Chapter three
The smell was horrible. It was definitely decaying human flesh. The smell of his dead subordinate was filling the hallway, making him gag. He needed help. He couldn't deal with this on his own. He needed Hawkeye to help him.
Roy could still feel the soft golden hair in his fingers. It was choking him.
Somebody had just left Edward's head in that box as a surprise for Roy. He felt the tears pressing, then just streaming down his face. He staggered over to the phone and dialled the number to Hawkeye's apartment, hoping that she was home.
"Riza Hawkeye speaking."
Roy sank to the floor, his back against the wall. He was just breathing into the phone, still choking on his tears.
"Roy? What's wrong?" Hawkeye had obviously recognised the sound of his breathing and had reverted to calling him by his first name as this obviously was personal.
"Hawkeye, please … It's Ed … he … he's … I can't … help." Roy couldn't get himself to say it. Everything hurt. With Maes he hadn't been alone. He hadn't found his head. He had been at work. He'd had a reason to keep himself together. But now he was alone and it was Ed. It was his kid.
"Where are you?" Hawkeye said.
"Home."
"I'll be right there."
The phone was hung up.
Roy was still holding the letter in his left hand. Hawkeye couldn't see that. Nobody could. He pulled an ignition glove out of the drawer next to him and slid it over his fingers. He put the letter down on the stone floor and snapped. He watched as the threat against those he cared about vanished and was replaced by ashes, but it didn't change anything. Ed was dead. His Ed. Roy didn't even try to stop the tears. All he did was put the glove back inside the drawer and closed it.
Then he put his head in his hands as he felt himself trapped within his body. He couldn't breathe, his chest hurt so much. He was drowning in tears. He had never lost it like this before. He had always had something that would drive him forwards. With Hughes it had been revenge, but now Roy couldn't do that. He was obviously at fault for this. Ed was his punishment. He had got him killed. He had got him slaughtered and left inside a cardboard box without the rest of his body. They wouldn't have anything other than a head to bury and Roy couldn't even go back to Ishbal to search for the rest of the body without putting Al and the rest if his team at risk.
And Al. What would he tell Al?
The hollow, pain-filled balloon that kept growing inside his chest was pulsating at the thought. Ed was really gone. His stubborn kid was gone.
Gone.
Roy just sat there, crying, until the door opened and Hawkeye came in and knelt in front of him, putting a hand on his upper arm. "Roy, what's going on? You're supposed to be in Ishbal with Edward."
Roy couldn't even look at her. At the mention of the name his chest constricted and he couldn't breathe. Instead he just pointed towards the box that held the boy's head. Hawkeye stood up and Roy soon heard her gag. Then came the click of a gun right before it was emptied into the wall. Roy didn't care. He could hear her crying silently. She sat down on the floor in front of him.
"They gave you his head?" was all she managed to say. "What happened?"
"We were attacked. I woke up in my bed. I thought it was just a nightmare. Then I found him. Hawkeye, what do I tell Alphonse? He's waiting for us in Resembool."
Hawkeye was quiet for a few seconds and then she leaned forwards and grasped his hands in hers. "Roy, you need to be there for him. You can't close yourself off like you did with Hughes. E-Edward wouldn't want that."
Roy could practically hear Edward say that. It gave him a feeling of déjà vu. Had Ed said that to him? Had it happened during the attack somehow?
God, how he just wanted to hug him like everything was alright and he was still alive and breathing and in one piece. He had yet to give the boy a hug. It just hadn't felt right because he had been afraid of crossing some kind of boundary because god knew how messed up things had been with Hohenheim.
And now it was too late.
Al had been different. He had hugged him the moment he was done talking to them in the hospital. And Hawkeye was right. Al was going to need him. And Roy was going to need Al. He just didn't know how to tell Al that his brother was gone. How the hell could he do that to him?
Ed was lying on top of a hill, a pair of binoculars pressed against his eyes, watching through the window as Mustang cried his heart out. Ed had never seen the man look so broken, it made him want to just punch Fredricks beside him and run forwards to show Mustang that he was alive.
"Sir? The package has been delivered and received. The bird is with him now," Fredricks said into the radio in his hand.
"Good. Report back here by eight o'clock sharp tomorrow morning. That is all," a male voice answered.
Ed punched the ground beside him in frustration as Fredricks put the radio away. "You bastard! I guess you're happy now?!" Ed hissed, wiping a tear away.
"Yes. You're not dead and Mustang stays out of Ishbal. Everybody wins."
"And what does he gain?! He's trying to make things right and all he's getting for it is a dead subordinate! What about my brother?!"
"Shut up, kid." Fredricks didn't seem moved at all. Ed wouldn't have been surprised if the guy didn't possess any empathy at all.
"Why would you save me if you don't care?!" Ed hissed, his fists clenched. Ed just wanted to run away from this disgusting man. But he needed to get to the bottom of this. He needed to stop these people so that he could safely tell Mustang that he was alive. So that he could hug his little brother again. "Why is it so important for you not to kill a kid?" The man was getting less and less nervous the more he was assured that he was in control of the situation.
"You just don't," was all that Fredricks offered. His eyes told a story of something traumatic from his past, however. Ed couldn't help but wonder which kid it was that had died. What repercussions it had had for him. "Come on, we're done here. I'm dropping you off at my friend's and then we'll never meet again. If you speak of this to anyone other than my friend, you're dead, even if it won't be by my hands."
They stood up and went back to the car, Ed took a last glance at the house as he heard shots being fired. Hawkeye obviously didn't take the news well either.
"I'm so sorry," Ed whispered before he walked down the hill. "I'll make this right. Just take care of yourselves and Al for me until then."
He sat himself back inside the car. They drove in silence. Ed honestly didn't have anything else he wanted to say to this man.
When the car pulled up outside a red brick building, Ed got out of the car quickly enough and followed Fredricks inside. The man knocked on the door of one of the apartments. After a minute, a man in his early thirties opened it, rubbing his eyes. He was wearing boxers, a white undershirt and an open blue dressing gown. His red hair was was tied back in a ponytail and he had a bit of a red beard covering about a two-inch area of his chin. "Hiya, John, what's up?"
"We need to talk."
The man stood back to let them inside.
"You're not sick, are you, kid?" the stranger asked, eyeing Ed's bald head. He looked a bit worried.
"No. His pal cut it while I was asleep!" Ed said, a vein twitching at his temple while pointing at Fredricks.
The man formed his mouth into an O. He didn't seem too sharp to be honest and the apartment was small and dirty. There were pizza boxes strewn about the place and the faucet in the small kitchen was dripping.
"So, what's up?" he asked, closing the door.
Fredricks explained the gist of it and Ed could only guess that this was another one of those anti-Ishbal jerks. This wasn't going to go well. Ed would probably hit this guy within the hour the way this was going.
"Sure, I'll take him in. I hope you don't mind the couch, though, kid."
Ed groaned.
"Thanks, Greg." With that, Fredricks closed the front door and left.
The Greg guy looked at the door for about twenty seconds, then he turned about abruptly, closing his dressing gown and tying it up. He then looked at Ed again, suddenly seeming a lot more present and awake. "Sorry about that, I'll explain everything to you. Name's First Lieutenant Greg Wilson. What's yours?"
"Edward Elric." Ed was surprised by this sudden change in demeanour.
"So you're him? I'm sorry, this must be so rough on your brother. And leaving that head is just cruel to the General. Don't worry, kid, we're going to fix this. Those bastards aren't going to get away with this." The man smiled reassuringly.
"What do you mean? What's going on here? I thought you were friends with him?"
"Yes and no. I used to be. Then everything changed when that kid died and those folks took him in. Met him again at the Academy. But he wasn't the kid I knew and I'm not sure if he ever was. Come on, I'll find you something to eat and then we're going to meet some people that will be very interested in what you have to say."
Ed eyed the old boxes of pizza nervously, but the man began laughing. "Don't worry, Major. It's just a part of my cover. They've never been used once." He strolled over and opened one of them for Ed to see. It was spotless inside. "I guess after what you've been through, a nice wok will taste good, what do you say?"
Ed was still a bit unsure. Was this man serious? Had Ed really stumbled upon an actually nice officer? His stomach rumbled though and Greg laughed again.
"I guess that means yes. Don't worry, you're safe here. The only one who's being fooled is Fredricks. And sorry about your hair. That's cruel. I know how long it takes to save up." He pointed towards his own head. "We'll find you a wig, although not a blonde one. And you're probably going to need coloured contact lenses, your eyes are a dead giveaway."
"You're actually serious?" Ed asked. The man seemed caffeinated as hell to be honest and Ed thought all this had to be some cruel joke. This was all happening way too fast.
Greg walked over and put a hand on his shoulder, looking him straight in the eyes. "Deadly." The man wasn't kidding, those eyes weren't lying. Then he grinned. "Now let's get started on that wok!"