Deliver Me

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Chapter Four: Rebirth

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Red and Scar had been talking, a soft plop announced that Red had fallen asleep on his son's shoulder. Probably for at least a day, seeing as how much energy he'd already used.

Standing, Edward ruffled Al's hair affectionately. He wasn't going to leave his brother for long, but... there was something he needed to do, before he spent time with Al.

He stopped in front of Scar, arms crossed over his chest. "Thank you." It wasn't exactly reluctant, but Ed had never been particularly good putting words to feelings. "I know you lied, but..." He sighed. Dammit. "You didn't have to do this. So... thanks."

Still looking as he always was, Scar appeared disinterested. "I did not lie. I could not bring your brother back. Alone, at least. And it would have killed me to try to."

He didn't appear to notice the boy's thanks, instead staring down at his father. "It was somewhat of a favor to someone I knew a long while back. And I dislike watching a man get on his knees and beg for help."

Okay. They kept mentioning this guy, and Edward could only take a few mentions before he started to dig.

"Who was he?"

Just as Scar had ignored his thanks, Edward was ignoring Scar's point. Yeah, it probably would have killed him to bring Al back on his own, but Edward was going to plead selective hearing, though everyone knew he knew what the conscequences would be.

"The son of Robert Hilton, the man who created the human Philosopher's Stone." Scar said quietly, watching Edward with crimson eyes. "Not many knew about his son, the result of his brief love affair with Catherine Mustang."

His father snored softly on his shoulder.

The slight widening of his eyes was the only sign of Edward's surprise. That hadn't been in Mustang's research, and no surprise, if the real conclusion was what Ed was beginning to believe. But it was hard, imagining Mustang getting down on his knees and begging for anything.

Then his brow furrowed, honestly confused. "Why would Mustang beg for you to help me?"

He could see Roy begging for a date, maybe, but to help him? It was too farfetched. He had to be thinking of the wrong guy.

"I am not the one you should be asking." Scar said, staring sideways at him.

Starting to stand up, he eased Red to lie back, the old man grumbled softly before turning and lying down on his side.

Al had stopped crying, now wiping away his tears. "It's because..." He said, sniffling. "He cares about you."

Turning to face his brother, Edward's expression was incredulous. "Al, he hates me!"

Well, maybe that wasn't entirely true. If Mustang hated him, he never would have allowed him the use of his research, documents which were probably more dangerous then most of the forbidden alchemy that could be readily tapped into.

"No, he doesn't." Al insisted. "Whenever you go off somewhere, he worries! Everyone in the office says he spaces out and stuff whenever you go on a mission!"

Scar interrupted easily and quietly. "I would actually possibly switch the word 'cares' to 'loves'. A man does not beg for someone he simply 'cares' for."

Edward was beginning to wish he really did have selective hearing. Worrying? Love? Mustang?

Those words should never have been applied in the same conversation.

"You're both crazy." Edward decided with finality. "Mustang doesn't care about me, and he definitely doesn't love me. And even if he did - which he doesn't! - he won't have to worry about me anymore, because I quit."

Again, yes, but he really meant it this time.

"You really shouldn't go about speaking other people's opinions like they are your own."

Roy stepped into the room, smirking ever so slightly. "You never know, you might not know the truth."

Havoc had been a damn drunkard and left Roy to find Edward's house. Which he hadn't known the address to.

Groaning, Edward buried his face in his hands. "You've got to be fucking joking."

And yet... His stomach knotted. He knew what that meant. He was nervous, and he didn't like it. Not one bit.

He had no reason to be nervous around Mustang. He had stood the guy down before. Hell! He'd punched him hard enough to bruise not two days before. He had no reason to be nervous.

What if Al and Scar were right? Edward's brow furrowed again as he thought, an unconscious habit that he didn't know he had. There was the cat, after all. The same one that he and Al had left in front of someone's house all those years before. And unless its collar had been lying, Mustang had named it Edward.

After him.

And outside, on the street? Mustang had gotten in his face, and not the regular way that Ed could deal with, but literally in his face. Inches away. Not even inches! Less then that.

Now Edward's disbelief was directed at himself, too.

"Unfortunately, no." Roy said with another small smirk. "But I can only be here for a minute, have a lot of work to do at home."

He turned to Al. "Well, Alphonse, it looks like you're a bit taller than your older brother..."

Al turned a bit red. "Ummm...yeah..."

Roy would have said something about needling Edward about that in the future, but he couldn't. Since he wouldn't be seeing the Elric brothers that much from now on.

Next, he went over to Scar, lip twitching. "Your father all right?" He asked, receiving a nod. "And you?" Another nod.

Scar glanced at the outside. "It looked like it was going to start raining. Did you bring an umbrella, Mustang?" He asked, staring at him with his red eyes.

Shaking his head, Roy shrugged. "I'll be fine."

"I heard your car break down while I was walking here with Alphonse."

"I'll be fine."

Last, he went to Edward. "Here." He said, taking Edward's new human hand and his other one. He placed Edward's old pocket watch there carefully. "We can't use it, what with your little inscription inside." He said, "And if we melt it down, the alchemic qualities die. So, go ahead and keep it."

And with that, he turned to go, walking out into the rain.

Staring blankly down at the watch for a long second, Edward shot a glance at Al. "I'll be right back..." He didn't bother to pick up his jacket as he ran out after Roy.

"Hey!" He didn't know what to shout for a name. Mustang? Colonel? Bastard?

Roy?

"Wait up, dammit!" His leg felt weak as he ran to catch up to Roy, rain already soaking through his shirt. It was cold, but he barely noticed. The water didn't seem to matter to him.

His fingers were still curled around the watch, and Edward was suddenly at odds with himself. He had quit, there was no reason for him to be out in the rain, running after Mustang. He wasn't a part of the military anymore, there was no point...

Roy stopped, black hair sticking to his forehead and face. A drop of water fell from his nose, his chin, and off of his eyelashes. It appeared as though he were crying, but of course, Roy was not. He turned completely, waiting until Edward had ran to him and stepped forward to close the gap.

One arm went around Edward's waist, the other caressed his cheek. Leaning over, he covered the boy's mouth with his own as his arm pulled him forward and forced his back to curve.

He wasn't thinking rationally. Not in the least.

Oh. That was why he'd gone after Roy. That made more sense now, though Edward was sure he would be kicking himself later.

His arms went up, around Roy's neck. Eyes shut, lips parted, Edward was already thinking about how he would beat himself up. He was kissing Roy Mustang, in the rain. He supposed the rain had nothing to do with the kiss, but it brought his attention farther away from Roy's lips, and more to the drop of cold water snaking down his back.

Slowly, Roy brought his face away from Edward's, bending down a moment later to kiss his forehead. Then, he let go with a small twitch in his lips that could have been called a smile.

He touched the boy's cheek before his lips murmured a soft 'good-bye'.

Turning back toward the street, he began walking away once again.

Edward wrapped his arms around himself, watching Roy go with raw confusion on his face. The rain ceased to matter; all he could focus on was the blue jacket that was rapidly receding from his sight. Then it was gone, and Ed was left alone in the rain.

Cold, confused, and wet, he turned slowly, his new leg feeling weaker then the water pouring down on him. It was with a slight, nearly invisible limp that he made his way back up the sidewalk, and into the house.

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It was the third day in a row that Roy had sent a messenger to work saying he wouldn't be coming in. The paperwork on his desk was building up, he'd missed five meetings.

The current messenger was a young man, timid looking and fearful as he walked slowly into the main office in Central. In his hand was a note signed by the Fuhrer himself stating that he was 'feeling ill' and could not come in that day.

The boy stared at the desk of Riza Hawkeye, the woman of the same name seated at it. He'd heard about what had happened to the other boys who'd left messages...And they weren't pleasant. In fact, he'd heard that they involved guns.

Gulping, he walked forward. "A...a message from the Fuhrer." He said, holding the note out at a full arm's length.

Hawkeye looked up, impatient and clearly annoyed. Taking the note, she read it quickly and stood from her desk. It was the third day Roy had neglected to show up at his desk, and this was the third note that she had the inclination to tear to pieces.

Tearing the note would get her nowhere, and leave her with increased frustration. Ignoring the messenger save for a dismissing order, she was around her desk and out the door in a matter of seconds. Steps, sidewalks, and corners blurred into one as she marched purposefully for one Roy Mustang's residence.

He was not getting away with this.

The door opened, a man stood there. Some kind of butler or something. Several of the dogs came out, the cat strode up to Hawkeye and rubbed against her leg. He liked her.

"He is in the courtyard, ma'am." The man said, bowing and waving her inside. He knew better than to instruct Hawkeye that Roy was not accepting visitors.

There was a black cloud rising from the center of the house, where the courtyard was. Smoke.

Nodding her thanks at the butler, Hawkeye didn't look down at Edward. He would either follow her, or go off and sulk. Striding through the house, she stopped just inside the courtyard.

"Roy!" They had known each other long enough now; he should have known better then to try to avoid her. He was either avoiding the judgment he knew would come, or work.

Both were likely.

Roy was tossing yet another book onto the fire, a couple already burning. "Hello, Riza." He said over his shoulder.

He'd figured she'd had enough by now.

Turning, he picked up another book from a stone bench and tossed it from the rest. Dozens more were as well. "I hope you're not going to arrest me for burning books. It's necessary for me to get on with life."

Several of the books had the last name 'HILTON' written in fancy cursive. Journal-type leather bound books that smelled disgusting while they burned. Roy didn't seem to notice.

She sighed as she stepped into the courtyard, expression softening almost imperceptibly. "It doesn't take three days to burn your library, Roy."

That was what he looked to be doing. The pile of books on the bench was large, some stacked behind it. She knew his library was extensive, she had been the one to pull him out of it several times before, but it looked as if he was trying to burn an entire wing.

He may as well have set fire to the house.

"No, but it takes three days to build up the nerve to burn my father's entire life." Roy said, tossing another one onto the fire. Thick clouds of burning leather made the outdoor room almost suffocating.

He tried to feel nothing as he dumped another load onto the fire. All the research journals that he'd saved, papers that had taken forever to decipher. Only four people on this planet had read them...until Edward Elric decided to research the Deliverance Alchemist.

Flakes of burned paper began to rise up to the sky, toward the sun. It was as though they were reaching for heaven...

Sighing softly, Roy threw two of his own research papers onto the pile. "I was supposed to dispose of these years ago, anyway."

No... If he had wanted it burned, a simple snap would have done it, and the entire wing would have been up in smoke. There was something deeper then that, and Hawkeye had the sneaking suspicion that he wouldn't tell her without a fight.

And that seemed to be the basis of their friendship.

There was some part of her that didn't want to know. She was curious, of course, but her own curiosity aside, she did not want to know what was in those books, and what was making Roy so distressed.

Stepping past the benches with all the intent and purpose of a military woman, she did the last thing she had ever expected herself to do. Her arms wrapped around Roy in a brief, stiff hug, like she wasn't quite sure what the action meant.

Roy sure wasn't expecting that, turning slightly. Then he smiled a little. "Thanks." He said softly, staring at her.

He had to go back to work soon. He couldn't keep away for long. "I suppose...if you're going to just drag me to the office..." He said, turning to the remaining books. From his pocket he pulled a glove out and slipped it onto his hand.

Leading Hawkeye away from them, they were soon smoking with the rest of them. "But before I leave I need to feed the animals."

The butler-y person strode up to the pile of smoking, burning books and sprayed them with a fire extinguisher. He'd have to call a crew to haul them away...

Roy wasn't going to let the butler feed his 'babies'. They didn't really trust anyone else.

Following Roy back into the house, through halls and up stairs into the kitchen, Hawkeye determindly ignored her actions. It wasn't unusual for her to do things around Roy that she wouldn't normally do, and she had decided early on that she simply wouldn't think about them.

The dogs swarmed around them, and a yowl from behind them made the sea of canines part. Edward all but trotted down the aisle of dogs, clearly proud of himself.

Hawkeye smiled inwardly, bending down to pick up the small cat. He really was just like his namesake.

"He's such a brat." Roy said over his shoulder, staring at little Edward. He wasn't sure who he was talking about right then. "All the dogs are afraid of him, except the puppies. And for some reason, he doesn't seem to mind when they crawl all over him."

Those six were actually jumping at his feet right then. He picked up a small can. "Catfood." He said, showing it to the cat. "It's your favorite, tuna."

He unscrewed it, turning it into a small, clear glass dish. "Come and get it, Ed."

The rest of the dog food came next, into at least two dozen different bowls each with the dog's name. Except for the puppies, though, who hadn't been named just yet. "What should I name them...?" He wondered aloud, scratching one behind the ears as she lapped up her meat food.

"Let's go." He said to Hawkeye, picking up his jacket. Time for work.

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TBC

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Suqua: WHEE!