Thanks to everyone who reviewed (including Planets – I'm glad you like the story so far!)
To I Am The 1st Alchemist: I was well aware of what I was writing. I just wanted to mean that Havoc isn't the sharpest-minded out of Roy's subordinates; physically he's one of the best, I think. I might get around to fixing that. Maybe. :)
StormAlchemist677: Just you wait. ^^
Sonar: Oh, is it? I'll have to fix it when I get the time. Thanks for pointing that out! I'm glad you find it 'all right'. :D
Sharper Than the Sword: Heh, I wasn't all that creative with Livingston's name. I might edit that if I ever get any better ideas.
Notes: I knew that took ages to update. Sorry. Really. I had school, and we had a really tough month… Long, long story. I had a hard time figuring out the order of events… You'll see. I hope you enjoy the chapter.
Chapter Two
"Lieutenant, are you sure you're fine with having me over?"
"Don't be ridiculous, sir." Riza didn't take her eyes off the road. "I don't even want to think of what would happen if I let you go home by yourself in your state." Which was a reasonable thing for her to say. Roy could barely walk on his own, for his nausea and headache was so bad. He'd barely made it to Riza's car. She wasn't happy that the doctors had discharged Roy from the hospital, but she had volunteered to take him home with her. She doubted how well Havoc or Breda would be able to take care of him, and Fuery as well as Falman, were in the dormitories. Riza was obviously the best choice for Roy.
"W-whatever you say." He tried not to make it too obvious that he was fighting the urge to vomit into the leather seats of Riza's car.
He rushed to the bathroom as soon as they arrived at her apartment, and threw up into the toilet. Gratefully, he accepted the cup of tea Riza had made for him, only to have to go to the washroom again. Both of them agreed it was best for Roy not to eat or drink anything for the time being. He decided to just lie down on the couch instead of attempting to do anything.
Riza brought him a blanket, with Black Hayate trotting along at her heels. She looked at Roy's sickly white face with concern. "Sir… what did the doctors say your illness was?"
"I don't know… they don't, either…" Roy passed a hand over his face. "They think it has something to do with the eye, though."
"Livingston's chemical?" Riza inquired.
"Probably." he sighed. "That bastard. He screwed me up pretty bad. He's in prison, right?"
"For the time being, he's being treated at the hospital. He'll be put on trial as soon as he recovers." Roy nodded at that. There was a moment of silence before Riza spoke again. "How's your eye, Colonel?"
"Doesn't hurt anymore. How does it look?"
Riza leaned in to see. "Ordinary, sir."
"That's good." His eye was the strangest thing. It seemed completely undamaged; the doctors were baffled. Several claimed that when he was first brought into the hospital the eye had been a bloody mess. Now it was as good as new… But not quite so. Roy had found that there were times when his eye changed colour. Usually it stayed its normal hue, black. Sometimes it would look brown. Occasionally, it turned gold. That was always accompanied by throbbing aches, no matter how much painkiller he took. The doctors had no explanation for it. It seemed to frighten them. Roy kept in mind that Robert Livingston was the only person he could ask for information on his peculiar condition. The alchemist had obviously known what he was doing when he threw that test tube at him. And what had he meant when he said that Roy would be able to 'see things that he never knew even existed'? Roy wasn't sure if he wanted to find out.
"Why don't you have a rest, sir." Riza interrupted his train of thoughts. It was more of a command than a question.
"Yeah, I will. Thanks for everything, Lieutenant." Roy fell asleep as soon as he put his head down onto the cushions.
fmaFMAFMAFMAfma
A week later.
The weather was beginning to cool, the sweltering heat of the summer fading. Already leaves on the trees were starting to go yellow and orange, reminding Roy of how fast time was passing. He was back in his office, having almost completely recovered from his ordeals in the week before. To be frank, it annoyed him and it frightened him. He knew that something wasn't right with himself. HE didn't quite feel normal. For one thing, his eye was aching constantly, and Roy was sure he was seeing strange shadows in the streets, particularly at night. No one else seemed to notice anything.
Sighing, Roy put his elbows on the table, propping up his chin on his hands. He hadn't been at work in a while, and his lack of activity had taken its toll on him. It was only one o'clock, and he was already exhausted… Havoc and Breda were carrying out their duties elsewhere, Fuery and Falman working quietly, and Riza was reading through some papers in a chair near Roy's desk. He glared at the stack of papers in front of him, lifted his pen and began to scribble out his signature when there was a sudden knocking on the door of his office. It sounded unusually loud, as if the person's knuckles were made of… metal.
"Yes?" Roy barked, annoyed, and with a good idea of who it was. "What is it?"
"Colonel-!" The door burst open, revealing a smallish blonde boy and a large armored figure behind him.
Another sigh escaped Roy's lips. "What brings you back to Central, Fullmetal? I thought you and Alphonse were travelling…"
"Jeez, what's with that look on your face?" Edward Elric grumbled as he came stomping inside. Alphonse timidly followed him, his footsteps echoing loudly through the office. "We had some business to attend to, and Alphonse said that we should come see you."
"For what? I have enough work on my hands, Fullmetal. I haven't had the best week. Come back later."
"You kidding me, Colonel?" Ed said, coming up to his desk. "Al and I came all the way here to ask you something, and you just tell us to leave – "
"What is it?" Roy rubbed his temples. Ah, shit, his eye was aching again. The damned thing… but he was almost used to it now.
"Well, there's this place we'd like to get into – we might find something interesting there, but we need permission from a superior officer…" The word 'superior' came out as if it was a wad of spit, and Roy smirked. "We need you to sign a slip for us."
"A slip? Fine, only if you return the 700 cenz you borrowed from me last month."
"I don't have any money!" Edward said through gritted teeth, obviously not wanting to admit the fact. "If I did, Al and I would be in a nice hotel right now…"
"Are you saying you have no place to stay while you're here?"
Alphonse butted in, seeing his brother fume and go a deep red with embarrassment. "Well, actually, sir – "
They were interrupted by once again a loud pounding on the door. Before Roy could call whoever it was in, a young soldier, a private, judging by the single stripe on his shoulder, came tumbling in.
"What's this?" Roy inquired, his eyebrow raised at the panting man. Edward and Alphonse, as well as Riza, Fuery and Falman, turned to look at him.
The soldier looked frightened. Was it because of the six pairs of eyes fixed on him, a lowly private? He probably wasn't used to all the attention. He raised his hand in a hasty salute. "Colonel Mustang – I'm very sorry for coming in like this – "
Roy waved his hand. "Never mind that. What is it?"
"Robert Livingston, sir – he did something to the guards – and he says that he wants to talk to you – "
"What happened?" Mustang stood up, his brow furrowing immediately. "Is Livingston still secure? Explain!"
"I – I don't really know, sir… He's in one of the cells in the basement – "
"Shit," Roy muttered, forgetting about appearing dignified in front of the private. He looked to Riza and said, "We're going down, Lieutenant." Roy looked over to Fuery and Falman as well. "You two are coming too. Now."
"Yes, sir." Riza drew her pistol and loaded it as Roy fumbled for his gloves.
Edward, not liking that he was being completely ignored, came up to Roy and said loudly, "Co-lonel? What's going on here? Who the heck's this Livingston guy? Where're you going?"
"I don't have time for this, Fullmetal." Mustang shot the boy a dark look. "Be quiet and wait here. I'll explain later; something very bad might be happening downstairs. I suggest that you let me get on with this." Without waiting for the boys to agree, Roy strode past them and pulled on his gloves as he went.
Both of them, Ed saw.
Riza, Fuery and Falman went after Mustang, none of them giving Ed and Al the slightest notice.
After a moment's hesitation, Edward grabbed Alphonse by the iron arm and followed the soldiers. He wanted to know what was going on. Who was this Livingston person? Why did he make Mustang so anxious? The colonel bastard was always supposed to be calm and collected. Something wasn't right.
Edward had no idea that Roy, right now, was absolutely terrified.
fmaFMAFMAFMAfma
Mustang grabbed Livingston by the collar, and shouted, "What the fuck have you done?" He barely felt Riza's restraining hand on his shoulder. "What have you done?"
Two guards lay at his feet. They could have looked as if they were asleep, save for the fact that their eyes were wide open and unstaring. Fuery had checked. Neither of them were breathing.
Falman also tried to pull Roy back. "Colonel, please – "
The Livingston bastard was smiling unpleasantly. Roy was seeing his face properly for the first time. He had longish blonde hair, with stubble of the same colour bristling on his jaw, sharp cheekbones, and startlingly, eyes that were an unnatural shade of dark orange. It gave Roy a sense of foreboding, reminding him of his own golden iris. He remembered Livingston saying that he'd 'given himself an overdose'. Could that have something to do with it?
"Wow, Colonel, you're getting aggressive. I wish you'd take your hands off me." Livingston said in a jovial voice.
In reply, Roy punched him in the face. Fuery moaned something from behind him, and Riza gripped his shoulder, but he took no notice. "Shut up, Livingston. Shut up."
"Look, Mustang, if you get so worked up, your eye's gonna adjust again. And that might scare someone."
Roy stopped. "Adjust?"
"Yeah. You know, shift gears so that you can see things?"
Roy felt his heart skip a beat. His eyes narrowed. "What?"
Livingston just shrugged. "Look, don't do that. Squinting makes it happen even if you don't want it to."
Roy tightened his grip on him, and breathed, "What the hell did you do to me? Tell me. Everything." Riza's fingers tightened on his shoulder; he barely felt her nails digging into him.
"Whoa, Colonel, there's no rush. We have a lot of time on our hands, don't we? Why don't you just get me out of this stinking prison and we can talk this over?"
Mustang gritted his teeth and felt like beating the bastard to a pulp when he felt something cold and hard catching his arm in an inhumanly strong grip. It squeezed him so hard, as if to break his wrist. He looked around to see what it was.
Ah, it was the Fullmetal kid.
"Stop it!" Edward yelled, pulling at his arm. "Stop!"
"Let go of me, Fullmetal – " Roy snarled, but the scene behind him made him falter. His subordinates were looking on with expressions of utter astonishment on their faces – with Riza, it was something more like disappointment. The rage left his limbs; Ed, sensing it, slowly released his arm. Mustang took several steadying breaths, and turned back to Livingston. "I'm going to take you to the interrogation room. You can explain a few things to me there."
Livingston grinned, as if satisfied. "That's a good idea, Colonel."
fmaFMAFMAFMAfma
"The fucking bastard." Mustang was still fuming, in his office, two hours after the incident.
From beside him, Hawkeye gave him a rebuking glance. "Colonel, please watch your language."
Roy, in his obvious rage, clenched and unclenched his gloved fists. "I… just… I just want to kill the bastard."
"Language, sir."
"Okay, I got it!" Roy snapped. A moment later, as if realizing what he'd just done, turned back to her and said in a quieter tone, "I'm sorry, Lieutenant."
Riza replied with some relief, "It's all right, sir."
"But Livingston…"
They both fell silent. Roy stared at the wood of his desk, trying to blink away the throbbing in his eye. It angered him. It was a constant reminder of Livingston, quite possibly the man he hated most in this world at the moment. Riza kept her gaze fixed on her superior, hoping his temper would stay in check. She knew that he'd been edgy since the accident in Livingston's mansion – although his only injury had been the eye, it hadn't seemed to be a normal one. Riza had noticed it shift colour as soon as he was discharged from the hospital. Livingston had only confirmed her suspicions.
"Colonel Mustang, I was always interested in you," he'd said. "You're one of the powerful ones, aren't you? Out of the State Alchemists. I've been watching you for a while… I decided you'd be a good candidate for my little experiment."
Riza had never seen Roy in such a fit of rage before. For whatever reason, Livingston seemed to aggravate Mustang more than any other criminal. Perhaps the fact that Livingston had sprayed a dangerous chemical into his eye and put two guards into a coma had something to do with it. Even in the interrogation room she had to restrain Roy from setting Livingston on fire. The criminal's casual, disrespectful attitude didn't help matters. He talked to Mustang like he would do to an old friend.
"Just tell me what you did to me, scumbag," Roy's voice had been a low hiss.
"It's pretty simple. You'll find out pretty soon, when the effects of my solution kick in. Tell me what you see next time you pay me a visit." It had left Roy even more frustrated than before; he hated that this obviously insane man knew more about his condition than he did. He just wanted to know what was wrong with him. What had happened to him? Yet Livingston couldn't give him a single damn straight answer.
When the interrogation had ended Roy knew no more that when he'd started. It infuriated him.
To make matters worse, Edward and even Alphonse Elric were demanding to know what was going on. Roy had managed to get them out of his office for the time being, but he was expecting them to be back tomorrow. What was he going to tell them? He had no desire to let the boys in on his troubles and the Livingston incident. They had enough on their minds…
"Colonel Mustang, sir?" Hawkeye said gently, interrupting his thoughts. "Do you think… perhaps you'd like a cup of tea?"
He nodded gratefully. "Sure, why not. Thanks, Lieutenant." Roy glanced at his watch. He was going to be working late tonight; the interrogation had taken too much of his precious time.
A few hours of paperwork later, Hawkeye spoke to him. "Sir… I have some business to attend to; would you mind if I – "
"No, it's fine. You're dismissed." Roy waved his hand. "I'll see you tomorrow."
Riza snapped to attention. "Yes, sir."
The office was quiet, almost eerie, with Riza gone. Mustang sighed and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. It was seven o'clock… already the streets were blanketed in darkness. Picking up his fountain pen once more, Roy began signing his name on another document. R-O-Y. The sound of his pen scratching across the paper seemed so loud. He began to spell out his last name. He only got as far as 'T' when a sudden noise startled him. It sounded like the sound of nails scrabbling on the wooden floor.
Roy looked up and squinted into the dimness. The only light that was on was his desk lamp. He couldn't see much. "Black Hayate? Is that you?" He called out. Nothing answered; Mustang had been hoping to hear the familiar yaps from the little black dog. Hayate always answered to his name. This wasn't him.
The back of his neck prickling, Roy put down his pen and slowly stood up. "Hello?" There was only a suffocating silence. Roy scanned the room carefully, searching for any sign of movement – it was then there was a sudden flash of something, as if an animal had dashed by with incredible speed. He didn't know why, but Mustang felt oddly chilled. Afraid. He went to the other end of the room, and glanced at the door, frowning. He knew he'd seen Riza close it. He was sure of it. But why was it hanging open, then? Roy pushed it open and took a look in the hall. Again, he saw nothing.
"I'm just being an idiot…" He muttered to himself, shaking his head; he turned back inside, closing the door behind him.
A split second later, there was only chaos.
Roy was on the floor. There was something on top of him; something large, furry and vicious. And loud. The cold, calculating side of Roy's brain was wondering why no one could hear the racket – an ear-shattering screeching and wailing that sounded like a hundred stuck pigs. It was the size of a large dog, judging by the weight of it. The thing was clinging onto Roy's uniform, clawing wildly at his chest and shoulders; luckily the fabric was tough and his neck was yet untouched. Mustang desperately grasped at the creature, trying to pry it off, but it stubbornly stayed rooted to his jacket. It took a swipe at Roy's face, its claw slicing open a cut from temple to jaw. The white-hot pain spurred Mustang into action – he shoved in his arm between himself and the creature, and slammed it to the floor, putting all his weight on it at the same time. There was a shrill screaming noise; Roy was finally able to wrench the thing off. Not wasting any time, he pulled on his alchemic glove.
Before he toasted the creature, he took a moment to observe it. It surprised him all over again, for it was nothing like he'd ever seen before – it was like a wolf, only extremely skinny, with an oversized head and jaws; Roy was horrified when he saw that the thing had crimson eyes. It had opened them again, and was slobbering, preparing to leap for Mustang's throat – before it could do so Roy snapped his fingers.
With a satisfying scream, the creature burned.
Roy breathed a sigh of relief and wiped off the blood that had streamed down his face. He winced. The cut stung. Muttering more curses – his mouth had gotten dirty lately – Roy looked back at the creature. It was his turn to yell.
It wasn't dead. It wasn't even dying. In fact, it was advancing towards him again, even with its grey fur flaming brightly – it didn't seem to be feeling the agony of being on fire.
"What the hell are you?" Roy shouted at it, not really expecting it to answer him. "Why the fuck are you trying to eat me?!" What was this thing?
In reply, it came running at him. At the same moment, Mustang had made his decision. He dashed for it. He knew where he was headed – down to the prisons, where he'd be able to find Robert Livingston. Behind him, he heard the creature storming after him with a frightening speed. With this on his tail, Livingston would have to give him some answers. Mustang sensed that the man might know what to make of this entire bizarre situation. As much as he hated Livingston, Roy knew that he needed help.
Or, perhaps he'd at least teach him how to get rid of this stupid roasted animal?
TBC.