Under the Weight of Your Wings-
Chapter 5- So Far Gone
Raeluvs
"So he finally arrives, oh hero of the Rebellion." A mocking voice roused Roy from the confines of a deep sleep. Vague darkness still hung over the all but forgotten city, the stars making their slow pilgrimage to the heavens and the sun bleeding pale blood over the defiled landscape, staining it with pastel tones. Black eyes slid open, blurring with the coming sun and meshing the person before him into its colors.
"You're awfully late, you damned shrimp." Roy growled, sitting up angrily, his voice hostile. Edward smiled thinly, his lips twitching with arrogance. Roy noticed the amazing similarities between Edward's expression and one that he normally wore.
'That just pisses me off.' He thought, his anger deepening. Within an instant he was on his feet, towering over Edward.
"You missed our little date." He said softly, fury eradicating in his tone. "Where were you, shopping somewhere with Alph--" He stopped in mid-sentence and looked around.
"Where is Alphonse?" he asked, feeling ridiculous. Edward cocked his head back at the train platform.
"Sent him back to Central to turn our report into Hawkeye." He said simply, "he didn't know what I found out. Protection's sake."
"That's Lieutenant Hawkeye, short-stop."
"Cut it with the small jokes, Chief."
A few moments of glaring silence hung over them. Edward sighed, annoyed and started walking back to the back of the church. Confused, Roy began to follow him.
"So why Lior?" he asked nonchalantly.
"It was on the way." Edward shrugged. "No one would expect you to come here as it's either overrun or deserted from what I've heard. I took a gamble and bet on deserted, and what do you know- I won."
Roy didn't like the setup presented to him. He didn't sound like Edward; he had his cheesy comebacks and his retorts, but his mien, his air, they were different somehow.
"Give me my information, Edward." He stopped short, slipping his hand into his pocket. A thinly sewn glove slid over his fingers; he readied his attack. Edward looked over his shoulder, boredom plain on his face.
"All your information is in there." He said, pointing at the hollowed wooden door. Roy's eyes narrowed and he took a few paces forward, stepping ahead of Edward. He heard a slight intake of breath from behind and whirled around, whipping his hand from his pocket and clasping his fingers together.
Bang.
The fire split sharply from between his clasped fingers and shot at Edward, incinerating the prepared form before him. The door from behind him spun off with a clang; Roy threw himself to the ground to avoid the deafening blast.
'What the hell was that?' he thought, leaping to his feet. Leaning against the doorframe was a figure that he recognized, vaguely.
"You always have to ruin our fun, don't you?" asked the lean person at the door. He shook his head, his violet eyes gleaming hungrily. "I told you that I had your information and yet…" he started toward Roy, the thin flap of fabric at his waist flipping with his step. Emblazoned into his leg was the blood red emblem of the Oruborus, a dragon eating its own tail.
"You're a homunculus," Roy growled, eyes constricting painfully, the pieces of the puzzle assembling in his brain. "You only knew that Hughes was dead because you were the one who killed him, weren't you!"
"He found out just a bit too much…" a flash blinded Roy for a moment. "… my husband." Gracia Hughes stood in place of the homunculus. Roy gaped, his mouth hanging open.
"You… you imitated his wife…?" Another flash; the figure leaned directly into his face, eyes just inches from his.
"Is that wrong, sir?" Riza Hawkeye's petit lips crooned delicately into his ear. Roy backed hurriedly against the wall, sweat sliding down his face. "I was just following orders…"
'It looks so like her…' he thought, his heart pounding. Her fragile figure wasn't even an inch from him; he was frozen.
"Time for you to get some sleep, Colonel," she breathed, taking a gun from the holster at her waist. Roy was beginning to snap out of his dizzied haze; in slow motion, his hand moved forward; his fingers came together…
The handle of the gun clashed against his head, and the morning sun that had risen over the dust drowned in his eyes, setting again into blackness.
"Time to get up, Roy." A distant, familiar voice drifted through the blackness. "I have new pictures to show you!"
Roy slowly opened his eyes, coming back to consciousness for the second time that day. The sight he saw almost shocked him back into the blackness he had just revived from; his body was literally trembling, shaking. But with what? He rose, horrifically unsteady, from the ground and stared into the distant eyes of the man opposite him.
"M… Maes?"
The man smiled, a wide grin that stretched to the corners of his face. A smile so familiar, one that once held such great warmth and comfort; and yet it was cold and transparent. Roy's head ached; confusion evident on his face.
"Want to see some pictures?" he asked, putting a hand into his pocket. Roy's mind was reeling; this wasn't possible. He was hallucinating, he had to be. Hit in the head one time too many, right?
Thoughts scrolled across his eyes; he wondered if all of his research had not been in vain after all. All those papers, every last damned book; were they worth the sleepless nights and midnight terrors?
'Was it possible after all…?'
"Maes, this is hardly the time for…" but he was cut off:
"No, Roy." Hughes pulled a few snapshots out of his pocket. "You want to see these right now."
Roy looked at him, almost painfully perplexed, and took the pictures from his hand. Staring down at them, his fingers twitched; the edges of the photographs singed.
Riza.
Pictures of her, bound, gagged, spun across the floor. A dark red pool was becoming more and more visible as the pictures, tons of pictures, progressed. Incredulous, he flipped through them again and again; his head snapped up, glaring.
"Maes, what the hell is--" he began, then looked over at the hand the man opposite him was so casually examining.
'The… Oruborus?'
The pictures fell to the ground.
"Bout time you figured it out, old friend." Hughes's voice was grave. Roy gaped, his mouth hanging abruptly open, hands trembling at his side.
"You… you're not Maes Hughes!" he growled, ebony eyes burning with rage. The being before him looked perplexed, but mockingly so; he bent his knees slightly and prepared to spring forward.
"Oh, but of course I am... and yet somehow different." he breathed, grinning, light clashing a glare over his classes; he lunged at Roy, a shield hard as diamonds encrusting over his skin. Roy dodged, diving to the floor, clasping his fingers together once more.
"They call me Greed now!"
A burst of flame throttled toward him, but it merely glanced off of the protective shield that encased his body. Roy glared at the mocking laughter that echoed from within his opponent; the shield dissipated and the form of Maes Hughes remained, grinning smugly.
"This fighting is boring me," he said, "After all, Riza really can't hold out too much longer with all these distractions." Roy stiffened; his hands fell to his sides.
"Take me to her now, Greed." He growled, refusing to mention the name 'Maes' within this monster's presence. He couldn't remember anything about the person that he once was, Roy had sense enough to deduct that. Greed nodded, extending a hand toward the door at the end of the room.
"As you wish."
Roy shoved past him, taking a last look at the photographs on the floor. What would he find, past this door? Would he find Riza the way that she appeared in the photographs? A cold chill spread down his spine, an icy, unfamiliar feeling. As his gloved hand trembled above the knob he remembered that that emotion had a name:
Fear.
Grasping the knob, he twisted it roughly and threw the door open, readying his position for any attackers that he may face. Within an instant, his hand fell to his side, his knees weakening. Sitting before him, gagged at the mouth, bound at the wrists and feet, was Riza, but…
There were two.
"What the hell…" he breathed, disbelieving. Two identical Riza's, both looking horrified, sat propped up against the wall next to one another. The sight was impossible and yet…
Greed came up and put a casual hand on his shoulder and said into his ear:
"One of these Lieutenants is our friend Riza, and the other one is Envy." He explained calmly. He shoved a cold pistol into Roy's hand.
"You have one bullet. Choose wisely, my friend." Roy broke his gaze from the targets of his gun and looked at Greed, his eyes demanding recourse.
"Why do you have his face?" Roy spat in a whisper, his eyes narrowing; sweat slid down his face.
"Why?" Greed repeated, looking directly at him. He leered at him, closely; Roy could feel his breath on his face as his heart finally accepted the truth that he knew all along.
"I am your sin."
A/N: If you're confused, I'll recap next chapter 3 talk to you all later! R&R por favor