Hey! Another long wait... I wish I was able to upload more often, but this chapter was really difficult to figure out because I goofed myself hard in the last chapter.
I had a clear idea of what would happen next, but once I actually started writing it- some significant plotholes appeared and I realized how complicated I had made things for myself. But, I think I'm hopefully unraveling the knots and patching up the holes okay.
Thank you so much to Joker Oak, who I reached out to, to bounce some ideas off of. I really appreciated your input!
Resembool, December 1903
A man that hadn't set his foot in the small village in a year, stepped out of the afternoon train. It had been an unusually dry autumn, but a chilling gust of wind still made him pop up the collar of his brown trenchcoat.
He only held a single suitcase, and with heavy footsteps, he trotted determinately across the small platform and ignored the confused stares that followed him through the dimly lit streets. It was getting dark early this time of year, but it only helped him blend in with the shadows.
A couple of people tried to greet him, but he paid them no heed as he walked with fast paces towards the Resembool Medical Facility.
The news from Resembool usually didn't spread as far as Central, but when a mother had passed away and her two young children had suffered life-threatening injuries in a major house fire, even the Central news found it important enough to report about.
He hesitated for a moment as he stood, peering at the semi-large building. It was a large structure for this small village, but nothing more than the size of an average apartment complex in Central, where he had resided for the past year to finally conduct the top-secret mission he'd been working on, for a long time, for the Amestrian Army.
The relationship between Amestris and Drachma had been strained for years, and the Amestrian Army was making preparations in case of an invasion. Hohenheim had gotten the impression that Fuhrer Bradly wanted to hit them first, but also knew that several people on the Amestis Cabinet of Defence were strongly against it. If Bradley wanted to secure his reign over Amestris through another term, he would have to go with what the majority wanted.
So instead, they wanted Hohenheim, a retired but renowned strategist, to come up with a plan on how to reduce the probability of an attack from their neighboring country.
He had developed a plan to destroy a small village called Akinevo. It was a secluded and isolated place right on the border between Drachma and Amestris. While the larger part of it was in Drachma, they didn't appear to have an overwhelming loyalty towards either country.
But, it would be the most strategic place for a Drachman supply route, and destroying the village would make it much harder to smuggle provision and weapons for the probable attack.
The job was now completed, and he only had a couple of weeks left with paperwork before he could move back home when this disaster struck.
He took his glasses off to rinse them on the bottom of his shirt before he placed them back onto the bridge of his nose. The cool fall air had made them fog in contrast to the warm, salted water that threatened to spill down his cheeks.
The steadfast man refused to let them. He hadn't cried since the day his family and himself had taken the last picture of all of them together. The last there would ever be. It was a rare event, which would not repeat itself in any other circumstances than today, he decided then and there. Nothing else would ever be important enough to shed a tear for.
Or so he though.
He tightened the rubber band on his long ponytail before he entered the facility.
Once inside, time seemed to stop as he walked with decisive strides towards the reception desk. The sterile, grey room was mostly empty, and a cold environment greeted him somberly.
"I wish to see Edward and Alphonse Elric," he rumbled harshly. The young nurse looked at him in an indecipherable way, before recognition seemed to dawn upon her. Her smile was strange, as she rose from her seat and excused herself, uttering a weak, "One moment, please," before she disappeared down the long corridor.
'Okay,' Hoenheim thought. He could certainly give her one moment, but he felt as if something was off. His suspicions only grew when the nurse didn't return alone. A short woman with drab blonde hair tucked tightly into a bun and wearing blue-framed glasses walked collectedly behind her.
"Mr. Elric," she stated in a monotone voice, peering up at the intimidating figure in front of her, without looking overawed one bit. She gently adjusted her glasses.
"Hohenheim," he corrected her curtly, in no way in the mood for any pleasantries. He half-expected her to apologize, but when her narrow lips only seemed to sour even more, he knew he didn't like this lady one bit.
"I am doctor Isla Lucy. I was responsible for your family when they were brought in. I would like you to accompany me to my office, please."
The burly man hesitated for a moment but followed her as she started walking back the way she had come from. At the end of the hallway, she unlocked a door with her name on it and invited him inside.
"Sit," she said briefly and extended her hand towards the seat in front of her sparsely wooden desk.
"I rather stand," Hohenheim answered, expression unchanging but with a growing uneasiness unveiling itself in his stomach. The refusal of what apparently had been very forced hospitality didn't help the pressing mood.
"Very well." Her voice seemed strained and edgy. "It is never easy to give a parent these kinds of news, but..." she paused, peering up from pieces of paper and assessing his reaction. His eyes were dark, fists clutched by his sides and he subconsciously started to grind his teeth. She lowered her gaze, trying too hard to look sympathetic.
"I am very sorry Mr. Hohenheim. But Edward and Alphonse, unfortunately, succumbed to their injuries during the night." She stole a short glance towards the domineering man. His demeanor was unchanging even after the news, and she knew she had succeeded in hurting him.
She quelched a smile at the sight.
A circus of thoughts and emotions raged inside of Hohenheim as he walked the long hill to the site of where his house used to be. The house his beloved, late wife and he, had spent the majority of their lives together. Where his first son was born, then, merely a year later, his second son.
The house where Edward had punched a hole through his bedroom door in a fit of rage over something that apparently had been very important to him, which Hohenheim regretfully couldn't remember, and where there was still supposed to be stains on the bathroom floor from when Alphonse suddenly had discovered his artistic abilities (or rather, disabilities).
The house with the kitchen he had gotten down on one knee and asked his beloved Trisha to marry him. The living room with the fireplace the two had made love in front of, countless of times.
The same fireplace that had consumed their house, their home, and killed his entire family with it.
Never in his life had he thought he would outlive them all. He was fifteen years older than Trisha, for goodness's sake. He had never even considered that... that...
Stunned, he stood at the top of the hillside and watched the shattered ruins of his life. Happy memories getting clouded and colored with grief and resentment in shambles of ashes.
He had never considered that he would have to live the remainder of his life without them.
And in the end, that's what he did.
He laid in the hospital. What had started out as a cold had turned into a severe case of pneumonia. He didn't take care of himself, he couldn't see the point. He buried himself in his work, because he might as well help as many people as he could, to make up for the three people he was supposed to protect- but couldn't.
He had already broken too much- what he would be remembered by, was a great strategist. But he knew the truth- he had been out there, destroying families- just like his own, in the great name of King Bradley.
He was bearly coherent. His condition had worsened considerably since he was committed. His breath was ragged and he was coughing blood and his body was deteriorating. His doctor seemed strange and cold as she gave him his death sentence. Something about her seemed familiar. Unfriendly. The last days of his life he was babbling incoherently. The last couple of minutes before his body finally gave out, it all became clear.
"You," he wheezed.
She gave him a cold smile, injecting one last shot of poison into his body.
"It's common for the dying to regain their senses a short moment before they die," she said cooly and sat down on the chair beside his bed.
"What are you injecting me with?" he inquired furiously, but without the bite, he had hoped for.
"Methanol," she explained curtly, disposing of the needle into a small crate by the sink of the hospital room. "The official cause of death will be kidney failure. You're a sickly old man, no one will question it."
"Why are you doing this?" he asked weakly as the world was starting to dissolve around him, his vision fogged up and mind quickly turned more sluggish.
She laughed half-heartedly, settling down at the still unvisited chair by his bedside. "Oh, Hohenheim," she stated, adjusting herself to sit more comfortably. "I too know a thing or two about being alone. About having my home forcefully taken away, my life partner... my children."
She turned silent for a moment before she continued.
"We had a beautiful house, just outside of the center of our village. A swingset in the yard and a small vegetable garden. My husband and I worked long and hard to build our dream home, and with our two perfect children, we build our home."
She looked glassy-eyed at the dying man in the bed in front of her. The heart monitor was beating less frequently. It was almost over.
"Their names were Terrence and Eric. Boys, nine and almost twelve. But then, you came into our lives."
"I have no idea what you're talking abou-"
"-and that's the worst part. You have no idea how your job affected others. All you see are nameless victims, an order to be followed, a strategy to act out. Akinevo was a peaceful place. Completely impartial to either Drachma or Amestris. And you- you destroyed it. Burned it to the ground, killed entire families- children, Mr. Hohenheim. You killed my children."
Hohenheim couldn't respond. His breathing was labored and it was a struggle to catch each breath.
"I watched you give the orders. I was out, trying to treat the injured Akinevians when you bombed our house. And I was too late... I saved several lives that day, but I couldn't save my own family."
Between the beads of sweat that ran down Hohenheim's feverish face, Dr. Lucy couldn't see the tears blending in seamlessly into the wet trails each time he blinked. His struggling lungs couldn't utter the words he most of all wanted to say to her.
He wanted to tell her that he was sorry, and that it was okay. That he knew. He knew what he had done. How much he had destroyed. Was there one person inside that room who deserved to suffer, it was him and he wished that him dying would bring peace to her shattered heart.
But he knew it couldn't. He could not redeem himself even in death, and that was his own fault.
And fifteen minutes later, he took his last dying breath.
Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hughes and Colonel Roy Mustang were in a cab within five minutes of their discovery. Even if both of them had sobered up quickly at the ominous realization of what they had found in the old files, none of them felt confident to drive, and walking would take too long.
Before leaving, Roy had made a quick phone call to Riza, sighing in relief when she picked up and asked her to dig up all files she could find on Dr. Isla Lucy. She obliged with no questions asked, and the two military officers were out the door with their winter coats flying behind them, still getting dressed.
If this doctor really had something to do with Hohenheim's death, both of the brothers might be in great danger right now, so there was no time to lose.
Roy barked the location they were heading at the chauffeur and told him in his most commanding voice to step on it. They quickly closed the distance between the HQ and the hospital, with Roy on his way out of the car before it was even able to park. Maes apologized and grossly overpaid the driver before heading into the after his long-time comrade.
Within five minutes, they burst into Ed's hospital room.
Edward had woken up about an hour ago. He still felt sluggish, and very nauseous. He had gotten something for the pounding in his head, which seemed to be working, and his stumps weren't aching as much as they had done when he first woke up.
From time to time, he caught himself falling back to sleep, but only for a couple of minutes at the time. Every time the lights went out, he would have dreams about Alphonse, that he was alive, and then, he would remember that it was true, like some sort of reversed nightmare.
A good dream, perhaps. He'd never had too many of those. When he did, he would usually just wake up with a small ignition of hope in his heart, just to have it instantly die out at the realization that he was still lying on a misty, molded mattress, staring at the cracked ceiling in a grey and cold orphanage in Drachma.
Not this time. He would get so excited by the thought of Alphonse being there, that he tore himself awake just to make sure. Just to touch his brother's hand and look into his eyes, see his smile and hear his voice. Reassuring words of "you're okay, brother," or "I'm here, just go back to sleep," made him want to wake up again and again.
He had almost nodded off for the inght time that evening when the door was thrown open. Both of the brother's jumped at the sudden, loud noise. Edwards eyes flew back up and he winched slightly at the abrupt movement, while Alphonse quickly stood up, looking at the door, fists clenched and ready to protect his brother.
"Edward?" mustang panted panickily and looked around the room, checking if they were alone. "Are you okay?"
Maes was acting calmer. He looked at high alert, but clearly assessed the situation as safe, for now.
Quietly, he raised a hand and grabbed Roy's shoulder, getting his attention. They seemingly communicated something with their eyes. Roy looked at the taller man, nodding understandingly before turning back towards the unsettled brothers and cleared his voice.
"Edward, I'm happy to see that you're doing better. But I do have something really important to ask you." He looked towards Al and added, "You too."
Alphonse had a quizzical look on his face as he settled back beside Edward, while a furrow buried its way between Ed's eyebrows, feverish eyes glaring wearily on the two men, as they got seated on the other side of the bed.
"What's going on?" Ed managed to rasp out, stifling a couple of coughs that wanted to force their way out from his still aching chest. He didn't care though. He was sick of being sick and refused to act like it if he could help it. Also, he sensed that something was wrong. Not that it wasn't clear on the two officer's faces, but he was tired of all the secrets. Everyone seemed to have something they kept from him. Information about his life that they didn't share, as if they were protecting him.
He hadn't needed protecting up to this point in his life, so why the hell was everyone starting now?
Maes and Roy exchanged looks again, hesitant. Both apparently wanted the other to start.
"Just spit it out already," Ed demanded angrily. His voice gave out before he could finish his sentence but it still held the impact he wanted.
Roy's expression was urgent as he finally spoke.
"Edward, Alphonse. You're both probably in incredible danger here."
The next hour consisted of Roy and Maes explaining their findings and their suspicions surrounding it. They told Edward about what had happened when the boys had been separated twelve years ago, about the talk they had with the social worker and why she said that they had been split up. Finally, they told them about their father's affiliation to the military, and the undeniable similarities between what had happened when Hohenheim had died, and how Edward was getting mysteriously sicker while under the care of the same doctor that had also been treating them after the fire.
Alphonse was left in shock, staring blankly in front of him and unconsciously hugging himself. He had never once thought that the world could be so cruel.
Edward, on the other hand, had enough experience to know exactly how heartless it could be. He was biting his bottom lip bitterly, clear heavy breathing visibly raising and lowering his chest. For once, not because of the sickness. He was trying to suppress his anger.
"Have you received any medication from Dr. Lucy today?" Maes asked intently, locking eyes with Edward. Ed half-turned his head slowly, before shaking it.
"No," he uttered darkly. "She apparently has the day off."
"Yeah, it's mostly been nurses," Al added shaken.
"Good," Maes answered immediately. "We'll have to talk to anyone who's been dealing with Ed since he got here," he directed towards Roy, who silently agreed. His arms were crisscrossed across his chest, his eyes closed and head turned down.
"Meanwhile, I'm moving you to the infirmary at the HQ," Roy continued firmly. "There, we know we can trust the staff, and it's guarded 24/7. But, we're not telling anyone, understand?" Roy kept out the part of 'so I can keep an eye on you'.
They didn't have much of a choice, but both boys agreed right away.
Luckily, it was late in the evening. The lights around the hospital usually were shut at ten, and there was less staff present. Moving Edward undetected would be a difficult task, but not impossible. The most prominent problem was to unhook him from all the wires, that were literally sticking out of several parts of his body.
Despite being in clear agony, Edward endured it like a champ. The heart monitor was unhooked directly from the wall to make sure it wouldn't alert anyone of it being removed. Now, they just needed to get him out before somebody noticed.
Wrapped snuggly into Maes' coat, they carried Edward quickly through the narrow corridors. Maes and Edward made a point of exiting through the ER, while Alphonse and Roy left through a different door in the back.
That way, if anyone recognized them, Maes could lie and say that Elycia had been sick during the night and that they wanted a doctor to take a look at her. It would look like she was wrapped up to protect her from the cold and sleeping soundly. With Alphonse and Roy taking a different exit, they could tell anyone who was wondering where they were headed, that Roy was taking Al back to the hotel.
The hospital was mostly empty, so the effort was unnecessary and maybe a bit excessive, but they didn't want to take any chances. Not before they knew exactly what was going on.
TBC