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 18 : Stranger in Comparison
His footsteps echoed graciously off the walls, his stare set on one thing and one thing only, the invisible image of Edward Elric hanging eerily before him. He could see those golden orbs, haunting him from the inside out. They were filled with a pain so deep, he could almost swear he heard the boy crying, felt the tears staining his rough hands, catching them as they befell the child's eyes.
His brow narrowed, his onyx eyes flashing with anger, trying to comprehend the information that was given to him. It just didn't sound right, Full Metal transforming the track like that? His jaw clenched at the thought, knowing the boy wouldn't be that careless or destructive, especially if innocent lives were involved. Though the kid had his naïve, selfish ways sometimes, in the end, whatever he was doing was for someone else; and the idea of him having something to do with the death of twelve people just didn't set right in the Lieutenant Colonel's stomach.
He grimaced as though he actually felt pain, but the gesture was merely one out of pure frustration, an emotion he hadn't felt in quite some time. He grit his teeth as he turned around, making another unseen line on the hardwood floor. His heavy military issued boots stepped across the floor, sounding as though he were a soldier marching off to war. Perfectly in sync, yet the hesitance was there, hidden in between his footfalls.
His jet black hair gleamed in the moonlight that was creeping through the curtains, the pale rays casting an eerie glow against his skin, making it appear even more ghostly than it had without the moon's projected beauty. Fine lines were steadily forming across his forehead, his brow scrunched in thought.
This whole bit just wasn't making much sense to his complicated way of thinking. It had been two days since Hughes had informed him of the account, supposedly witnessed by a Miss Lane who had been a passenger on the train that night. And though it seemed strange enough, the woman was able to give a description of Edward, no matter how unclear it was. The fact of the matter was she had seen his red coat, followed by blue light, and then the derailment.
But why?
For the first time in a long while, Lieutenant Colonel Roy Mustang was puzzled, confused beyond belief. The pieces just didn't fit. And to make matters even worse was the problem of the Elric brothers still not arriving in Kiase, which could only mean trouble. Even if they had been walking, they still should have made it there by now, unless other distractions arose.
"Sir?"
His footsteps paused for the moment, knowing the woman had been watching him as he journeyed to and fro, back and forth across the small inn room. It took a moment for the single word to parade its way through his thoughts, but finally, it hit a nerve in his brain, sending a message to his head, telling it to turn towards her or at least show some form of acknowledgment. He looked up, his jet black bangs hanging invitingly in his face.
"Should we go looking for them?" the simple question parted the First Lieutenant's lips, her cinnamon colored eyes watching his every move, never once looking away. She watched as his brow furrowed a bit more, both knowing they couldn't hold off curious questions from the Fuhrer much longer.
"Not yet, and there's the possibility that if we did, they could just as easily enter the town as we're leaving it," he answered, his gaze still not meeting hers. It lingered on the far corner for a moment before returning to the floor, his footsteps continuing once more.
"Should we request backup?" another suggestion came, she trying her hardest to come up with some type of feasible plan so the man would stop trying to give himself a heart attack over the situation. No matter how many times she saw that cool and collected mask, she knew worry hid behind it.
He shook his head at the proposal, a reason following. "It would look too suspicious. We're just supposed to be apprehending some two-bit serial killers, remember?" he asked, lifting his head up ever so slightly, gazing at her through his curtain of obsidian locks. "Although it could be possible," he mumbled, his head bowing again in contemplation, an ungloved hand going up to his chin.
"Perhaps we could tell him about our suspicions concerning the town," the blonde propositioned. "Ask for a little more time, sir?" Hawkeye offered, keeping her posture as she shifted her weight from one foot to the other, still assuming her professional guard.
"I may be able to stall for another few days, just on the account that we still haven't been able to find the two men, of course; but then again, I don't want to appear incompetent either," he stated, his military jacket thrown askew on the chair setting a few feet away from him, his light blue undershirt slightly untucked as well.
"Sir, how are we going to explain not having the men when we return to Central?" the First Lieutenant inquired curiously, one eyebrow raised, her hands clasped behind her back.
"We had to kill them," he answered casually, as though it were an every day circumstance. "They refused to come with us, which if we were actually in that situation, that wouldn't be too far from the truth. They opened fire on us, and we had no choice but to execute them, which would have happened had they been taken back to Central anyway." All this he said and she watched, only beginning to understand the complicated and diverse mind of her superior.
"That may be easy enough, but what about the bodies? Wouldn't the Fuhrer request that the bodies be taken back to Central for evidence purposes?" She held her gaze, knowing the man had an answer for any question she might throw at him, inwardly marveling at his know-it-all type demeanor. She watched as a smirk slowly formed on his face, though she knew his mind was still on the Elric brothers and their safety.
"I am the Flame Alchemist, aren't I?" he queried, a smug grin crossing his lips. "I can't help it if they were reduced to a pile of ashes," he commented, the grin continuing to grace her gaze until he turned back around, pacing off in the opposite direction.
"True, sir," she nodded in understanding, her eyes slowly drifting towards the window, the moon's graceful rays slowly disappearing behind fresh clouds that had rolled in from the West, the night sky taking on a shade of light grey, overcast abound. "Where do you suppose the boys are?" the question seemingly came from out of nowhere, though she knew that was the top priority of the Lieutenant Colonel.
He shook his head, not a trace of the smile left on his impatient visage. "Anything's possible with those two," he replied, his voice lowering a bit, the woman ultimately knowing what was going to come out of this late night conversation. She watched as he paced back towards her, his stare on the floor once more. He stopped short, picking up the jacket and slipping it on, a taste for alcohol calling out to his lips. "Don't wait up," he stated before turning back around, his hardened gaze meeting hers before turning towards the door.
"Sir?" The word was more of a reminder than a question, forcing the man to look back at her once more, the closing of the door lingering on his fingertips. His onyx eyes held a slight gleam as he saw that she was holding up his gloves, the corners of his lips turning up ever so slightly.
"And what makes you think I'll need those?" he asked nonchalantly, raising an eyebrow at the caring gesture.
She continued to stare at him for a moment, held speechless by the too few stray rays of moonlight that had managed to break through the clouds' prison, they casting an eerie radiance upon the man, forcing life into those obsidian eyes. "You never know when you might need them, sir. Especially with the disdain this town holds for the military," she answered as prompt as possibly, pushing back any sort of misgiving she held whatsoever.
His lips turned up more, he slowly walking back over to her and gently taking them from her faint grasp. Without a word or intelligent remark, he turned and made his way out of the room, closing the door behind him, inwardly knowing she'd more than likely be awake when he got back.
The streets were as desolate as ever as he made his way out of the inn, the street lamps guiding his way to the tavern that held a seat for him at the bar, military or not. He involuntarily shivered, the chill of the night getting the better of him. He watched as his breath spiraled from his lips, his gaze turning towards the night sky, droplets of rain making their way down from the heavens and upon the streets.
It was times like this when he felt the loneliest. As sad or as pathetic as it sounded, it was true. His footsteps echoed behind him, a constant reminder of the fact that it would more than likely remain that way, even with Hughes constant badgering of trying to "find himself a good wife". A small but noticeable smile graced his lips at thought of his best friend, wishing that the man had accompanied them instead, at least giving him someone to talk to as he drowned himself in the poison he was about to consume.
He ran a hand through his jet black locks before he entered the dim establishment, knowing there was a bottle of scotch with his name on it in there somewhere. The onyx eyed man took a quick glance around the place, surveying his surroundings before he settled in. Seeing that there were only three people in the place, more than likely due to the late hour, he took a seat at the bar, his hardened stare slowly meeting the bartender's, taking note that it wasn't the same man as from before.
"What'll you have?" the young man asked, appearing to be around the age of thirty or so. He was tall and thin, his short brown hair cropped and styled quite neatly for someone of his occupation, or location. He paid no attention to the uniform Mustang wore, which quite surprised the Lieutenant Colonel.
"Scotch on the rocks," Mustang replied simply, preparing to drink enough alcohol for both he and the missing Hughes. He watched as the slightly older man filled the glass generously, carefully sliding it over to the military man's awaiting hand. It was gone in one gulp, Roy already pushing it back for a refill.
"Rough night?" the bartender asked casually, raising an eyebrow at the man's urgency to swim in the alcoholic substance. He filled the glass once more, placing it in front of the Lieutenant Colonel again, watching carefully as the man accepted the drink, though this time, he didn't swallow it down as if it were a shot. This time, he held the tumbler in his hands, letting the chill of the glass make its way through to his fingertips, reminding him that he indeed was going to get intoxicated tonight.
"You could say that," Mustang finally replied, taking a sip from the inebriating substance, letting it numb his throat as it ran down his esophagus and eventually settled in his bloodstream. Images of the dream he had two days previous danced before his obsidian eyes, making the want for the alcohol become even stronger. As much as he ran it through his mind, the variable in that dream and ones he observed before just didn't make sense. Why, all of a sudden, would there be a difference? Perhaps, yes, inwardly, he was silently afraid that he might not see those two boys again, fate playing with his head.
Though he knew they were strong, and quite resilient, that didn't stop them from thinking they were invincible, as Edward demonstrated so beautifully. He took another taste from the glass, letting the liquid numb his tongue before he swallowed it. The aftertaste burned slightly, but he took it as it came, telling himself that before long, he wouldn't be feeling much of anything except dizziness and possibly nausea.
Golden eyes drifted before his, haunting him in every way possible. His brow narrowed as the vision etched itself across his soul, burning a permanent image in his brain. The pain that they held were in no comparison to his, but he felt not one ounce of pity for the boy. The child knew fully well what he had done, though the possible aftereffects had been blocked out by his naiveté and want to get his mother back. All this led the boy to where he was now, and the onyx eyed man knew he was just another step in the road leading the boy to his final destination. He rolled his eyes, taking another drink, leaving the glass empty once more.
"Care to talk about it?" the young man behind the bar asked in a tone that only bartenders used when trying to put on the superficial act of caring.
Mustang grunted in response, his eyes focused on the filling glass in front of him. He could feel the substance slowly taking control of his body, his muscles falling slack underneath the crisp uniform. But for some reason, he knew he couldn't let his guard down in this place. His brow narrowed, images of the last time he had been there coming to mind. It was hard to trust the mind of a child, but perhaps, just perhaps, Edward had been right. Maybe there was the possibility that there was more to the town that met the eye.
"Ha, who am I kidding?" the half-drunken mumble befell his lips, his eyes starting to glaze over. He couldn't believe he was actually humoring the kid, and the boy wasn't even there. Roy shook his head, letting the alcohol run in between his lips and down his throat once more, knowing he'd better be getting back to the inn soon, though maybe one more drink couldn't hurt. Three more glasses later, he decided it was time to go.
He took his last sip then stood up carefully, his balance still faltering. He swayed a bit as he laid down some money, then made his way to the door, trying his best not to fall flat on his face. If he had had the luxury of being back at Central, he wouldn't be facing the possible public embarrassment that was trying to make an appearance. Instead, he would have been able to pass out at his desk as he did so many times before.
As soon as he exited the place, someone grabbed his arm, the sudden impulse to turn them to ashes exhilarating his nerves. He felt his fingers push together, too intoxicated to realize he hadn't even bothered to put on the gloves Hawkeye had reminded him of earlier. He tensed up, readying for hand to hand combat when a familiar voice broke through his plane of dizziness.
"Whoa, I see you had a little without me, huh?" Hughes asked, a wide grin spread across his lips. Upon seeing the vein throbbing in the other man's forehead, he relaxed his grip, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You couldn't have waited just five more minutes?" he teased, raising a sarcastic eyebrow, the smile still in place.
"It's not as if I knew you were coming," Mustang replied, his pupils dilating before the other man. He swayed once more, Maes placing his arm around the man's shoulder in an effort to keep him standing. "So, what brings you to this positively gorgeous place, hmm?" the Lieutenant Colonel asked, a drunken smile faintly turning up the corners of his lips.
"Seeing as you are the way you are," Hughes started, his tone going into serious mode as he gave the man a once-over. "I'll leave that unexplained until the morning. But all I can say is we're dealing with something dangerous here, Roy." He paused, his hazel eyes darting around them as they started to walk, inwardly knowing he could never be cautious enough. "Come on, we'd better get you back to your room before I have to carry you back there," he muttered, wishing he'd had a share of the alcohol too.
Upon hearing the word dangerous, the Lieutenant Colonel's eyebrow furrowed, his bowed head straightening up slightly. "I'm not too drunk to be able to understand the human tongue, Hughes, so whatever it is you have to tell me, you can go ahead and do it now. I'm listening," he finished, his deep pools of obsidian making a stake in the other man's eyes.
Maes studied the intoxicated man for a moment, mentally trying to decide whether or not to even try to explain the things he had found out since leaving the accident site. As soon as he was about to open his mouth, the sound of fast approaching footsteps befell his ear, a silhouette coming into view; and as it gained depth, the Major could see something gleaming in its hand, aimed directly at the two military men.
&&&&&
The darkness was comforting in an odd way; relaxing. It surrounded him, his body floating in the quiet abyss, its invisible waves gently lapping at his skin. The twelve year old couldn't remember the last time he had felt so at ease, so calm. It had been quite awhile. So he took it all in, thankful that the pain he had felt earlier had subsided for the time being.
The silence that had been drifting over him stopped suddenly, interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing. It was distant but near, the curiosity of who it was getting the better of the youth. Reluctantly, he let the river of velvet fade away, a bright blue sky painted with white, puffy clouds floating into view before him. A cool breeze blew gently across his skin, so light, it almost went unnoticed, but he felt it, no matter how faint its touch was.
His golden eyed gaze slowly fell to his level, a field of wildflowers set out before him. His lids shut on him momentarily, urging him to take in the scent that faintly wafted from the untamed flowers, it gently teasing his nostrils. A faint smile tugged at his lips, this place feeling so strangely familiar.
The colorful distractions held his interest for a brief moment, but before long, the faint sound of the phone ringing caught his attention once more, his footfalls slowly moving in its direction. It felt like it was taking him forever to finally get through the field, it seemingly stretching on for miles. The boy became slightly annoyed at this fact, knowing that the ringing phone needed to be answered, and he'd have to be the one to do it because apparently no one else in this place had the time to do so.
He followed the dirt path that started at the edge of the field, looking ahead to see what awaited him at the end of it, though he could see nothing but the sky, darkening above him the further along he went. He shivered, the cool breeze that had felt so inviting earlier turning much colder and bitter. He folded his arms in attempt to keep warm, pulling his black over shirt closer to his body, but the chill snaked its way underneath his clothing and right through his skin. He could hear his teeth chattering faintly, but the phone still called out to him, beckoning the boy with its ring.
The sky grew more violent as he continued down the path, it winding up a hill, the area growing more and more familiar to his senses. He passed a house that he hadn't noticed before, its curtains drawn and the welcome sign on the door cracked in half, looking as though if it took one more gust of wind, surely it would blow away. The place looked like it had been deserted for awhile. But the ringing phone was not coming from there, so he continued on, intent in finding its origin.
Another house came into view as he went further up the hill, it standing almost at the top. Oddly enough, he was drawn to this one, for unlike the other one, its curtains were wide open, a warm fire waiting invitingly inside. He peered through the windows, taking note that the fireplace was the only thing in the giant house. Bare walls caught his inquisitive golden orbs, as well as the lack of furniture it contained. There were no signs of life except for the fire, which he so badly wanted to be by. The thought of just going in there to get warm for a minute swam through his mind, his body reminding him that it was getting even colder than before.
Hesitantly, he made his way over to the door, no decorations of any sort gracing it. It was painted a steel grey which he found odd for a front door, but nonetheless tried the red doorknob, only to find out that it was indeed, locked. His brow narrowed, the want to be warm and close to the fire returning to his clouded mind. He tried once more, pulling on it harder and harder, but to his dismay, it would not open, no matter how much strength he put into it. Disappointed, he stepped away from the door and made his way down the front steps, saddened that he couldn't get in.
The blonde folded his arms once more, knowing it was best to continue down the path, the insistent phone still waiting for him. He glanced up at the sky, it now a sickening shade of green, bolts of lightning colliding above in a heavenly array of colors. Thunder boomed loudly in his ears, the ground shaking in response. The wind gusted around him, the ability to walk becoming more difficult with each step.
Finally, he made it up over the hill, soaking wet and drenched to the bone. The other side was just as stormy and violent if not more than the one he had just come from. The lightning continued to clash in the sky, a bolt rattling the ground next to him, nearly scaring the hell out of him. His first instinct was to run, and so he did, his slender legs taking him as fast as they could down the hill. Unfortunately for him, it was too steep and wet, his over-sized boots slipping on the surface, sending him down much faster than he had originally anticipated.
He landed at the bottom with a thump, almost too tired to push himself up. And even though he'd gotten closer to it, the ringing grew more faint. But he still heard it, giving him the motivation to get up. Swaying, he stood to his feet, dirt, mud and grass polluting his clothes. Ignoring the fact of how roughed up he was, he looked forward, his heart stopping at what he saw.
A house was burning across the wide open field, and as he got closer to it, he knew it to be the one he and his brother had spent many years playing at. It was the Rockbell's. His golden orbs widened in horror as the realization hit him. Ignoring the aches and pains that were filtering throughout his system, he pushed himself forward, propelling his legs towards the sweltering blaze.
He finally found his voice, a cry of, "Winry!" escaping his terrified lips. He continued to slip and stumble as he made his way across the field, glancing towards the sky for a split second only to see 3 OCT 10 lighting up the violent-looking horizon. A horrified cry parted his lips as he propelled himself faster, taking the steps up to the house two at a time. "Winry!" he cried again as he entered the house/automail shop, only to find the place empty and eerily silent. There was no smoke filling his lungs nor flames bursting from the walls. It was completely quiet, as though everything were in fact, normal.
He was just about to call out for them again when he heard the phone, causing the boy to jerk in its direction. His eyes widened slightly, inwardly knowing no one else was in the house. Apprehensively, he forced his legs to take him over to the apparatus, his hand shaking as he cautiously reached for the receiver, carefully taking it off the hook.
"Hello?" he asked, his voice echoing throughout the house. The other end was silent, forcing him to once again repeat his greeting, albeit more loudly. "Hello?" Static greeted him for a moment, followed by a voice, one he had no trouble deciphering.
"Edward? Edward is that you?"
He struggled to make his vocal chords work, they finally emitting sound. "Mom?" he asked, his voice quavering. "Mom?" he repeated, his chest rising and falling quickly at the sound of her voice, sounding so…alive.
"Edward? It's time to come home. Dinner's almost ready," she said innocently, as though everything were alright.
The boy immediately burst into tears, unable to control the rivers of saltine that were now flooding down his cheeks. He tried to speak, but the words were just mere mumbles and distorted cries.
"Edward? What's wrong? Is something wrong with your brother? Edward?" she questioned, sounding worried. "What's wrong?"
"You're-you're dead!" he blurted out, gripping the phone with all of his strength, ashamed of the tears that were continuing to color his pale cheeks. "You're dead…" his voice trailed off, sobs escaping his hoarse throat.
"Edward, what are you talking about? Are you feeling okay?" the woman's voice ran across the line, directly into his eardrum and straight to his brain. "Honey, I think it's time you should come home…"
The boy stood deathly still, the voice on the other end sounding as though it were coming from right beside him now. His eyes widened as his breath got caught in his throat, a horrible wheezing noise touching his ears. His mouth formed the word "no" though no sound departed from his lips. He turned slowly, his distraught golden orbs falling on the remains of his mother. He could feel a cry escape his throat, though he was frozen in horror at the sight of her.
Gray strands of spaghetti-stringed hair fell just past her bony shoulders, dead flesh hanging off of it in clumps. Dull, lifeless green eyes burned into his, fear rising within his soul. A skeletal face with some of its facial muscles and tendons dangling from it met his, crystalline tears running down her cheeks. The dress that the woman was buried in was rotted, holes decorating it thoroughly, giving way for the poor boy's eyes to see the decaying flesh that lay underneath of it. He watched in horror as she moved closer to him, her bones creaking and grinding with every step.
"Edward…" the voice filtered through the air and straight into his soul. The receiver fell to the floor with a loud thumping noise, his hand unable to stop the shaking that was wracking it from the inside out. "What's wrong, Edward? It's me…your mother…Don't you remember me, or have you forgotten what's become of the woman you couldn't save?" she asked, moving steadily towards him, forcing the boy to back up, straight into a wall.
"Please," he whispered, tears streaming down his face as well, his legs slowly giving out on him. "Please, just go away," he breathed, his chest moving in and out faster and faster.
"But I have been away, Edward. It's been two years, and all this time I've been waiting, waiting for you to come back and retrieve me from this darkness that has consumed my soul. Why haven't you come back, Edward? Why?" she questioned, reaching a skeletal hand out to him. "I've been waiting all this time…It's so cold, Edward, so cold, and lonely…Why don't you join me?" she screeched suddenly, the boy feeling her hand grab a hold of him, cutting into his flesh.
It was his own screaming that woke him.
The blonde sat up straight with a gasp, a white blanket falling off him and flowing to the floor. He looked around, realizing he was inside a room, more than likely a doctor's judging by the different medical instruments that decorated the walls. Without thinking, a name flew out of his mouth, quite loudly at that.
"Al! Alphonse!" he yelled, jumping down off the make-shift bed, only to fall flat on his face, his equilibrium more than a little off. With a frustrated grunt, he pushed himself up off the floor, dizziness still mocking his sense of balance. "Al!" he tried again, hobbling to the door, it opening before his hand could even touch the knob. He looked up, relieved to see his brother standing in front of him, steel suit and all.
"Relax, Brother. It's okay," Al couldn't help but laugh a little at the expression on his older brother's face, silently thankful that the twelve year old was finally awake after slipping in and out of consciousness for the past two days.
"Where are we?" Edward immediately questioned, the smell of ammonia hitting his nose. The disdain he held for hospitals was almost as bad as the disdain he held for milk, though the latter outweighed the former slightly. His brow furrowed as he looked around, preparing himself for the outburst that was about to befall his own lips.
"Calm down, Ed. We're at a doctor's office," his little brother explained, looking down at the blonde. Immediately, the younger boy could see the elder one's eyes flare up, as though lit by an invisible flame. "Before you go crazy, I thought I'd let you know that it's been two days since you've been fully awake, so you might want to sit back down," Al stated, guiding the smaller one back towards the make-shift bed.
"I don't know why we have to stay here any longer. I'm perfectly fi-" the boy's words were cut off as he tripped over the forgotten blanket that lay on the floor.
"I can tell," Alphonse politely interjected with an amused tone, immediately helping the smaller boy up off the floor and back onto the bed. "We arrived in town late last night, and I was lucky enough to run into the doctor that runs this office. He was just about to close up when I told him about you and he offered to look at you. Your leg got infected along the way here. He said that's why you had such a high fever and couldn't remain conscious," the eleven year old divulged the information as quickly as he could, trying his best to keep the other boy calm. "Your fever must have broke. How do you feel?" he asked, inwardly wishing he could touch his brother's forehead, just to see if he was still burning up or not.
"Fine. So…let's go," the older boy tried so desperately to stand back up once again, only to get pushed gently back down by his younger, bigger brother.
"Uh uh, I don't think so, Ed. You at least have to stay here until he comes back. He said he had a house call, and he'd be back as soon as he could. And when you woke up, he wanted to make sure you were okay," he added, sitting down in the chair that was placed beside the bed.
A pout formed on the older one's mouth, his lips curling slightly. He glanced down at his leg only to find he was in his blue boxers, his right leg wrapped up nice and tight, and quite stiff at that. He shifted slightly on the uncomfortable bed, his hyperactivity getting the better of him. A noticeable shiver shook his shoulders, he crossing his arms in response.
Alphonse looked down at him, knowing the boy was too stubborn to admit his weakness. Without a word, the younger boy picked up the discarded blanket and wrapped it around the twelve year old's shoulders, seeing the goosebumps that had formed on his brother's pale skin.
"Where are my clothes?" Ed inquired, glancing around the room, growing antsy once more even though his teeth were chattering.
"Ed…lie down, okay? The doctor's just going to take them right back off when he examines you so there really isn't a point now, is there?" Alphonse tried to reason, immediately feeling bad at the look on the smaller boy's face. "What? What's wrong, Brother?" he asked, his voice laced with innocence. "Did I…do something?" He knew his brother was self-conscious, he just hadn't thought it had gotten so bad that Edward was like that in front of him now too.
"I just want to get out of here," the blonde grumbled, glancing around the room. "Where are we anyways?" he asked, his brow narrowed in frustration, not planning on this detour they had so nicely gotten on the path of.
"Landon," the younger boy replied, pulling Ed's suitcase out from underneath the bed. "We're pretty close to Kiase," he stated as he pulled out his older brother's black undershirt and pants. "I think the doctor said that its only another ten kilometers to the west, so we should get there as soon as you're well," the eleven year old added, handing the clothes to his older brother.
"What are you talking about? I am well! I'm fine, Al! And you talk about me worrying too much," he said in his familiar cynical tone as he slowly stood to his feet after slipping on his undershirt.
Upon seeing how hard of a time the older boy was having with his balance, Alphonse held out a gauntlet for Ed to steady himself on so he wouldn't fall over again. But the kind gesture went unnoticed for the moment, the elder boy taking it upon himself to get dressed, not even paying attention to the gloved hand that was awaiting him.
"Brother," Al mumbled, adjusting his metal arm so that it would clank, hoping silently that it would grab his brother's attention, no matter how short its span was.
"I'm doing something here, Al," the elder boy stated through grit teeth, trying to stand and keep himself up as he slipped his wounded leg through the now loose material. "So give me just a--"
"Ed," Al repeated, nearly shoving his gloved hand in front of his older brother's nose, the elder boy finally catching his drift.
"Oh, right. Thanks," he muttered albeit sheepishly, actually accepting help for once. His hand shook as he gripped the gauntlet, his body still weak from undernourishment and the infection. He clenched his jaw, pulling the shiny, black material up past his hips and zipping them. He leaned back against the table as he buckled his belt, the leather material appearing to be a little too big now. The boy paid no attention to the fact, sitting back down on the bed and searching for his boots.
"Brother, why-"
Alphonse's words were cut off by the door opening once more, the doctor entering the room. Edward looked over, studying the man who was supposedly helping them. He appeared to be around the age of forty, with neatly cut brown hair, a few stray strands gracing his lined forehead. His eyes appeared kind enough, they a chocolate brown color. He had a medium build, and wore the familiar white coat with a white button-up shirt and black slacks underneath. He glanced over at the two boys, a warm smile lighting up his face.
"I see you're awake, Edward. How do you feel?" he asked, making his way over to the bed. "You gave your brother quite a scare," he said with a grin, taking a thermometer out of his coat pocket.
"I feel just fine, Dr.-" the boy cut himself off purposely, not one to trust new faces, especially medical ones. His brow was narrowed, not liking how his day was beginning.
"Dr. Hocram," the man replied, inserting the temperature device in the boy's mouth, letting out a chuckle as the kid tried to talk. "You'll be able to ask whatever you want in just a moment," he stated, as he took out his stethoscope. He laughed a little harder when he saw the boy backing away into the bed, his brow furrowed. "You really are afraid of doctors, aren't you?" the doctor questioned, his stare growing serious. "Well, Edward, you have my word that if anyone asks, I never saw you," he added, removing the thermometer from the boy's lips. "A low grade fever, but nothing like you came in here with. Alphonse tells me you boys are on your way to Kiase. Must be something important, hmm?" the dark haired man asked, pressing the cold piece of the stethoscope to the boy's chest.
"Don't talk to us like you know us," the first signs of bitterness enchanted the boy's mouth, his golden eyes taking on a defensive air.
"Brother!" Al scolded, looking over at the stubborn twelve year old who had pushed himself further back on the bed, trying to scoot away from the doctor as far as possible.
"Don't worry, it's quite alright," Dr. Hocram interjected with a smile. "After what you boys have been through, it's completely understandable," the man said, glancing at the younger of the two siblings.
"You told him?" the instant exclamation parted the older sibling's lips, his eyes lit by that invisible flame again. His cheeks were flushed with anger, his mouth slowly forming a frown.
"Yes, he told me that you two were on your way to Kiase and your train derailed, and that you got lost trying to find the town. I'm amazed you two made it here as quickly as you did. You must've walked day and night," he said, surprise in his tone as he looked between the boys.
Edward's gaze immediately landed on Alphonse, guilt gripping his insides. The eleven year old had walked for two days straight with the older boy on his back, probably not even stopping to rest. His golden eyes gleamed, partially with pride for his younger sibling, and partially with the sadness that was starting to envelope him.
"We have important business to attend to, and with Brother in the condition he was in, I thought it to be best to keep going until I found something. Luckily, I wound up here. Thank you very much for letting us stay here, sir," the innocent tone filtered through the metallic suit, his soul-filled eyes trained on the doctor.
"It's no problem," the older man replied, looking back at Edward. "Would you mind if I took a look at your leg? Before you go?" the doctor asked, his tone gentle.
Without a word, the older boy scooted forward, rolling his ripped pants leg up, not wanting to part with the black material again.
"Ed…" Al's voice streamed through the blonde's ears, the twelve year old reluctantly responding by taking off his slacks. He immediately folded his arms, not understanding the big fuss about his leg anyway. It was just a silly gash, after all. As nonchalant as he tried to be, as soon as the doctor touched his leg, he jumped, the wound still a bit tender after all.
"Did that hurt?" Dr. Hocram asked, raising an eyebrow as he unfolded more of the bandage from Ed's leg.
"A little," the twelve year old replied through grit teeth, his brow furrowed. His jaw clenched tightly as his fingers dug into the white sheet, still tinged with his sweat. "Are we done yet?" he inquired, his golden eyes glowing with anger and pain.
"Just about. It's still leaking a little fluid, but that's only natural with your movements and all. You'll have quite a scar when it's healed, but other than that, you should be fine," he explained, rewrapping it with a clean bandage. The man was silent for a moment, finally deciding to ask the question that had been on his mind since Alphonse had carried the unconscious boy into his office. "I can't help but ask, but how did it happen?"
"How did what happen?" Ed asked in a bemused tone, one eyebrow arching in confusion. He watched the older man search for the right words, they finally meeting his ear.
"How did you lose your limbs? It must've been a pretty nasty accident," the man observed, his eyes tracing the intricate design of the automail, wondering how a person so young could have had something so awful happen to them.
"It was," Edward replied without giving a definitive answer. He stood to his feet once more, pulling up his pants and reaching for his boots. Even though his eyes were trained on the clean, tiled floor, the twelve year old saw the look the man had given him, and it didn't contain pity. "Thank you for your services, Dr. Hocram," the boy said, trying to stand as straight as he could without his leg giving out on him. "You will be paid in full by the Sta-"
"The State can keep its money, son," the man interrupted the twelve year old, and quite abruptly at that. "I have no need for it," he stated, his face masqueraded by an expressionless mask.
The man's statements caught the boy off guard, his golden eyes drifting from the gaze he held with the floor to the man's mysterious chocolate colored eyes. "And why's that?" Edward couldn't help but ask, never knowing anyone to refuse money of any kind before.
The doctor stared at him for a moment before speaking. "The State and its military aren't exactly the most gracious, Mr. Elric. They can hand out all the money and reimbursements they want, but none of that money will pay for the crimes they have committed in the past. I can only give you my sympathy for being one of their dogs. How you got yourself into that situation is none of my business, son, but I can only hope you get yourself out of it, and soon." He gave the twelve year old one last look before turning towards the door, his white coat brushing past him.
"You sound as though you used to be one of their dogs," the assumption found its way out of the State Alchemist's lips, a smirk sneaking its way across his youthful visage.
The man stopped, his hand on the doorknob. He stared straight, a low sigh escaping his lips. "Whatever you are looking for, I'm doubtful you'll find it in the place your going to. Nothing lives there but rumors and old wives tales. You'll find it's only more trouble than its worth. But I'm just an old man, what do I know, right?" he asked, a touch of wistfulness on his breath. He glanced back at the bewildered boy as he opened the door. "All I can say is be careful, son. Trouble has and always will find its way to those people." He closed the door behind him, leaving a very angry and frustrated blonde in his midst.
&&&&&
"Now do you really think that was necessary?" a throaty voice floated through the air, a hint of mischief concealed in the woman's tone.
"Of course it was. It's not my fault humans are so nosey. Always getting into business they shouldn't be in," another voice replied, this one a bit deeper than the first.
"So are things going according to plan?" the first woman questioned, her violet eyes trained on the individual standing before her.
"Those fools will be searching night and day for that pipsqueak after Miss Lane's retelling of her version of the story. I wonder what they'll do when they find out she's already dead," the second one wondered sarcastically, placing a contemplating finger to their chin.
"Well done, Envy. Are we moving on to step two then?" the ebony-haired woman questioned, a hand going to her hip.
"Not yet. We still have a few more loose ends to tie up, if you know what I mean," Envy grinned in a way that could only be described as deviously.
"Lust," another voice came from behind the first woman, this one asking in a pleading tone. "I'm hungry."
"Don't worry, Gluttony, you'll be able to have something soon," Lust smiled, watching the shorter homunculi that had become a constant companion at her side. "Very soon," she added, a wicked grin accompanying the statement. "Let's go."
Author's note : Wow! Hey look at that, it finally ended. And now ya gotta deal with a terribly long author's note. I just want to say how thankful and grateful I am for the amount of support I'm getting from you guys, all of you(even the silent ones;). Thank you all so, so much, because I never thought I was going to get this far. So, seriously, THANK YOU:D
Hopefully, this chapter sufficed. And yes, the homunculi have finally made an appearance!
Once again, THANKS goes to Aemilia Rose, ssj2raider, cuylerjade, ThePatheticWriter, Flashlight Maniac, BlackHalliwell, karikado, Roy-Fan-33, Me and My God Complex, Hitokiri Musei, CrystalMind, Birth of Venus, hyperdude, TelevisionGod, Akamori-chan, JChrys, Lyemi, marufu-chan, Legendary Chimera, vampirelf, Harryswoman, demon thing, Kisathe silent, DarkAmber112, New Dragon Rider, Naruto82muchramen, and all of you who have reviewed or put me on a fav list.
I should have a few one-shots coming out, not sure when though. Oh, well, hope you enjoyed! ;)
P.S. I have a question for all of you. Is Edward more than a year older than Al, or less? For example : One year and a few months, or like eleven months and a day? This has been bothering me for some reason. If anyone knows, please let me know! Thanks! ; )
P.P.S Sorry I didn't get a chance to reply to all of you this time, but I promise I will next time!