I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist or any of its characters. Both belongs to Arakawa Hiromu.
Chapter XXI
– Final Meeting –
"I can't just forget it like that."
"Just believe me when I tell you it wasn't your fault."
"But it was! If only I had listened to what you said, you wouldn't have been injured."
"You weren't the one to actually shoot me. I acted on my own, so it's my own fault and not yours."
"Still… I can't just forget."
"As long as you don't break your little mind by brooding over stupid things like that, I'm fine with it."
"Hey, what do you mean by that, old man?"
"Just get in the car, Fullmetal."
This was what had taken place between Mustang and Edward prior to the mission in which the final traitor was to be revealed. Edward and the others had successfully taken out and arrested Castillo and Burlaine, the only one left being the so called 'Okugi-san'. Of course, this irked everyone that knew of this code name, since 'okugi' was a Japanese word and literally meant 'secret' or 'hidden purpose'. They knew that with this the Amestrians were being mocked and laughed at, the worst thing being that they had no idea about the traitor's true identity, unlike with the traitors they had encountered before. All that was left was relying on the information provided by Jackson, giving the place and time of the transaction. This transaction was a crucial one, since the leader of the Cretan avengers was supposed to show up. If the Amestrian army was to catch him, all possibilities of Cretans attacking them was completely nullified. A group without a leader is like a ship without a rudder after all.
"Where are they?" Breda wanted to know, uncomfortably crouched down beneath a window. "It's about time they showed up by now."
Hawkeye immediately shushed him. "Keep your voice down and be patient, Second Lieutenant."
The red-haired man simply huffed, averting his gaze towards the scene outside the window.
They were hiding in a partially broken down house that was near the planned transaction point. A few others, including Fuery and Falman, were supposed to follow whoever was approaching the meeting point in case they should escape after maybe discovering that they had been found out. Hawkeye and the others were expecting whoever Okugi-san was to appear and meet the leader of the Cretan avengers.
It was ten minutes past the planned time of the meeting and the soldiers were becoming anxious. Had they been found out?
Breda couldn't stand this silent waiting. "It's no good," he hissed, obviously annoyed and steadily becoming impatient. "They found out about our plan and are doing that transaction somewhere else." The redhead then was roughly whacked by his comrade.
"Stay quiet," Havoc snarled. "They'll show up, so keep patient." He clasped a hand over Breda's mouth when he again tried to retort.
Both their ranting was interrupted with steps suddenly sounding. Pebbles were crunching beneath someone's feet, rushed steps growing in volume and approaching the soldiers. They soon could see a man standing in front of their hide-out, barely a few metres away from them.
Only about a minute passed and another man approached, his steps much heavier and louder than the other's.
"Sorry, I'm late," the blond newcomer, having his back to his observers, greeted. "Someone definitely was following me, so I had to take a shortcut." He was still glancing to this right and left, apparently to make sure that no one was watching them. Of course, he wasn't able to spot anyone since the Amestrian soldiers were hidden well in the darkness.
The other man's face was concealed by a hat casting a shadow over his features. "Don't mind it. I've been followed too and had to take another way around to get here. Seems those people are getting a wind of what we're doing. Our past transactions all ended unsuccessful and we weren't able to get in contact with any of those involved." The apparently brown-haired man scoffed, obviously annoyed about his ally's incapability. "We need to get this over with smoothly, or all our chances for success will be ruined." The man too peered around, hoping to be safe.
"Can you provide them until the end of this week?" the blond man inquired. "I think we need to start everything sooner, since the Amestrian military is on our tails already. I really can't tell how much longer we'll be able to stay hidden like this without them completely finding us out."
The middle-aged brunette casually waved it off. "Don't worry about it."
The Amestrian soldiers then watched the brown-haired man pushing a hand into his pocket.
That was the moment Amestris might have been doomed.
It was the moment everything went to hell.
The sound of someone's protesting yells suddenly reached the ears of Havoc and the others, alarming them of approaching danger. Not only Havoc spotted the smug smirk that sprawled onto the brunette's face in front of them.
"Apparently…" the man spoke up, slyness in his voice, "we caught a few rats."
Three men suddenly emerged from the shadows, holding on to two persons the soldiers hiding in the surrounding buildings knew all too well.
"Let me go!" Edward yelled, being yanked along at his collar by a Cretan. "You're choking me!"
Mustang too was being dragged towards the blond and the brunette, his face a calm mask, even though his mind was twirling with panic.
They had been found out.
The brunette man then stepped up, his smug smirk evil and foreboding. "And so we meet again, Colonel Mustang, Major Elric." Gracefully, he lifted his hand to remove his hat, throwing it into a puddle like discarded trash.
A small gasp left Edward. "Colonel Whelan?" he exclaimed, averting his gaze towards the blond man next to Whelan. "And you–" After Whelan had nodded towards the man that held Edward, the teen was shoved towards the ground, his chin painfully hitting the pavement covered in pebbles. "Damn," he wheezed out.
"Fullmetal!" Mustang's calm mask was about to falter, his panic slowly becoming visible.
Havoc gritted his teeth, knowing that this was the moment he had to step in and help. He shot up from his knelt down position, but was interrupted by Whelan speaking up again.
"I know that more of you are hiding somewhere in the shadows. For that reason…" Whelan then calmly pulled out a gun from his black coat, pointing it at the teen's head, "I'll only allow one single person to come out. Someone I urgently want to talk to."
Mustang's brows furrowed in confusion. What is he talking about?
"Come on out…" Whelan called out, "Jackson."
For a while, only silence reigned over the abandoned place. Breathes were being held, anxiety rising, adrenaline rushing through blood, bodies stiffening in nervousness. All because everyone was waiting for a sound in the silence.
Many hiding in the shadows jumped either inwardly or outwardly, when the sound of pebbles crunching beneath boots was heard. Steadily, the noise was becoming louder, until everyone could see the man.
"Jackson," the blond man next to Whelan snarled.
The former Lieutenant Colonel, once known as the Black Thorn Alchemist, motionlessly stared at the blond man in shock. His white shirt was swaying in the light breeze, emerald eyes glistening with trepidation. "You…" he mumbled almost inaudibly, "You're still alive?"
The blond man only growled, snarling at the other man. "Damn right I am, Draigen!"
Despite the other sending him a venomous glare, Jackson smiled with relief. "I'm so glad you're still alive, Brian."
Mustang, still held captive by Cretans, immediately recognized the man. A blond Cretan named 'Brian'. Only one man came to the Colonel's mind: Brian O'Farrel, the man that had been interrogated weeks earlier when Mustang and Hughes had been trying to find out who had raped Edward. He's the leader of the Cretan group of avengers?
Edward too remembered the name well. He risked a glance upwards to confirm his assumption and quickly lowered it when he had seen the familiar face. He's one of the only survivors of Kerry! Was he the Brian Jackson mentioned? His cousin? They obviously know each other, so…
"You betrayed us!" O'Farrel suddenly yelled. "How could you do this to your homeland, Draigen? To the survivors and me?"
The relieved smile placed on Jackson's face became one of hurt. "I hate myself for causing you so much pain, Brian."
"Bullshit!" The Cretan jolted, grabbing Edward from the ground and dragging him upwards. "You care for this brat, right?" A crazed glare was shot at the teen, while O'Farrel held the alchemist in a tight grip around his neck and pressed the barrel of his gun against his temple. "Tell me your reason for betraying us and I won't blow away this brat's damn head!"
The man, that Mustang had first encountered as collected and cautious of his actions and what he was saying, now was the embodiment of a mad man. Whelan on the other hand was watching the scene with a bemused smile.
Sincere worry and sadness flicked over Jackson's gaze, as he pondered what to do. "Put away the gun, Brian. Please."
"You have no right to demand anything, you traitorous bastard!" Brian continued to yell again.
At those words, Jackson flinched back a little, disappointed about his first meeting after twenty years with his only left blood relative to turn out in such a way. "I was forced to," he mumbled, staring at the ground he stood on.
O'Farrel did consider this, wondering if wether or not he should believe this. "By who?"
The former Lieutenant Colonel's calm face gained a fierce scowl that was directed at the brunette next to his cousin. "By this man. I was taken hostage after we fled and then taken in by him. Whenever I tried to run away… he did horrible, horrible things to me and forced me to stay until I wasn't able to return at all anymore."
"That's a lie," Whelan suddenly cut in. "I never did such a horrendous thing as force a Cretan to stay here in Amestris. Why would I help Cretans to invade in order to destroy Amestris then?"
Of course, this let doubts arise in O'Farrel about what Jackson had told him. Who should he believe? The man that was helping him to reach his goals, or the cousin he hadn't seen in twenty years and was part of the enemy's force? He showed his decision by pressing the barrel of his gun harder against Edward's temple. "You liar!" he snarled at Jackson. "I'll kill this damn brat, if you don't tell me the truth now!"
The other blond Cretan's lips curled into a frown as he noticed the Fullmetal Alchemist tensing up. I have to do something! Slowly, he approached his cousin, open palms raised to show that he was unarmed. "Brian, we can talk this over calmly." With each step that he made towards the other, O'Farrel's scowl deepened and he began to shake his head. "We're cousins! You're my last blood relative, my only family! I have no reason to lie to–"
"You have reason enough!" O'Farrel interrupted. "This brat looks like Fennore, so it was easy for him to persuade you into lying to me! Into betraying your own home country!"
Jackson slowed down, his desperation growing. Talking to his cousin was like trying to swim against the stream. Whenever he would say something to him, even if it was the truth, O'Farrel retorted, simply refusing to believe him and have faith in him. "Brian, please! I–"
A gunshot rang through the air, barely missing Jackson's feet, O'Farrel tightening his grip around Edward. "Stay back! Don't come any closer!" The man's finger wrapped around the gun's trigger trembled as Jackson didn't stop at all, continuing to approach him in a slow pace.
He's my cousin. He won't shoot me! Hoping to talk some sense into his cousin, Jackson now only stood a few metres away from O'Farrel. He kept walking, not stopping and wishing for a normal conversation with his cousin.
Another gunshot ripped through the air. This time though, all hell went loose.
Edward watched Jackson falling to the ground, blood gushing from a gash in his chest.
Amestrians and Cretans suddenly clashed together. Everyone fought for the victory of their own desires.
Mustang freed himself from the Cretan's grasp, letting his fist collide with some of their faces. His hands free, he slipped on his beloved gloves to send lightnings of flames at his foes.
Havoc and Hawkeye had their eyes fixed on the place that now was a battlefield, shooting down whoever was Cretan, but not killing them.
Rushed steps sounded, shots ricocheted, screams echoed, bodies fell, voices went silent, men died.
Only Edward still lay there, the Cretan holding him not loosening his grasp. The teen had to see Jackson's pale face, eyes becoming glazed over. Amber eyes widened, ragged breathes were coming from the alchemist.
Something snapped in the blonde's mind.
With a jolt and an enraged yell, Edward freed himself from the grasp. Without any second of hesitation, he transmuted his automail arm into a razor sharp blade.
It didn't take long until someone tried to attack the blond teen. That person though was also the first to be ruthlessly slashed by the Fullmetal Alchemist's blade.
If the man survived or died, Edward didn't care. Fury pulsated throughout his whole body, setting his nerves on fire and making the teen want to smash something, even if it meant hurting someone. It was something unknown to the teen, something frightening. This fury, this rage, this panic. Edward wasn't able to tame any of it.
And so a dozen men fell by the hand of the Fullmetal Alchemist. Dead or alive, no one might ever know.
When the battle came to an end and silence wafted over the place, Mustang, his subordinates and everyone involved lowered their weapons, panting heavily. Amestris had won the battle and had prevented the Cretans of destroying their homeland. They let their gazes travel, saw bodies littering the ground. A few chests were rising and falling, while others had stilled. Hawkeye and Breda were handcuffing one raven-haired man that was barely alive, while another blond man lay on the ground, his body resting in a pool of his own blood. In the center of the bloodshed, Edward knelt with his blade still not reversed into its usual form. The teen just sat beside one body, shaking slightly.
Mustang, not wanting to wait for any kind of reaction from the teen, walked over to where the blonde sat, crouching down beside him. "Fullmetal," he called softly in a low voice. "It's over now." He lay a hand on his subordinate's shoulder, sending a sad smile at the teen when his head turned to look at the man.
Sadness was all one could see in Edward's eyes. He turned his head away from the Colonel again to look down at the man lying on the ground. "He's dying," the blonde muttered. "He tried to protect me and…"
"It's not your fault," a voice suddenly croaked.
Tears welled up in the Fullmetal Alchemist's eyes as he eyed the dying man looking up at him, eyes half-lidded, breathes ragged and blood oozing out of the wound in his chest. "But…"
Jackson's fingers twitched, before he raised a hand to let it rest on Edward's upper arm. A smile, seeming tired, curled the blond man's lips. "I'm glad that I was able to help you in some way." With grief that the man didn't show, the Cretan noticed the crimson blood splattered all over the teen. "Edward…"
The blond teen's eyes widened as he noticed the seriousness in that one word. "W-What?"
The grip on the teen's arm tightened as Jackson spoke up again. "Can you forgive me for what I did?"
Unable to utter any words for sobs would have passed his lips, Edward frantically nodded, sniffing.
Mustang witnessed everything, his hold on his subordinate's shoulder tightening indiscernibly. He felt his own heart drop when the Cretan's gaze suddenly shifted towards him.
"Colonel," the man wheezed out with a pleading look, "please make sure to protect his pureness."
This startled Mustang slightly. He had a vague idea of what the man meant, so he only nodded with a stern look. His further thoughts were interrupted by Edward speaking up again.
"Why were you helping us?" the teen asked, barely able to hold back his tears. "Aren't you Cretan? Your family was killed by Amestrians, so why don't you hold a grudge against us?"
Jackson's smile brightened a little, his eyes slowly becoming dull. "I'm sure you can understand that by yourself. Take good care of yourself, Edward."
Edward panicked slightly when the man's eyes began to close and his breathing slowed. "You can't die, you idiot!" The man's hand still resting on his upper arm, the teen grabbed it to hold it in his own.
His hand is so cold…
He could see life slowly draining away from the man.
He's not breathing anymore…
The smile on Jackson's face never faltered.
He's dead…