A/N: Okay, there will be one more side story before I get started on the second book, I promise. This wasn't the one I had planned, but I need a break from that one (it's hard to write, okay?), so I figured I'd post this since I found it and finished writing it last night.
You might recall in chapter, uh, four maybe? of The Path of Flame that Harry mentioned being kidnapped once. This is the kidnapping. Plus bonus irritable Ed! I guess technically this is set during the series, but don't ask me when.
Title is taken from the lyrics of Low Man's Lyric by Metallica.
Warnings: Violence, death, and cursing. Hey, this is a good one!
Disclaimer: I own nooooothing.
Summary: Roy's son is kidnapped. (Edward doesn't know this, but he's irritated anyway.)
Wicked and Worn
Roy is never having one of the corporals pick up Harry again. Honestly, he doesn't even know what he was thinking in the first place; as busy as they were, surely he could have spared even Fuery or Falman for such a task? At least he knew they were both reliable, not to mention one hundred percent loyal to him instead of whatever group had managed to get their hands on his son. If anything happened to Harry, he was never going to forgive himself. He couldn't even concentrate as it was. They'd been trying to find him for hours already, with no luck yet, and his mind had finally given up to instead run in shrill panicked circles. His feet were taking him in a similar route, pacing the edges of the rug laid out in front of the fireplace while he wished futilely for a reason to be running the streets instead.
"Sir," Hawkeye's always-professional voice interrupted his thoughts, and he came to a halt mid-step in surprise as he looked over toward the door of his office. He hadn't even heard her knocking.
"Have you found him?" Roy asked urgently, forcing himself not to feel any hope. To his surprise, Hawkeye gave him a slim smile, a cold light in her eyes that made Roy's heart pick up speed in anticipation.
"Yes, sir," she said without emotion. "A team has cornered the kidnappers in a warehouse on the far side of town, and they have called in a list of demands to be delivered in no less than an hour. I've already taken the liberty of calling a car for you."
"Have you gathered what they want?" Roy asked.
"No, sir," Hawkeye said.
Roy smiled grimly. "Good."
They made it across town in record time, skidding to a halt in front of the warehouse in question with probably more noise than was wise. Undeterred, Roy jumped out of the car as it was still stopping, and glared impatiently at the major waiting for him. The woman in question straightened her spine and gave him a perfunctory salute.
"Sir!" she said. "The kidnappers are on the first floor of the warehouse and appear to be getting impatient. They haven't made any further demands, but they're threatening to shoot the boy if nobody delivers what they want soon. What are your orders?"
"You and your men are to stay out here unless I command otherwise," Roy said, fitfully tugging at his gloves to make sure they were ready for a fight. He could hear Hawkeye assembling a rifle behind him, and he smiled grimly at the major's surprised look. "I'm afraid we won't be meeting their demands this evening."
"Is this wise, sir?" the major asked, less timidly than Roy would have expected her to. He gave her a reassuring grin, and made a mental note to give her a raise.
"Are you ready, lieutenant?" he asked over his shoulder, still smiling as he looked at Hawkeye.
"Ready, sir," Hawkeye replied, clicking the last piece of rifle into place.
The two of them approached the warehouse far more silently than should have been possible in combat boots; Roy gestured to the slightly open door, and Hawkeye ghosted over to it with her weapon pointed in front of her. Once she gestured back the "all's well" sign, he strolled over himself and poked a wary head inside. The open floor was packed with rotting boxes, and there was a heavy layer of dust covering the floor as if nobody had entered the building in years. Marring the surface was a trail of bootprints, which overlapped each other in a way that made it impossible to tell how many people there were in the uncertain light.
Roy entered the warehouse anyway, carefully following the trail. Hawkeye trailed him silently. They walked until the faint murmuring they'd been hearing resolved into actual words. The kidnappers' impatience was clearly wearing tempers thin; two of them were arguing about what to do with Harry, if they should kill him and be done with it, or wait the full hour for their demands to be met.
Roy made to peer around the box he and Hawkeye were hiding behind, but his lieutenant drew him back with a sharp look and stepped in front of him herself. She ducked back down quickly, turning to Roy and sending him quick gestures; three men, all of them armed, and none of them standing beside Harry. Roy nodded seriously and gestured for her to give them a warning.
Hawkeye lined up a careful shot, and ducked back behind the box in a second. There were loud exclamations from the kidnappers as they shot in their direction, but neither of them were hit; once the gunfire stopped, Roy stepped into view himself, took stock of the situation, and snapped his fingers. One man had had the sense to grab hold of Harry and hold his gun at the boy, so Roy aimed for his weapon first. He dropped it to the floor with a hissed curse, but before any of the other men could respond, Hawkeye had stepped out at Roy's back again with her gun aimed. Roy gave his most frightening grin.
"Release him," he said shortly, "and you'll at least get out of here alive."
The three men shared is believing looks, and one of them moved his gun from where it was pointing at Roy to point at Harry instead. The man who'd had his weapon burnt out of his hand inched nervously for his gun, but stopped short when Hawkeye's rifle turned on him instead.
"You get one more warning," Roy snapped, anger burning deep in his gut. "Release him now!"
The third man, still pointing his weapon at Roy, laughed and said, "Are you willing to bet on which of us has the faster trigger, Colonel?"
Roy didn't need to make that bet; he already knew the answer. He made a quick gesture to Hawkeye behind his back and snapped his fingers; almost instantly, the report of Hawkeye's rifle could be heard with the snap of his alchemy. The man who had originally been threatening Harry was shot cleanly and instantly dropped, but the other two men took much longer to burn.
"Sir," Hawkeye said tightly after the bodies collapsed on the ground, burnt beyond recognition. "I think they're dead."
Roy blinked at her dumbly for a moment, then slowly let his hand down. "Noted, lieutenant," he said stiffly, then briskly stepped over to Harry.
Harry stared up at him with wide eyes, fear evident, but once Roy unwrapped his bindings, he collapsed into Roy's arms and clung to him tightly. Roy couldn't stop himself from clinging back, pulling his son as close as he could as he checked for injuries. All he found was a fairly mild case of rope burn around his wrists, but it still made Roy frown unhappily.
"I'm sorry," he said softly, kissing Harry on the head as he picked him up. "I know that was scary, but I won't ever let anything happen to you."
"Perhaps we should get him to the hospital, sir?" Hawkeye said, more of a demand than a question. If anybody else had tried that, Roy would have pulled rank instantly, but instead he just gave his oldest friend a fond smile and nodded. "I'll rearrange your schedule for tomorrow so you can take care of Harry. When would you like me to tell Edward to come in?"
"Give me a few days," Roy said softly, frowning at the mention of his youngest subordinate. It wouldn't be easy to see Fullmetal so soon after Harry was hurt; he could too easily imagine either one of the boys in the others' shoes, and would end up treating Fullmetal more leniently than normal if he wasn't careful.
xxxxx
Two fucking days! Ed kicked his way into the office with more force than normal, grumbling direly under his breath about the delay. A small part of him, the part of him he refused to listen to because it did stupid things like admire the way light sparkled in his superior officer's eyes, was concerned that Mustang was injured and hadn't been able to make it to the office, but he shoved it away. He didn't have time to be concerned about Mustang, who was probably just fucking slacking anyway, not when he had Al to think of. Especially not when the stupid man could have just sent Hawkeye or somebody out to debrief him on his latest mission instead of putting him off.
"I'm sure he had his reasons, brother," Al said timidly as Ed glared furiously at the team, but his softest voice still echoed loudly in the room. "Please don't be angry at him."
Ed gave him an impatient glare, but didn't respond because Hawkeye was getting up out of her seat to address them instead. Ed managed an almost respectful stance when facing her, because Hawkeye, like every fucking woman he cared about these days, scared the hell out of him.
"Good morning, Edward-san," Hawkeye said, even though it was twelve-thirty and quite clearly afternoon. Ed knew, because he'd done it on purpose to piss the bastard off. "Please wait here while I see if the colonel is prepared to see you."
Ed's eyebrows furrowed as he watched the lieutenant knock on Mustang's door. What the hell was that about? Usually she just nodded him through so he could kick the door in and make Mustang jump, but this time she was stepping softly into the office and speaking to Mustang in tones too low for Ed to make out. He didn't have long to figure out what was going on before Hawkeye was stepping out of the office again and giving Edward a very stern look.
"Please go in quietly, Major," she said very softly, her gaze threatening retribution if he didn't. So Ed frowned at her (never a scowl, because he didn't want to be shot), and strolled smoothly into Mustang's office.
"Have a seat, Fullmetal," Mustang greeted him, still reading a report on his desk. Ed took the moment to look the colonel over quickly, checking for any obvious signs of injury, but if there were any he couldn't see them through the uniform. The only thing he noticed was a certain tightness to Mustang's eyes that made him look strangely brittle, almost as if he was about to break down. Ed recalled that look from before his mom had died, when he and Al would stare at each other in silence as they waited for her to get better.
Almost as if he could sense the downwards turn Ed's thoughts had made, Mustang finally signed his report and looked up at Ed. Something in the man's gaze was almost gentle, and Ed scowled fiercely into it to hide his confusion.
Mustang smiled wryly at him. "Feeling a bit impatient, are we?" he asked. Bastard.
"You got something for me or not, Mustang?" Ed snapped back, every bit as impatient as the man thought. "Thought you were gonna give me something days ago; did you just put off the meeting because you didn't have anything?"
"I'm afraid I had an unavoidable matter to attend to," Mustang said dryly, but that same weird look in his eyes still hadn't gone away. "Unfortunately, this means some things must be delayed, and sometimes that includes my favorite subordinate."
"Oh, fuck off," Ed growled, rankled all over again now that Mustang was treating him like a kid. This mood didn't fall over his superior officer often, but it irritates him a little bit more every time it happens. "I know you're busy and all, but you could've had Hawkeye or someone send me the orders."
There was a very long pause.
"Do you know, that didn't even occur to me?" Mustang mused with a disconcerting grin. Ed doggedly pretended that his heart didn't stutter at the sight of it, and forced his scowl deeper. "Of course, that's not the proper way to conduct my office anyway. Contrary to what you may believe, Fullmetal, you are a part of this military, and certain procedures should be followed."
"Fine, whatever," Ed said with a roll of his eyes. "Clearly my little brother's life doesn't mean anything in comparison to your career, but it does mean something to me, so can we get on with it?"
Which made Mustang look hurt, what the hell. Something like guilt settled in, but he pushed it firmly away; he didn't have time for this shit! Thankfully, Mustang didn't seem inclined to discuss the delay further. He pulled a folder out of some mysterious pile on his desk, passing it over to Ed as if nothing was wrong. Ed snorted and flipped through it quickly. Looked like another lead for the Philosopher's Stone, so hopefully the delay hadn't made things clear up already.
Mustang nattered on about the mission like usual, telling Ed all the pertinent information as if it wasn't in the folder for Ed to read for his damn self, so Ed tuned him out as he nodded along. Eventually the indistinct murmur of Mustang's voice petered out, and he looked up impatiently.
"Is that all, then?" he asked short—quickly, because he wasn't short, dammit!—and got up as the colonel nodded. "We'll take the first train out, then. See you in a few days."
"Fullmetal," Mustang called after him, just as he was grabbing the doorknob. Ed half turned to look at his superior again, frowning impatiently. "Be careful."
Ed grunted out something that may have been an affirmative, then ducked quickly out of the office before things could get any weirder. "Be careful," what the hell, as if Ed walked into those near-fatal situations on fucking purpose!
But he couldn't shake the look on Mustang's face, the worry and fondness the man couldn't seem to hide, and he silently promised himself that, this one time, he'd listen to the colonel's orders.
A/N: Ed's head is, um, a lot easier to get into then I thought it would be? Pretty much the trick is to be constantly irritable and curse a lot, which is pretty much my default state of being anyway. So that was…cathartic. XD
