This is an idea that's been playing hell with my creative process, that really wanted an AU fic written: what if alchemists were outlawed as unholy or political terrorists? Then I thought, duh, Ishvar. But I had to use it, anyway.
Disclaimer: One who disclaims. That would be me.
Three hundred ninety-five words: Secret Society
-----
Kain Fuery stood floored in the doorway. "You guys are alchemists?"
"Don't talk so fuckin' loud," the blond-headed boy growled.
"Brother," the one next to him, with slightly darker hair, said warningly.
"You're not gonna snitch on 'em, are you, kid?" Jean asked.
It was Jean that the small man had originally come to see, some companionship in the wee hours of the morning with coffee and the lingering scent of cigarettes in the still air of Jean's dorm room.
"You know they could execute you for that," Kain said more softly, shutting the door behind him.
"If they found out," said a smug, dark-haired man who had his feet resting on Jean's bed. He was snapping his fingers absently, and every time he did, the smell of sulfur would announce itself and a small spark would go off.
"Anyway, if he tried to tell, we could take care of him," the blond said.
"He won't," Jean said hurriedly. "Will you, Kain?" The questioned shook his head, almost frantic.
All his life, Kain Fuery had heard that alchemists were the lowest of the low, scum of the earth, the dregs of society. He had never questioned the government's choice to immediately execute anyone they found practicing the forbidden science. But that Jean, his closest and only friend, would freely associate with men like this…!
"The shrimp's got a point," the cocky one said. Ignoring the sudden rant the blond exploded into, he continued. "If you so much as mention it to anyone, you'll go up–" he snapped "in a puff of smoke."
"You don't have to threaten him, Roy," Jean said, holding an arm out for the terrified-looking Kain, who immediately went to his side. In the enveloping one-armed embrace, Kain sighed, a little more at ease. That Roy guy was kind of scary. "You either, Ed." Jean turned to look at the blond and his brother. The one Kain assumed to be Ed sniffed and crossed his arms over his chest; his brother smiled apologetically. "Kain can keep a secret."
"I keep secrets," Kain agreed. "Like this one–" he stopped. If you keep secrets, you don't tell secrets to prove that you can keep them.
To his surprise, Ed laughed, and then so did everyone else. With a wobbly smile and equally wobbly knees, he leaned into Jean for support, feeling accepted.
