Silent Song

Chapter 34: And On and On

Disclaimer: I don't own shit

Summary so far, because I had too much fun last time:

Lark Levington: The Envy Whisperer. She'd make cash off of that, too, if Dante wasn't around. Alas, Lark's a bit too scrambled and kidnapped to do that. But she's opened a door (quite literally) that might finally get her some answers.

Envy: There's something about Lark that reminds Envy of someone. It's called family resemblance, asshole. Make up your damn mind, though. Everyone's running out of time

Alphonse Elric: He's acting out Fifty Shades minus the sex and nonsensical writing. Same amount of rope and danger, though. Oh yeah, there's also the Philosopher's Stone and him?

Glory Levington: The keeper of the Gate? There's really no job description for it, nor an application. I don't think there's even any requirements for it. Just happens. No degrees or basic education needed. Or, hell, even common sense. Kinda like the protagonist of a YA dystopian romance novel.

"Al?"

"Lark?"

Arms and legs still bound together, Al stared up at a horrified Lark. Yes, from his perspective of she was upside down, but that didn't affect the feeling of relief when he saw her.

She didn't look that different from the last time he saw her when they had been in the temporary military compound near Liore. She was wearing different clothes, given that it had been nearly a month, but Al saw that they were looser on her frame than usual. Her face was a bit gaunter as well, and her skin was paler than he had ever seen it before, making the dark circles under her eyes seem like bruises. It took a moment for the most tremendous change to work its way through his head.

"What're you doing here?"

Lark could use her voice. Al flinched back, immediately on guard. "Who are you? Lark can't talk!"

The girl opened her mouth in response, the hand that had been reaching for him freezing in the air. It had to be Envy, but the caustic personality and condescending smirk were missing. Still, it couldn't be the impossible.

"No, Alphonse Elric," There it was, the snarking voice of the homunculus. "This is the real deal."

Envy appeared in the doorway, holding a candle that finally illuminated the room. He stayed back, but Lark approached him in a strangely calm fashion to take the candle herself. She nodded her thanks to him and returned to a wary distance between her and Al. His head whirred as he took in the exchange that had just happened. "I don't believe you."

"Fair enough." Envy grinned lazily.

Lark blinked. "When we first met, Ed tried my vegetable soup. He couldn't pronounce 'cilantro' when I gave him the recipe."

It was a small detail, but Al remembered it. They had been strangers, still outside the edges of trust, yet ready to start an adventure together. It had been a year since then, when everything was simpler.

He wanted to ask more to make certain it was Lark crouching in front of him, but one look in her eyes and seeing the quiet warmness and devotion was enough. This was Lark, his ally, his companion, his friend.

"How are you talking?" Al blurted. He eyed her neck. "And what happened to your scar?"

She touched her neck self-consciously, swallowing before saying: "I went through the Gate again."

"What?"

"A mistake was made and I traded off more than I needed."

"What?" This was getting ridiculous and, honestly, not much clearer.

"I don't really understand it myself," Lark breathed out a slightly frustrated puff of air. "Um, it's a lot of information and background you have to process before I even get to this part."

From his post at the door, Envy let out a near-cackle. "Anything is long and complicated when the master's involved."

Al caught a brief hint of Lark's eyes sarcastically flicking back, but then she leaned forward and Al started again. "Don't come near-!"

Almost before he had said it, Lark had already flinched back. Envy rushed forward when she began to sway, but she regained her focus and pushed him away. He returned to his original position, albeit a few steps closer to Lark.

Al looked between them, hoping the concerned expression he had seen on Envy's face and the way Lark's hand lingered on Envy's abdomen when she moved him back were part of his imagination. He had been locked up for an indeterminable amount of time, of course he was bound to go crazy. Yes, that must've been it.

"What happened to you?" Lark zeroed in on the patch of armor eaten away by the stone. Her voice had dropped even quieter than it was before.

Al answered bluntly. "I'm the Philosopher's Stone."

She gaped at him like she was waiting for the punchline of a joke. He could almost see the cogs of her brain begin working overtime the same way Ed's would.

Finally, she spit out, "How?"

From beyond her, Envy stiffened. The tendons of his neck tensed, and after a moment of deliberation followed by a meaningful glance at Lark, he left the room. She didn't seem acknowledge his disappearance, eyes staunchly fixed on Al's.

So, he told her of his search for her, digging up almost nothing in that short amount of time. Reluctantly, he had had to abandon her due to the dire circumstances of Ishval. She didn't react to the acceptance of her fate, her former icy exterior returning. Not knowing how to confront something he didn't want to face either, Al detailed the tragedy of Ishval, how Scar had saved him from Kimblee only to sacrifice the lives of soldiers for the Philosopher's Stone inside of Al.

She was silent, processing the information. And then: "What about Percole?"

"You saved them," Al knew Lark wasn't disregarding the soldiers, but was understandably more attached to her hometown. "Brother and I went to look for you again there after Ishval. They're fine."

She gave him a weak smile of relief that barely lasted a second. "Did you talk to anyone?"

"Really, just Allie and Lily," He recalled the latter girl's hostility. "Lily kind of..."

"Has something against me?" Lark shook her head sadly. She glanced at the candle sitting at their feet, her hands cupping around the flame despite the stagnant and warm air around them. "We used to be close friends. Something happened with her—or maybe with me—and she's been like this ever since. I..." Her mouth twisted as she lost her words. She breathed in and her calm expression reappeared. "Where's Ed?"

"I don't know. I went to Tucker because he said he could teach me how to use the Stone, but all I found was that the Stone eats at me whenever I use it. And then..." The story became more convoluted at that point. Al didn't know how to explain it all well. "Mom was there and Brother found me. He and Lust knew how to kill homunculi and they...I watched her disappear right in front of us, for the second time."

Al didn't watch Lark's reaction, instead staring at the flickering light of the candle that had already melted halfway. She remained quiet as well. The dim light illuminated her fluttering hands, not quite signing anything coherent but snatches of ideas.

Emptily, he continued. "I didn't even have enough time to think about it before Envy took me. Brother is who-knows-where and we're trapped underground."

"Underground?"

"A city under Central. It's empty except for us."

All of a sudden, Lark shot up. "Do you know how to get out?"

"The city takes up miles, Lark," Al gaped at her. "The amount of time it would take to find the exit would be enough for them to find you!"

She froze at the use of you. Picking up the candle, she stalked closer to him, probably intending on using the fire to burn away his bonds. She only reached a few inches before her hands began shaking, almost dropping the candle. "I can't leave without you."

"You can't even untie me! What's your plan for this?"

A flash of emotion went through her eyes. "Al, just what happened to you? Have you lost all hope?"

"No!" He avoided her gaze, twisting himself away from her to keep from getting too close. "I'm counting on Brother to come. We just have to wait for him."

The silence seemed to stretch out to infinity. At last, Lark padded toward the door. Before blowing out the candle, she declared in a hushed tone, "Time is something I might not have. Besides, I'm tired of being useless."

The door clicked shut, taking with it his only source of light.

My hands curled into fists as I made my way back to my room. Thoughts soared throughout my mind, but the main one was get out get out.

Ever since I had woken up here, my skin was crawling. I had ignored it while I was focused on other things, but the uneasy was creeping into my bones. In the beginning, my guess was because of my discomfort, but Al's predicament cemented my other theory.

When I had reached for him the first time, I felt my head squeezing and my blood singing. It was so intense I had nearly passed out. There had only been one other instance where this had happened: Linwood, when Lujon's Philsopher's Stone had broken.

The unease under my skin was caused by the mingling of my blood and the red water during our adventure in the Fifth Laboratory. I knew because I had never felt uncomfortable around Envy when we were in Percole, but now something was always shifting inside of me. Envy fed on red stones, which were less concentrated and massive than the Philsopher's Stone Al had become. My reaction to Al was so horrible I couldn't even touch him. Even being a foot away from him had been nauseating, though better to hide.

I stopped to catch my breath against the wall outside my room. The shakiness had gone away, but my head still pulsed. I tried to fight through my discomfort, concentrating instead on the situation in front of me.

My first move would have to be to pack up. Envy had left in the opposite direction of my room and I hadn't seen him coming back this way. I needed to do it quickly, while I still could use alchemy. Despite the fact I was feeling faint, I still had to get out of this mansion at least. If the city was as large as Al said it was, I would have enough distance in it to take a rest. When I found my way to Central, my top priority would be to find Ed. But if I needed to fight, I would do so until my last moment.

I didn't know if I was thinking this out of ignorance, pride, or some other unfathomable emotion. I did know that my desperation was getting somewhat tangible.

Taking in one more breath, I entered my room. As I took a step in, the hair on the back of my neck rose. "Envy, are-"

Something—someone—bolted at me, knocking me off my feet. They wrapped their arms around my waist and shrieked at me in a hysterical tone. I lifted my head to look at them and saw that it was the child I had encountered in Dublith.

His face was half-burnt, the skin red and peeling. That side of his body was completely damaged, but he didn't seem to care. His eyes had a manic gleam to them, while his frantic words barely explained himself.

"Bring Mommy back! You have to bring her back!"

My mind had barely deciphered the words before the confusion came back. His mother? He couldn't possibly be talking about Izumi.

"What happened to Izumi?" I tried to pry myself from his grip. "Is she okay?"

"She's not Mommy!" The boy hissed at me for a moment, before his face crumbled again. "I want Mommy!"

I wriggled, but his grasp became increasing tighter. He continued on his rant, growing louder and more desperate. Finally, I jabbed at his pressure points, freeing myself and scrambling away.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I gasped. My sides were screaming at me. "I can't bring your mother back."

He pounced at me. I dodged out of his reach, backing into the hall. He landed in a crouched position and lunged at my feet, yelling, "Yes, you can! You're Glory's sister aren't you?"

I froze. Glory?

I was knocked on to the ground, the boy's hands wrapping around my wrists and holding them to the ground. His ungroomed nails dug into my skin. He leaned in closer, his teeth seeming more jagged than they should've been. "If she can get me here, then you can bring Mommy back! You have to!"

In all honesty, the best way to describe what Envy had felt when Lark learned that Alphonse was the Philosopher's Stone was dread. It wasn't an emotion he was often privy to, but there was no mistaking the cold sweat and the drop of his stomach. He did not want to know how she would react to his own involvement, so the obvious option was to leave the room and pretend it didn't happen.

Smart, right?

He had circled the hall for a while, not certain whether to return or go do something else. A part of him—probably the only rational part of him left—reminded him of Lark's flighty expression, how that gleam in her eyes spoke trouble in volumes. Only a fool would leave her to her own devices.

Well, it turned out Envy was a goddamn fool.

But, as he paced back and forth, only his thoughts kept him company. And unfortunately, those thoughts merely pertained to one thing, er, person.

Lark Levington was the single most aggravating person he had ever met. No, not from her actions, but from how much space she took up in his mind. The last time he had gotten attached to a human, it wasn't half this terrible. However, perhaps this was because that previous encounter.

He wanted so badly. Not the crude want satisfied by fucking that humans would ruin their lives for, but a want that was maybe even deadlier. Like a wily cat, it stalked through his mind, tangling his emotions into an almost indescribable mess. He wanted to keep her out of Dante's reach, to protect her, to keep her by his side, to make her happy—

Envy stopped pacing. What the hell was he thinking? He couldn't do any of that. For second time in his life, he needed for his wants to come true. But this time, they were as contradictory as fire and water.

He would do so much to keep her away from Dante, but that so much reached a limit. To protect Lark was obvious to stay by her side, yet, keeping her here would land her back in Dante's grasp. She was a sacrificial lamb here. She was a plant, slowly wilting away without the sunshine it needed to survive.

But was she ivy—desperate to climb through cracks to catch a glimpse of light—or was she an orchid—delicate so that only special care could keep it alive?

Down the hallway, he heard shrieks and cries, one of which he recognized as Lark's. He vaulted toward them, letting go of his train of thought. It seemed like trouble happened whenever he let her out of his line of sight.

The scene was this: Wrath pinning Lark to the ground, his teeth bared at her throat while she shuffled underneath him. He was screeching about something or other—he always seemed to be, to the point where Envy stopped listening—and Lark was denying it vehemently. Whatever it was, it wasn't doing her any good.

Envy rushed at them, intending to knock Wrath off of her with his momentum, when Lark stopped squirming and bashed her head into Wrath's. He let out a squeal of pain and let go of her to clutch at his bleeding nose. Just like that, she shoved him off of her. As she scrambled back to her feet, she clapped her hands together and placed them on the wall, a metal staff dropping into her palms. Envy watched in amazement as she squared her stance and pointed the staff at Wrath.

With a flash of red, Wrath's nose was back in place—fuck, just how hard had she head butted him? Lark didn't waste that moment to catch her breath. She swung at him when he jumped to his feet, knocking him over again. He tried to grasp at her staff, but she executed a swift pattern of jabs, immobilizing the arms. Just as quickly, she paralyzed his legs in that familiar motion. She stared down at Wrath with the staff pressed against his chest, her own heaving for air.

She really is your daughter, Levington.

When the name appeared in his thoughts, Envy snapped from his passive observation. He rounded on Wrath, who has suddenly gone quiet. "Wrath, what the hell are you doing?"

Lark stepped back, giving Envy a glance with eyes still glazed over with adrenaline. She clutched on to the staff like her life depended on it. "He wants me to bring his mother back."

Sloth. Of course the reason Wrath was losing his shit was because of Sloth. Envy regarded the boy coldly. "How many times do I have to tell you this? Homunculi don't have mothers."

"I don't care why you say!" Wrath nearly spat into Envy's face. "She was my mommy! I want her back!"

Envy grabbed the boy by his collar, pressing him against the wall hard enough the plaster caved. "Sloth isn't coming back. You can't save her, I can't save her. You sure as hell aren't bringing Lark into this."

Tears welled up on Wrath's eyes, whether it was from anger or sorrow was unknown. Envy suspected it was both. "She's the only one who can! If Glory can control the Gate, then so can she! It's her choice, not yours!"

Envy opened his mouth, about to deal another scathing answer to the kid's madness, before Lark's voice rang out behind him. "I can't bring your mother back, Wrath. I don't have any power over the Gate, and even if I did, she's already passed it by now. There's nothing any of us can do," She tapped her hands on the staff absently while conflict flickered in her eyes. "Besides, even I knew how, I still wouldn't do it. I'm sorry."

He could hear the sincerity in her voice for once, rather than the obligational tone that most people took up for that phrase. But it was that bluntness that seemed to finally drive Wrath to the edge that he was already precariously balancing on. He let out a heart stopping wail made up of a litany of noes, tears streaming endlessly down his cheeks.

Lark had a helpless expression on her face. Seeing that, Envy knew she was reaching the end of the line with the situation. He motioned toward her room and she took the hint, quietly backing in with the staff in hand. Once she was gone from his view, Envy wrenched Wrath up by the front of his shirt. "Get the hell out of here."

Wrath's eyes widened with animal terror. "Where can I go?"

"I don't fucking care," Envy snarled. "But if this happens again, I won't be half as nice as her."

With that, he shoved Wrath backwards. Wrath landed straight on his ass, arms and legs scrambling to get up. His eyes darting around like a skittish dog's, he sprinted down the hall.

Envy let out a frustrated groan and ran his hand through his hair. God, the world was turning into a shit show in a snowball of doom. He ducked into Lark's room, head lost in thoughts.

"Here." He focused back the present to find Lark holding a damp washcloth. "There's still blood on you." Her voice seemed far away.

He took the cloth, rubbing his face and hands with it. It wasn't his blood, of course, but Wrath's. Head wounds tended to bleed a lot and Lark's head butt was not gentle as she herself seemed.

He handed the towel back to her. She studied him for a moment, before folding the cloth to a cleaner side and stepping forward. She patted at his cheek, probably wiping away smudges that he had missed. Softly, but still enough for her breath to tickle his skin, Lark spoke. "It's not safe for me here."

Automatically, Envy responded. "It's not safe for you outside, either."

"I don't need you to protect me," She was going straight for the kill. "I can handle myself."

"That's not the point."

"What's the point, then? Are you acting on your own, or are you following Dante's every command? You can't have your cake and eat it, too."

She was still fixated on the blood on his face, but Envy still sneered at her. "Don't you pull this philosophical bullshit on me. Worry about yourself before you even think about stepping all over me."

Finally, Lark pulled away. There was a storm brewing in her eyes, but she retreated to the bathroom to wash the towel and her hands. For a moment there was just the sound of rushing water. Then, she crossed the room again to meet Envy face to face. The look she gave him was sad, yet wary. "I've already thought about myself. I've done enough thinking for myself to last a lifetime. I know what I want to do."

Do you?

Envy disappeared as soon as I had cleaned the rest of blood off, silent except for a gruff "Thanks." I really couldn't blame him. I hated going on rants, hated how ham-fisted they could become. Whenever my parents had gone off on tangents when I was younger, I had rolled my eyes. Even when older patients had tried to pass advice off to me, I replaced the eye-rolling with a passive smile and a noncommittal response. But I hadn't liked the empty look Envy had given me afterwards, a look I hadn't been able to read.

It was as if I had peeled away yet another layer of him—or maybe he was putting on shields that I had never been able to get past anyways. He had hundreds of years of practice to build up those walls, to fortify them so not even someone as slippery as Dante could get through. But, he had just as many years of struggles trapped behind. So who was I to try to break them down and free his hand? I was no one to him, right?

I wanted to trust him, maybe have trust me...if only just a little bit.

(Neither of us probably deserved a luxury like that.)

Still, my head was clearer now that I had a goal to fixate on. I rifled through the room for anything vaguely useful, pocketing the matches and jewelry I found in the vanity. The dresses I found in the wardrobe I could probably make a bag out of using alchemy. I wasn't the best seamstress, but it would have to do.

The things I were the most concerned about were food, water, and the actual way out of the underground city. I didn't know how large it was, nor where the nearest exit really was located. It was a shot in the dark at best. Only a complete idiot would do something like this.

Was I a fool for trying to trick myself into thinking I was going to be fine, or did I truly believe I had a chance?

Absentmindedly, I patted my pocket. The vial I had picked up at my home was still there. When Envy had kidnapped, he somehow still had the social graces to not loot my clothing. The writing circling the glass flashed in my mind, taunting me. But, no, only after this ordeal was over, when I was free again, could I ever open the vial.

Lost in my thoughts, I didn't hear the door open behind me. I whipped around, body squaring up into a defensive pose in case Wrath had the audacity to reappear. As unprepared as I already was, I was even more surprised when a bag came flying at me. I managed to catch it before it launched itself into my gut.

Envy maintained a steady eye on me, almost like a challenge. "The nearest exit is east: there's a compass inside the bag."

I opened my mouth, but he continued. "There are other supplies in there, too. You'll come up near Central. Don't let the military see you."

"Thank you," I edged in, knowing he wouldn't let me get a word in otherwise when he was on a monologue. I almost paused for enough time to Envy to cut in again and I went with the first thing that came into mind. "For making up your mind."

The steadiness of his eyes seemed to falter. He turned back to the door, leaving it wide open as he made his way back into the hall. "It's not the answer to all of my and your problems, Lark." He paused. "But, whatever you do, don't come back."

Backstreet's back, alright!

Nah, I'm still as irregular as the FMA fandom on my tumblr dashboard nowadays. No statements for the record on how fast the next update is. School's already kicking my ass for very obvious reasons and I apparently need to be more Responsible now.

But y'all are so sweet for continuing to support me, whether it's through your comments, follows, or favorites. I adore every single one of you taking time out of your day to continue on this anxiety attack that Lark's life has become. May all your OTPs become canon and your favs stay alive in their respective stories (fingers crossed for you poor SnK fans).

Same old drill: follow, review, and/or favorite! A comment really brightens up my day and God knows how much I need some light in my life. Any questions are welcome through PM or tumblr ask!