Brief Commentary:
Yey, chapter twenty-seven. LAWL. Kudos to those who noticed the website. Which was NOBODY. I'm sooo evil that you guys can't even FIND IT! -dramatic music- For those of you who are wondering what the hell the website is, it's something I've put up just recently (lawl, the 23rd, the links been up for a couple of days now...), and it has some very interesting information for you all. No, it's not spoilers. It's not extra-special information on the characters. Sorry to disappoint. LOOK FOR EHT, M'KAY?
Hint: The link is on my profile. Here. On fanfiction, thanks very much. Only those who actually ever bothered to read my profile will be able to find it (maybe).
Reasons Not For Your Ears
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Fuck, I'm going to die.
Winry found herself suddenly immobile, Edward beside her breathing heavily and clutching the hole in his stomach as he stared warily at Scar, who was approaching at a frightening speed. She didn't even see Scar anymore - her eyes had glazed over and her body was paralyzed with a numb feeling, as if she couldn't even remember that she was in a situation where she would for certain come out bloody and dead (at least, that's what she believed. All the same, the probability was extremely high).
Just as she drew in one last breath before sub-consciously preparing herself for the cutting blow, a deafening BANG echoed hollowly in her ears, eyes focusing as she saw Scar slump to the ground not a meter in front of her. The hand that had been holding the knife fell to his side, the weapon clattering onto the cement. His head was bowed and it seemed as though the dark-skinned man had stopped breathing. Winry was proven wrong as he inhaled shakily, before falling onto his side, limp as a rag doll.
It was only when blood began to pool beside his skull that she realized Scar had just been assassinated, as it were. She turned her gaze to Edward, who was still slumped next to her, his own gun still several agonizing feet away. He coughed again, more red liquid spraying from his lips. From another glance in front of her, it was easy to tell none of the law force had fired the shot. Winry looked up.
There were three - no, four figures there, on the edge of the roof of one of the ware houses, one very animalistic and small, while another had two buns on the sides of its head with a few thin braids dangling down. The third had one bun perched on the back of its head, and the fourth had long, spiked hair pulled back into a sloppy pony tail. Winry flinched when she noticed the sniper's rifle in the third person's grasp, still aimed at Scar's body as if expecting him to rise once again. It took several moments of fear and uncertainty until Winry realized who it was who had dealt Scar his last blow.
But what were they-
"Winry-san!" Ling's voice chimed down at her. "Hello there! Are you quite all right?"
"L-Ling?" she said weakly, squinting to see his face clearly. He tutted at her,
"Please don't use our names here, Winry-san! But wasn't my subordinates' aim wonderful? Right in the temple!"
His head turned to glance at the police force, which was scrambling to regain itself and remove the dead bodies from the vicinity. After assuring himself that they weren't paying attention, he continued.
"Yes, as you might have guessed, we're all here! Even-"
"Don't say my name out loud, fool!" was a hiss from the head containing two buns. It turned its attention to Winry, "Winry-san, do you remember me?"
"Mei Cha- I mean, is that you?" Winry tried to pull a bit of strength into her voice, but Scar's still-pooling blood was very distracting to watch.
"Certainly!"
The police seemed to have at last organized themselves, the men there dusting themselves off and squinting through the dark, attempting to see what had just occurred. Ling noticed immediately and called down, voice still cheerful,
"We'll be waiting for you at your apartment, Winry-san! See you there!"
The four shapes launched off of the roof quickly, darting off into the night by leaping delicately on each warehouse, quickly fading into the night.
"Wait a minute, you damn bastards!" Edward called out hoarsely, but it was useless - they were already gone. "Ugh..."
He slumped onto the cement, one hand still trying to stem the bleeding from the wound.
"Edward," Winry said, her voice soft, "Um, y-your shirt..."
"Right, right," he muttered, attempting to straighten himself and pull it over his head. Edward thrust the bloody article of clothing into Winry's hands, apparently not concerned with modesty as he did not blush, while, unfortunately, she did. With shaky hands, she began to tear the cloth into strips, freezing when Scar's blood at last began to lap at her feet. Glancing back fearfully, she whispered,
"Let's move away from here."
"Best idea you've had all night," he remarked sarcastically, struggling to stand as she did. After a few seconds, he gave up and allowed himself to lean on Winry, who was having a bit of trouble supporting them both. He also didn't seem to feel sympathetic at all; she could tell his full weight was into it as he leaned.
They made their way around a couple of corners until they felt that the police would be unable to find them too easily, Winry going back to her task of tearing her father's shirt into strips as she sat, slouched against a brick wall. Anything to keep her mind off of what had just occurred. Her arms snaked around Edward's torso and back, repeatedly wrapping bandages around his wound.
"At least the bullet went clean through," Winry tried to remain optimistic, although her eyes strayed to the disgusting bandages still on his left upper arm and, from what she had seen, his back. "It won't take too long to heal...although it would be better to take you to a hospital to get professional help..."
She shook her head.
"Baa-chan would be furious with me. Never mind."
Winry failed to notice Edward's growing agitation until he tightly grasped her shoulders; the only part of his face she was able to see were his eyes, brilliant and gold. They were ignited with anger and the receding shock they had both experienced earlier, and she tried to convince herself that she was imagining the concern that underlay the anger. She subconsciously felt her eyes begin to glaze over in fear as he opened his mouth to speak.
"You idiot!" he raged at her, shaking her furiously and bringing her face precariously close to his. "What the hell were you doing by yourself out here?! That damn bastard and his little friends came and tell me you were out here all alone with a fucking - God, a fucking gun, and that I should just come right now, so that you wouldn't get yourself fucking killed, dammit! That was Scar, there! Even though he's dead now, you could've gotten a bullet to the brain or something, and yet you went out anyway?! Do you know...aw, fuck it!"
All that Winry knew was that the back of her head was throbbing terribly from colliding with the brick wall behind her, her
shoulders were aching from the pressure from his hands, and that her lips were being crushed painfully by his.
It was anything but pleasant. It wasn't even remotely romantic - she was too dazed by the previous events to be even fully aware that it was happening. His lips didn't even taste good, not at all like those stupid romance novels said they always did. No, Edward's lips were dirty, chapped (even split in one place) and he tasted like cigarettes and tobacco and blood. She might have been disgusted with the "kiss" if she was completely conscious of herself.
Edward drew away almost as quickly as he had dove forward, eyes lowering themselves towards the ground as he stood up; Winry didn't miss the way he flinched as he did. She couldn't tell if he was blushing or not. However, Winry, at the moment, was too numb to tell if she herself felt even remotely embarrassed.
"Let's just fucking go to your apartment," he growled impatiently, pupils narrowing into a glare.
"Okay," she said dumbly, standing up along-side him, absent-mindedly wiping his blood from her bruised lips with the back of her hand. Said hand reached up to feel the back of her head, which she quickly retracted at the pain. A good-sized lump was present there, and Winry bit her bottom lip in slight concern as her intellect began coming back her. She quickly regretted the decision as the bruising began to ache more painfully.
"Um," Winry decided to speak up after they had been walking for a few minutes. "I'm sorry to say this now, but I don't know how to get back to the apartment."
"I know that," Edward snapped, "that's why I'm walking in front of you, even with this damn hole in me. You shouldn't even be trying to find your way around here, if you don't know how to get home. It's actually very sad that I know the way to your apartment when you don't."
His voice may have contained a sneer- she couldn't exactly tell. His tone may have even contained amusement at the irony of the situation. Winry was too tired to see if she could interpret him properly.
They continued to walk in silence for the remainder of the time, her brow furrowing in concern when ever he let out a pained grunt. Edward would brush her off and continue forward, and, with little other options, she would follow behind him. The blood on her knees, bare feet, and hands was beginning to dry, and it was terribly irritating to her skin, but she didn't want to show it - afraid it would be interpreted as a weakness by the boy in front of her who continued to walk (stumbling every once in a while) with a bullet wound in his gut. Something else tugged at her stomach, but the emotion was so foreign, and with her foggy mind, she couldn't label it properly. Deciding to ignore it, Winry nearly let out a yelp as she realized she was actually beginning to get left behind, Edward already a few good meters in front of her and turning a corner.
She broke out into a run, wincing every time her feet would find a shard of glass or an excess of piece of garbage to step on, panting by the time she had reached Edward's back again. He stopped in slight surprise, glancing over his her shoulder to see her wheezing form. The older Elric seemed to relax, and they continued walking for a few more minutes, before they emerged into the comforting familiarness of Winry's neighborhood.
"This is it, right?" he grunted as they came to a stop in front of her apartment building.
"Y-yeah," she murmured, suddenly filled with dread as she realized all the lights were on in her apartment, even at this late hour. Her grandmother was definitely awake, unless Ling didn't feel like being inconspicuous.
Edward let out a non-committal snort,
"Come on, then. I have to kick that bastard's ass."
"R-right."
For those of you who think this story will be over soon...-points and laughs- You couldn't be more wrong, dearies!
