it wasn't that i was scared as much as it was i didn't believe . . .
THREE. RED SEA
I watched my friends hit the road, backing up as far as the parking lot. This whole charade left me in a gray haze, but the sound of distant motorcycles put my body on red alert. As the dust cloud cleared, I saw fully well four boys, all way older than me. Nervously, I looked back at Alfons beckoned his friends back, wading in the sand as if a killer shark might jump out and eat them.
I guessed in a past life this motorcycle gang must have been the sharks.
As they stopped moving, the tallest one (I suspect their leader) jumped off, striding towards the small group of girls like a peacock with its tail feathers out. Rose looked desperately at me, fear filling her dark irises.
"Hey, baby," said leader purred, taking Rose's chin in his hand and stroking her cheekbone. With fighting gusto, she broke free, glaring heatedly at him.
"Leave me alone, Russell." Though she tried sounding strong, her cracked voice signaled she was very near tears. Russell seemed to pick up on that, too, for he grabbed her waist and pulled Rose into him.
"C'mon, baby, just one ride?" She struggled from his grasp, and things got violent when Russell started forcefully pulling her towards the horde of bikes.
I wasn't going to let that happen. No way. "Hey! Leave her alone!"
Then things got ugly really fast. Russell pushed his ex girlfriend away, meeting my eyes with hatred. "What did you say?" But before I could even mutter an apology, he started advancing towards me, his gang of buddies following closely behind. Rose shrieked, begging them to stop and leave me a lone.
Russell was a lot taller than I was. His clean cut blonde hair flapped in the invisible breeze, deep ocean eyes hidden behind aviator sunglasses. He wore a bomber jacket, along with a full necklace of god knows what kind of teeth. If his appearance didn't warn me to be wary, his voice did the trick.
For anyone who had brains.
"I asked, what did you say?" Gulping, I tried finding my voice.
"L-leave, ah, her a-alone." It wasn't as macho as I hoped it would be. Pretty pathetic, actually.
It just went downhill from here. I took a step towards him, trying to seem taller and frightening. Russell laughed in my face, turning to his pals. "Hey, guys! Shrimp here thinks I'm scared of him!"
That's when I noticed the symbol tattooed into his right hand. A Transmutation circle.
These guys were Alchemists.
Perfect.
He taunted me, wagging his pointer finger in a "come hither" motion. "Does shwimpy wanna pway?" I growled, snarling. "Oh, looks like the dust speck has a nice set of chompers, there."
That's when I lost it. I lunged at him, crying out in rage and humiliation. Russell didn't expect this, and fell backwards from my punch, his sunglasses laying in a broken heap off to the side. Russell touched the welting bruise, smiling as his fingers collected a thin stream of blood. He turned his head, eyes full of mischief.
"So, you want to fight, do you?" His cold snarl sent shivers down my spine. Before I knew what was going on I was on my stomach, blood cascading down my chin from a split lip.
I struggled to stand, and when I finally did they advanced once more. I put my arms up, something I'd learned in a very basic martial arts class during the rehabilitation.
For some reason, Russell just laughed harder. "Awh, Shrimpy puts up a good fight, yes he does. Look, he gave me a black eye!"
He made me angrier and angrier, so I launched myself at him again, not even coming close before Russell back kicked me and sent me sailing over five feet in the air. I winced landing with a loud thud, I saw Rose beg him to stop, and I heard him swear and do something that sounded like…
Like a slap.
To my Rose. No way was he going to treat her like that while I was alive.
While I was down on the ground, I traced a crude transmutation circle, something I'd learned in those Alchemy books from dad. Putting my hands on the side, I willed something, anything to happen; it worked.
I stood up again, my nose almost broken and bleeding, lip busted, and a spear clutched between my fingers.
You could say I was pretty damn mad.
Russell looked shocked, and a bit intimidated, giving my partially damaged ego the strength to render forward. A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do.
So I ran at him, my very crude spear pointed right at his face. For a split second I thought I'd won; he hadn't put up any defenses against it.
But I couldn't have been more wrong.
He Jumped up, spun around, and hook kicked me right across the cheek, his spiked boot tearing my skin and leaving five, very long gashes.
But before I had fallen to the ground, he waved his tattooed hand and like magic a huge machete appeared from the sand. I gasped, clutching my side where I swore six ribs broke, and ducked.
He never had the chance to stab me. Rose grabbed him and gave him a forceful and passionless kiss. He dropped his knife and grabbed her, as if forcing his body to mesh with him as he very violently made out with my new found crush.
"I'll go with you, but just stop this, please." He nodded, waving his hit man off of me, who stopped socking me in the stomach. The minute they let me go I threw up, probably from the abuse they gave my poor stomach. The vomit hit one guy's shoe, and he gave my face a swift kick, proceeding to follow Russell back to the motor bicycles.
The left me, gasping for air on that cool, white sand, bleeding from every area you could possibly bleed from. I didn't know how long it was, but it was dark by the time I had the courage to stand up and walk all the way home.
I shoved the apartment door open. It hurt, even considering my arm wasn't as bashed up as it could be. I didn't even look at my mom, who was fussing with Mr. Mustang about our broken faucet. He'd been over a lot lately…
"Hi Ed-… Oh my god! What happened, baby?" I hated it when she called me that. Dashing towards me, she cupped my face in her hands, forcing me to look at her. "Oh no… God, Ed…"
I pushed her away. I wasn't in the mood for her babying, and she wouldn't be leaving me alone anytime soon. So I replied with the flattest excuse I could. "Mom, I ran into a pole, okay? I'm fine." Lies.
"That must have been one violent pole. Tell me the truth." her worried expression stung; I felt bad for hiding my problems, but I knew Mom would get involved faster than a race-car on a speedway. The last thing I needed were more bruises. I rubbed my bleeding cheek. The scratches felt rough and ragged, leaving my fingers covered in blood.
Mom went into a frenzy, practically throwing each drawer open as she searched for a first aid kit. No cigar. I sighed, trying my best not to wince as I adventured to our couch, flopped on it, turned the now repaired radio and tried to block out today's events. I listened to Al and Mom complain about the first aid kit crisis. To my baffled belligerence, Mustang didn't say a word, didn't even look at me. I supposed he didn't need to, Mom filled him in with her shrieks and worried-chatter.
"Mrs. Elric, your faucet is all fixed." The longest sentence I had ever heard him speak. He bowed, gave him a twenty, and continued searching. But Mustang stopped at our door, turning around, his black eyes compassionate and caring. "If you want, I can bring Edward down to the garden. I have a kit there."
"Oh, could you? Thank you so much, Mr. Mustang. You don't know how much better I feel." Her voice was so annoying.
He smiled at her and beckoned me to follow him. However nervous around this guy I felt, he had the medicine. God knows I needed it.
But we didn't go back to the shack. He led me past it to sophisticated-looking house a few miles off. I guessed it was where he lived. As we entered, I was surprised to see so many different assortments of flowers. Blues, yellows, reds, all different varieties. Then I realized Mustang wasn't just the maintenance man, but the gardener as well.
That's why the apartment looks so good outside. I had a sudden deep respect for the man.
He pointed to a couch in the far corner and ordered, "sit." Not asked, not suggested. Ordered. I scoffed at him, tossing my blonde braid over my shoulder and proceeded to fall back into it, when he stopped me again. Just like the radio incident. "I said sit." Well, fine. I sat. This guy was a pain in the ass.
Leaving me there, Mustang headed for the next room, and from where I was it looked like a bathroom. I was sure this guy had bathrooms everywhere.
While he searched, I collected my bearings. The townhouse was beautiful, windows outlined in silk drapes and many, many book cases. It felt homey and inviting; I almost fell asleep staring. I sat in the entry way, huge marble columns held the ceiling above me like two great Atlas'. It was impressive.
He came back with some gauze and string, which I guessed was to stick the wounds closed. I had hoped it wouldn't come to that. Mustang sat next to me, gently grabbing my chin and turning my face towards him. "Hmmm," he muttered, inspecting my bruised jaw and slashed temple. "You'll be fine." His reassurance didn't help any.
Slowly, he started patching me up, rubbing alcohol into my cuts as to make sure they didn't get infected. He worked silently and diligently; I didn't even talk to him. Secretly, this man gave me the creeps.
I tried starting a conversation. The silence was killing me slowly. "So, I hear you used to work for the military?" He shook his head and waved my question off.
"That was then." We said no more after that.
With my feeling slightly hurt, I moved my attention away from the pain in my head to my arm, the metal one, of course. Testing the joins, relief flooded me when I found nothing broken. Russell may have done more damage if he actually knew about my limbs. I felt a pang of curiosity in my stomach, turning to Mr. Mustang. "Hey. Have you ever worked with automail?" When he didn't respond, I assumed the answer was no.
"If you don't stop talking and moving, your cuts won't heal as fast." What a jerk.
He was obviously interested; I saw the way he looked at my arm the first day in Central. I obeyed him, trying not to watch as he knotted the thread holding my cut together. Mustang put some adhesive tape over them to keep the skin from moving around, finally retreating to the bathroom once more.
"H-Hey! What do I do now?" I yelled, but shouting just made my lip hurt more.
He turned around and glared. "Don't get up and lie on your stomach." Why?
Sighing, I obeyed his commands, flopping my useless automail arm over the side of the couch. He came back with a box of nuts, bolts, screws, and who knows what else? He grunted, dropping the heavy box way too close to my head. "I'm going to fix your arm. I can see the metal's dented and it hasn't had a tune up in a while." I pouted.
"But I have a mechanic back home, and she usually -" Too late. Mustang was diligent as well as stubborn.
"You need to take care of yourself better." I turned my head away, not wanting to meet his eyes. "Country boys need to learn about life in the city." Ha ha ha. I scoffed at that.
However, I did feel peaceful sitting here with him. The moon shone through the curtains, soaking us in a beautiful bath of dry light. From the combination of strobe lights and the soft sound of grinding medal, I soon felt very drowsy. One little nap wouldn't hurt, now would it? With memories of a life long ago, I felt into a light slumber, partly from the abuse Russell gave me, partly for the fact that Mr. Mustang's hands were gently massaging my shoulders, so I thought nothing of it and nodded off.
When I awoke I was back in my own bed, the sun glaring down from between the curtains, and a small note taped to the side of my desk. Picking it up, I recognized it as a very complex transmutation circle, something I wasn't used to seeing on my own. Under it, there was something written, but I had no problem making out the beautiful calligraphy.
Edward,
You might find this useful next time.
~ Roy Mustang
A/N: okay, let's take an "aww" break. One, two, three, AWWWWW! XD gimme reviews, you lazy readers. AND USEFUL ONES, TOO, PLEASE. Or else I won't update for a VERY LONG TIME. and sorry about my Ed-bashing. Russell was a lot more violent than either Cheng or Johnny.
AND OI, I NEED A BETA READER, SO ANYONE WHO IS INTERESTED PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW AND LET ME KNOW !