't want to get them in trouble. It's already bad enough, we can't drag anyone down with us."
Ed's expression shifted fast to something hard and angry, hand falling to his hip and the red coat folding around his white gloved hand. "Don't worry. I won't let that happen. I'll do whatever it takes to protect them, and you." The simple mention of his brother eased some of the anger away, the tension washing away from his body. "That's why I wish you would just go to Winry and have a nice holiday, safe from all this."
"I said I'm not leaving you," Al insisted, then gestured to Lior. "Even if Archer won't let me stay at the base with you, I'll be close by. At least we'll know where each of us are and if something happens to one of us, the other can help."
They stood staring at each other, neither knowing when they'd be able to speak together again. Never being separated like this before, they had no idea how to say goodbye, nor had they any desire to ever say that word.
"I guess I'll... see you later."
"Yeah." Alphonse's voice sounded more hollow than usual.
"Be careful, Al."
"You too. Especially you; don't be such a hothead."
"Out of the frying pan, into the fire, eh, Al?" Ed chuckled dryly.
"Heh, yeah," the youngest Elric said without enthusiasm.
Alphonse raised a fist out to his brother. Ed paused only a moment before raising his automail arm and pressing his own fist to his. Without a further word, they turned away from each other and walked in opposite directions across the desert sand: Edward back to the military base and the waiting Kimblee, and Alphonse to the hotbed of civil unrest known as Lior. Neither looked back once.
The rations for State Alchemists were much improved over the common foot soldier, something Edward Elric could not make himself appreciate. Whatever they put on his tin plate had no taste to him, anyway. At first he tried to eat in the mess hall with the few State Alchemists the military had called in, but being so young isolated him from the older, more experienced alchemists. Sometimes he could strike up a casual conversation about alchemy and theories, but Edward, the child prodigy, was quickly discovered to be beyond their own capabilities, and in embarrassment and indignant silent seething the topic was soon dropped. Ed was ostracized by his fellows, even though he was now forced to wear the regulation military blues to be indistinguishable from the rest.
Edward found sitting by a fire outside with the lowest ranked soldiers much more preferable. They had no desire to talk about alchemy and were the freshest from the civilian world, leaving them less jaded or tainted by military life.
Distracted by the hypnotizing lick of flames of the campfire, Edward set the metal fork back to his plate with a flat clack and forced down another bite of what was supposed to be chicken a ala king but tasted suspiciously like the tuna casserole from last night. It was hard to tell what sort of meal it was supposed to be when there was perhaps one or two bits of actual meat in the slop. Still lost in the flames, he wasn't aware of the danger until a heavy arm fell over his shoulders and Kimblee sat down hard on the wood bench beside him. The arm was so heavy that Ed almost lost his grip on the tin plate of rations in his hands. He snapped a sneer at the man and tried to shrug the arm off, but the man gripped his opposite arm more firmly.
"What do you think you're doing, Kimblee?" the boy snarled.
Ever beaming a friendly smile to the teenager, Kimblee leaned in close to mutter conspiratorially into Edward's ear.
"I just wanted to let you in on a little secret," he began, the warm breath moving over Ed's ear making the teen shiver. "Above anyone in the city, we always know where Rose is."
Kimblee paused for effect. The bastard lived for effect.
"We also know right where to go to find a rat that has been helping the rebel cause and exterminate him into little metal bits." The Crimson Alchemist raised a hand to display the array tattooed upon his palm. "And... his State Alchemist brother will be implicated in spying for the enemy, and meet a just execution. Though that particular duty would have to fall on Colonel Archer, your superior officer," he finished in a disappointed tone.
A tremble ran through Edward's body, every muscle clenching in barely restrained rage. Even the false muscle of automail reflexed to clutch the metal fingers harder on the tin plate of "chicken a la king" still in hand.
"Are you accusing me of defection, treason?" the blond uttered through clenched teeth. Hatred radiated from his narrowed golden eyes.
Kimblee broke into a grin. "Oh no, I'd never!" he answered brightly, but then the grin shifted to a sly smirk, his voice becoming absolutely serious. "Without evidence. It just doesn't look good that the brother of a State Alchemist is working alongside insurrectionists. Now if you communicated in any way, things would get very hairy, I'm afraid."
Edward said nothing. He didn't trust himself to speak, afraid of saying something he would deeply regret immediately after. Al warned him to not be such a hothead. One misstep and either Kimblee or Archer would falsely claim Alphonse was inciting political dissent and spying for the enemy, both capital crimes in Amestris. Guilt by association was all the evidence needed to eliminate the both of them. Instead of venting his fury he stared icily at the mass murderer by his side and bit his tongue until it bled.
The Crimson Alchemist pushed up from his seat with a grunt, using Edward's shoulder as support. "Good to see you're on the right path, kid," he smirked. "Just follow your orders and you'll have a smooth, easy career." With a couple heavy pats to his back that rocked the teen forward, the "former" madman shoved his hands in his pockets, spun in place, and sauntered off, leaving Edward alone with his thoughts.
The tin plate now had five fingertip imprints on the right from the uncontrolled grip of his automail hand. If his human limb were strong enough, it too would have created a matching set on the left. Edward stared hard into the campfire. His closed lips worked with words he wished to say, thoughts he'd like to make reality. Finally having enough, he stood and threw the plate into the fire. He completely ignored the explosion of sparks and embers sent flying into the sand-
"Gah! Ow, what the hell?"
"H- HOT! Dammit, what was th- Aww c'mon, my uniform! This was my best set!"
-and into a couple hapless enlisted men that happened to be downwind around a poker game. The alchemist ignored it all and stormed off.
Once outside the perimeter of camp, the blond teen shoved his fists into his pockets and slowed the hurried pace that was filling his boots with sand. He came to a stop at the top of a small dune and lifted his face to the sky, blowing a sigh out through his nostrils. It was cold enough to make his automail ports ache, but there would be no snow or rainfall from the scattered clouds above. The air out here was so much clearer than in the Central or Eastern Cities, but even as a wanderer who had traveled all over the country he could appreciate the starlight that fell on the clouds from above to give them a silver glow. He didn't dare to think they had a silver lining. No. It was a glow. Only a glow and nothing more.
He knew it was only a matter of time before he would be ordered to attack and even kill innocent civilians. They might even be familiar faces he had met before, faces that had smiled in greeting to he and his brother both. Kill them, or he and his brother would die. Kill them, like Mustang had done in Ishval. Edward gritted his teeth and glared hatefully up to the sky. It was too late to surrender his watch now that he had been called to active duty in this civil war. How had the bas- Mustang, how had General Mustang dealt with this? And Hawkeye...
The fury melted away from his face and Edward lowered his head into an upheld gloved hand, rubbing his temples lightly. Mustang and Hawkeye... One dead and the other on the run for assisting an insurgent group's failed attempt at the Fuhrer's life. He knew that was a lie. If she didn't find a good place to hide for the rest of her life, she would be executed for her crimes against the state.
The corruption wasn't specific to this temporary military installation alone.
What was the last thing he had said to either of them? Some snide remark to the Colonel- now General in that posthumous promotion- about his womanizing reputation. And Hawkeye had been in the room when he said it. He groaned and covered his face with both hands as if trying to hide from his own actions. Hawkeye herself had only been given a casual wave and "See you later, Lieutenant!"
That, and nothing more.
Ed sank to sit heavily on the sand, elbows propped on his knees. He stared out over the cold sand to the dim desert city of Lior.
No apologies for giving them both another mess to clean up, both with paperwork and bills for damages. No thanks for protecting his actions from the higher-ups. Or for sending him on assignments that were really excuses to search for the Philosopher's Stone.
If only he could ask Mustang or Hawkeye what to do now. Or how they handled this burden. If only...
Nina, Maes, Roy, Riza...
He rolled onto his back and slammed his right arm hard into the sand beside him, his left wrist laid across his eyes. Why did he not realize how important people were until they were taken from him? How completely self-centered he had been all this time. Now he would most likely lose his brother unless he could figure a way out of this mess.
This was all his fault. Alphonse suffered enough as a result of Edward's stupid actions, there was no reason that had to continue any longer.
His dry lips parted to whisper to the night sky.
"I'm sorry... everyone."
AN: *Mew!* =^.^= *holds out gun to a ball of purring fluff* Leave a review or the kitten gets it!
Seriously though, reviews feed my Muse and make chapters come faster. Really, it does. Special thanks to all my dedicated reviewers that leave such wonderful comments! You make this fic happen.
There are expected delays for the next chapter. It is convention season and I will be having a friend from out of state over for a couple weeks. So those reviews will be needed even more to get my writing muse back after so much distraction.
Yes, I know there is no Christmas in the FMA world, but there is no Arakawa, either. *evil grin*
Theme song for this chapter is Life is a Song by Patrick Park. MUST MUST MUST listen to this one. The power of RoyAi compels you!