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 20 : Kiss of the Firefly
"Rough night?" Maes Hughes questioned, raising his head up from the newspaper he had been reading. His hazel eyes were met with the sorry sight of the Lieutenant Colonel, eyes more than groggy with sleep and a slightly noticeable hangover.
"Well, due to the unpleasant circumstances that surround us; yes, you could say that," Mustang replied, instantly reaching for the cup of black coffee that had been patiently awaiting his arrival. The bitter taste wracked his tongue, but he needed the bite at the moment, something to wake him from the ungodly state he had awoken in.
"Yeah, me too. I miss Gracia and Elysia so much. You should see her Roy! She's getting so big! That's right, I forgot to show you the new picture I took of her last week!" the tirade of gushing continued to part the man's lips as the newspaper fell carelessly to the floor, the Lieutenant Colonel having only enough energy to restrain from snapping his fingers and singeing his best friend. "Gracia bought her the cutest outfit! See, look!" the Major went on, shoving the picture of a grinning toddler in front of Mustang's angered visage, the black haired man's teeth gritting as more words of mush continued to leave Hughes' mouth.
"Hughes, that's enough!" he snapped, almost as literally as the warning left his clenched jaw. Letting out a broken sigh, his right hand slowly found its way to his temple, his fingertips massaging the throbbing area.
"I'm assuming you haven't talked to the Fuhrer yet," Maes stated, his tone returning to serious mode as he picked up the forgotten newspaper.
Mustang took another long drink of the coffee before replying, holding back the urge to wretch in the process. "No, I haven't. If he heard me like this, he'd think that I was ignoring my responsibilities as a ranking officer. I can't have that, now can I?" he asked, sarcasm aplenty in his voice. "Besides, I'm still stalling for time. After all, he does think we're here because of two serial killers. I wonder how he'll take to the news that all that's left of them are ashes..." his voice trailed off, unable to shake off the smart ass tone he was so good at accomplishing.
"And to think, I can't find anything in this newspaper about two serial killers on the loose. What were their names again? Frick and Frack, you say?" Maes returned with a grin, showcasing his caustic talent as well.
The glare that radiated from the other man's visage did nothing to stop the grin that was still firmly planted on the Major's face, though the thought of Ed and Al still not being there did. A restless sigh escaped the man's normally easy going mannerism, his fingers flipping through the ink-filled pages.
"There's still no sign of the boys, is there?" Mustang inquired, already knowing the answer to his own question. He finished off the coffee, it doing absolutely nothing to ease the pain that was seeping into his soul.
"Nope. That's why the Miss—I mean, that's why Lieutenant Hawkeye's calling around, trying to see what she can find out. Hopefully, they stayed at another inn or something along the way here. At least that'll give us some kind of clue as to where they are," Hughes explained, trying desperately to contain the laughter that wanted to spill out of his mouth upon seeing the anger cross the other man's face. "Hmm, that's strange," he muttered after a quick moment of silence, his brow narrowing.
"What is it?" Roy asked casually, his glare traveling across the table and through the thin piece of paper. He leaned forward, waiting to see if his so-called friend had found something or was just exaggerating another far-fetched story again.
"It says a Doctor in a town not too far away from here killed himself last night. 'Dr. Timothy Hocram was found dead in his medical offices late Wednesday night at approximately eleven o'clock. He died of a self-inflicted gun shot wound to the head. A passerby says that they heard a loud bang and witnessed seeing a flash of light through the windows. Police were called to the scene shortly afterwards where they found his body.' Huh, that's messed up. Hey, wait a second, that name sounds familiar. Hocram..." Hughes voice trailed off, his brow narrowing in thought.
Mustang tried to hide the slight shock that infected his eyes, his brow narrowing as well. "That's because it is," he stated, wishing there was more of the disgusting substance in the empty mug, anything to prevent him from opening his mouth anymore. It didn't help that the headache was skiing down his temples and straight into his jaw.
"You know him?" Maes asked curiously, arching an eyebrow. He set the paper down, staring at the man that sat less that two feet away from him.
"He served in Ishbal. He...was on the medical team there," the Lieutenant Colonel felt the words depart his lips, his grip still tight on the empty mug. He watched with disinterest as his knuckles grew more pale with each second, faint scars appearing. "I can't say I blame him. I guess it finally got to him," he said in a tone that almost sounded wistful, though pain swam just below in its undercurrent.
"Yeah," the quiet mutter befell Hughes' lips, a stray strand of hair falling neatly between his eyes. "I'll be right back. I'm gonna go check on her. See if she's found anything yet," he stated, standing to his feet, albeit with a touch of nervousness.
Mustang nodded in response, inwardly knowing he had a phone call to make as well, though his legs decided to deceive him for the moment and remain still. Out of the corner of his eye, he watched Hughes fade into the small crowd, mixing with the few travelers that actually dared to stay in this town. "It must be nice," he muttered, ignoring the numbness that pursued his lower limbs as he forced himself up, glancing back at the picture of the man that graced the front of the page. His eyes squinted as he read further down the article.
'There were reports of two individuals leaving the offices shortly before the body was found. Their identities are unknown at this time, but they are said to be two young men; one wearing a suit of armor and the other a short blond—'
He froze upon seeing the two descriptions, his eyes widening to twice their normal size. The sound of his heart palpitating in his ears woke him from the daze he'd fallen into. Immediately, he seized up the piece of paper, his hurried footfalls echoing off the hardwood floor.
"You can hang up the phone, I know where the boys are," he stated as he walked up to Hawkeye, shoving the newspaper into Hughes' chest. "I don't know what the hell—"
"Yes, sir, hold on one moment. He's right here, sir," Hawkeye cut him off as formally as she could, handing the bewildered Lieutenant Colonel the receiver.
"Sorry, sir, it's the Fuhrer," she stated, backing away from the onyx-eyed man.
Clearing his throat, he took the call, prepared to launch another trivial amount of lies. "Lieutenant Colonel Mustang, sir," he greeted formally, nearly standing at attention at the sound of the other man's voice.
"Good morning, Colonel. Has there been any progress in the capturing of the two escapees?" the Fuhrer questioned casually on the other side of the line.
"Actually, sir, they're dead," the onyx-eyed man answered, sounding so believable he almost fooled himself into thinking the story was true. "We were in the process of apprehending them last night when they put up a fight. I had no other choice but to defend Lieutenant Hawkeye and myself, sir," he stated, pointing a finger directly on the point in the article where it referred to Ed and Al, washing the confusion that was wracking the Major's face disintegrate into an image of disbelief. He his back on the two as Hawkeye took in the information.
"I see. Well, I suppose that means you and the Lieutenant will be heading back to Central?" the older man inquired, waiting to hear what the soon-to-be Colonel had to say.
"Under normal circumstances, that would be the case, sir, but it appears that there has been a small uprising in a town not too far away from here. With your permission, I'd like to see what the commotion's all about," the partial truth escaped his lips, his brow narrowed in Edward-like determination.
"Is that right?" Bradley asked with a laugh, leaning forward in his chair. "Should I send reinforcements to accompany you there, Colonel? I wouldn't want things to get out of hand, should an accident happen."
"To be honest, sir, I'd like a go at this alone, with the Lieutenant's accompaniment, of course. If further back-up is needed, I'll request it as soon as I know what's going on," the tall tales continued to spew out of the younger man's mouth, gritting his teeth when he heard a snicker come from behind.
"As you wish. Inform me when you get there, but don't get too curious, Colonel." And with that, the conversation came to an end, a dial tone meeting Mustang's ears.
"Well, sir?" Hawkeye questioned, staring up at the Lieutenant Colonel with an expectant look, curiosity in her cinnamon colored orbs.
"He gave me the go ahead, but we've got to move quick if we're going to catch up with those boys. Even though they left last night, there's no telling where they could be now, as we so politely found out," the words parted his lips and dripping with sarcasm as he gestured towards the newspaper.
"Wait, but isn't this town east of here? So shouldn't the boys be here by now?" Hughes questioned, adjusting his glasses. "Unless you're acting out of pure instinct or whatever it is you call it," he muttered with a roll of the eyes.
"There's a reason why it's taken those two so long to get here; they were either held back by injuries, or they've changed course. Now Landon is approximately ten kilometers to the east, which means that if they started walking last night—"
"They would've made it into town by now, and no less would be staying at this inn judging its the only one here," Maes finished the onyx-eyed man's theory. "We should check with the front desk, just to make sure they didn't check in when we weren't looking?."
"Even though it's highly unlikely, I guess we shouldn't chance it. While I'm looking in on it, you two go get our things. We're leaving regardless if the boys are here or not," Mustang ordered in his usual fashion, his authority outranking everyone including himself. "We'll take the way into town out, and use it to get to Landon."
"Hey, shouldn't I be the one to ask the questions around here? I mean, after all, I am with the investigations bureau, right?" Hughes queried with a wink, immediately getting shot down by the other man.
"I'll meet you two outside in ten minutes. Be ready."
With his orders given, he made his way over to the front desk, already knowing the answer to the question he was about to ask the woman. Whatever trouble those boys had gotten themselves into now involved a deceased doctor, one that Mustang knew of all people, and who knew what else. He only hoped that things couldn't get any worse, because if they did, he only wondered who'd still be alive afterward.
&&&&&
"You need to rest, Ed. We've been walking all night," Al's voice made it through the smaller boy's ears, though his thoughts were waiting for him in Renégauld. "Brother? Ed, are you listening to me?" the faint voice came again, the blonde's eyes heavily lidded as he continued to walk, not wanting to give into the pain or the sleep that was creeping through his body.
"I'm not deaf, Al. Trust me, I can hear you," he muttered, continuing to limp on. He felt sick, exhausted, and surprisingly full, Al having nearly stuffed a few rolls down his throat before they left Landon. The food stayed in his stomach, making him feel weighted down, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake the feeling. Needless to say, he felt like shit.
Sweat trickled down his forehead in steady streams, the twelve year old actually thankful the temperature had finally started to warm up. After the last trek they made, the cold nearly killed him. At least now he wasn't shivering so badly. He peered up at the sky through his golden strands, the sun peeking out through the thick clouds every so often.
The pain in his leg had subsided for the most part, though the ache that had settled in it still refused to leave. He grimaced when he took certain steps, sporadic bursts of what could only be described as electricity shooting through his muscle and tendons. And with every wince or expression of being hurt, he knew Al witnessed all of it, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about which only pissed him off all the more.
His mind was clouded, his thoughts confused. But the road they were on he was sure of, and the ghost of a chance that continued to haunt his very being was right by his side, like a faithful shadow always should be. His mental state was one thing; his appearance, a complete other. Luckily for him, his pants were in one piece, thanks to the spare pair he was finally able to change into. Though the material still clung to his wound now and then, it was far better than the other pair that had to be discarded when they'd reached Landon. His jacket was still missing a piece at the bottom, and the dirt had been washed off as best as Alphonse could do in the sink at Dr. Hocram's office. And even though he was fully clothed, most passersby were unable to tell what was hidden underneath all of the thick material.
But it was apparent in his face. Deathly apparent.
His golden orbs appeared much larger than what they actually were, the skin around his eyes drawing back to make room for the dark bags that were now a feature on his unfortunate youthful visage. He looked worn and weary, his golden locks even taking on a dull pallor, completely opposite of the vibrant golden strands that had once graced his cherubic face. He was fading into the notion of oblivion, the quiet obsession he held for the Stone rotting his soul, bit by bit.
He wanted to drop so badly, to just lie on the forest floor and sleep for as long as he could get away with, but he knew he couldn't do that. For one, it wouldn't be comfortable, and secondly, it would only slow them down. And at the moment in his one-track mind, he couldn't afford to lose anymore time that he already had, the twelve year old not even able to remember how long it had been since they left Central. Either way, he was sure Mustang had caught on by now, a thought he wished had slipped past him.
The blonde felt a cough arise in his throat and as much as he tried to hold it back, it escaped the confines of his throat, his jaw cracking open. Acid burned the sensitive tissue in his esophagus, the small portion of food he had consumed threatening to come back up, whether he liked it or not. The force of it made him stop walking, causing Al to bump directly into the preteen and knock him straight to the ground. He landed with a faint thud, too weak to push himself back up.
"Brother!" the immediate dawn of an apology began to emanate from the steel suit, he automatically bending down to give his older brother a helping hand. "I'm so sorry—"
"Save it," Edward mumbled through grit teeth, his whole body trembling as he struggled to push himself up. Weakness flooded his nerves and muscles, making him try even harder to at least make it up into a push-up position.
"But Ed-"
"I said save it!" he shouted, the strength and anger in his voice surprising both himself and his little brother. He felt spittle fly from his parted lips, but the stubbornness that infiltrated his system forced the boy to continue his struggle, his arms shaking with each breath. Sweat fell from his face and landed on the earth's floor as he painstakingly made it up to his knees, the urge to collapse right back down again not too far behind. His breaths were ragged, his shoulders rising and falling as he tried to take in as much air as he could. His head hung, stringy strands of blonde locks falling his in face and guarding his eyes.
"You know, Ed, I used to think your stubbornness was a good quality, no matter how many times you got on my nerves. But now, I think I'm starting to change my mind. You don't have to do this, Ed!" Alphonse tried to reason, staring down at the twelve year old alchemist that was still too weak to stand on his own two feet.
"Don't forget who the older brother is here," Edward stated, mustering up enough energy to stand. His flesh leg felt like it weighed just as much as the metallic one, only making things harder. He staggered a bit, finally regaining his balance. He stood still for a moment, long enough to catch his breath, only to have Al's ire-filled voice meet his ears.
"Then start acting like it for once, Edward!" the shout came, the soul-filled eyes that held possession of the metallic suit flickering with anger. "You have to stop this!"
"Stop what?" Ed shot back, feeling more than a bit dizzy as his head shot up, looking straight into the windows of his brother's soul.
"Stop acting like—like you're obsessed!" the remark came from the younger boy, exasperation more than apparent in his tone as he threw his gauntlets in the air in a gesture of the frustration he was feeling.
The twelve year old couldn't help but let out a laugh when he heard this, the thought simply oblivious to his ears. "Obsessed? You call me wanting to find the stone so you can get your body back, obsessed?" the smaller boy asked, downright appalled, his brow narrowing.
"Yes! Don't you see what you're doing to yourself? Ed, you look terrible," Alphonse stated as honestly as he could. "You're—you're starting to scare me," the younger boy added, his helmet shifting downwards.
"Scare you?" the State Alchemist questioned, the bags underneath his eyes bringing out the weight of the situation even more. "You always were afraid of the littlest things," he muttered, folding his arms.
The eleven year old didn't understand why he did what he did next, the comprehending part of his soul apparently vanishing in the instant he pushed his older brother to the ground. It was as though every bit of self-control he had managed to hold onto for the past two years dissipated right before his soul-filled eyes, his gauntlets seemingly moving by themselves. He watched in near mortification as Edward was shoved back quite a few feet, landing on his side in a heap. The younger boy immediately went to help him up, his words stuttering together as he tried to say he was sorry, but was refused with a shaking hand controlled by his older brother, once again refusing help of any kind whatsoever.
"Ed, I didn't—"
Lightning flashed across the treetops, streaking through the sky at a speed neither boy could truly understand. Thunder followed it almost immediately, crackling in its wake. The heavens opened, releasing a torrent of transparent rain that pounded against the ground, actually making the older boy's skin tingle as he attempted to regain his balance once more. His black boots slipped on the wet ground, but his determination went unhinged. His head hung, just as the hair in his face did, completely shielding him from Alphonse's seemingly saddened stare.
"I told you...I'll do whatever it takes to get you your body back," he finally spoke, his head still bowed, unable to meet the pair of eyes that would be crying if it were at all possible. "And the sooner we find the answer, the better," he stated, his tone laced with a trace of the cynicism that would later become his trademark. "But I'll go through whatever I have to to make you whole again, Al. And no matter how many times I'm refused the truth, I'll keep looking if it means I'm one step closer to ending this mess that I've created. Don't forget who's idea it was in the first place."
Slowly, he raised his head, rain streaking down his sunken cheeks. The dark circles that encased his eyes were magnified tenfold as lightning brightened the darkened sky once more, the younger boy almost convinced that there were tears mixed in with the rain. But his brother's voice did not shake or falter once during speaking, therefore, making him think otherwise.
"But, Ed, I was there too, you know," the eleven year old reminded the slightly older boy, still hesitant to come anywhere near his brother. "I could've stopped you. I could've done something..."
"You couldn't have stopped me if you'd tried, Al," the twelve year old said truthfully, his voice only echoing the regret in his tone. "I was dead set on bringing her back, and that was the only thing I could think about, getting her back so you wouldn't be so sad and we wouldn't have to miss her anymore. But I did it out of selfishness. It was what I wanted."
"I wanted it too, Brother, and you know that!" Al tried once more to rectify his part of the equation, desperately trying to make the other boy see that it wasn't wholly his fault. But convincing a stubborn person wasn't exactly the easiest task to undertake.
"But you knew better, Al! You knew we shouldn't have been doing it, but I forced you to," Edward admitted, the thunderstorm beginning to lighten to a shower, but the boy paid no attention to his surroundings. He was too focused on the guilt that had snaked its way through his veins and made a home in his heart.
"Forced me to what, Ed? I made that decision on my own! I went along with with you anyway! I said yes too! Don't you forget that!" the sudden pained yell came from the younger boy, his voice breaking at the last statement.
"I forced you into believing that we'd be able to get Mom back. I put the thought in your head and you believed me! Don't you see, Al? This is my responsibility, and I won't rest until I make things right again!" the words tumbled out of the weary boy's mouth, tears brimming at his eyes. But he would not them fall today. He was sick of crying, sick of the continuous cycle of tears that circulated through his system.
"Brother, if you don't stop and take a good look at what you're doing, then you'll kill yourself before I ever get my body back! Is that what you want? Is it?" the boy channeled his pain through his voice, it falling on the ears of one too familiar with the feeling.
"Of course it's not," Edward immediately answered, involuntarily swaying as he spoke. "But look at you, Al, you're a heap of steel," the boy joked, signs of severe fatigue plaguing his movements and speech. "When you touch something, you can't even feel it, right?" he asked, a half-hearted smile parting his lips, his golden orbs overshadowed by a fear Alphonse couldn't quite comprehend. "It's just like a dull weight, an absolute feeling of numbness even though you know something's physically there. Right?" he questioned, faint rays of the sun now parting through the clouds and dimly skimming the top of the boy's head, pulling a tiny bit of the dullness out of his golden strands.
Al didn't want to answer the question, especially if Edward already knew the answer. And now did not exactly seem like the right time to humor the boy, who appeared to be on the verge of passing out, more than likely due to the constant physical strain he refused to stop putting on his body.
"Yes, but—"
"Exactly. And that's why, I have to feel for the both of us, Al. Don't you get it?" he queried, his head tilting to one side, the twelve year old obviously falling into a delusional state. "This," he stated, gesturing to the mechanical limbs he depended on. "This is nothing compared to what you're going through. I still have a body, I'm still made out of flesh and blood, but you're not. And I promise, I'll get you back, Al. But please don't hold me back, not like the others. They just don't want..." his voice trailed off as the sleep he so desperately needed came to drift over him, his body slowly collapsing as his words faded.
The younger boy caught him this time before he could fall to the ground, easily hoisting him up in his steel arms. Edward was right, he couldn't feel anything but a quiet numbness that had captured his soul and encased it, feeling nothing but the few emotions that were still allowed to pass through his system.
"Why do you have to be so stubborn?" Alphonse muttered, breathless sobs escaping his body of armor. "Why, Ed? I may be just a hallow suit of metal, but I can still feel sad, even helpless, and that's exactly how you're making me feel now," the air-light whisper emanated from the steel, his metal gauntlets shaking slightly. "Please don't die on me," he pleaded, moving the smaller boy to a more comfortable position(if you could call it that), onto his back, making sure he had a good grip on the smaller boy.
"Don't be stupid, Al, I'd never do that to you," he muttered sleepily, his cheek resting on the cool metal that made up the younger one's shoulder. "I won't ever leave you." And with that, he drifted back off into a sleep filled with unwanted dreams, leaving his brother to choose what path to take. A decision the younger boy did not want to be faced with, Central looking more and more like the right choice the further they continued on.
The eleven year old stood in silence for a moment, his head bowed in thought. He wanted nothing more than to feel the warmth that was emanating off his older brother's body at the moment, just to truly feel his chest rising and falling as he took a breath. If he turned back towards Central, they would have come all this way for nothing, and everything that Ed was experiencing would have been a fool's suffering. And that was the last thing Alphonse wanted. But if he continued forward, there was no telling what could happen, and even though worse things were possible, if he didn't take the chance...
But can Ed handle it?
The thought rattled him, he not liking the unsettling feeling that was burrowing deep within his soul. It was the same feeling he felt that day. And he saw what the affect of not doing nothing had.
But what if things are different this time?
The ongoing battle that waged within him was stirring again, his helmet looking back and forth between his two choices.
What if we really are onto something this time?
The one thing he hated most he was doing at the moment. The eleven year old loathed questioning himself, an aspect of his personality he just couldn't shake. Taking a good look at the two hands that were draped carelessly around his large metal shoulders, he made up his mind. Peering up at the sun that had managed to make a small hole in the grey clouds, he started to walk, dreams of being flesh and blood once again confiscating his ghost.
&&&&&
Three pairs of eyes watched the suit of armor make its way through the underbrush, keeping very keen observation on the eleven year old and his unconscious brother.
The shortest of the three moved forward, ready to strike, but a firm hand grabbed his shoulder in just a nick of time.
"No, Gluttony, not yet," Lust ordered quietly in his ear, her hand still planted firmly on him. "We're just supposed to be watching right now. There'll be time for that later."
"We're only going to watch them for a little while," Envy stated, dark eyes slit in anger. "I can only take watching these pathetic brats for so long. If we didn't need them, I would've killed them already. Especially the older one. Pipsqueak."
"Now, now, Envy, you're not jealous, are you?" the throaty voice came, a grin creeping over the black-haired homunculus' face.
"Jealous? Jealous?" the venom-filled words ejected from the other homunculus' mouth, its eyebrows narrowing. "I could never be jealous of those filthy little twats." A grin erased the anger that had captivated its face. "Those two don't even know what's coming."
"Come on. We'd better get moving or we'll lose him," Lust reminded them, determination set in her soulless eyes. They had their orders, now all they had to do was carry them out. If fate would permit it, that is.
Author's note : Not as long as the last few, but hopefully just as effective. I cannot say it enough. THANK YOU all so much for your reviews and support. They mean the world to me, and only make me want to write even more. I really, truly appreciate it. So many, many THANKS goes to Zion, Mistress of Darkness, BlackHalliwell, Niver, Roy-Fan-33, hyperdude, Aemilia Rose, DarkAmber112, Akamori-chan, Legendary Chimera, Lyemi, JChrys, Hitokiri Musei, ssj2raider, ThePatheticWriter, Suiren-san, Night Fox Hiten, Harryswoman, demon thing, CrystalMind, and all of you who have been so kind to put me on one of your list of faves. Thank you all so much, and I only hope this chapter sufficed. Sorry Al lost it, but it was bound to happen, right?
Expect a horror one-shot to come in light of Friday the 13th, and Halloween. ; )