Chapter 13: what doesn't kill you
summary: a meeting that is anything but light hearted
Alucard's POV
Endless, endless, amusement.
The solemn faces of the Elrics as they gave one another meaningful gazes, the buzzing of their thoughts as they put everything into perspective and began to formulate plans, plots, and worst-case scenarios.
Entertaining.
Perhaps his return to England and his Master could wait a little longer. It was so rare, after all, that he got to have this much fun.
"That settles it, we have to tell Mustang. Now. Who knows how many more people have been infected?"
Alphonse nodded, then pulled himself up off the couch he and his brother had commandeered. It was on the other side of the same room they'd found him in, the rotting body of the boy still where it had fallen.
Apparently he was the only one who could smell the shit and the rot.
Edward followed, wincing as he put weight on his metal leg, the complaint of the limb barely audible to human ears, rather grating to his. Apparently Al noticed as well, eyes darting to his brother's leg and a frown beginning to mar his face.
"Brother, what's wrong with your automail?"
Ed quickly waved him off, a false smile jumping to cover his discomfort. "Don't worry about it Al, just a few new dents. Nothing Winry can't fix."
He could clearly read the doubt in Al's face, but the younger boy didn't push the subject. He just gave Ed a "you aren't getting off that easily, but we have bigger problems at the moment so I'll demand the truth later' look and began to make his way down the hall.
Ed followed, shooting him a wary glance. He didn't bother demanding Alucard following, knowing full well the nosferatu would regardless of what he said or did. Such was the impression he had left of late.
Smirking in a placid, if absent way, Alucard brought up the rear, watching the two short blonde heads in front of him and the way they bobbed with their owners' movements. Even without being able to hear the complaint of the metal, he could still see the slight limp in Ed's movements regardless of how hard he attempted to cover it. He could also see the strain in Al's movements, the weariness in the malnourished body still far too thin despite the straightness in the spine and the purpose in the gait.
He felt his grin widen and take on substance. It really didn't surprise him, this determination the blondes in his life had. It was…enduring, if generally in a maddening way.
"So Al, why were you all the way down here? What happened to sticking with Falman and Breda?"
"We got separated."
Flashes of color, of noise passed through Alphonse's mind. High pitched screams, hurried yelling, snarling, drooling beasts and the splash of crimson he so dearly loved, all that chaos belied by such a simple, emotionless statement. It spoke nothing of the horrors he may or may not have faced nothing of the picture his mind painted for the only other being that could see it.
How quant it was, the boy stepping up into the role of man. Al was proving to be less like the impression he'd gleaned from the elder Elric at every turn.
"Did the two of you capture the leader?"
"Yea, but he managed to slip through our grasp."
He couldn't help himself, the chuckle sweeping up and out of his chest cavity. The lies of humans, and their love of manipulating outcomes through the use of wording, it never failed to tickle his sensibilities. He had, of course, been a master of it in his time.
The two alchemists glanced back at him, Al simply curious and Ed more than a little mutinous. "What're you laughing at? Thinking about strangling puppies?"
Al switched his now startled gaze to Ed, then back to him when he responded with "Something like that, but sunnier."
"Ha Ha, very funny."
He flashed them a fang-filled grin, watching the two of them hold a conversation consisting solely of facial expressions. He was already tingling with anticipation to hear the collective horror stories of the militia dogs, painfully curious about the violence and bloodshed he'd missed out on, and eager to see the reception such tales received.
Integra, he thought gleefully, would be quite displeased with him, had she been there.
-in mustang's room-
The chair he'd commandeered was far from comfortable, but he lounged in it none the less. He'd already played his lurking in the shadows move, so now he had to play his lounging about indifferently move. It was, after all, just as creepy if he'd already made a prime impression on those around him. And he was fairly certain he had.
So far the only people in the room aside from himself and the Elrics were Mustang, and the blonde woman whose name he couldn't remember but was pretty sure had to do with animals, or anatomy, or maybe both. It wasn't pertinent at the moment, so he didn't bother finding out.
He flashed the dark haired man a grin when next his gaze moved from the watch in hand to the outsider in their midst. The bite of that dark, distrusting gaze was intoxicating. Mustang frowned, eyes shifting to watch the woman winding a bandage around Al's hand for some scrape or another.
"Damn it!" A screwdriver punctuated the exclamation nicely as it bounced off the wall it was thrown at.
"Do try to contain yourself Edward, this is still a hospital."
The blonde alchemist didn't even look up from his automail, having now resorted to trying to pound it magically back into semi-working order with his fist.
"Brother! Stop! You're going to make it worse!" Al made to stand as he spoke, but was sternly sat back down by the woman's hand on his shoulder.
"Make it worse? Ha! Real funny Al. I don't think it could get any worse then-OW fuck!" Ed grabbed at his hip with one hand while the other promptly undid whatever it was he'd just done to hurt himself. "Not a word." He grit out between clenched teeth, giving up on his endeavor to try to work the pain out of whatever muscle he'd managed to aggravate.
"Are you still capable of hobbling, Fullmetal?" Mustang asked sardonically, a slight smirk on his lips.
"Yea, how about I hobble over there and wipe that smirk off your ugly mug, colonel bastard?"
"That would be more threatening if I thought you'd be able to reach it."
"WHO'RE YOU CALL-"
The slam of the door against the wall dropped the room into silence, all present save him turning to inspect the source of the noise.
"Shit!" Ed made to rise at the sight along with the others, only to fall back as his leg told him to piss off.
Mustang was the first to reach the threesome in the doorway, the woman on his heels. As one they took the weight of the man being supported, Al dutifully closing the door behind them. The two men, covered in blood but in no dire need of medical attention, gave a cursory glance around the room before moving to tear it apart in search of immediate medical supplies.
"Report. Now. What happened?"
The blonde man, cigarette suddenly aparated and half gone, dropped down next to the woman to help her. "I don't know sir, we found him on the way back here. Haven't been able to get him to say shit."
Alucard focused in on the man they were crouched around, taking in the pallid skin and glazed eyes. The scent of terror and death wafted off him in waves, and it was clear he wasn't aware that his uniform was being torn and the stump where his arm had been was being hurriedly tied off and bandaged.
Mustang slapped him smartly across the face, waiting for the eyes to blink, shift, and focus groggily on him. "Falman, stay with me. I need you to tell me what happened."
A shudder ran through the soldier, images straight from the hellish depths of a child's nightmares flashing behind his eyes. Only Alucard bore witness, watching the man relive the fight for his life.
"T-they…out of nowhere, so many…killed…Breda…survivors…don't know if anyone…anyone got away…"
"Alphonse."
The boy was at Mustang's side in a heartbeat, eyes already darting, evaluating.
"Can you fix this? I don't need to lose anymore men today."
Al nodded, dropping to his knees where the other two made room for him. A clap of his hands, an arc of blue light, and the flesh began knitting itself over the bone and tissue left jagged and exposed by a yet unknown source.
Alucard shifted his gaze to Ed, who was still seated, absently rubbing out the last of the muscle pain and staring intensely at the scene before him, a frown denting his forehead. He was pleased to see the path the boy's mind was following, knew it was only a matter of time before the truth that was obvious to him became an overbearing suspicion to the alchemist.
Perhaps his lesson hadn't gone as far over the short, blonde head as he'd earlier thought.
"There, now he won't bleed to death." Alphonse stood and got out of the others' way, swaying a bit as he addressed Mustang.
The colonel placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him. "Thank you Alphonse. Go sit down, you need your rest."
Alphonse did as bid, though his eyes never left Falman, worry etched on his face.
"Al.." Ed faltered, tearing his gaze from the bloodied mess of their comrade to his little brother. ""What happened?"
He felt Mustang's attention shift, saw the muscles in the already tense body tighten further. Puzzle pieces, all of them scattered, one of them fortunately coherent and sitting not five feet from him.
"We made it to the landing of the first floor, but it was too quite, I should have known better. They were waiting, probably heard us coming down the stairs…"
Darkness and eerie silence, choking his lungs along with the smoke and dust. Human noise all around him, panting, whispering, wailing; flesh against concrete as bare feet descended stairs, grunts as those aiding others were able to set down the burden of another human's weight. A prickling up his spine, the sense of being watched, being wanted so reminiscent of his fights with the Homunculi that it sent his senses on high alert. A flash of movement, the snap that could be nothing but that of teeth against teeth, and he knew, in that instant, that they were not alone.
"I warned Breda and Falman just before they came at us.."
Words, unintelligible in the heat of the moment but enough burst from his lungs, his body already reacting to the threat it knew was just beyond his vision. He was able to raise the barrier just in time, a solid thump signaling a body colliding with his defense. Yelling now, both panicked and commanding all around him, disorienting. A scream cut short and he's spinning in time to see a faceless woman falling beneath the crushing weight of the unnatural beast tearing into her. He can only register the gleam of scales and the flash of feathers before the light of his transmutation obscures it all, the creatures screech competing with the roaring in his ears.
"There were three of them, Chimeras. I killed one, wounded another, but the flying one…"
Another shout, a familiar tone: Falman. He spins again, sees the beast pinning him to the ground and getting closer and closer to winning out against the arm holding it back. Another transmutation, this one aimed at the wall, sending a spear straight into the beast, catching it in the shoulder with a squelch and throwing it off balance just enough so Falman can move, the gun in his hand coming to rest beneath the disfigured maw and discharging into the overly large skull, brains erupting forth like a volcano to splatter the ceiling and rain down upon them. He reached them as the thing fell, shoving as hard as he can to help roll it off the now really pinned soldier before the weight crushes him. They manage to push the corpse aside, Falman turning, grabbing his offered hand, at the same time his eyes darting up, widening. Falman nearly yanking his arm from its socket as he pulls him down beside him, something brushing past him.
"It nearly took my head off. If Falman hadn't pulled me out of the way it would have. Instead it grabbed someone else…"
The crash of the creature colliding with the wall, the skittering sound of plaster and concrete being dislodged by claws bearing too much weight, the begging of the man in its grasp, then the silence as his head disappeared down the thing's throat. A quick glance around revealing scattered corpses awash in blood, fleeing backs and cowering forms. Breda rushing to his side, yanking the two of them up, yelling something he couldn't make out.
"I told Breda and Falman to look after everyone, then lured the Chimera away…."
Terrified faces, unsure what to say to his orders, but left with no choice as he moved, on instinct, on principle, on a need to protect, to do right by the two soldiers who'd already done so much for him. He locked eyes with the thing, ugly, bulging orbs that glittered wetly following him before the beast moved to follow. He focused on the wing beats, ducking in time to avoid the attack, feeling the talons scrape lightly over his back as he rolled back to his feet, chimera tumbling into the floor and wall, trying to right itself, to turn about. He waited until it saw him before dodging down a hallway, the sounds of it jumping from one wall to another behind him more terrifying than the wing beats that followed. Again he threw himself to the floor, this time transmutation at the ready. He caught the beast where the wing met torso with a chance floor spike, sending it careening to the side, screeching as its weight caused the wing to tear along its length before it crashed to the floor. The useless appendage flopped as the beast scrambled to regain its feet. It tried to put weight on the ruined wing, fell, caught itself and shifted its weight, turning with surprising speed toward him, lunging despite the injury. The disjointed movements gave him the opening he needed, but instead of catching it neatly in the skull the spike went into the thing's shoulder, throwing it sideways into the window. The glass pane shattered as the chimera fell half out of it, bloodied glass shards skittering across the floor. Darkness as he shielded his eyes, falling away once silence settled, to reveal the sight of a twitching body, half out the window, gurgling around the glass shard peeking out from a furry throat.
"I put it out of its misery, then backtracked. But there was no one in the hallway except the dead. I didn't know which way they'd gone, so I set off on my own to see if I could find the group, or one of the people that had fled on their own. I found a few, only one of them alive…"
The darkened room where they had found him, crouched over the terrified boy and trying to convince him he was a friend. Trying to ignore the blood gushing from the wounds in his legs and put on a smile, keep his voice steady and comforting. Finally the boy relenting, begging him, pulling at him, keeping him from helping. The tears choking him, making need for more time wasted to calm him. And finally, finally when the boy is quieted, is compliant enough to allow him to begin healing him, a crash and a yell, and suddenly the tense feeling that hadn't left him since before he'd been separated from the group fell away in disbelief at the sight of blonde hair and golden eyes.
"And then you found me."
Ed, he noted, had become much paler since Al had started his little story. It made him wonder what color the boy would be if he'd been privy to the wonderfully painted scenery inside the younger boy's skull he'd just been privy to.
Mustang, back still to them, eyes still on Falman, broke the sudden silence with his even tone. "What happened to the boy? Where is he now?"
Both Elrics flinched, albeit to their credit subtly. "Dead." Alphonse.
"How?"
Ed and Al exchanged glances, then Ed spoke up. "He was infected by one of the soldiers-"
This got Mustangs full, unadulterated attention. He turned, gaze locking on Edwards. "Infected with what, infected how?"
Here Alphonse glanced toward him, the first person to acknowledge his presence since the whole ordeal started. He flashed the boy an idle grin, enjoying himself far too much to interrupt their little debriefing.
"He was bitten by one of the Briggs soldiers, who was already infected. It passes through saliva and blood, shutting down your body. Once you're dead, the virus takes control, reanimates your body and places you under the command of the originator. These things, Ghouls," Here Ed glances fleetingly at him. "Are mindless beasts, that unless told otherwise by their master will tear you apart and…eat you. They're no longer human, and can't be reasoned with. The only way to kill them is to destroy the brain or the heart, or sever the head from the spinal cord. They don't feel pain, and will keep going even with serious wounds."
"And their master?" Mustang's voice had dropped a few octaves, the disturbed look on his face growing by the minute.
Again another glance at Alucard. "A…vampire. When one of them bites a human, if they're…well, not a virgin, they get turned into ghouls."
He was aware, of course, that vampires had a place in this universe's myth, albeit a far less commercialized one. However it'd taken his descriptions earlier to get the correct Amestrian word from Edward, along with a brief description of his understanding of them. Which, it turned out, was nothing like what they were dealing with, and even further from what he was.
It was both amusing, and aggravating. He wasn't fond of playing teacher when it was for something so…simple, so basic. But he would, and he would enjoy it, even if it meant terrorizing every person within a fifty mile radius.
"Vampires. As in the obscure monsters of literature. You're telling me those are what started this?"
"Well…" Now two sets of golden eyes were upon him, drawing the dark gaze of Mustang as well, who raised a brow and waited.
He spread his hands. "In a sense. Although the pathetic creatures you call vampires are far from capable of such endeavors. It is merely the closest thing in your realm of understanding to what the threat truly is."
"And that threat is?"
"Beings stronger, faster, and more resilient to pain than you could ever hope to be, with an endless army of mindless drones to create more minions, to create even more minions, ad nauseam. And it would seem, if what you and these children have told me is correct, you no longer need to be alive to become one." That was the part that was new to him, albeit not too surprising. He'd dealt with millennium enough to kill any skepticism he might have held on the subject.
Mustang turned to Edward for clarification, not having to say a word to garner a response.
"The one leading the group was Buccaneer. Except he wasn't. He didn't remember me, and mentioned something about the person he was and the person he was now. I don't know if it has anything to do with Father or the Homunculi, but it reminded me of Greed."
Mustang was far more disturbed by the information than he let on. "And how long is the incubation period for this…disease?"
"It depends on the person, and how healthy they are to begin with." Alphonse. "The symptoms are subtle, at least from our perspective. Glassy eyes, sweating, loss of coherence…it's easier for us to assume anyone who was bitten by one of the ghouls, or a vampire, has been infected."
"And the chimeras?"
He watched as Ed and Al exchanged a glance, before turning to him for an answer. "They are whatever it is they were made to be. Soldiers with no sense of duty or control, pets that would rather tear your arm off than learn to play fetch…I neither know nor care what it is you use your lab created beasts for."
"Do they carry the infection?"
He rolled his eyes. The idiocy of humans. "Doubtful. The point of creating ghouls is to have functioning minions, or in this case an army that feels neither pain nor empathy. I find it highly unlikely they would partition those things for that cause, what with their insatiable hunger for limbs."
"A simple 'no' would have sufficed." Mustang turned his attention back to the three tending Falman. "Fuery."
The small, bespeckled brunette turned. "Sir?"
"I want you to send word through the hospital to the staff that anyone bitten is to be quarantined immediately. But do so discreetly. Causing a panic is the last thing we want to do right now. Tell them as little as possible, the less people trying to hide their possible infection, the sooner we can contain this."
"Yes sir!"
"And Fuery?"
The man paused in the doorway.
"Be careful, will you? Good help is so hard to find."
Fuery grinned, saluting his commander before slipping out into the hallway.
"Roy." The blonde man with the cigarette. He'd gone quite pale, his tone grim. "What does this look like to you?" He pulled back the fabric of the sleeve on Falman's still attached arm.
Mustang sucked in a breath at the sight. "He's been bitten."
The wound was paler than the area around it, the large chunck of flesh attached now only by a few pieces of skin had stopped bleeding, ringed now by a congealed mess that looked like it belonged on toast rather than in a body. The scent of rot was obvious to him, to the point he would wager a guess those closest to the man could smell it as well.
"How do we cure it?"
Mustang was met with silence.
"Well? Answer me!"
He waited until the colonel had turned to him, eyes threatening violence, before speaking up. "I believe your pet alchemist already answered this question." When Mustang continued to look at him, disbelief and willful ignorance etched on his face, Alucard pointed his fingers at his temple and mimed pulling a trigger.
Mustang looked to the Elrics, both of whom stayed silent. They'd already had this particular conversation, already run through their boughts of denial and bargaining.
Now the rest of them had to come to terms with the reality of the situation. The only cure was a bullet to the brain, and anything else was simply needless torture.
Mustang turned back to Falman, who looked more sickly than he had when he'd first arrived. He didn't have much longer. "Falman…Vato Falman!"
He watched with interest as the colonel strode purposefully to his failing subordinate, the remaining two soldiers parting to allow him to be front and center in the man's view. To his credit, Mustang catches and holds Falman's gaze, the 2nd lieutenant focusing solely on his commander.
"Sir?" His voice is croaky, but relatively strong considering.
"I need you to listen to me very closely, can you do that?"
"Yes…Sir."
"You've been bitten and infected by a ghoul."
A chuckle that sounds less like humor and more like something is grinding up his lungs. "Yea…Got me after…chimera. Back was turned, stupid mistake…."
"There is no cure. Do you understand? There's…nothing we can do." Mustang's voice was strong despite the thoughts in his head, a true commander. Alucard silently applauded him.
Falman took a deep breath, lungs rattling. "Sure…there is. You heard them..better than I probably did."
"Falman-"
"I've seen what those things are….seen what they do…what you become…I don't want that…I didn't sacrifice everything…to end it like that after everything…we've done." His voice was failing him, the effort it took to form the words wearing him down.
The room fell into silence as the words sunk into everyone present, Falman's labored breathing thrown into sharp relief because of this.
"I would suggest you make up your mind quickly, this isn't a decision you can take before a board and then sleep on, colonel."
Mustang threw him a fiery glance, clearly not appreciating having his sulking time interrupted. It was, after all, the main conflict in his mind, the loss of a beloved underling regardless of what he did. It was something these humans would have to acclimate to quickly if they wanted to stay on the other side of a gun muzzle.
"Falman?"
The dying man managed a small smirk. "It's been an honor…serving under you…colonel."
Mustang reached over to the woman at his side, who did nothing as he pulled the pistol from the holster at her side. "It's been an honor having you. Until we meet again."
"I'll give Maes your regards…"
Mustang bowed his head for a moment, pistol held rigidly in front of him. The two subordinates at his side saluted, the grin on Falman's lips growing just a little at the sight. "Thank you." He raised both his head and the pistol, eyes never leaving Falman as he pulled the trigger.