Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist, obviously, so don't sue me. I'm a poor college student busily incurring a great deal of debt, so it'd be like squeezing blood from a stone, really.
Chapter 2: The Shadow of Steel
The camp seethed with activity as personnel scrambled to load supplies onto waiting trucks. Messengers dashed back and forth, relaying orders and getting under everyone's feet. The perimeter guards halted them at the checkpoint and sent them on. Outside the infirmary a few minutes later, they were intercepted by a harried-looking medic. He took in their assortment of cuts, slings and bruises, caught sight of the suit of armor...and the scales on Waldenmeyer's face. His eyes widened, and he started to move past the armor to the chimera when the steel body shifted to block his path. The man paled when it spoke, recognizing Colonel Elric's voice as he requested that Brigadier General Havoc be informed that his team would be in the infirmary. The medic led them into the tent without a word. Before he left he informed them that it would take some time to be debriefed or even seen to until the chaos of packing up died down.
So they waited. Connor unpacked some iodine and began tweezing ground-in shrapnel out of the more drastic cuts. The suit of armor lay the colonel's body down on one of the beds beside Bell, then assisted the second lieutenant mutely, bandaging the wounds and resetting Hart's broken arm. It didn't speak again, and its movements grew more and more stilted as the minutes ticked by. Connor hoped it was a sign that the colonel would soon awaken. Waldenmeyer and his men kept to a corner, all of them dozing except for major himself and the two other ranking officers. They sat hunched, staring at nothing, apparently lost in thought. The major only moved to wave Connor off when he offered to look them over. "We're fine. Your people bore the brunt of it. See to yourselves."
They all started when the armor finally shuddered and collapsed, the head rattling emptily into a corner. Connor stepped around Lane's cot and checked the Colonel's pulse, but there was no change. Walder peered inside the empty metal carapace and shivered. "Do you really think the Colonel lived like that for four years?"
Connor, who at thirty-seven was the oldest of the group, answered her. "I saw him and his brother in 1912. Everybody knew a suit of armor followed the Fullmetal Alchemist around, but the higher-ups were the only ones who knew the whole story, and only a few of them. And the Fullmetal himself didn't exactly invite questions on the subject. I had heard he had a hell of a temper for a little cuss."
Walder looked thoughtfully toward the bed the colonel occupied. "Connor, aren't you older than Colonel Elric? I mean, our Colonel Elric?"
"By seven years, yeah."
Walder could see that everyone else was doing the math as well. "But for the Fullmetal to be in service in 1912…"
Conner half-smiled at the realization dawning in the other faces around the room. "He couldn't have been more than fourteen. And our fearless leader was all of thirteen at the time."
"I wondered how he made Colonel so young." Hart was looking at the unconscious man as well. Sleeping, the colonel's face was barely lined, and gray had yet to touch his bronze hair. It was a gentle face, true to the Colonel's nature, but deceptive in that his experience hardly showed . . . unless his eyes were open. Then someone might catch a glimpse at the truth behind the rumor that surrounded the Elrics. The Colonel's eyes were older than they had any right to be. They peeled the myth away, and let one wonder if every whispered horror of his and his brother's legend was true . . .
Daniels's expression almost awed. "Did you see the way he went back for Bell?"
Klaus frowned from where she stood against the wall, arms folded. "It was foolish. He should have sent one of us back."
"It was brave!" Daniels insisted. Klaus's dark gaze bore into him, then flicked to Connor. "You explain," she directed.
The field medic sighed out a "Yes, ma'am", but pierced the rookie with a look as direct as the lieutenant's. "It was brave. But the lieutenant is right. It was also really stupid."
"But--" Daniels checked his tongue as Connor raised a hand.
"Look, kid. I've been around a while, and I've been passed through a lot of officers who were incompetent, wouldn't tolerate the fact that I spoke up when I thought they were wrong, who were cruel to their men or cowards. The Colonel's none of that, and I'm glad of it. I hope you're retired before you realize how lucky you were to get him right off the cadet lists. The man would die for any of us, and that's the truth."
He leaned in, staring the corporal in the eye. "But that's exactly what the danger is. The Colonel would do that, not expecting that we'd do the same, that if he gets hurt we have to help. Lose one of us, and the rest will probably get out of it alive, but lose him—" Connor made a slicing motion across his throat. "Command throws us all at things knowing what he can do. I wouldn't have given a used hanky for our chances in that bunker this morning if he'd gone down any earlier. And that's the other thing," he added, his dark eyes no longer on the rookie but on the still form occupying the furthest cot. "He can't stand us dying on him, any more than he can stand to kill." Connor said it softly, reading looks of realization and agreement in the faces of the senior officers.
Daniels frowned. "How is he supposed to stand it? What do you mean?"
Connor looked away to the colonel, then back at the senior officers. "You all remember when Redman and Stockbridge got killed." It wasn't a question. There was no doubting they remembered the men that Daniels and Tocker had joined the unit to replace, in body if not spirit.
"What happened?" Daniels asked. He and Tocker were looking around at the suddenly grim faces.
"Ambush. Not the Colonel's fault; some joker of a major general screwed us over by marching us straight into a line of Drachmar subversives hiding in a bog. The colonel put a wall between us and them, but Stocks and Klev were down before we even knew they were there."
Lane smiled bitterly into the silence. "I always told Stocky I'd outrank him one day. Never occurred to me his punching out would prove me right."
"And you all remember what happened with the Colonel after they died." Connor continued.
Lane laughed, the shadow over his face lifting somewhat. "You punched him."
Daniels and Tocker gaped. "You punched him?"
Connor narrowed his eyes at the snickering sergeant. "I'm trying to make a point to the rookie, you ass. I punched the colonel to snap him out of the week-long spell when he barely ate and only talked when he had to."
Daniels and Tocker's eyes widened. They weren't the only ones.
"He stopped eating over that?" Hart asked, aghast.
"I never knew that." Walder looked just as taken aback.
"I knew." Lieutenant Klaus informed them softly. "All the orders, all the planning was as sharp as before. I think he was desperate to keep us all safe after that. But outside of duty he stayed away from everyone, including us. The Brigadier General tried talking to him, but it didn't help."
"Even punching him didn't bring him out of it." Connor remembered, the barest hint of a smile playing on his face. "So I got desperate and called his brother."
"His brother?" Tocker spluttered. "The Fullmetal Alchemist. You just called him up out of the blue." Even Klaus was looking at him in surprise, and perhaps approval.
Connor grinned, his audience letting him warm into the story. "Pretty much. I got his number from some pencil pusher I know at Central. The number went to the lab closest to where he was on the southern border, so it took him two days to get back to me. At first I thought he was the dead opposite of the Colonel. Rude cuss. I didn't even tell him my name before he cut me off to ask what the hell I wanted. But he went quiet when I said it was about the Colonel." Connor knew Elric had thought he had called to report his brother's injury or death, which was usually what calls from anonymous servicemen meant. The relief had been strong in the alchemist's voice when he thanked him and hung up. "He was on the Drachmar border by two in the morning, three days later. Must've driven like a bat out of hell to get there." Connor laughed, recalling it. "He wasn't what I expected at all."
"What do you mean?" Tocker had leaned forward, intent on Connor's tale.
The second lieutenant grinned. "Well, you know how all those dime novels describe him. You know, all flawlessly heroic, cleft chin, dashing smile, long golden hair, eyes that make women swoon--" Connor batted his own at Walder and ducked the bed pillow she threw at him. "All that crap. Plus, his voice was deeper than the Colonel's, so I thought he'd be the taller of the two." The others looked askance at him when he started laughing before he explained precisely why the story was so hilarious.
"So here I am, it's two fifteen in the morning and I'm waiting up to see the "human weapon" out of Amestrian dime-store legend, who called an hour before to tell Havoc that they have to keep this on the down-low, because no one's realized yet that he's gone AWOL in order to get up there. Best conversation I ever had the pleasure of overhearing. You should have heard the Brigadier General swear when he got off the phone. But then he looks at me--" Here Connor mimed the Brigadier General's long jaw, set in a grim line. "—and he goes, 'You heard the little cuss. Make sure nobody sees him when you escort him to Colonel Elric.'"
"I can't believe the higher-ups would tie themselves in so many knots for this guy, even if he is a war hero." Hart shook his head as the rest laughed.
Connor smirked in reply. "It gets better. So I'm waiting outside to escort this guy and someone in civvies walks up and asks where the hell Havoc is. Doesn't add the rank or the sir, which should have told me something right then, but it's two in the morning, remember, and I've been up since four the day before. So my brain sees the clothes and thinks 'this fucking civilian is trying to push past me', so I unsling my rifle and tell him to state his fucking business and who the fuck he is."
Walder's expression was somewhere between laughter and horror. "You didn't."
"I sure did. Next thing I know there's a flash, my rifle muzzle suddenly looks like a bowtie, and this guy who barely comes up to my chin--" Connor held out his hand to indicate the man's height—"has yanked me down so I'm face to face with these mean, bloodshot, yellow eyes. Then the guy snarls right in my face, 'I'm Edward fucking Elric, and my fucking business is none of yours.'"
Connor laughed just as heartily as everyone else despite the joke being at his expense. Even Waldenmeyer's men joined in. He wiped his eyes and kept going, raising his voice over the roar of laughter, catcalls and cheering. "He says that and I finally figure out it's the same voice I heard over the phone three days ago. Only then do I realize I've nearly assaulted Edward Elric, legend in the flesh and steel."
"He only came up to your chin?" Daniels looked torn between laughter and incredulousness, as though trying to decide whether Connor and the others were having a joke at his expense.
"Swear to God, may I be drowned in the cafeteria tapioca if I lie." Connor assured him, chortling. "He didn't look real heroic, either. He looked more like a guy that had driven for three days straight. Walder, you'll have to tell me whether bloodshot eyes make you swoon, 'cause they don't do much for me." He ducked another flying object and continued. "So I led him to the Colonel, they talked, and the Fullmetal Alchemist left before dawn."
"You didn't hear what he said?" Tocker asked, disappointed. Connor could tell the rookie wanted to redeem the hero whose image had been soiled by his portrayal of a foul-mouthed midget.
Connor gave him a direct look. "I did. They didn't dismiss me, so I stuck around. Elric told the Colonel…exactly what he needed to hear." His tone was final, stating clearly that he had said all he meant to. Daniel and Tocker looked like five year olds who had just had their candy snatched away. Seeing their disappointment, Connor added, "I will say this. There was enough in what he said to tell me that anyone who says he was responsible for Lior doesn't know shit from steak at the Alabaster." He knew that would brighten Tocker up at least. Any time a debate turned to Lior (which it never did if Colonel Elric was present), Tocker always jumped to the Elrics' defense.
"How do you know?" Hart questioned. He was one of the skeptics who maintained that the Lior disaster might have been caused by a state alchemist, though there was no proving it unless and until the military gave them up.
"Because, and I want you to understand what I'm saying, the older Elric is exactly like our fearless leader at heart. He just hides it better. The Colonel couldn't have managed killing our own people at Lior. Hell, you've seen him, he never even kills foreign soldiers." Connor watched as Hart's skeptical look softened into thoughtfulness. "Him and his brother, judging from what I heard then and what I've heard around, take every risky task they're handed to keep other people out of harm's way."
"Whatever they said could have just been for your benefit." Hart shrugged defensively with the shoulder that wasn't bandaged as everyone looked at him. "I'm just saying."
Connor snorted. "Then it was the best spun, most eloquent piece of bullshit I've ever heard, and the Elric brothers could put any film star to shame."
The tread of boots snapped the group out of their debate, and a man's voice filtered through the canvas divider. "Your patient's through here, doctor." A hand pulled the canvas aside, and a woman in a blue medic's coat walked through.
Connor had to look twice to get his brain to register past the uniform and her insignia of a major. The woman was beautiful. Not in a classic way; the eyes were slightly too tilted, her straight nose a bit long, her skin a dusky olive. But her eyes were cinnamon-brown and warm with laughter, her lips were full, and her nose balanced a well-boned face positively crammed with character. This one's a spitfire, Connor thought as his eyes made the customary dance to her hands, checking for a wedding band. Wonder if she's lonely…His speculation broke off as he caught a gold glint on her hand. Seeing the ring, he sighed mentally, tipping some faceless man a rueful salute. Hope the bastard knows how lucky he is. He wondered idly if he knew the bastard in question; that ring looked familiar…
His attention was so focused on the woman that it took a moment to realize Brigadier General Havoc had been the one to escort her into the tent. Everyone able to do so shot to their feet and saluted. Lane saluted from his cot, a jaunty, lady-killer smile already in place. "General Havoc sir, thank you for sending the most beautiful nurse in the service. I'll be sure to name one of our children after you."
The brigadier general blinked at him. Connor put a hand over his face. Lane, you ass…He had just managed to place the ring that matched the medic's.
The brigadier general looked from Lane to the woman, fighting to keep a straight face and failing miserably. The medic lifted one cool, dark brow at the sergeant's winning smile. When she spoke, her voice was rich with amusement and an Eastern accent. "I don't have a say in this?"
"Nope." Lane looked as dashing as Connor supposed was possible on a military cot with a bandage around your head. The second lieutenant caught Klaus and Walder rolling their eyes in unison. They knew. Lane was about to be shot down in the flaming wreckage of his ego, and he would never see it coming.
"What about my husband?" One lovely hand displayed the band, braided with three shades of gold.
"A husband that doesn't follow wherever you choose to go clearly has no concept of how he couldn't possibly deserve you." Lane returned gallantly.
The brigadier general choked, unlit cigarette flying out of his mouth. Lane pointedly ignored him.
The woman only smiled. "Perhaps. But before you explain why you are so much worthier, I have to see my patient." She padded to the bed where Colonel Elric lay. His head was turned toward them, so that they could see his face had relaxed enough to have fallen into true sleep. She laid light fingers on his wrist, checking his pulse, then pulled back the dressing on his forehead and frowned. "How did he get this?" she addressed the room.
Klaus spoke up. "Ma'am, a chunk of flying ice made that cut."
The medic's fingers probed the colonel's head gently. "I thought it had to have been a rock. It fractured his skull for him. I need new bandages, please."
Connor tripped over Lane as the other man charged to bring a handful to her. Connor rolled his eyes at the sergeant's muttered "I saw her first" and laid his share of the bandages on the tray. "How could you tell his skull was fractured just by touching it?" he asked.
The woman gave him a brilliant smile. "Because I am an alchemist as well." A needle flashed, pricking one long finger. When the blood welled, she drew a tangled circle around the wound. She laid two fingers on it and smiled as it flared with green-gold light. When the glow died, the cut was still there, but it was no longer so deep or broad, and blood no longer welled from it.
"You didn't seal the cut so that oxygen is allowed kill the bacteria?"
She looked at him interestedly. "That's right. Are you a medic?"
"Field medic assigned to Colonel Elric. I would have dressed that wound sooner, but in my defense, the only way to sew up the colonel is if he lets you. Big stoic." Connor added with affectionate disgust. He ignored Lane's elbow jabbing him the ribs.
The lovely brown eyes had turned back to the colonel. She sat down lightly on the edge of his bed, then reached out and ran gentle fingers through his hair, leaning over so that they were nearly nose to nose, her own long tresses falling over her shoulder in a dark, rippling curtain. Out of the corner of his eye, Connor could see Lane's face contorting in all manner of interesting expressions.
"Mmmm." Eyes still closed, the colonel sighed and turned his face into her hand.
"Good morning, love," she whispered, though not soft enough that Lane and Connor couldn't hear her clearly. Connor thought he saw a dark eye flick wickedly in Lane's direction.
Al's eyes flickered open to a face that was beautiful in its familiarity as well as its form. "Hey there," he said softly. Oblivious to his audience, he pushed himself to his elbows, and warm lips leaned down to meet him.
Connor had been watching Lane when the colonel got kissed, so he knew the exact moment comprehension brought its hammer down on the man's skull. He hadn't known the sergeant could blush like that, and his groan of embarrassment made both the colonel and the doctor turn. When she did, the gold name tag that had been concealed by a lapel became visible, emblazoned with the letters"A. Elric." The colonel's left hand rested on the medic's shoulder, allowing a good view of a ring that was a larger duplicate of the one she had flashed. Lane threw an arm across his eyes, grimacing melodramatically. "I humbly request that someone shoot me. Klaus, Connor, I know you love me. Kill me."
Connor grinned cheerfully and raised his hand. "Colonel Elric sir, I volunteer to put the sergeant out of our misery."
Once Al was updated on the situation, Havoc filed everyone out, saying that he would request Al's report after the main group rejoined General Raven. Once the room was empty, Al's eyes went back to Arelana. A grin blazed to life in his face as he swept his wife into his arms and spun. "I didn't know you were coming!" he crowed, artlessly happy.
Lana waited until he had set her down and kissed her soundly to reply. "Didn't you get my letter?"
Her husband grinned sheepishly. "I didn't have time before the raid. I like to read them when no one's around."
"Dope." Lana smiled up at him and rapped the back of her hand against his arm. Al caught the hand and brought it to his lips. "So, why are you here?" he said, smiling against her fingers.
Lana gave him a regretful look that warned whatever she said next was sure to break the mood. "Well, officially, my unit is here to help evacuate the wounded from the border. Unofficially…" She leaned over and whispered into his ear. "There was a message an hour ago that they wanted me, specifically, because there was the possibility of chimera." His wife leaned back and frowned thoughtfully. "Though how they think I could be more expert than you or your brother is beyond me."
Al's playful mood was smothered as his thoughts turned to the Aerugan alchemist and his "progeny". Lana looked at him concernedly as his face folded. "What happened? You didn't find any, did you?"
"We did. We brought him…back…." Lana watched her husband's bronze eyes widen in alarm. "Oh, no. I can't believe I forgot about him!" His face twisted as berated himself under his breath, casting around for his boots and cloak. He jammed it all on and rushed for the door, snagging his wife's hand as he passed. "Come on!"
They found his team in the middle of debriefing two tents away. Normally respectful of protocol, Al bulled into the tent in a manner that reminded Lana strongly of her brother-in-law. "Lane! What happened to the boy?"
Startled, the sergeant who had been hitting on her in the infirmary leapt to his feet. "Sir! The medical staff took him off my hands when we arrived. They may have put him with the other children."
Al didn't take the time to reply. He whirled them both around and plunged back out of the tent.
Despite the glow of predawn, visibility was terrible as they ran through the haze of mud and rain. It was Arelana who spotted the small figures being loaded into two medical vans. Al skidded to a halt in front of one man in a white field-surgeon's uniform and flashed his silver watch. "I'm Alphonse Elric. This is Arelana Elric, the Healing Alchemist. Where are these children are being taken?"
The medic saluted but left his hand in place to shield his glasses from the rain. "Sir, I was instructed by Brigadier General Havoc to take them to the Army Hospital at Central. He insisted that we be among the first out." The man added pointedly
"I'm sorry, but this won't take a minute," Al replied, preoccupied with searching the ragged knot of children for a pair of golden eyes. Puzzled at lapse of activity, the huddle of children in the truck peered out the rear doors. Then one of them spotted the figure in the tattered gray cloak and crowed in a piping voice, "It's the man with the lightning! The Light Man, look! Look, you guys! He came back!" The horde leapt past the startled medics and barreled into an equally startled Al. They cheered and laughed, dancing with their hands in held up to the rain, reaching for his cloak, his hands, anything they could touch. Al looked around helplessly from where he stood, knee-deep in a veritable sea of humanity. Lana caught his expression and laughed, but her eyes were bright with pride.
"He isn't here?" she asked, meaning the chimera. Alphonse was still peering around frantically. "I can't see him. Hey guys--" Al addressed his following. "Did you see a boy with dark gold eyes, sort of like mine? He looks a little…different from you." he finished lamely.
The children thought it over, murmuring amongst themselves. Then a girl's voice piped from somewhere in the morass. "Mr. Al! I saw a boy in a blanket. I think he had gold eyes. A man took him away."
Al felt his heart plunge as though the ground had fallen out from under him. "Is that you, Kaila? Which way did they go?"
"Over there." She pointed down the row of trucks awaiting their load of men or equipment. "Want me to show you?"
"Yes, please. We have to hurry." Al turned to the medics and stabbed a finger at the one in glasses. "You're coming with us. You--" he said grimly, pointing to the other. "You will watch these children in the meantime. This truck doesn't move until I get back, are we clear?"
"But--" Any protest the man might have made died when he caught the look on Al's face. "Yes sir."
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Alphonse came around one armored van and nearly walked into the muzzle of a rifle. Kaila looked up when he stopped, freezing when she saw the gun. Like Al, Arelana started but recovered quickly, her eyes narrowing. "Pointing a gun at superior officer can earn you five years in prison." She said it coolly, her level gaze never leaving the man's face. "Pointing it at my husband can get you killed." He quiet voice was low and loaded with deadly promise. "Lower the rifle, captain, and explain yourself."
"No need." A man stepped from behind the truck. He stopped two feet away from Alphonse and addressed the taller man's collarbone. "I am Acting Colonel Reeves. I apologize for Captain Welk. He was instructed to guard the cargo."
Alphonse addressed the man in a clipped voice. "Your cargo is what, and headed where?"
The officer smiled thinly. "That would be top secret information."
Al's eyes narrowed. "Not secret from me. I'm Colonel Alphonse Elric. My team brought the chimera in. I want to know where you're taking it."
The man's face didn't move, but Al felt that behind his eyes the thin smile had grown a little wider. "I know of no chimera. Sir."
Al's mouth twisted. "Who's your superior?"
"I answer to General Grumman. Sir." The honorific was lagged deliberately as the man attempted to antagonize him. "Perhaps you've heard of him."
Al kept the concern from his face at hearing the man drop the name of that particular general. What does Internal Affairs want with a chimera...?
"Internal Affairs has no jurisdiction over a human chimera." he informed Reeves, merely to see the formalities out of the way. Al wasn't about to let the truck leave with its living cargo still aboard, and the only one who didn't know it was the pompous little man in front of him. Keeping a tight rein on his temper, Al addressed Reeves once more in his most patient tone. "I ask that you release him into my custody."
The acting colonel finally abandoned his pretense of ignorance. He turned a cold eye up at Al, obviously trying to cow the taller man. He looked away when he just as obviously failed to do so. "Our orders come from the Major General. You have no authority to countermand them." He recited the words to Al's chest as though he had learned them by rote. "Get out of our way." Behind him, several rifles cocked.
Al sighed resignedly and clapped his hands, then turned back to Reeves. "I suggest that your men not shoot. I just changed the composition of the air you're standing in to pure oxygen. Any friction could cause a flame that would incinerate you in seconds. That includes a spark of static electricity, so if I were you, Acting Colonel, I wouldn't move." The entire detachment froze. The acting colonel glared at him weakly. "You're lying. You wouldn't dare."
Al smiled grimly, all tooth and no cheer. "Just remember, I warned you." He walked away from the sputtering man.
"You can't do this," The acting colonel spat viciously. He craned his neck to follow Al's retreating back, but otherwise made no move to follow. His men were being very careful to remain absolutely still. "There will be repercussions, I promise you."
"There always are," Al's voice returned from inside the truck. There was a flash of blue light from the interior, a squealing cry, and he emerged again with a small, blanket-swathed form braced against his shoulder. As his feet met ground again Lana's slim hand touched his shoulder, lending more than physical support. The look he turned on her was heavy with memory. "There always are," he repeated softly. Then, louder—"Let's go."
Author's Note: Wheee! Two chapters posted. My homework is weeping from neglect (I'm a terrible, irresponsible person. It's a lot of fun, really). Don't go away, Ed fans, our favorite frenetic blond pipsqueak is coming up in the next chapter.