"Well it doesn't seem like there is anything wrong with you besides the bruising on your chest. Your breathing won't be the same for a while considering the fact that you damaged your lungs in some way. The cut on your neck will need some stitches, but other than that you were better off than your friend"
Roy's head snapped up, sending a dull ach through his throat, his pulse beating madly beneath the bandage. He twirled his thumbs restlessly, and then asked hesitantly, "Will-will he be okay? What's wrong with him?" The doctor sighed, turning away from him, tapping a pen against his clip board in an irritating manner.
"He's fine. He has some serious damage to his stomach, and a blood vessel burst in his throat, causing some of the bleeding, but most of it was because of a wound in his stomach and some internal inflammation in his esophagus. That Automail arm he has, well, he ripped his skin around the port pretty severely. We have him on an IV, considering anything he ate he would just throw back up. Right now he's resting, I would be too, and so should you!"
Roy looked away, feeling increasingly guilty and faint. The doctor was right, he was exhausted.
Roy glanced at the closed hospital room door, scratching his wrist irritably and grumbling under his breathe. He wanted nothing other than to go over and apologize to the boy, to make it up to him. It had been his birthday, and would have gone perfectly had Roy been more precautious. Now Edwards eighteenth birthday, his first adult year, would be ruined with images of blood, vomit and Ravens; killer Ravens. Roy certainly couldn't get it out of his head.
Besides that Roy felt the urge to go and investigate. To find out what the stranger was after and why they had stolen Mustang's watch and wallet. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep with the Attackers face haunting his dreams, screaming at him through a black beak, dripping dark red blood.
Mustang groaned and dropped his face into his hands. How the hell was he supposes to explain this to his superiors? Oh my, I am so sorry Your Excellency, but this bird faced fiend jumped out of nowhere and stole my watch and wallet. You have to believe me! I am Roy Mustang and not a shape shifting gender-confused palm tree making futile excuses! That would go so well.
No, Roy was fairly certain he would end up in an Insane Asylum.
He looked up at the doctor; Dr. Johnly maybe, and pouted, wanting to get out into fresh air and breath the anesthetic smell from his nose. He wanted to go home and sit in front of his fireplace, mesmerized by the red and orange flames which danced to no rhythm in particular. Roy swallowed painfully.
And he really wanted some Liquor. Hard Liquor.
Roy ran a shaky hand through his black hair, gripping it and gritting his teeth together in an itchy way, his eyes snapped shut and he took deep painful breaths, remembering what his Shrink had said. As soon as he felt calm again he looked up at Dr. Johnly through his splayed fingers, feeling remorseful and disgusted with himself.
"Can I go home now?" He mumbled pathetically, wanting to appear big eyed and innocent. The doctor simply pushed his large glasses to the top of his nose and said stoically, "First you need stitches"
Roy groaned.
XXXXXXXXXX
Edward chocked, coughing loudly and making a hopeless attempt to move his arms. His eyes fluttered open and he squinted against the harsh white light that pushed past his eyelids in blotches of red. Finally managing to move, he pushed up his arms, feeling fatigued from the effort, and held them up, blocking out the artificial brilliance with his hands.
"You're awake Sister?" Fullmetal flinched, turning her head towards the voice, eyes blinking rapidly.
Yes, her. Edward Elric was, in fact, female. She was stubborn about keeping it secret, considering she originally was male before he attempted to bring back his Mother, to see her smile and cry, to see her live. If anyone found out about her gender they would have known the forbidden things that she had committed, and how she unwillingly forced those sins, which should have been hers, onto her brother, rendering him of feeling and warmth, sticking him into a suit of armor. She could have told Mustang and everyone who knew her horrible secret, but she had a habit of discreetness, she knew even a small slip could end her life.
She had a tight white bandage wrapped around her chest, and wore baggy clothes, content with the feminine look that she held despite her efforts. Her period was the hardest to hide, taking up the routine of stuffing tampons into her boots or into the small, inside coat pocket she alchemized, specifically for that reason. Her gloves were not just to hide the prosthetic right arm, but also to hide the elegant slenderness of her fingers. Her hair was long, something she loved and had adopted after the accident which caused her change in sex. Edward wouldn't let go of her name, keeping it close because it covered her identity and reminded her of her Mom, who gifted him (her) with such.
Edward smiled as her little brother reached out and helped her sit up, placing a large, over stuffed pillow against her back, cushioning her. She coughed realizing that there was a plastic covering on her mouth. A breathing mask.
"Hey Al," She croaked, nodding once when he motioned to the glass of water on the nightstand beside her bed. He pulled off the mask softly, putting the small bendy straw into her mouth. She drank down the liquid greedily small gulping sounds coming from her parched throat. Alphonse pulled the cup away and she whimpered, reaching out weakly like a puppy to a bone. Al chuckled, placing it back onto the stand, looking at her warmly.
"The Doc said that you could have some water, but that you might throw it back up in you have too much, but sense you practically ate the cup we'll have to see if he's right."
Ed stuck out her tongue, not pleased with puking her guts up yet again.
She looked up at her brother, a worried expression on her soft face.
"Does," She started biting down hard on her bottom lip she blinked rapidly as if to keep from crying, then continued, "Does Riza know?"
Alphonse looked down, a flush of embarrassment on his cheeks.
"She- she suspected. The fact that you wouldn't let her-her um, you know, well, it just confirmed her suspicions."
Ed nodded and breathed in harshly, placing her hand to her chest when it started to throb uncomfortably. She sucked in another breath, having a hard time with such a simple task. Al quickly placed the mask over her face to regulate her hard breathing, a face of deep concern on his face.
Gradually her heartbeat evened out and her breathing became soft and even, a sleepy face upon the patient. Alphonse sighed, pulled the lumpy pillow slowly out from under her and laid the sleeping teenager down on the hard hospital bed, replacing the large cushier with a smaller sleeping pillow, smiling fondly at his older sibling.
He leaned forward, wiped stray hairs away from her sticky face, her soft breathing a lullaby to his new ears.
XXXXXXXXXX
Roy strode out of the Medical Center, coat resting on his shoulder, a scowl of deep concentration on his face. His black sneakers made a lulling smack as he walked down the sidewalk, feeling the strong wind pull at his hair and play around his dark clothes. The trees shed their leaves in his path and they swirled lethargically, soft whispers to a setting sun. He sighed; he would never understand the motivation, to steal his wallet and watch. Never. And it stung him, hurt his pride in a way other things did not.
He turned a corner, watching as the shadows danced about his feet and ran across the walls.
It just didn't make sense! He'd never heard of any masked villains, anything that indicated it was fluke. But there was no indication that if wasn't a fluke.
And that just left him back where he started, confused and wary, angry and irritable.
Roy frowned up at the clouds, nearly biting his tongue off as a roll of thunder sequenced from the skies belly, and lightning flitted across the sky, blinding Roy.
And then it began to rain.
It wasn't something Mustang felt at first, just a few benign rumbles and the howling of the wind brushing through the park trees. The first drop hit his nose, surprising him. He reached up, a touched the perfectly balanced drop, looking up to the sky in agitation. His fist clenched as the sky started to pour, releasing years of anger and restless energy. Roy pulled his nearly soaked jacket from his shoulder and threw it over his head, trying to keep himself dry, even if it meant leaving himself vulnerable. He started to run.
God, Roy hated the rain. The feeling of it as it crawled down his skin and choked out his flames, burning out his inner fire, as it soaked his clothes with the tears of heaven, resting the world upon his shoulders, he just despised it. He wiped it out of his eyes, pushing his hair back, tired of seeing through strands of black.
Roy sighed a breathe of relief as he saw his house, pale and modest; a white fence surrounded the area, a cobblestone path leading to his apartment through a yard of green grass.
Then he was pushed forward, his momentum causing him to skid across the wet pavement. He rolled precariously, landing harshly on his bruised chest, damaging it further. Someone's knee pressed hard into his back, pinning him to the ground emotionlessly, and one of his arms was pulled upward, threatening to pop out of its socket. As a flash of bright, burning pain flashed down his body, Roy cried out, his other hand clawing at the ground in pain, unable to use it for anything useful. A growl rumbled in his chest, despite the serious pain he was in, as the attacker pushed his face against the cold shimmering ground, knocking his nose against the pavement until he felt blood trickle down brutishly, chocking him as it flooded down his throat.
Finally, spitting blood from his mouth, he glared up at the Attacker through cold hard eyes, and said, with as much venom as he could muster, "If you're going to kill me then get on with it, I don't want you wasting my time for something as pathetic as the few bills I carry in my pocket."
A sinister laugh carried back to him, and he watched as his Assaulter leaned in close, giving him a good view of his face. He was masked, the face of a Starling covering his face in the most disturbing way, yellow eyes narrowed in bloodlust.
"You're strong, I respect that, all I want to know is one thing," he paused dramatically, leaning down further until he was breathing into his ear, sending shivers down Roy's spine and then he whispered, "Where is the Fullmetal Alchemist?"
At first Roy laid there, stunned, eyes wide, a perplexed expression on his face, then, he laughed. It was quiet, ominous and nasty, a threatening tone to it, then it took an abrupt turn, turning louder, and crazy, sounding much like a psychotic, half dead man would do before he died. It carried through the Fiends bones, taking residence in between his ribs, before growing until he shook and his skin crawled.
It died there, a mean sigh following after it.
"You attacked me, to ask me where the Fullmetal Alchemist, is?"
He turned his head to the side, looking up at him through amused and foreboding eyes, smiling up at his Assaulter. His eyes narrowed and suddenly held a malicious intent; his smile twisted immorally, teeth showing.
"Have you no respect?"
Roy wrenched from the man's grasp, stifling a gasp as he purposefully popped his arm out to get away. The Masked Stranger pushed himself backward as Mustangs fist came forward, nearly breaking his nose and mask, grazing his cheek and ripping out feathers. They fluttered to the ground, remorseful, weighed down by the heavy rain that made Roy angrier than he already was, making him see in colors of red.
He skidded of bare wrapped feet, scraping them against the wet roadway. He breathed in heavily, clutching the side of his face as he realized just how much he underestimated this man. He leaned forward taking a defensive posture as Roy quickly popped his arm back into place, a hard grimace on his face. He clenched his jaw as light burst between his eyes and jolts of electricity ran up his arm and through his neck. He rolled his shoulder stiffly, a small pained smile on his face.
"Just- just who are you?" He said with a voice of bewilderment and fear. No normal person would be able to withstand the pain of a dislocated arm, much less the emotional trauma of someone such as himself attacking and threatening them. He was a military man; that much he could tell from the way he held himself and the fierce iciness behind his eyes.
Roy laughed at the man, fisting his left arm roughly and grinning malevolently.
"My name is Roy Mustang, the Flame Alchemist," He grinned maliciously, "Now, your worst nightmare."
Then he shot forward, his clenched fist shooting out first, making contact with the intruders face, breaking the mask with a loud, spine tingling 'Crack'! It fell away in pieces falling to the ground unceremoniously and Roy took that moment to bring his right leg up and swing it around, locking his ankle into a point, round house kicking him square in the chest, causing the man to fall to his knees, as if in prayer. A string of saliva and blood trailed out of his mouth to his hideously red beard and he looked up at Mustang through shielded bright green eyes. Roy lifted his foot and brought it down hard to his back, between his shoulder blades, meeting an alarming scrunch, pinning him to the ground vengefully, a pitiless sneer clear on his face.
"I never thought I would be beaten, and by a man half my age," Roy's Attacker huffed, "But a man you are, and I would have no other," He paused, a thoughtful expression on his weathered face, "Though, I am afraid I will have to depart with you, so farewell, Flame With A Heart Of Ice, goodbye." And with that he wrenched his arm out from under him, a crystal dagger slipping out from his sleeve into the palm of his hand. Roy jumped back sharply, hissing under his breath, suspicions running deep. Then he turned the glinting black knife towards himself and plunged it deep into his throat, promptly drowning in his own blood.
Roy's face contorted, turning away in disgust as he fell limp and lifeless to the blood coated ground, wide eyes growing grey and glazed, sinking in slightly, already beginning to decompose. Mustang sighed, pulling out the small black cell in his breast pocket, pressing the number in with experienced fingers, scowling as he wiped the rain from his eyes and rubbed his aching shoulder.
"Hawkeye,"
Roy breath came out, and he turned his back to the dead man now behind him.
"Hey, its Roy, can you come to..." He trailed off sprinting off towards the road sign on the corner of the street, "NW Rosewood by the park,"
"May I ask what is going on?"
"No Lieutenant, you'll see, just bring Maes and a weapon, we can't be too careful,"
A small humorless chuckle came through the phone, and her voice followed shortly after.
"Do I ever forget? Don't worry; we'll be there in five minutes Sir."
At the sound of the dial tone Roy snapped his phone shut with a snap, and leisurely strode towards the deceased person, crouching down with a grunt and turning him towards the grey sky, wincing as his eyes stared up at the rain filled clouds with a strange sort of peace, which could only be attained with death.
He suddenly felt very envious of this carefree man.
Roy rubbed his forehead, standing up swiftly and walking the short distance to the sidewalk, gutters flooded with leaves and water. His sneakers splashed the rain water around as he sat down briskly, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose in a distressed manner.
Two times, two times in one day he had nearly lost his life, and only to know where the person he despised most was at, where they lived.
And it very much hurt his pride.
As soon as the distinguishable sound of engines came into his hearing he got up, stretching his sore tender muscles, groaning as his joints popped ominously. A frowned found its way to his face as Riza pulled a strangely eager Maes towards Roy who was now crouching down to the body, scowling at it.
Hawkeye's face contorted at the grotesque wound that had clearly killed the man, and looked down in her superior officers clouded eyes, questioning bluntly, devoid of any emotion, "Did you kill him Roy?"
Roy looked up at her, clearly nauseated at that cold inquiry, standing up to full height so he wouldn't further damage his vulnerable muscles which groaned apprehensively as he stretched in one full body motion.
"That's just a sick way to kill someone, don't you think?" Mustang shook his head, his icy eyes glaring down at the dead man laid unceremoniously on the cold, wet ground drops of rain running down his pale, lifeless body, "No, I didn't do that, he did it, to himself." Riza's eyes widened, clearly not expecting anything relatively close to that, and it took a lot to startle Riza Hawkeye. Then she glowered at something in the distance, her brow furrowed and motioned Maes forward with the wave of her hand. He slumped over, carrying a black fabric and laying it over the body, covering those haunting grey green eyes, which still reminded him of a Starlings eyes despite the obvious difference in color.
Roy turned away yet again as his friends began calling over military personnel, requesting a small medical team as well when Roy simply shrugged when they asked if he were injured.
He looked to the sky and, for nearly the first time in his life, felt something spark inside him.
Something that felt like fear.
Fear for someone other than himself.
XXXXXXXXXX
Edward sighed blearily, scratching at the irritatingly white sheets nervously, biting on her flesh knuckles to relieve herself of the ever present boredom which smothered her, making Ed want to strangle herself with the thin, useless bed sheets than restrained her from any normal movement. She sighed, for what seemed for the millionth time, and glanced at the clock on the wall, ticking softly in rhythm.
3:30 in the morning.
It was a very vexing thought that she had been up for nearly two hours, counting the unsanitary brown, water spots which covered the ceiling. She turned to her brother and her friend, Alphonse and Winry, recently committed to each other, much to Edwards secret joy. Both folded up together in the lumpy hospital chair that was just big enough for the both of them, sleeping silently, Winry's head resting against Al's chest trustingly, and a small secret smile on her lips, whispering soft mysteries so that only Edward could hear them.
But how in God's name would she survive the night?
Ed plopped back down onto her pillow, crossing her arms and pouting at nothing in particular.
Edward thought back, closing her eyes into slits and breathing out loudly. The moment were she had screamed his name had been surreal, when the cart that carrying them flipped and she was utterly certain that they would both plummet to their death, leaving only two crumpled heaps on the ground, insignificant to the world. The moment when she saw the fear in her eyes reflected in his, shining through in those few intense minutes.
Of course, being Edward Elric, she was the one stuck in the hospital bed, Roy probably prancing off to some despondent virgin's house to bed her, and to leave. Or maybe it was a male virgin, Roy didn't exactly ponder over his nightly activities, even if the sometimes involved those of the same gender. To him, sex was sex, and sex brought about pleasure. Those flirtatious women or men who drooled over him were simply play things, there to keep him occupied, to keep those stifling memories from drowning him.
Anyone who actually knew the real Roy Mustang would vouch for it.
Edward turned onto her side, hissing as her Automail wound throbbed uncontrollably.
Roy was such an idiot. Keeping things to him self, seeming to think he could hold the world upon his shoulders should anyone offer.
Edward closed her eyes, pulling subtly at the lose thread ends of her pillow, growing warmer with every tug.
She took a deep breathe, and fell into a restless sleep, turning and whimpering to the thunder and lightning that fought outside her hospital room window.
The sky swelled.