A/N: Still not mine. Save for the crack and tinhat, naturally. Did anyone say that I was nice to the characters? Can't be... Fortunately, it was Jossed today. Hugs all around!
ETA: I finally got the last bit I had prewritten as of 101 edited just after reading Chapter 103, so excuse me while I do an extended "Mei and Scar are awesome!" squee with an extra scoop of Royai and Denny/Maria. Crack is always fun when you can see just how wrong and how right you were.
"Not the one I was expecting," the father of the Homunculi said as the dark-skinned man fell to the floor in front of them. "But he'll do."
"I don't think that any of us'll do a thing for you, Father," Edward snarled, settling himself into a fighting stance in front of the unmoving suit of armor. "What the hell did you do to Al?"
Izumi clapped her hands together, ready to erect a wall between the pot-bellied black shadow and her former apprentices or go on a full-out attack as needed. Ed could only hope that their alchemic powers hadn't been cut off again. "And give us back Hohenheim," the shorter alchemist demanded in angry afterthought. He may not like his own father very much, but what Father had done to his human-born twin was too horrifying for Ed to consider in detail for the moment. Oh, shit. Father hadn't absorbed Al, too, had he?
"I don't know what you're talking about." The eye-filled shadow smiled, though his grin tended to drift across his body like a trapped fly in amber. "I transported him here the same as you."
"Actually, you didn't," Scar said as he rose from the floor. "Even with Hohenhiem, I think you'll find that you're still one short." He considered the creature as if wondering exactly what technique would work best to destroy it before glancing at the small State Alchemist behind him with a touch of twisted humor in those red eyes. "I saw Alphonse."
"We'll get him out," Izumi promised confidently. "Later." With that, the dreadlocked housewife moved in for the kill, the Ishvalan flanking her. As much as he wanted to protect the empty husk of metal, half-convinced that the stress of getting pulled through Father's false gate had merely caused his younger brother to faint again, Edward drew his automail wrist-plate back into the armblade and rushed past them towards the original and origin of the homunculi. They were so close… forget his arm; forget his leg; as long as they could restore Alphonse, the elder brother would be content. The next step appeared to be knocking the stuffing out of this thing that had once resembled his father, this thing that now contained his father before it could do anything to Al... Ed could not say he minded this last little detour to his salvation.
He struck, but the blackness clung to him like tar. Izumi tried to pierce it with sharply jutting rises in the floor, but Father's multitude of shadows and eyes flowed back together as quickly as it was pierced. Scar's destructive blow earned him a position no better than Ed's.
Father's maw smiled anew. "Pride is right. Brave humans really are easy to trick."
*
Havoc grabbed up the ringing phone before Fuery could reach it as the shorter man returned from the barricade, wheeling around to try to get a better look at the fuss Denny's arrival was causing at the entrance. "Radio Central, your voice of Amestris. This hour of broadcast sponsored in part by Havoc Sundries," he answered brightly, scratching in brief satisfaction at his beard as he won the latest of their little phone races.
"Havoc, we need backup and medical support. We've got wounded down here." The voice of Roy Mustang came agitatedly through on his headset.
"Sir, a scratch on your hand barely counts as a medical emergency," Hawkeye's voice was nearly as clear, making Jean wonder exactly who was wearing the headset.
"That's not what I'm worried about, Lieutenant, and you know it." Roy sounded as angry as Riza's voice was dry. "You lost a lot of blood just now; we should retreat and return for them when we have more backup."
"I'm fine, sir," Riza insisted through gritted teeth.
"Fuery?" Havoc interrupted them to call over his shoulder. "It looks like the second lieutenant will have to stay with you a while. Mommy and Daddy are fighting again." The "lieutenant" in question whined in curiosity, while Kain just sighed and shook his head, scratching the ears of the dog that lay beneath his chair as he sat back down.
"What happened, colonel? Did you find the Elrics?" Fuery asked, reaching around Jean to patch his own headset into their impromptu conference call.
Breda looked over curiously from the broadcasting booth, and Jean flashed him a thumbs-up, mouthing the word "boss." The redhead raised an eyebrow, and Havoc motioned for him to continue with Mrs. Bradley, mentally promising to fill their third coworker in as soon as they knew what was going on. It ought to make good radio, someday, even if it was only Hawkeye chewing Mustang out for whining.
"Yeah, we found Fullmetal, but then he got pulled away. I've never seen anything like it." There was a thump as Mustang hit a nearby wall in frustration. "Envy's down, at least, and Scar is…" The commanding officer's voice faded out, and Havoc trusted that it wasn't merely from radio interference. "If you see Scar, we can count him an ally."
"Wait - when you say 'Envy's down,' you mean you took down another one, sir?" Havoc spluttered, half-choking on the cigarette that he'd lit in spite of Kain's timid deterrence and warning motions towards Mrs. Bradley. Of all present in the broadcast facility turned rebel headquarters, no one understood the danger implied in such an action as the paralyzed man did.
Roy laughed, though there was more than a trace of bitterness in the sound. "I wish I had. He killed Hughes." Hawkeye cleared her throat significantly at this. "But as certain individuals have pointed out, I got… a bit out of hand when facing him. Ultimately, Envy destroyed himself. We… survived. No physical damage," the colonel reported dutifully. There was a brief, whispered argument that Havoc was sure they'd deny was ever an argument, even if they'd go so far as to admit that it ever happened. Riza sounded more than a little suspicious under the calm, unflappable exterior, and Roy made apologetic, repentant noises along the lines of "I know what I'm doing now, Lieutenant; it won't happen again…"
Havoc shared a glance with Fuery, cupping a hand around the mouthpiece. "Frankly, I'm beginning to agree with Maes," the gingery blond muttered. The communications officer simply smiled and pressed his glasses up his nose in silent agreement. "But what pulled away Edward, then?" Havoc asked. "Did you run into another of them?"
"Not another Homunculus, as such," Mustang replied. "But there's an alchemist on their side down here, one with a lot of homunculus rejects under his control." There was a significant pause in which Hawkeye was suspiciously quiet. "One of them nearly decapitated the lieutenant."
"There was no danger of that, sir," Hawkeye insisted, but in a manner that suggested that she hadn't been as entirely safe as she was implying. "The point, sir, is that if we want to get Edward back, we need to keep moving at a faster rate. Backup would help once we arrive, but we need to keep going while the trail is still fresh. Havoc, we'll contact you again once we know more." With that, the headset clicked off, leaving Jean with a dead line.
"It would be easier, if we could think that they simply wanted to pull each other somewhere private instead of deeper into trouble, wouldn't it?" Kain sighed, sinking back into his chair.
Jean set down the receiver and rolled towards the ammo dump. "Well, we don't have to worry us disturbing them, at least." He hefted a case of .38s, contemplating how much Hawkeye would likely have gone through and how many they might be able to spare here. "So, who was Ross's friend?"
Fuery chuckled softly. "Sometimes I think he's haunting us, but it's probably just your beard." The smaller man pulled over a case of .45s to help Havoc sort. "Brosh," he answered, still keeping his voice down. "Lieutenant Ross is attempting to explain, but she's also attempting to keep him from squeezing her into oblivion. Must have something to do with having Major Armstrong as their CO," he joked.
"The man is fond of hugs," Jean agreed, an evil gleam in his eyes.
"Well, if we run into Armstrong or his sister, we'll designate you as Official Huggee. You don't have to worry about your spine so much anymore." Kain joked.
"Don't get me wrong, if I was just getting hugs from Major-General Olivia Armstrong…" Havoc trailed off, shaking his head as he thought of the formidable blonde. Slowly, his thoughts caught up with the implied message behind the shorter man's words. "You mean you're letting me in on the action, Master Sergeant?" Havoc's smile was slightly vicious as he filled another clip. The ice-cream truck caper aside, it had been too long since he'd gotten in on the action.
"You think the colonel will let us get away with that?" Fuery asked, quirking an eyebrow.
"I am retired. Technically, it's up to me if I want to save his and Fullmetal's sorry asses." He signaled Breda to keep their hosts talking. They could pick team members on the way out, knowing that the broadcasting station was in the capable hands of their chess-master. "Be back in an hour," Jean called. "We're going to pick up more ice cream."
"There's a lockdown," Breda informed them. "We're supposed to stay in the building."
"I really need ice cream after hearing that the Fuhrer's back. How about you, Mrs. B?"
The First Lady of Amestris nodded bemusedly at the paralyzed man's offer, wiping away a relieved tear. "Salem always liked ice cream," she murmured to herself. "His favorite is raspberry…"
"We'll pick up a quart and hold it until we hear from him," Fuery promised her, though ice cream would be the last thing on their minds if the smallest and eldest homunculus really did turn up again.
"Ross, Brosh, save the love-fest for when we can get the cameras. Becky, Mort, Craig, get your groups, you're with me and Kain. We've got two State Alchemists and an annoyed sniper to rescue," Jean barked, a veritable weapons cache hidden in every spare inch his wheelchair could stand. As embarrassing as it might be, he was glad that Fuery was helping to push. The short, dark-eyed man had a box or two slung in the bag he was carrying himself, and that was heavy enough.
Hopefully, Hawkeye and Mustang weren't alone down there. Havoc would hate for one of Central's dogs or Armstrong's bears to break them apart before he could even catch them together, and homunculus rejects would at least keep them otherwise occupied.
*