Title : Whispers of a Nightmare
Genre : Anime/Manga
Category : Full Metal Alchemist
Disclaimer : Nope, this one belongs to someone else as well.
Summary : Takes place after the incident with Nina. Something's wrong with Ed, and Al just can't quite figure out what it is. Serious situations and angst ensue.
Warnings : Angst, mild language, violence, and other issues that shall go unnamed for now. I don't want to give away too much of the plot just yet, now do I? ;)
Rating : T
Chapter 9 : A Season of Melancholy
There was a smell in the air, a putrid odor that greeted their nostrils as the smoke slowly faded to the ceiling, leaving them in its wake. But the sight-the sight was by far worse than that of the smell, even Hawkeye almost retching at it. She covered her mouth immediately, giving the Lieutenant Colonel an expectant glance.
"Sir?" she asked weakly, a handkerchief hiding her almost white lips, though it couldn't hide the slight trembling that befell her hand.
Roy Mustang was silent, taking in what lay before him in a mix of wonderment and disbelief. He knew the first thing he should do was grab the two boys from the wreckage, but something about the scene paralyzed him for a minute, his vocal cords temporarily out of order. Thoughts of Ishbal chugged through his mind, and for a split second, he felt as if he had returned there.
The air stood completely still as he took a step forward, his boots crunching on the glass of the only window that had been in the place. He took another, his legs trembling a bit. Slowly, he bent down, examining the remains of the two LaShea's, bile rising in the back of his throat.
The quiet provided him with the ability to hear the incoming of the back-up personnel he had requested, though their footfalls quickly faded into the far distance of his mind, the sound of them stopping and gasping in the doorway gently registering.
"Get the Elrics," he ordered, his voice hard but barely audible. When the soldiers continued to gape, the command not sinking in, he repeated it, albeit a little more loudly. "Did you hear what I said? Get them out of here!" he shouted, putting the edge back in his tone. He could hear them move once more, though more slowly and reluctantly than their first approach.
A small swirl of smoke was still swimming about the remains of the mother and son, originating from the middle of the carnage. Blood was scattered about, skin lying sickeningly strewn across the floor, strands of graying hair still attached. A much too skinny and wrinkled finger lay nearby, still twitching slightly, blood caked underneath its half-broken off nail.
Somehow, in some way, the two had melded together, creating a horrific combination. The picture that sat before Mustang was grotesque to say the least but quite sad at the same time. Slightly melted limbs stuck out at crude angles from the armor, the skin seemingly having the same look of plastic. It was utterly disgusting, from the smell of burnt flesh to the emerald eyes that were somehow miraculously still there, implanted in the half of the woman's face that was still left, though they showcased every bit of horror and sorrow Lydia LaShea held.
Roy couldn't help but look into those eyes, feeling as though somehow, there was still life contained in him. The rational side of his brain reminded him that from the looks of things, that couldn't be possible, and just as he was about to listen, the eyes twitched as well; quite erratically, then stopped, just as suddenly as it had started. Mustang jumped in reflex, his mouth opening in confusion, a low grunt escaping his throat.
He froze as the mouth on the woman moved, ever so slightly; even flinching when a faded moan met his ears. A flash of terror filled his eyes, and later on he would probably recall that his heart had skipped a beat; but at the present time, his brain was just to jumbled to process that information.
He removed his eyes from the sight, only to look up and find one half of the Elrics staring him dead in the eye. The thirteen year old was oddly quiet, his voice stolen as a result of all the many things that had happened that day. The boy's lips were pursed together, trying his best not to cry.
Dammit!, Mustang yelled inwardly, not wanting the poor kid to see the god-awful sight. And the thought came spiraling through his mind of what was worse, seeing this woman and her son mutated into a distorted corpse; or seeing the sight of the failed transmutation that he had performed on his mother. He decided the latter was worse, but this one couldn't be any better.
"What are you all waiting for, dammit! Get them out of here!" he snapped, pushing himself to his feet, his ears catching the low murmur from the eldest Elric brother.
"I'm sorry," the tiny voice floated past his ears, his heart clenching at the sound. But he couldn't feel sorry for him. It wasn't his place to. He was his superior officer, and the boy had to learn discipline from somewhere. And if it was his responsibility, then so be it.
The Lieutenant Colonel watched as tears ran down the blonde's cheeks, knowing that the gashes on his face had to be burning at the mix of iron and saltine in the fresh wounds. Then the thought struck his mind as to how the hell the kid and his brother had actually made it through the ordeal, making him glance at the charred transmutation circle. His onyx eyes came to the spikes, widening slightly as he realized each one had been removed from the circle, apparently in just a nick of time.
His vision slowly wavered back to the remains, something silver shining a few inches away from the mutation. Cautiously, he took a few steps toward it. Bending down to get a closer view, he saw a chain connected to a small locket, the piece of jewelry cracked open slightly. Thankful that he had gloves on, he picked up the intricate little chain, the inside of the once precious ornament revealing to him a picture of the two LaShea's with an inscription that read, "To my dearest, Kania. With love, Lydia."
The thought registered in the back of his mind that quite possibly, maybe he wasn't supposed to be seeing this, or knowing the secret the thing held inside of it. He carefully put it back where he found it and stood to his feet. Without a second thought, he picked up Al's arm and made his way to the door. Turning his back, he snapped his fingers, letting whatever other secrets the house contained die with it, knowing it was for the best. Now it would be time to pick up the pieces, something he was definitely not looking forward to. At all.
&&&&&
Two weeks later
"What do you mean you're not going to send me on any more missions?" Edward Elric's voice flew through the air, straight into the Lieutenant Colonel's already sore ears. "That's not fair and you know it!" he exclaimed, slamming his fists into Mustang's over-crowded desk, paper work flying off and falling to the floor.
"I don't see how it isn't," Mustang replied coolly, his hands folded underneath his chin, his elbows balancing on the mahogany colored wood. "What you did was completely uncalled for, and your actions reflect on your character. And I think that you're character needs to be closely monitored, instead of being given the privilege of just frolicking off somewhere in hopes of finding the stone."
"I didn't join the military to earn some pathetic desk job so I could sit on my ass all day and fiddle around! I joined the military-"
"To get you and your brother back to normal. Yes, Edward, I know the story very well judging I've heard it a million times. But after your last escapade, I feel that it would be wrong of me to send you out on another mission so soon. Besides, you're not even fully healed," he stated, raising an eyebrow at the bandages on the boy's wrist and face.
"I'm just fine, dammit! And I don't need some lazy two-bit, half-wit Colonel--excuse me, Lieutenant Colonel babysitting me!" his voice rose, growing louder and louder, enough for Hawkeye to peer into the room.
Mustang waved her away, trying not to let the boy crawl underneath his skin as he had become so good at as of late. But he knew it would more than likely be inevitable, feeling the muscles in his legs start to twitch.
"You'll be assigned to cases here in Central for the time being, and that's final. You're excused," Mustang stated with a wave of the hand, his other reluctantly finding its way to the pile of paperwork that was starting to consume his much cherished desk.
The boy stood there with a look of fierce determination and anger fighting a battle over his features, the anger starting to edge its way ahead. "I will not just stand around like an idiot and let this go! That woman had a genuine stone! An authentic Philosopher's Stone, and I saw what it did to her! I need to know where it came from! And who the doctor was that gave it to her! If I can just find out his name, then just maybe…" his voice trailed off, the fierce determination expression taking the lead.
"How many times do I have to repeat it, Edward? You're staying here, and that's final!" the Lieutenant Colonel's voice finally raised in volume, just the thought of Edward pushing the right button pissing him off even more.
"But you said-"
"I said military first, the stone second and you know that! You agreed to those terms, Edward, or have you become a liar? Or is it quite possible that you already are one?" he suggested, his deep voice wallowing in sarcasm. He was standing now, both hands out in front of him, flat against the desktop.
"I'm the liar?" Edward threatened, an air of mischief in his tone. "I think it's the other way around Colonel Hypocrite!" he exclaimed, watery saltine rushing to his tear ducts. "We were so close…," he whispered, his voice shaking slightly. "And you just want to take it away! What, are you jealous or something? Feeling bad because a twelve year old can do a better job than you?" he yelled, his hands balled into fists at his sides.
That did it.
"A better job than me, huh?" he questioned, more to himself than Edward. "You almost got yourself killed back there! You and your brother!" he shouted, unable to control the volume of his voice. He walked over to the miniature time bomb, his onyx eyes dancing wildly. "You deliberately disobeyed my orders and took your own initiative, leading you and Alphonse into a situation that you couldn't get out of! You put the both of you at risk and almost became some insane woman's son! Did you think that that was just a child's drawing on the floor underneath you?"
"No-"
"No, of course it wasn't! It was one of the most intricate arrays that I've ever laid eyes on and you managed to get yourself right in the middle of it!" the tirade of words continued to tumble out of the Lieutenant Colonel's mouth, anger flashing madly through his eyes. "And if it wasn't for your brother getting you out of those chains, then you would have been a part of that mess too!"
Edward stood there in silence, unable to meet the piercing gaze his superior officer was giving him. He could feel his lips start to quiver, the outcry of tears just milliseconds away. The twelve year old tried his best to steady himself, but the more he tried, the worse it got. Emotions were streaming through his blood system faster than he could distinguish them, his eyes echoing its attempts. His jaw was clamped shut, his teeth grinding furiously against one another.
"You will report to my office tomorrow morning at ten o'clock sharp to receive your next case. I expect you to be on time and if you're not--well, we'll just have to wait and see, won't we?" he queried, a slight but noticeable smirk spreading across his features, his voice returned to its normal volume.
The boy said nothing, still couldn't even look the man in the eyes. His golden orbs burned holes into the man's chest, and he turned, without a nod or any type of acknowledgement, and went for the door. Mustang could see the tear hit the floor before the boy made it out of his sight, hearing his footsteps break out into a run a few seconds later. He shook his head, knowing that he had been harsh, but telling himself the kid had to grow up one of these days. And unfortunately, he was the one stuck with the duty, much to his dismay. He sat down at the desk, a blank stare falling upon the skyscrapers of papers.
&&&&&
His heavy black boots pounded on the wooden floors, descending down each flight of steps in a hurry, almost tumbling down a few due to his short strides and automail. He still wasn't quite used to it yet, and it showed too.
Edward was out of breath by the time he had made it down the last flight of steps and out into the brisk fall air. The sky held a grayish color that apparently was going to stick around for quite awhile, as it had a tendency to do. He shivered, recalling that his red jacket was lying in the dorm room he and Al shared on the third floor of HQ.
He shook his head, knowing that he truly didn't want to go anywhere, but he had to get out of there. If he had stayed any longer, the Lieutenant Colonel would have seen his tear-streaked face, and how seemingly pathetic and childish he looked, and he in no way, shape or form wanted that. He wanted to look strong and capable, exactly the opposite of what he was at the current moment.
His golden bangs drifted into his sullen face, hiding the paleness his skin had started to possess. In the past two weeks, he'd been in and out of the infirmary for one thing or another, and had even been forced to stay there the first two days he came back, against his will, of course. Mustang still hadn't even allowed him back into his office until that very day, which pissed him off all the more. And now he was being told he couldn't even leave the city? He had too many things to do to actually listen to that know-it-all Mustang.
He could feel the tears continue to slide down his cheeks, angrily wiping them away with his automail hand, it brushing against the scratches that had just started fading to scars. He took in an involuntary gulp of air, his lungs hungrily consuming it. The twelve year old was more than embarrassed standing in front of the military's headquarters with a red and tear-stained face, but for some reason, his legs refused to listen to him, his brain whisking him away to another time.
His fingers gently ran down his cheek bone, which had become more prominent as well in the time since his encounter with the LaShea's. The scars were turning from the dark red color of blood, to a faded pink, more than likely becoming permanent, just not as noticeable. He could feel his hand start to shake as pictures came flooding back into his vision, especially those of the woman's bright emerald green eyes, and that too perfect grin. But then, the picture changed, transmuted into that of a flesh and metal blob with arms and legs sticking out of odd places and blood all over the place.
The smell hit him faster than he could stop it, the rancid odor burning his lungs and electrocuting his nostrils. It was the smell of charred flesh and burnt metal. He immediately doubled over, the tea he'd consumed before going into Mustang's office spilling out of his mouth and onto the concrete below. He spit up as much of the bile he could, reluctantly swallowing the taste back down.
He stood up slowly but dizziness still conquered his head, causing him to stumble back against the nearest wall for support. His whole body was trembling; shaking. His vision swam before his eyes, colors swirling around him like a tornado. He leaned back, letting the chilly air brush against his clammy skin. He tried to recall the last thing he had ate, a piece of bread coming to mind. And that was a few days ago…
His stomach clenched, apparently from being empty for so long. He let a quiet gasp, his hand immediately flying to the pained area. He stayed in that position for a good fifteen minutes, trying to ignore the few curious stares that were thrown his way. Hesitantly, he stood to his feet, his legs still shaking slightly beneath him.
"Hey, Edward, what are you doing down there?" a familiar voice met his ears.
The blonde turned slowly, his eyes meeting those of Lieutenant Maes Hughes. His brow narrowed a bit, hoping that the hazel eyed man wouldn't pry any further than a casual "Oh. Okay, bye then," and be on his way. But knowing his luck, it wouldn't end with just that. "Just getting some air. It gets kind of stuffy in there, you know?" he replied, a fake grin plastered on his face, the thought of Please just go away, floating through his head.
"Yeah, happens to me all the time. But this usually cheers me right up," he said brightening, holding out a picture of his daughter, his tone raising higher. "Isn't she just the cutest thing you've ever seen? In fact, just the other day, she sat up by herself for the first time, and went the entire night without even so much as a peep. I swear she's an angel," he gushed, the picture clenched tightly in his hands, a wide grin bringing up the corners of his mouth. Within a few minutes, the expression faded, turning serious once again. "You know, Edward, if you ever need to talk, I'm here. If there's something bothering you-"
"I'm fine," the twelve year old interjected, more harshly than he intended. "I'm sorry," he apologized, his head hanging, strands of golden hair hanging in his face. His stomach started to ache again, a faint grimace making its way onto his features.
Hughes stood there for a moment, sliding his hands causally into his pockets, a look of concern hidden behind his eyes. "So he told you the bad news?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, giving the blonde a sideways glance.
Edward's brow narrowed even more, his heart starting to race at just the thought of the Lieutenant Colonel. He was silent, a pout crossing his lips. He folded his arms across his chest, the pain in his stomach growing.
"He has his reasons, Ed. And he's not doing it to punish you," he stated in a knowingly tone, his gaze resting on the hot-headed kid, the concern starting to appear.
"Then what's he doing it for?" the exclamation poured from the boy's lips, his jaw clenching. "Just to piss me off? Because if that was his mission, he succeeded," he muttered, admitting defeat, a scowl coming over his face.
A faint smile touched the Lieutenant's lips, holding in a laugh. "Trust me, that's not one of his reasons," he answered, looking down at the angry young man. His brow narrowed as well, worry snaking its way through his veins. "How about we go grab something to eat? I'm starving and it's way past lunch," he stated, trying to lighten the mood. His eyes fell upon the boy's hollowing face and the dark circles under his eyes, then slipped to the over shirt that seemed much larger on him that it had before.
"I'm not really hungry," he replied, his gaze drifting to the park across the street. The wind was rushing through the trees, the sound making its way to his ears. At that moment, he realized why he had come out there in the first place, letting his brow ease and a casualness take over his tone. "In fact, I think I'm gonna go for a walk," he stated, starting to walk away.
Maes felt his heart sink, knowing obviously something was troubling the boy. But he knew better than to press the matter. The kid was stubborn, and the more he'd pry, the less information he'd get. He knew how the game ran, after all, it was part of his job. "Alright, well, just remember what I said," he smiled, placing a hand on Edward's bony shoulder, his heart falling downcast. "Oh, I almost forgot. Gracia's birthday is tomorrow and I'm throwing a party, inviting a bunch of people from here. Would you and Al like to come?" he asked with his trademark smile.
Edward stopped, knowing he couldn't say no. "Um, yeah, sure, what time?" His voice was tired, thin, and obviously weary. He held the smile in place, knowing that it could slip off at any second.
"Five o'clock. Don't be late," he grinned, hating the fake smile that pursued his lips. "Bye now," he waved, knowing a little talk with Roy would come to pass in the near future.
Edward watched him disappear through the main doors, relief easing through his tense body. The wind rushed passed him once again, the urge to run hitting his nerves. Thoughts of Al traveled through his brain, knowing that he was hidden safely away in the library with books to keep him company for the rest of the afternoon. Besides, he didn't expect Ed to be back so soon, thinking his older brother was in for a full day of work, but judging that that wasn't the case anymore…
Just for a little while. And I could use the exercise…
He pushed himself forward, not even bothering to jog. The twelve year old broke out into a full run, his hair sailing behind him. Memories of youth started to play through his mind, images of he, Al, and Winry flashing vividly in his eyes. Heaviness weighed on his heart, for he knew that no matter how badly he wanted to return to that time, it would never happen.
He missed his brother. His whole brother. Gone were the days of childish pranks and river runs. There were no more home cooked meals, no more laughing and giggling about townspeople or what they learned in school. There were no more games to played, or rainy days filled with many a cup of hot cocoa.
All this pushed him to go faster and harder. He could almost hear his blood traveling through his veins, pumping his heart, forcing it to beat faster and faster. He could hear it pounding in his ears, letting him know that he was still very much alive and kicking, or running for that matter.
The images became his fuel. They projected him, his legs moving so fast he was sure to fall flat on his face at any second. But he didn't, thankfully. He continued, feeling the sweat build on his face and stream down his cheeks, then feel the breeze blow past and cool him down.
He didn't know how far he'd ran until he reached the outskirts of Central, farm houses and worn train tracks coming into view. He stopped suddenly, realizing he'd gone a bit too far.
"Great," he mumbled breathlessly, bending over with his hands on his knees, trying desperately to catch his breath. "If Lieutenant Colonel Jackass catches me out here, I'm as good as dead."
The cool wind whirled around him, Al's voice of "Brother, you're going to get sick. You remember the last time, don't you? And the time before that?"
He immediately felt bad once again, already recalling how awful he had felt when he realized Al's arm had been knocked off. Sure, he'd been able to fix it, but just knowing that his little brother had gotten himself into a position where he could have gotten killed hit him like a ton of bricks.
He wasn't doing his job as a big brother. Even if Al was slightly larger than him, being a six foot-plus tall suit of armor and all, he still wasn't taking care of him as he'd promised. His heart continued to spiral as more and more guilt was placed on top of it.
And he had been so close, his fingers almost touching it. He saw the red light it gave off, he could feel its power however faint it might have been, but it was still there and that was all that mattered. He'd been so damned close to getting Al his body back; and he'd lost it, just like that, the opportunity was stolen from him and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.
But, maybe there was. Maybe, just maybe…Could he get away with it though? Was there a chance he and Al could sneak away from Central undetected? If he wanted the stone that badly, it would just be another risk he'd have to take. Especially if it meant getting his little brother back his body. And making some type of atonement for the sins he had committed and the promises he had broken.
All those faces that had been haunting him swam across his vision, their voices blending together, creating the faintest trace of a nightmare. He just hadn't gone to sleep yet.
Author's note : Not really much action, at least it wasn't a cliff, right? I really want to thank each and every one of you again for your support and reviews. I think I reread them just about every day. So I'd just like to thank Lyemi, Aemilia Rose, Ark, Roy-Fan-33, JChrys, Legendary Chimera, marufu-chan, Akamori-Chan, Kuropuu, vampirelf, BlackFire-Dog, TreeStar, TO, Child of a Pineapple, Harryswoman, WrathsChibi, agent000, and every single one of you who has me on an alert or has left a review for previous chapters. Seriously, thank you guys so much for all of your kind words.
Hopefully, this chapter will suffice. And the Ed-angst will kick into utterly full gear, and there will be plenty more action. So, let me know. Good, bad? Whichever.
P.S. If the locket part confused you, PM me or ask in a review and I'll send a response.
Haunted Obsidian