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 19 : The Longer I Go, The Less I Know
The hazel eyed man could have sworn his heart had stopped beating if it weren't for the fact that it was pulsating so loudly in his ears. His mouth went dry as the gleam of the object came into view, he immediately going for the spare weapons he kept up his sleeve, so to speak. He heard the faint sound of disoriented snapping in his ears, realizing that his counterpart was not in the greatest of states.
"Dammit, Roy," he muttered through grit teeth, moving as fast he possibly could to push the slightly shorter man behind him. "You never did know when to quit, did you?" he joked, even though they were in the situation they were in. He could feel the cool steel of the weapon chill his palm, though the usual reassurance of having it did not ease over him as it should have. Instead, it was a replaced with fear, a feeling he wished he never would have known. His throat went dry once more, the saliva he so badly needed temporarily banished from his tongue.
He could hear his comrade still fumbling around behind him, his ungloved fingers still snapping persistently. Though the distraction was minute, it was still enough for him to lose his concentration, the steel blade becoming slippery and falling to the ground with all due thanks to the sweat his palm had acquired. "Dammit!" he hissed, the seconds passing by too quickly for his liking. It was too late, the stranger was within three feet of them now, leaving only one option open. "Sorry, Roy," Maes mumbled, pushing the intoxicated man to the ground, ready to take whatever pain was going to come.
He waited, and waited, but there was nothing. No shots, no puncturing of flesh, no nothing. He carefully opened the eyes that he hadn't realized were closed, only to see a young man around the age of thirty standing very confused and slightly frightened in front of him. He arched a surprised eyebrow at this, his heart still palpitating in his eardrums.
"Um, sorry to bother you, sir, but your friend left this at the tavern," the young bartender stated shakily as he placed the silver State Alchemist's pocket watch in the Major's hand. "I'm really sorry, I didn't mean..."
"Don't worry about it," Hughes easily interjected with a wave of the hand. "My friend and I have just had a long night. Sorry about the confusion," he stated with a sheepish grin, a nervous hand going to the back of his head. "Um, thanks," he added with a nod, the embarrassed grin still in place.
"Um, no problem, sir," the bartender replied, his voice still quavering a bit. The young man turned quickly, making his way back to the tavern.
An exasperated sigh escaped the Major's lips, a loose strand of his chocolate colored hair getting in his eyes. "That's it. No more trips to the bar without my supervision," he declared as he pulled the highly confused but ready to fight Lieutenant Colonel off the rain littered ground. "Next time, glue this to yourself so I don't think the guy's going to kill us when he comes charging at us, okay?" Maes lightly scolded, fastening the chain to Roy's belt loop.
Mustang's visage was a mix of melancholy and anger, his onyx eyes staring past the man that was standing before him. The beat of his heart had slowed considerably, but there was still an unknown fear planted deep within his soul, and even in his drunken state, he could still feel it creeping through his nerves, as numb as they were.
"What were you going to tell me?" the ebony haired man inquired, trying his best to look coherent enough to understand what the other man had to say. He trained his sight on his best friend, meeting the other man's concerned gaze.
"That can wait until we get back to the inn. Come on," Maes offered, holding out an arm for the man to steady himself on.
The Lieutenant Colonel groggily shook his head, pushing the Hughes' arm away in the process. His narrowed brow stared forward at the damp street that lay ahead of them, his brain commanding his legs to move forward. They did, though the result of walking in a straight line was left to be desired. He stumbled, the dizziness surrounding him like a pack of wolves closing in on their prey.
"Stubborn ass," Hughes muttered under his breath, catching the man before he could fall flat on his face. "Has anything suspicious happened since you've been here?" he asked after a few minutes of walking, even more on the lookout after what had just taken place.
The other man contemplated the question, a smart remark hanging on the tip of his inebriated tongue. "If you don't count what just happened, then the answer is no. Nothing strange except for the looks I've been getting for the past forty-eight hours," he replied, the trademark smirk pushing up the corners of his lips.
"Well, that goes without saying, doesn't it?" Maes shot back, getting in a touch of sarcasm for the other man to wallow in a bit. He glanced up, thankful the inn was less than ten yards away. The rain had let up for the moment, though a light drizzle was still confiscating the air. "Do you remember the number of the room you were in?" he asked with hesitance, praying the alcohol would wear off sooner rather than later.
"I don't need to remember," the dark haired man answered simply. "Not when she's waiting for me," he added, pointing to the lone figure that was standing complacently in the shadows.
Hughes looked up, seeing Hawkeye step into view, relief flooding over his system. "He had a little too much," he whispered, motioning with his index finger and thumb while squinting an eye.
"I see," the woman stated, placing another arm around their ranking officer, the worry that was rooted inside fading a bit, though not completely; never completely.
"I'm judging by the looks of things that the boys haven't made it here yet," Hughes presumed as they helped Mustang up the rickety steps to the inn entrance, quietly making their way inside without too much noise.
"No, they haven't, and I believe that's partially the reason why the Colonel is the way he is at the moment," Riza stated, glancing over at the Major.
"Should've known," Maes mumbled with a shake of the head. "Well, that doesn't help matters much now does it?" he asked, his tone serious as it befell the First Lieutenant's ears.
"You both can stop talking about me like I'm deaf now," the Lieutenant Colonel stated in the best authoritative tone he could muster, raising his head up and giving them both slightly angered glances.
"Sorry, sir," Hawkeye responded immediately, tensing at the sound of his voice, whereas Hughes just let out a quiet chuckle and a roll of the eyes, not even bothering to humor the still half-drunken man.
They made their way into Mustang's room and closed the door carefully behind them, the First Lieutenant quick to make sure it was locked and secured. For some reason, she just didn't want to take her chances around this town, no matter how quiet and serene it appeared. Appearances always seemed to be deceiving when it came to the military and the people that were involved. She disappeared into the bath room, extracting a few things from the medicine cabinet.
"Geez, Roy, always one to attract trouble, aren't you? And I thought the Elrics were bad about that..." Maes started with the tirade of sarcasm, inwardly knowing it was one of the only ways to pull the Lieutenant Colonel out of his drunken stupor.
"Trouble?" Hawkeye questioned with a hint of worry in her tone as she returned from the other room with a few pills and a glass of water in her hands. "What kind of trouble?" she queried, staring at the Major as she attended to Roy.
"Well-" Hughes started, ready to go into all out exaggerated mode, a frightening tale of suspense and horror ready to befall his lips until he was so politely cut off by the other man, his eyes now slightly more alert and awake.
"I accidentally left my pocket watch behind at the drinking establishment I was so cordially invited to, and due to bad lighting and poor judgment on both of our parts," he stated, raising an eyebrow in Hughes direction, "We mistook the watch to be a weapon instead of what it truly was." After ending his thorough explanation, he took the aspirin and water from his subordinate, swallowing both as his companions sat in wait until he was finished. "Now, Hughes, you said you have important information to tell me. Divulge away," he said with a wave of the hand, an expressionless mask diluting his features.
"Alright. You'll recall that two days ago, I called you with information regarding a Miss Lane," he began, looking between the other two officers. "Well, after investigating further, and talking to the remaining witnesses, I found out that Miss Lane was actually killed in the derailment." He paused at this, seeing the silent confusion that was slowly corrupting his fellow officers' eyes. "At first I thought that they had to be mistaken, but after making a few calls, it turns out that her body was identified by her husband back at Central. And everything checks out, meaning that the woman I talked to--"
"Wasn't her," Roy finished quietly, discontent in his eyes. "Well, this certainly broadens the spectrum, doesn't it? So we have a dead woman telling tales, but for what reason and why?" he questioned out loud, a contemplating finger gracing his cheek.
"That's not all, Roy. I received a complete description of Mrs. Janet Lane, and it fits the woman I talked to right down to the very last detail," Maes explained, a hint of dread lacing the man's hazel eyes. "Which means we're dealing with more than just you're out of the ordinary yet still routine train derailment here." The man paused once more, fishing some papers out of his back pocket and adjusting his glasses. "Alright, in the statement Miss Lane gave to me, she said that she witnessed someone wearing a red coat transmuting the tracks. Of course we all know that that description only fits Ed, but if Miss Lane is dead..."
"Then who's trying to frame Edward?" Hawkeye let the question they were all thinking roll off her tongue, her brow narrowed in thought. "Permission to speak, sir?" she requested automatically, inwardly knowing she could give off any suggestion she wanted and the man would be listening, permission or not. Mustang nodded, giving her the go ahead. "I think you should inform the Fuhrer of these findings, sir, and request backup if necessary. Tell him what you stumbled upon, and your findings, and the information that we have so far. Whatever is going on here sounds like the work of more than one person, and in the least, sophisticated and thought out. Sir, I do not believe that Edward Elric transmuted those tracks, but if he didn't, someone else did. And that person, whoever they may be, are dangerous, and prepared to kill without a second thought. I don't think this is a minor situation, sir," she ended, prepared for his analysis on her proposition.
The Lieutenant Colonel was silent for a moment, his obsidian eyes fixed on the moon that had miraculously appeared in the charcoal-grey sky above. He stood to his feet, swaying ever so slightly as he made his way over to the window, quiet still resting temporarily on his lips. He folded his arms across his chest, it rising and falling slowly.
"Sir?" Hawkeye asked, her tone slightly hushed, her cinnamon eyes trained on the stubbornly nonvocal man standing in front of her.
"I don't know what's going on around here, but I do know that every time I see this town, a nauseating feeling arises in the pit of my stomach. When I was younger, I heard stories about this place, and I'm not necessarily saying that I believe in them, but at least now I know they weren't exactly untrue. I just can't believe it's taken me this long to realize it," the uncharacteristic confession befell his partially intoxicated tongue, his gaze still transfixed on the town that sat in front of him. "But if those boys have gotten themselves into the mess I think they've gotten themselves into, then I believe you're right. I'll report to the Fuhrer first thing in the morning," he stated, his hardened stare still facing the window.
"And you're sure about this? It is possible that the more attention we attract to this whole thing, the worse it could get," Hughes inquired, only to answer his own question. "Though the possibility of something happening to the boys because of us not making a slight commotion about the whole thing..." the man's voice trailed off, not wanting to finish his own thoughts, however much truth he could hold to them.
"It's settled then. I suggest the both of you get some rest beforehand. Today's going to be a busy day," Mustang announced with a smirk before disappearing into the bathroom, the running of water suggesting the two take heed of his suggestion.
"Looks like I'd better go call Gracia and let her know I won't be home again tonight," Hughes said as he too stood to his feet, making his way towards the door. "You might wanna go in there, make sure he doesn't pass out or something," he gave off a grin, seeing the unrequited anger in the blonde's eyes and the slight flush run across her cheeks, she slamming the door in the man's face in reflex. "Hey, isn't your room next door? Or are you two sharing tonight?" His eyebrows arched when he heard the sound of a gun cocking on the other side of the door, he immediately turning towards the stairs. "Women..."
&&&&&
"Hey, wait a second!" Edward called after the man, anger and impatience creeping into his tone. Quickly sliding his boots on and ignoring the pain and dizziness that pursued him, he made his way out of the room, blatantly letting his little brother's calls fall on deaf ears.
"Ed! Ed, what are you doing?" the eleven year old's voice emanated from the steel suit, a breathless sigh escaping the metal prison. He immediately went after the smaller boy, grabbing the few possessions they had brought in the process.
"What do you know?" the twelve year old questioned a little too loudly, slowly but surely catching up with the older man. "Don't ignore me!" he shouted as the man continued to walk down the hall, only stopping when the blonde got in his way.
They stood in silence for a moment, Edward's glare traveling up to the man that was at least a foot taller than him, though the height differential was the last thing on the child's mind.
"We didn't come all this way to be told to go back," Ed started, his golden orbs flaring with a silent compassion only his brother could recognize. "Every person I come across tells me that it's just a waste of time, and not to go there because there's nothing there for me. Well, you know what, Doctor, I think you're lying and there's something you don't won't to tell me! What do you know?" he exclaimed, golden strands falling in his face.
The older man stared at him for a long moment, a seriousness touching his features that hadn't presented itself there before. Pain slowly leaked though his aged visage, curiosity attached as well. His clenched fists slowly loosened, falling limp at his sides, though faintly—just faintly, Edward could see the Doctor's hands shaking, though unsure of whether or not it was out of anger or out of fear.
"Tell me something, Edward. What was your purpose of joining the military? Why in the world would you want to be apart of something that you have no clue about?" Dr. Hocram inquired, staring down at the youth who was determined to go undefeated for once.
"I don't think that's any of your business, now is it?" the twelve year old asked raising an eyebrow, anger seeping across his weary features. Double vision taunted him silently, tugging at the corners of his sight. He gritted his teeth in response, trying desperately to hold his ground.
"So you want to question me, but I can't get any information out of you? That doesn't sound like Equivalent Exchange to me, Edward. And I do believe that would only be fair, don't you? After all, isn't that the first principal of alchemy, or do I stand corrected?"
Something about the man's sudden change in tone and stature made the boy slightly nervous, the Doctor most definitely knowing more than he wanted to let on. Deciding that if he truly wanted the knowledge the man was teasing him with, the fact of divulging a bit of his own was his only option.
"Alright then, fine," the twelve year old stated with determined curiosity. "I joined the military to fix something I messed up a long time ago. I made a promise to my brother, and I'm determined to do whatever it is I have to do to fix my mistake. Your turn," Edward ended, making sure for once that he didn't open his mouth too wide.
"And you actually think that the State is going to help you accomplish whatever it is that you set out to do?" Dr. Hocram asked incredulously, a laugh almost befalling his lips.
"Yes, I do!" the boy exclaimed indignantly, clenching his jaw tight, only making his sunken cheeks delve in further, his cheek bones overly prominent.
"And tell me, son, did the State make you like that as well?" the older man queried, slightly amused at the confusion that was now washing over the boy's face.
"Make me like what?" Edward questioned, anger swimming in his tone. What the man was asking him was slowly starting to come to mind, and it was exactly the question that he'd been trying to avoid for the last few weeks.
"If you extract the weight of the automail, you're at least twenty-five pounds underweight for someone of your height," the Doctor explained, his tone turning completely serious yet placid, his dark eyes transfixed on the golden ones staring up at him, seemingly larger than what they were supposed to be.
The moment the man said those words, Edward could feel his heart try to beat its way out of his chest. He tried so hard not to look as if the statement stung, but he could feel its aftertaste, burning in his lungs. And it didn't help that his little brother was standing less than ten feet away, surely anger riling in his soul. But stubborn and ready as ever, he stood his ground, his gaze never faltering.
"I've always been small for my age," he stated through carefully grit teeth, not wanting to admit any truth whatsoever to the Doctor's statement, inwardly knowing the older man was right. But there was no way the boy was going to give in, he had to be strong, plain and simple.
"Small for you age or not, it appears as though you haven't eaten a full meal in quite a long time. And if you don't start soon, those mechanical limbs of yours will be the first to shut down. I'm actually surprised they haven't yet due to your undernourishment. They are bio-mechanical, are they not?" he inquired, an almost satisfied smile tugging at his lips.
Anger flushed the boys cheeks into a crimson color, his ears not wanting to hear any more of it. And with the pounding of his heart flushing through his head, he was too busy concentrating on that than the words his brain was trying to make his mouth formulate.
"My limbs and my eating habits are none-"
"Brother!" Alphonse interjected, anger eating at his soul. He tried so hard to be patient with his older sibling, but in instances like this, that patience had all but disappeared. "He's just trying to ask you a few questions, Ed, so let him. He is a doctor after all, right? And if he thinks there's something wrong then-"
"There's nothing wrong with me, Al! And you know it!" the blonde immediately defended himself, his chest rising and falling quickly. "All he's doing is avoiding my questions!" He paused, turning towards Dr. Hocram. "You want to use Equivalent Exchange? Alright then, Doctor, you've asked me plenty now it's your turn. Were you in the military?"
The older man stared at him with uncertainty for a moment, letting the truths and lies alike find their way to his lips. "Yes, I was," he answered simply, much too casually for Edward's taste. There had to be more to it than that. Though now the curiosity about this man was starting plague his soul, for reasons unknown.
The twelve year old stared up at the older man, anger narrowing his brow. This was not how he wanted the conversation to go, and the fact that the longer it continued, the more he felt like a fool in the Doctor's eyes. "So you were a dog as well," the blonde started, pulling as much confidence as he could muster up. "And what did you do there? Were you a State Alchemist too?" he questioned, folding his arms, his balance silently mocking him.
The man could not help but smile at the boy's determined anger, though the depressing thought of the kid's health and his condition worried him. If the twelve year old wasn't careful, the mission he was on could kill him, and from the looks of it, it was sure as hell trying.
"No, actually I served as a Doctor for the State. Wherever they needed me, I went. I was stationed in Central for quite awhile until the Ishbal Rebellion. Afterwards, I decided that the military was more of a waste of time than I had first thought, so I quit and traveled west. I finally wound up in Landon and have been here ever since, helping those that actually need it," the dark haired man explained, his voice calm and collected. Apparently, the child wasn't impressed.
"And what was it exactly that made you leave?" Edward asked, biting back the nausea that was stirring in his stomach. He swayed slightly, inwardly hoping that no one had noticed, though he knew that was a bit of an impractical thought.
"Once you're in it for long enough, you'll understand. You should rest before you go. The walk still won't be pleasant, even if it is fairly close," Dr. Hocram informed the twelve year old who was growing more temperamental by the moment.
"Don't change the subject," Edward stated bitterly, his golden orbs taking in everything about the older man that he could. Though as hard as he tried, he still couldn't figure out the reason why he had taken an instant disliking to the man. Perhaps, it was the fact that he was a doctor. Perhaps.
"And you might care to eat something as well," the man continued, ignoring Ed's stubbornness of trying to get anymore out of him. But the boy wouldn't go down without a fight, that was for sure. "If you lose any more weight, your body might not be able to support your arm and leg."
"What do you know about Kiase?" the blunt exclamation left the boy's near trembling lips, heat on his breath. He swallowed back the bitter taste of the saliva that was polluting his mouth, it making him want to wretch. The man's silence only fueled the fire that burned in his golden eyes even more. "Give me one good reason why we shouldn't go there," he offered, a satisfied victory smirk tugging at his mouth.
"If you want to keep that promise to your brother, then I'd suggest listening to me. There's a reason why the military is not needed nor called to that town. They prefer to do things—all things, without their help. And if you choose to meddle in their affairs as you probably will, take that very fact into consideration," the man warned, the lines in his forehead and jaw taking form, he now appearing much older for some reason.
The boy took this in, though one question he still needed to ask had not yet left his vocal chords. Lifting his gaze from the floor, he stared up at the man, his lips seemingly curled into a pout. "You said you're familiar with the town of Kiase. Have you ever had to make a trip there, for medical purposes?" he asked, the fine line of the boy's maturity being crossed.
The Doctor was surprised at the twelve year old's sudden sense of seriousness, a thick, dark eyebrow raising in response. "A few times, yes, and neither of those times were very pleasant," he stated honestly, taking note of how sick the boy really looked.
"And why's that?" Edward queried, bile spilling into his throat again. He choked it down silently, his stomach recoiling in reflex. He grit his teeth, his insides giving his brain the signal that if they didn't consume something edible soon, all hell would break loose. And it would not be a pretty sight.
"You really are quite stubborn, aren't you, son?" Dr. Hocram asked, a smile appearing faintly on his lips, hiding his fear momentarily.
"I do what I have to do to find out the truth, sir," he stated, his golden gaze never faltering. His stare shifted for just a moment, falling on the little brother that had worked so hard to get him to where he was at. The eleven year old was standing just behind the Doctor, his metallic helmet fixed at the floor, his soul-filled eyes flickering, the sight making the elder boy's heart break. He forced himself to look away from the younger boy and back at Dr. Hocram. "Have you ever heard of a woman by the name of Lydia LaShea?" the question rolled off the blonde's tongue, his golden eyes searching the man for any indication of recognition of the woman's name. Even now, it sent chills down the State Alchemist's spine.
"You certainly are more knowledgeable than I first thought," the almost sharp remark exited the doctor's mouth, his chocolate eyes staring deep into Edward's. "So that's what you're going to Kiase for; to see that woman." The man let out a scoff, touched with a pinch of laughter.
"You know her?" Edward and Alphonse questioned in unison, the surprise of the man's knowledge turning off the younger one's oath of sudden silence.
The Doctor took his turns staring at them, studying each one intently. "Lydia LaShea is one that could only be classified in medical terms as psychotic. And why you're going to see that woman is beyond me. The things she's done...," his voice trailed off, a hint of hidden terror in his eyes.
"We're not actually going to see her," Alphonse started to explain, politely being cut off by his older brother.
"Yeah, she's dead," Edward finished, holding back any sign of the silent horror that woman had implanted in his blood. Those emerald eyes still managed to see the light of day...
The Doctor looked shocked, to an extent, though part of him expected it. His visage fell to an almost crestfallen state, a twinge of disbelief washing over his features. "Is that right?" he muttered, images of the past suddenly flooding through his mind.
"Yeah, she and her son died...in a fire," the twelve year old informed the older man, his golden eyes burning. His skin was already starting to crawl, those crystal clear emeralds burrowing deeper within him. He repeatedly told himself that the woman was gone and there was no possible way she could get to him, except in his dreams. He nearly shuddered at the thought, though stopped the urge. The twelve year old wanted to cast out any sign of weakness, wanting to appear as strong as possible.
The Doctor listened to the child's words, his brow narrowing as they left the boy's lips. "But that can't be possible. Her son was stillborn."
"How would you know that, Doctor?" Alphonse asked, now standing beside Ed. The eleven year old let their differences go for the time being, deciding that the walk to Kiase would be the best time to discuss them.
"Well, because I was there," the man answered simply with a disbelieving laugh, once again looking between the two boys.
"Did you have anyone with you? Another doctor, or an assistant?" Edward immediately piped up, the anger in his golden orbs transforming into awed interest.
"Well, yes, but—"
"What was his name?" the question flew out of the twelve year old's mouth, leaning forward towards the man, looking like a feline ready to pounce on its prey. For the first time in a long time, the boy showed signs of life in his vibrant orbs.
The Doctor stared at the boy for a moment, recalling the name that had burrowed a hole deep within his memory. The images were still fresh, though the name was another circumstance. Haunting screams of Lydia LaShea proclaiming bloody murder flowed through his mind, he trying his damnedest to block it out.
"It was Raine," the name uttered off the tip of his tongue. "Raine Pierson. I was actually his assistant at the time, believe it or not," he stated, the dream of nostalgia taming his voice as well as his tone. "It was right before I joined the military, or perhaps, the reason why I did. That fool taught me practically everything I know." He paused, a rather angry look pursuing his features. "We had just made it to that damned town when a man came running through the square, going on and on about how his wife was gravely ill and was in need of medical attention.
"So, of course we went, without even giving it a second thought. When we arrived, there was blood all over the place. I almost thought the man had lost his mind until we saw her. She was lying on the floor in a puddle of her own blood, circles and various arrays as you call them scattered about, drawn by her own hand, no less. She was screaming and crying and yelling about how she was pregnant but she feared the child to be dead inside of her, and due to the amount of blood she had lost, it was more than likely correct. Raine gave her a sort of tranquilizer, to calm her down, but it seemed as though it had the opposite affect on her and she went even more mad.
"She kept pleading with us to save the boy, that there had to be a way. But there wasn't. After all, you can't save something that had the possibility of being dead for weeks let alone days. But Raine tried anyway. He told her that if she just relaxed, everything would be alright. But I knew it wouldn't. There was just no way." The man stopped once more, his far off gaze making it perfectly clear that he was reliving the memory of that night, his conscience making it all too vivid.
"The birth was painful, and the woman was clearly on the edge of dying, and as soon as the child was born, you could tell that death was coming to claim her as well. I-I've never heard anyone scream like that in my life. The pure pain and fear that woman held...it was unbearable." His head bowed, his voice starting to shake. "Raine told me to go into town, to tell the people what had happened, and to come back with something that would clean up the blood. When I returned...he was dead, and the woman and man were gone, along with the baby's corpse. I've only returned once to that place, and even then..." His voice trailed off, clearly taken aback by his own recollection of the tale. He stood silent, the boys unearthly silence penetrating his hearing.
Edward was the first to speak, holding back any sort of emotion that he could. Just hearing the man's story sent his soul into despair. "Doctor Pierson, he wasn't apart of the military too, was he?" His voice was soft, faint in the older man's ears.
"To be honest, I really don't know. I had only been with him for a short time before...that experience. I only know that he resided in a town further west of here. I believe it was called Renégauld." The Doctor's eyes were slightly glazed over, he finally lifting his gaze from the floor.
"Thank you for your time, Doctor," Edward stated, standing as tall as he could, staring straight at the man. "Come on, Al. There's been a change of plans," the boy announced quietly as they departed the man's office, the cloudy night sky peering down at them. "We're going to Renégauld."
&&&&&
He felt it again. The dry wind choking his throat, the flying sand burning his eyes. The blaze of the hot desert sun lost in the haze of war, the heat searing nonetheless. But no matter how hot it was, he still shivered, the fear in his soul forthcoming.
He made the same trek once more, walking past the bodies that no longer held life in their eyes. He made his way past the screaming men and women who were either dying or suffering, at the likes of the very military he was working for. But he did not listen to them, left them behind as he was told to do. He had another assignment that was to be completed.
His own footsteps echoed mercilessly throughout his brain, mocking his false sense of security and duty. He had a job to do, no questions asked.
The familiar sign hung above the medical tent, giving welcome to all who were in pain or were in need of help, no matter their race. But their race mattered to the military. The fact that they did not have blue or brown eyes, or skin pale or cream in color; but terrifying red eyes and brown skin, the mark of Ishbal. There was no more room for these people in Amestris. Not anymore. Nor was there room for those two doctors either.
The onyx-eyed man found himself inside the red tent once more, gun cocked and ready to fire. Roy Mustang could feel the beads of sweat gather on his forehead and neck, slowly trickling teasingly down his face and back. He could feel his mouth run dry, and his finger press slightly down on the trigger. But then, everything changed, just as it had in the dream before.
Suddenly, he was no longer the one aiming the gun.
He opened his terrified eyes, seeing the barrel pointed directly at his own forehead. His mouth opened to speak, but he could force nothing to escape but a faint plea. But what caused him the most distress was the person that was holding the weapon.
Two golden eyes peered eerily back into his, the man now feeling his knees give out on him, disbelief flooding through his brain. He could feel his head shaking back and forth, though everything was now being controlled by another presence, not his anymore. He tried to close his eyes, but they were being held open by an invisible force, making him stare directly at the shooter.
The boy's face was strangely placid, though horror marked his fearful golden eyes. His gloved hand was shaking, the metal clanking miserably. Golden strands of blonde swirled about his face, framing the terror-filled child. "I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice on the edge of breaking. "I'm so sorry...but...it was an order."
The loud explosion that emanated from the gun woke him, he not wanting to stay unconscious long enough to hear his own body drop to the floor. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong; and the alcohol that had tumbled through his system earlier that night was now his most recent regret. Sighing, he laid back down, knowing sleep would not come to claim him for as long as he was in that town. Silently, he hoped nothing else would either.
&&&&&
The office was serenely quiet, the man listening for any sign of life from the outside world that he could, though all was silent and still. He stared out the window, watching the clouds congregate in the sky. He closed his eyes, not understanding why he had told himself so long ago to forget the incident that was now haunting his sight. Those emerald green orbs flashed over and over again, the woman's screams chilling him down to his bones.
He shivered, his eyes slowly landing on the metallic object that was lying on his desk.
For nearly twenty years, he had been subject to visions of Lydia LaShea and the evil that emanated off of her; and just when he thought they were over, he was forced to recall them, as if they had just taken place yesterday.
Even through all the hellish nightmares he had witnessed in the War, nothing outweighed the impact of that woman. And to this day, he still couldn't figure out why. Perhaps, it was time to forget. To forever erase those piercing emerald greens and the dread they brought with them.
He slowly eased the weapon into his hand, blinking back tears as he did so. Yes, the time had finally come to move on. The man nearly smiled at the thought, though his lips could only lift themselves so high.
The cool metal pressed against his skin, a sudden rush of fear washing through his body. He tensed, realizing he was not the only one in the room.
"Go ahead, no one will miss you," the familiar voice cooed, a figure easing out of the shadows.
"No-no, it can't be! You're dead! You're dead!" the Doctor cried out, terrified of the image that was befalling his sight.
"Dead? Now who told you that?" Emerald eyes burned into his, hungry for the life that was still left in his own.
"Please! Please, stop...just go away," he muttered, tears of fright trickling down his cheeks. "Just leave me alone...Please..."
"You just had to open your mouth, didn't you? It's your own fault that I'm here, Doctor. Yours and yours alone," she smiled that pitifully perfect grin, brunette locks falling just past her shoulders. She looked so young, and could have been beautiful, if not for the hate that presented itself within those deep pools of emerald.
Silence rested before them, the sound of the man's heart beating rapidly underneath his skin being the only noise in the room. And the longer he listened, the louder it got.
"Go on, Doctor. That's right," the woman grinned, watching happily as the man lifted the gun to his mouth once more, cocking the trigger as he did so. "See, it's not as hard as it seems, now is it? Just remember, I wasn't the one who killed you."
And just before the bang evaporated through the air, those emerald eyes that had been his ghost for so long turned golden. He had no time to scream as his finger automatically pulled the trigger, all his memories and fears being blasted into oblivion.
"That was just too easy," Envy scoffed, still in the form of Edward Elric. Lazily, he picked up the phone, though carefully dialing the call number.
"Have you cleaned up the mess?" a woman's voice asked casually on the other side of the line, wasting no time for chitchat.
"Of course. I wouldn't have called if I hadn't," Envy replied, watching as Lust held Gluttony back from consuming the now lifeless doctor.
"Good. But remember what I said, you can get close, but not too close. They aren't supposed to expect a thing. Understand?"
"You don't need to explain anything to me, Sloth. I know what I'm doing," Envy shot back fiercely, a scowl creeping over his features.
"Oh, and one more thing; please stop pretending to be my son. That act's getting rather old, don't you think?" Sloth quipped, a smirk resting comfortably across her face, the slamming of the phone on the other end only making it more apparent. She looked up, the Fuhrer entering the office.
"Well?" he asked, glancing over at the woman.
"There's been a slight change of plans," she stated, standing to her feet. "They're on their way to Renégauld."
"Keep an eye on them," he replied, thoughtfully stroking his chin. "Now, what to do about the others..."
Author's note : I AM SO SORRY for being a day late, everyone. It's probably not that big of a deal, but still...My apologies. ; ) Well, that was a helluva chapter, wasn't it? And it took forever to write too. But as long as you all like it...
MANY THANKS goes to Legendary Chimera, Harryswoman, Roy-Fan-33, New Dragon Rider, Aemilia Rose, OrangeKittyAlchemist-Sony, Annabele Lee, hyperdude, Akamori-chan, Flashlight Maniac, Me and My God Complex, JChrys, Lyemi, ssj2raider, vampirelf, wahhooo, CrystalMind, kunoichi-no-yoru, Mistress of Darkness, BlackHalliwell, marufu-chan, Hitokiri Musei, demon thing, ThePatheticWriter, and every single one of you who has left me a review or put me on a list. I SINCERELY, TRULY appreciate it.
And for your patience, expect a one-shot tomorrow. ; )
P.s. Dr. Hocram never found out that Lydia revived the baby; oh, and I feel stupid for doing this, but if you spell Dr. Hocram backwards, well, you'll see. ;) Yes, I am a dork. XD