A/N: Be brave little readers...it's here...
Dark. His mind felt so foggy. Thoughts swirling and dodging him always escaping his grasp. He waited. So tired. Everything felt sluggish and his body numb. Sensation coalesced a bit more. Cold. It was cold here. Where was here? He groped for his last memories. What were they? Oh yes, he'd been going out for ice cream with someone but who? A face appeared in his mind but he just couldn't bring forth the name. Think. He had to think. His whole body began to return to him the feeling of it buzz capturing his attention like a shiny object reflecting light. He focused on the sensation with all his energy, which wasn't much, feeling as each cell of his being vibrated and tingled both pleasant and strange.
"Da…au…mail…'heavy…" the sudden appearance startled him like an electric shock. He wasn't alone. How long had he not been alone? He hadn't been alone before his memory blanked out. Perhaps that's to whom the voice so distant and distorted belonged. He felt his head loll backwards onto something soft but firm. A shoulder? His head started to clear the strange out of body tingling dissipating as well. He was moving but not of his own volition. He tried to lift his head but the world lurched around him inspiring his stomach to churn nauseatingly so he let it drop back.
"Wake…good…time…nearly…" he tried to focus on the speaker. Tried to hear what was going on but he just couldn't hear it clearly. He had to wake up more. Had to know what was going on. He could feel an iron band like grip of two strong arms encircling his chest, pulling him backwards. This wasn't right. Something was wrong. So very wrong. He started to squirm his arms and legs feeling like jelly.
"don't…'ggle…just…lay there…'joy it" the voice sounded so close now, hot fetid breath brushing over his ear and then there was a sharp shove to his back throwing him down to the ground. Everything faded out for a time except for the nauseating spinning.
Pressure was the first thing he noticed. Intense unbearable pressure on his lower back and hips so heavy it made it feel as if his bones were being ground together. He squirmed and instantly regretted it as a muscle spam ripped through his back almost feeling like a muscle had torn. He heard someone nearby groan pitifully. He felt a spike of worry. Someone nearby was in trouble. He had to help! There was a chuckle from somewhere above him and the weight on him shifted followed by another, louder, groan. Was that him? That sounded like it was him groaning. He could feel more movements but smaller this time, no the same kind that sent fire through his back, and suddenly there was a wave of cold air hitting the flesh of his back making little goose bumps appear. The abrupt chill cleared his mind of the foggy tendrils that gripped it and he realized that he was pinned to the ground by this man he didn't know sitting on top of him. He couldn't figure out what exactly was happening but his instincts screamed danger at him.
"Ge' off" he slurred hardly more than a whisper. He tried to clap his hands together imagining a giant dirt clod fist knocking this guy straight into space but there was something tangled about his arms foiling his attempts.
"Quiet boy!" the man hissed shoving his face into the ground, his mouth filling with sopping mud and torn blades of grass, with one hand while the other stroked up and down his back. He choked on the debris suddenly panicking and began to squirm and buck desperately shouting out any chance he could wheeze out a breath.
"Stop fighting me!" the first blow was sharp, fast, and unexpected driving a cry of pain from him and he gave a tremendous lurch, ignoring the agony it caused his back, desperately trying to dislodge the man on top of him. The second strike split the skin deeply blood surging down his face the scent of it filling his nostrils as another shout echoing through the night air. The third and everything went limp and heavy recognition of the man shouting at him to shut up and be still disappeared. The fourth whallop made everything start to melt into the black.
"YO! Get your damn hands off him!"
0o0o0o0o0o0
Maes Hughes grinned cheerily savoring the flavor of ice cream still lingering blessedly upon his tongue as he sauntered slowly towards where he'd left Full Metal enjoying the brisk night air. He hadn't really planned on ice cream tonight but he could see that the boy was having a hard week and couldn't help but spontaneously invite him to an evening of relaxation and a sweet treat. Ever since he'd first seen the alchemist for the first time he'd had a soft spot for him. The first time it had been no more than exchanged glances at each other. Elric had been on his way to his certification exam and looked as if his entire being depended on him passing. His eyes had been cold with deadly determination. He held himself as tall as his small frame could manage and exuded such an air of confidence yet at the same time he looked like the weight of the world was upon him, constantly beating him down, grinding him into dust and this certification was his only way out. It had been enough to make him pause.
Their second meeting had been shortly after he had earned his certification. He was in the library stacks of books all around him, deep dark circles under his eyes clearly not having slept more than a few minutes here and there in days and oddly enough accompanied by someone in a seven foot suit of armor. The armor person had walked off mentioning getting more books and a moment later Full Metal was jumping and cursing trying to grab a book just above his reach. He'd grabbed the book for the child with a smile which had been mistaken for silent mockery and Ed had exploded at him about his height. The suit of armor hearing all the shouting had come rushing back and restrained Elric from some transmutation he'd been about to attempt and soothed him back to a sort of calm though he still appeared fuming.
It intrigued him that the amor called Edward brother. He had sounded younger than Ed but there was no telling his age for sure with all that armor he was wearing. Ove rthe course of the week he'd managed several conversations which Elric had hardly participated in always on the defensive while the armor, Alphonse, was a true but seemingly naïve gentleman furthering his assumption that he was yo0unger. It seemed as if Ed was always defending against attack from all sides and everyone not letting anyone get close. Keeping it superficial. He exuded this feeling that he was on some great mission he had to accomplish that equaled the weight of the world and then some and all the world was fighting against him. Fighting to make him fail.
What really bothered him about it was he believed that feeling. That it wasn't just melodramatics that ran so rampant through children his age. That had put a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach so strong it sent him on a mission of his own. He was going to help him relax, feel at ease. He was always wearing that mask that was the Full Metal Alchemist, youngest State Alchemist in the history of Amaestris, ever the studious and responsible. When not on some assignment from Mustang he was apparently in the library studying strange alchemy books day and night having to be cajoled into stopping to rest and eat by Alphonse. The more he observed the stronger his determination that he would be the friend that he could just be Edward Elric the child around. Whether he liked it or not.
Hughes broke from his thoughts with a scowl as he stared at the bench he'd left Ed. Now empty. He frowned figuring Elric had seen something intriguing and run off to investigate. It was an incessant habit with him. You're one to talk. The little voice in his head whispered. He rolled his eyes at himself and started forward again to go in search of where the boy ran off when he spotted something at the foot of the bench that made his stomach clench with worry. Splattered on the ground in front of the bench, sticky cream seeping outwards slowly was Ed's pistachio ice cream, the cone stuck slightly askew and slipping sideways as the scoop below it melted away. Now with any other child this would have been a minor annoyance but this was Edward Elric he was thinking about. Ed was not one to just drop a cone of ice cream and split. It was too much of a treasure. He loved food, especially sweets, and would never just drop it. He would have eaten it or taken it with him rather than let it go to waste. To just toss it to the ground he had to be in trouble.
"Ed? Ed?" he rushed to the bench looking for some indication of where the boy might be but the only sign anyone had ever been there that evening was the now abandon ice cream mess. He looked off to his right then his left. What happened? Why did he leave?
"Where are you Elric?" he wondered aloud then took off in one direction shouting for Ed trying not to sound panicked the further he went without any sign. He changed directions. Hughes skidded to a stop and listened. He thought he'd heard something. Harsh whispers maybe? Stop. Be still. Focus. His mind told him. He wasn't going to find the kid running around like his head were cut off. He inched silently towards the direction he'd thought he'd heard the whispers.
"Stop struggling!" the almost not whisper was accompanied by a cry of pain. Edward's cry of pain. Maes surged ahead his heart pounding with rage and fear as he spotted them.
Edward was lying sprawled on his stomach, face shoved deep in the mud, red cloak thrown up around his elbows tangling one wrist to an elbow, intentionally he couldn't tell, his black tank top shoved up to his armpits exposing the flesh of his back, all covered in goose bumps, and shivers starting to wrack his small frame. Sitting on top of him was a man stout with well toned muscle. He had his knees planted hard against Ed's lower back, a hand pressed in the middle of his back, holding him down or fondling Maes couldn't tell, perhaps both, and the other hand curled tight around a large stone as he smashed it once, twice, four times against' Edward's right temple eliciting cries of pain from him that made Hughes' blood boil.
"YO! Get your damn hands off him!" he bellowed charging like a bull slamming his fist against the man's face so hard he felt the cheek bone crack beneath his knuckles sending him flying of Ed. He pounded the man without mercy so enraged he didn't feel as his knuckles split and bruised, the barrage of blows hard and fast not ceasing until the man hit the ground going limp. Maes stood, panting from anger more than lack of breath, between the stranger and Ed protectively for a moment before concluding the man was staying down.
"Ed! Ed! C'mon stay with me Edward" Maes flipped Ed over lifting him into his arms. There was so much blood. It already covered the entirety of the right side of his face the deep cash starting dangerously close to his eye, which was already starting to blacken, and trailed into the hairline above his ear. The moment he was sitting up he started to cough up mud and shreds of grass with a painful wheeze, eyes nearly completely roled back, lids half mast, head lolling as he hung completely limp in Hughes' arms.
"C'mon kid stay awake. Ed you have to stay awake." he coaxed him sitting him up further brushing away the debris he'd finished coughing up.
His only response was a weak moan lingering on the brink of oblivion barely holding onto it. Maes struggled with the red cloak trying to get the clothing properly in place again to shield him from the night air as blood started to drip from the alchemist's chin and down his neck, skin going cold and clammy threatening shock. He eventually just took the cloak off as it was too tangled to sort out with only one hand and began to struggle with the black tank top but it was rolled in on itself forcing him to plunge his hand into the shirt to seek out the elusive hem. It was at this moment that there was the red and blue flash of a police car as it pulled up parking a short distance away and a fresh faced man, more a boy, stepped out of the car.
"Officer! Officer! This man is trying to assault my son!" Maes gaped as Ed's attacker jumped up staggering towards the newest arrival shouting and realized he must have regained consciousness and lain silently recovering waiting for the right moment to escape or strike. The young cop looked over the scene seeing the unidentified man beaten and bloodied, Hughes with split and bruised knuckles, a hand up the shirt of the boy he was holding tight against his chest bleeding heavily and moaning insensibly.
"Sir my name is Lieutenant Colonel Maes Hu…"All logical rebuttal was obliterated as the nightstick collided brutally against the back of Maes Hughes' skull.
A/N: So what did you think? You are all very consistent, 2 reviews per chapter...shall we try for more? I am back in my element, I noticed that as soon as I got to this chapter there was virtually nothing for me to really edit, polish sure, double typed words, over used words(poor Thesaurus) that sorta thing but no actual editing. It felt good! So drop me a line and let me know what you thought of this! Check for the next chapter tomorrow too!