A/N: So hopefully you've all seen my previous rants about the sectioning issue. In order to attempt to create sections, and not have FFN screw me over once again, I'm attempting a new method. When you see this: **NS** ….it stands for "New Scene". I'll be trying this out for a while. If you believe it doesn't work very well in sectioning the chapter please let me know and I'll find some other method that'll work better.
Enjoy!
**NS**
Sam placed a hand over the ear that wasn't attached to the phone in order to muffle out the sounds all around him. The clatter of dishes as Sid cleaned them, the clanging of the shop-bell as random stragglers made their way inside to buy meat, Dean and Izumi's raised voices from time to time when he smarted off to her about something. He'd snuck whiskey into the house at some point upon his return from "running some errands". Izumi had made it perfectly clear that she detested any form of consumption that could eventually destroy the body she'd trained them to know how to take better care of. Alcohol was at the top of the list, below it was smoking. Unhealthy foods almost made it on the list, but judging by the contents of the meat shop she didn't have much room to lecture in that regard, so instead latched onto Dean's drinking habits instead. Dean himself was none too pleased about this, one of his best friends happened to be a Mr. Jack Daniels, and he liked to visit him from time-to-time. But Mr. Daniels would have to wait until they were gone from this house…if Dean didn't die of withdrawal symptoms beforehand.
Sam shook his head, rolling his eyes at all the racket. It was difficult enough to concentrate on what Al was saying period, much less what he was telling of the ill-famed State Alchemist killer Scar. According to the Elric's he was Ishvalan, a race of people that reminded Sam of the Jews during the Holocaust. The Ishvalans had been a peaceful people until the Uprising in the East, when the military had stepped in and all hell had broke loose. They were in some ways almost extinct, a great number of them having been annihilated during the war, much like the Jews when Hitler had struck down. But according to Al there were still small groups scattered across the country, many had sought refuge in camps where they worked together to survive living off the land and bearing with less-than-mediocre living arrangements. Sam didn't feel much sympathy towards them outside of the harsh treatment they'd been dealt, after all he had no connections with them on any level, he'd only just heard of them. But he had to admit…..and wonder….if the Ishvalan/Jew similarities ran deeper than he'd previously believed…right up to the top of the hierarchy pyramid. You didn't have a bloody war occur without a fearless leader to command the troops on one side, and from Sam had heard Bradley had reigned as Fuhrer for many years.
"Sam? You still there?"
The younger Winchester had been so wrapped up in his thoughts that he'd barely noticed Al had been trying to get his attention for the last minute or so. However there'd been plenty of distractions lately. "Sorry Al…it's noisy over here," he offered lamely, knowing that Al wouldn't hold it against him but still felt the need to offer an explanation.
Bradley. Since the incident with the homunculus Greed there hadn't been any level of military-related visits to the Curtis' home (thankfully) save for Major Armstrong, but his intentions had leaned toward friendly rather than strictly business. Sam was fine with not having the Fuhrer around, it meant that he wasn't stuck with that weird feeling of foreboding every time the man came near him. The only problem was that Ed and Al were technically military. Ed was the one linked through his State Alchemist title, and Alphonse being his partner more or less was associated with the military as Ed's (almost) equal. It was hard to think of one being superior to the other, in fact the boys didn't really give off a military-vibe at all. If it were not for Ed's pocket-watch Sam would've found it hard to believe he was even a State Alchemist much less a military official with a rank similar to that of a Major.
Al had explained their dealings with Armstrong and this other military official named Hughes, a Lieutenant-Colonel with an affinity for the cuteness that was his one and only beloved daughter Alicia. Al had not gone into extreme detail but from what Sam gathered of his minor insertions of Hughes-centered trivia in their conversations the man was a mess, but a good mess. He was a loving father, wonderful husband, and he could level with kids as though he were a kid himself, but there was no denying he was good at his job. You didn't get to the rank of Lieutenant-Colonel by advertising your child's cuteness that was for sure.
"So tell me again, about his alchemy, how does that work?" Sam could hear Dean's raised voice as he argued that whiskey was medicinal in its own way and that it didn't hurt to have a drink every once in a while to calm his nerves.
It was one Ishvalan in particular that had caught Sam's attention. Scar had ruthlessly attacked the Elrics, had almost killed him, but what had stumped Sam the most was the man's alchemical abilities.
"He shouldn't even be using alchemy," Al explained, his voice even, but Sam could tell he was growing tired of their conversation running in circles. "The Ishvalans believe that alchemy is a sin against their God, Ishvala, and they despise it because of that. Scar even said that he believed it to be a sin…..but he still tried to kill us with it."
"And his arm…did you get a good look at it?" Al had mentioned that Scar's brand of alchemy was lacking a circle just as Ed's did. The only explanation for that was that either Scar knew something that they didn't…..or there was another name they needed to add to the Human Transmutation Club.
"No," Al replied, the hollow sound of his voice (aside from how his armor affected it) gave the impression of disappointment. "He was wearing a jacket, both of his arms were covered."
Sam cursed inwardly, but he sighed outwardly. "I feel like we keep taking one step forward only to be knocked a couple steps back."
"Yeah" was Al's only form of response, which lead Sam to believe that a change of topic was needed.
"So…what about this guy from Xing? You mentioned something about Alkahestry."
The opportunity to focus on something else helped to brighten Al's mood. "We're definitely going to look into it. Ling couldn't tell us anything, he didn't even know much about it himself. But should be able to find something."
"Does this mean you're headed for Central soon?" Sam knew that research meant books, the kind of books best found in the libraries in Central.
"Seems so. Does this mean you and your brother will be returning?" Al sounded almost hopeful for a positive response. Sam nearly chuckled at the possibility that the younger Elric just might have grown used to having them around. Ed not so much, but he was slowing making a one-eighty. He wasn't as awful as he'd been before when they first encountered each other.
There was indeed a fair reason for a rendezvous a la Hunters in Central. Since Bobby's latest discovery about the alchemical symbols it was necessary for them to dive in and hit the books as thoroughly as possible. Bobby couldn't give them anymore to go by other than that the symbols of both the Enochian language and alchemy were similar. He'd reassured the two of them that he would dig deeper and analyze them as best he could, but he'd hinted it would be nice to have a little help to lighten the load a bit.
"If you two mutts are done playing Bill Nye it'd be nice to have you open a book or two here," he'd told them both in his usual polite-yet-commanding sort of way.
They already had their tickets, part of Dean's "errands" had included booking their next train-ride. Izumi had appeared almost indifferent to their sudden need for departure, if Sam wasn't mistaken she actually seemed almost miffed by the change of plans. She must've believed they would stay on a little longer, build up more on their alchemy training. He had to wonder if in some ways she was making up for lost time with the Elrics by taking care of the Winchesters. He knew she missed them, even though she gave every impression that she wasn't hurting, it bothered her that the Elrics were off on their own, facing who knows what. If it wasn't for Sid, she'd more than likely sink into some minor form of depression. She may be the tougher one, but he was her rock, that much was clear.
"Yeah we'll be there," Sam answered finally, almost laughing aloud when Izumi called Dean an "abominable troglodyte on a mission of self-assassination". He had to give her points for that one.
"Great! You'll finally get to meet Winry," Al replied eagerly, almost too eager.
"Well if she's anything like you described this trip will at least be worth the entertainment," Sam replied jokingly, thinking back on Al's description of the mechanically-inclined Winry Rockbell…..and how she and Ed were always at each other's throats.
Considering the fact that Ed and Dean were so similar, Sam had to wonder if she'd take to his brother the way she took to Al's. Which was, as far as Al was concerned, violently.
Sam and Al exchanged quick goodbyes before hanging up. The younger hunter wondered briefly if maybe they were rushing things a bit, after all they were not even close to being prepared to use alchemy in the real world in a professional manner if necessary. What if something went wrong? Izumi was like a lifeline for them in regards to alchemy. Even though she had agreed to keep them on as pupils (though they were leaving for a short time), it wasn't as though they could call her every now and then to make sure they were doing things right.
This was it. The big test. What Sam had done back in that alley when they'd fought the lizard-man had been minor compared to what they might have to do in Central. It wouldn't be absolutely necessary for them to engage into some kind of battle, but should an incident as such occur, were they truly prepared for it? Could they pull this off?
Izumi had told them she would keep them on as pupils, but if they caused any trouble or abused their alchemy for any reason, they would be instantly expelled the moment she got wind of it. Sam's main concern was whether or not they would get their circles right and transmute in the manners they were taught. The idea of screwing up so badly they were expelled did nothing to lessen his stress. There was some detachment to that particular burdensome thought, he didn't truly believe they would actually go so far as to commit some unspeakable act….but what if they did?
Alchemy was a powerful thing, and like any form of power it can have a drug-like affect on its user. Ed and Al had become figuratively drunk on the potential ability to defy the laws of nature and resurrect their mother. They'd been children at the time, but intelligent enough to know what to do.
With great power, comes great responsibility.
Of all the awful and stressful events to have occurred, not to mention their stranded state, nothing scared Sam more at the moment than the possibility of misusing all that he'd learned in the last few months. He'd been drunk with power before, and look at where he'd ended up. Lucifer had been set free, and Sam had felt as though he should've been dead. For a short time he'd actually considered the idea of just ending it all, cutting himself loose from Dean so that his brother wouldn't have to carry the burden of having a treacherous sibling. It had been all he could do not to drink himself to sleep every night, or worse. His guilt had been so unbearable it had nearly choked him. He'd wanted to make things right, had made things right in a way. And he was going to make things right this time.
Except this time he was going to play it smarter. He may be Sam Winchester, the demon-blood child and Lucifer's true vessel. But he was also Sam Winchester, the son of the great John Winchester, the younger brother of Dean Winchester. The adopted son of Robert Singer. He came from a family of heroes that made great sacrifices, that played the game the way it should be played. And they'd come out victorious, some even died for it.
Sam may not be able to make things as right as they once were, but he'll be damned before he let the family name become even more tarnished. He wanted to make his dad proud.
No…he wanted to make Dean proud. Even if it meant groaning their way through all the extra stuff that came with it.
The Devil would be wearing long-johns in a frozen Hell before Sam Winchester allowed for defeat this time.
**NS**
Of the two other cities they'd visited so far, neither of them could compare to the bustling metropolis that was Central. There was a pulse to the city that even Lior couldn't match, a sense of vitality that made Sam think of New York City. Noisy cars, crowded restaurants, parks dotted with couples and dog-owners out for a walk next to the big pond, salesmen advertising anything from food to books. There was a snack cart on one particular sidewalk, and it was only natural that Dean be allowed the chance to buy "breakfast".
"Where're we meetin' 'em at?" He asked, his mouth half-crammed with a bite of sandwich.
"Al said they'd be visiting Central Command first," Sam glanced all around them. There was a pulsating sort of vibration to the atmosphere, but it wasn't due to the city-folk and their busy lives. No…..this was something else. Something almost….dark.
"You feel that?" He asked Dean, hoping that it wasn't Lucifer playing with his mind again.
"Feel what?" Dean looked behind him as though expecting to find someone standing there. Sam realized he must've though a girl had made a pass on him or something.
"It's…..it's like some kind of vibration…but in the air…" Sam looked around too, half-expecting to find something flying around above the city. Perhaps it was a plane with one of those obnoxiously loud engines that practically shook the ground before taking off. This was the early twentieth century, flying would not be as advanced as it was in the twenty-first century.
"Is that a sex-toy reference or are you just trolling me?" Dean asked him, frowning around his bite of hotdog before swallowing it down.
"No I mean it, there's something…..strange here…" He didn't look at Dean as he spoke, but instead continued surveying their surroundings.
"I swear this better not be one of your psychic episodes, I don't think I could handle that right now," Dean took another bite of his hotdog. "Tell you what, scratch that. If you can find me a single woman that's not looking for commitment, that'll be the only thing I'd be wanting your psychic mojo for at the moment."
Sam rolled his eyes but didn't respond beyond a sigh. Dean must be either in a really good mood because they were no longer under the watchful eye of Izumi, or he was feeling a tad more stressed out now that they had even more work to do. Sam guessed it was leaning more towards the former, considering Dean' had flashed him a glance of the flask in his jacket pocket as they'd left the house this morning. Izumi hadn't seen it, but Sam had a feeling she knew that Dean had it.
What was more pressing at the moment was whether or not they should meet up with the Elrics first or attempt to find Bobby at the Central Library. It was only out of respect to Al that Sam wanted to find the boys first, after all he was expecting to see them as soon as possible. But years of loyalty to the only true surrogate parent they had overpowered whatever loyalty was blooming between himself and the Elrics. Sam doubted that Dean felt any loyalty to them beyond what was expected of him in terms of Equivalent Exchange. If one set of brothers helped the other, naturally the second set would be expected to offer help in return. This was the code all alchemists lived by, and since the Winchesters were now partially-trained alchemists themselves, it was their code to live by as well.
"Let's go find Bobby," Sam hitched the strap of his duffel bag higher up on his shoulder. "We can catch up to those two later."
"Just let me grab another 'dog first. I'm starving for some reason," Dean grinned, heading back to the cart.
"Yeah it's not like you didn't eat much this morning," Sam called back jokingly, referring to Dean's "first breakfast" which had consisted of eggs, sausage, toast, bacon, biscuits and so on courtesy of Izumi as a form of a send-off. The hotdog was Dean's "second breakfast", reminding Sam of….
"Dude you're a friggin' Took," he chuckled at Dean upon his return.
"Did you just call me a tool?" Dean raised his eyebrows, chewing a bite of his second 'dog.
"No I meant that….never mind," Sam didn't feel like explaining it to him. It was a nerd thing after all.
They'd started walking again, making a right turn unto a (mostly) empty street. Whatever Dean would've snarked back with was cut short by a blur of yellow and red that turned a corner sharply and slammed right into Sam. Upon impact Sam's duffel bag slid off his shoulder and landed with a significant thump onto the asphalt. He looked down to see…Ed.
His head was lowered, bangs blocking the view of his face, but Sam could see that he was upset about something. There were small creases on what little of his forehead was exposed, and his eyes were wide with a kind of vulnerability. He was clearly out of breath given how he remained hunched over, gasping for air as though he'd ran several blocks. He immediately dropped to his knees, gloved hands curling into fists, one of which he punched into the ground, making Sam wince even though he knew it was the boy's metal hand and the gesture obviously hadn't hurt him one bit. Sam was about to ask him what was going on when the familiar clanking sound of Alphonse drew his attention upward once again to find the younger Elric rushing to catch up to his brother, a suitcase clasped tightly in one of his glove-hands.
"Ed wait!" He called after him, his voice clear and even, he didn't sound out of breath as Ed did. But why would he? Alphonse was a suit of armor after all, he didn't need to breath, he had no lungs to breath with. Still Sam thought it a bit unnerving that the kid had obviously ran quite a distance in order to catch up to his brother and yet he didn't appear tired at all.
Would he ever get used to Al in this way? As someone who wasn't quite alive yet very much a living part of this world?
"Brother…." Al slowed to a stop merely a few feet away from Ed, who had yet to give up his seat on the ground. His fist was still planted onto the asphalt, Sam could hear what sounded like the creak of leather when it was crushed in someone's grip and realized that Ed must be squeezing his fist so tight that his gloves just might tear under the strain.
"My fault….." Ed managed to say weakly, his gaze still trained downward. "….it's…it's all my fault…."
Sam didn't know to what he referred to, but the sight of Ed in this state tugged at him in a way he was familiar with. He was looking down, but it wasn't Ed he was seeing for a brief moment…it was Dean. All those times when Dean had been hurting….Sam hadn't truly known what to do. Dean always appeared so together, he was the toughest person Sam knew. Not that Sam never realized when Dean was hurting, but even during those times his brother still stood tall, like a warrior or a soldier. That was one of the reasons Sam had idolized Dean while they were growing up, because his brother seemed so indestructible, even when he was about to fall.
Unsure of how Ed would react, Sam carefully knelt down in front of the young alchemist. Ed may be tough, but underneath all that sarcasm and bravado, he was still just a kid. A kid that was hurting. And like a kid in pain, you're standing on a trapeze wire awaiting that one wrong move that will send you crashing down. You just hope that someone…anyone…had set up the safety net beforehand.
That's what Sam wanted to be for Ed just then….his safety net. He still wasn't sure why he did it, why he would even want to reach out to this kid, but just once he wanted to be the big brother for a change. He wanted to be depended on for comfort or support. Dean turned all of his pain inward so that it didn't affect others the way it did him, making it difficult for Sam to express any level of support so that his brother knew he was there. He was sure that Dean understood, but it was nice when he could play the dependable one for a change, the one that his brother could look up to.
In a way, it made him feel less helpless about his own problems, knowing that he could at least help someone else deal with their own demons.
Sam reached out slowly, cautiously, waiting for the moment when Ed would look up and glare at him upon seeing what he was trying to do. He gingerly laid his right hand on Edward's left shoulder, giving the boy a couple of seconds to register Sam's closer proximity to himself. The boy shuddered lightly at the hunter's touch, but made no move to push him away, instead he slid forward until his forehead rested against Sam's shoulder. It felt a little strange to do this, to have the young alchemist lean against him like a child would to his parent, but some part of it felt natural, as though for just a moment they weren't two alchemist from different worlds that argued from time-to-time. They were simply two humans, with human-oriented emotions, that needed subtle support once in a while.
So this is what it felt like, Sam mused silently. This is what it meant to be a big brother.
Ed allowed the contact for a moment or two longer before pulling away in order to stand up and brush the dirt from his pant-legs. Sam mimicked his actions, reaching to grab the duffel bag as he rose. Ed glanced up at him, his golden eyes weary and unfocused as he mumbled "sorry". Sam didn't see the need to apologize, but he had a feeling that Ed wouldn't be listening to him if he told him so. He seemed a bit out of it, kind of like how a sleepwalker appears in the midst of a late-night unconscious stroll.
Ed jammed his fists into his pockets and semi-circled around the Winchesters, being careful to avoid bumping into Dean as he went along. Even his stride appeared out of synch with his usual finesse and balance, he wobbled slightly as he turned. But then he turned a corner in the direction from where the Winchesters had just come and disappeared back into the flow of the city.
Al had watched the scene without a word, even when Ed had risen sluggishly to his feet and walked away he'd remained silent. Since Al's face appeared stoic no matter what, Sam could only go by what was in the younger boy's eyes in order to discern what could be going on in his head. There was a watery flicker to the illuminated orbs, and Sam realized that Al must be crying in his own unique way.
What had happened?
Dean was the one to ask the question aloud, "Al what's going on? What's with Ed?"
Al started a bit upon hearing Dean addressing him, hanging his head, the small orbs of light that were his eyes faded out a bit as though they were half-lidded. "Well…..it's…..I can't…."
"What is it Al?" Sam softened his voice, silently urging him to continue.
"Remember our friend?…..The Lieutenant-Colonel?…He's dead….Hughes is dead."
**NS**
"You see this here?" Bobby pointed to one of the symbols he'd drawn.
"What about it?" Dean asked, that particular question being one of the most commonly used tonight.
"Look again ya idjit. Notice anything?" Bobby replied, the beginnings of an agitated tone creeping into his voice.
Dean stared at the two symbols, the one Bobby was pointing at and its neighbor on the same page. The one on the left was an alchemical symbol, a Transmutation circle. It was red, circular with a triangle right-side-up in the middle, at the center of which was a mark similar in shape to a lightning bolt. At the top of the circle were two points that were facing either of the top sides of the triangle. Directly below the triangle was another point facing the bottom side of the triangle. All three points had a marking that jutted out of the circle's perimeter in a hook-like fashion but in straight lines rather than curves. The symbol on the right was one of the many Enochian symbols the boys had used over the years, most of which were involved in protection against the angelic host. They had acted as "heavenly devil's traps" so to speak, and had played a huge role in saving their lives a time or two. This particular symbol didn't have a circle, but it definitely had the same formula on a structural level. There was a triangle with three different points, each directly across the way from one of the three sides. However instead of a hook-like shape to the markings, each of these particular marks were different in style, but still appeared similar in formation as the letter "z".
"This three-point-marker-triangle thing pops up in several Enochian and Alchemy symbols," Sam pointed out, his fingers directing their attention towards the various other Alchemical symbols that had been drawn on a single sheet of paper. They were either red or white depending on the symbol, and quite a few of them had triangles in the center of a circle, with the three-point concept evident in their design. The first was a basic Transmutation circle, while the rest varied depending on their intended use.
They had paid for a room at the same hotel the Elric's were staying, but currently the trio was neck-deep in research material at the Central Library. Sam had wanted to catch up to the Elrics after their encounter in the alley, but upon realizing that Ed may want to be left alone by anyone other than Al, he'd decided against the thought. Now they were holed up in one of the many rooms in the library, books and papers scattered across two different tables, pencils laying here and there next to scraps of paper that had various sigils and circles drawn on them. They'd written a few notes down, but there wasn't quite enough information to crack the code of it all, the connection between the sigils and the circles. The foundation for Bobby's argument was the similarities that both types of symbols had in shape and design, but there was something missing, something that they desperately needed.
But what?
"Triangle means air right?" Dean inquired, nodding towards the Transmutation circle that Bobby had been referencing.
"Depends on the position of it," Bobby reminded him, "and the design."
"In witchcraft it's a right-side-up triangle with a line marked through near the top point," Sam mentioned, grabbing a pencil and drawing an example. "A regular right-side-up triangle, minus the line at the top, is the elemental symbol of fire."
"The reverse version of the witchy air-triangle is the elemental symbol for Earth," Bobby pointed out. "The reverse version of the witchy fire-triangle is the elemental symbol for water."
Sam stared at the protective symbols, developing a slight ache in his head as he always did when trying to read Enochian. It felt the same as attempting to read something on a television screen that flickered and was full of static, the letters and formation were familiar but you couldn't quite make it out. He had to admit this was quite a long-shot, trying to link the two "languages" together this way, but there was no denying there was some sort of connection there. He could feel it down in his bones, but without their usual resources this entire research project was becoming quite tedious.
"Do you think there's another way to read Enochian for other than what we've been using them for?" Sam mused, crossing his arms and biting on the end of his pencil. If it were at all possible to get muscle cramps in your brain, he was sure he was on the verge of developing one. The answer was right there, it had to be.
"What do you mean? Like how different transmutation circles mean different things? Or how one circle can mean several things?" Dean asked him, waving a hand over their handiwork.
"Symbolism is the toughest language to decipher," Bobby explained, "One symbol could stand for many things, and several symbols could stand for only one thing." He shook his head, "I just can't get my head around these two sets."
"You see this is why I could never be a writer," Dean chuckled, frowning. "One little thing could reference all kinds of bullshit and you never know which is the real deal. My Lit. teacher always yammered on about how 'Different phrases mean different things for everyone'."
Sam scoffed, "You mean you actually paid even the tiniest bit of attention in English?"
"Shut up Sam."
"Don't start that yapping again, we've got work to do here," Bobby said sternly, frowning pointedly at the two of them.
"My head friggin' hurts from staring at all this for….how the hell long has it been anyway?" Dean asked, the fingers of his left hand rubbing the T-section between his eyes.
Sam checked his watch, "Damn. Didn't realize how late it was."
"And we're getting nowhere with all this," Dean gestured at the stacks of books and papers. "Let's cool it until tomorrow okay? I'm starving."
"There's a dining room at the hotel, we can grab something on the way up to the room," Bobby replied, grabbing a handful of papers and books in preparation of cleaning up. Sam and Dean were on the verge of doing the same when the doors to the room suddenly burst open and a soldier came rushing in. He saluted them, though why they didn't know, and spoke in a clear and even voice despite the fact that he appeared to have ran all the way there.
"You are Sam and Dean Winchester correct?"
Stunned, the two boys slowly traded confused looks before returning their attention to the soldier and nodding.
"Your presence has been requested immediately at the Central Hotel by Edward Elric. He wishes to speak with you regarding an urgent matter."
Sam frowned, "What's wrong?"
The soldier remained stoic, "I'm not authorized to discuss the reasons for this request, however Major Elric didn't offer any explanations, just that I implore you to please hurry sirs."
Hearing a military official refer to them as "sirs" was strange but not out-of-character. Sam gave a curt nod, "We'll leave right away."
The soldier saluted them again and walked hastily from the room, closing the door behind him. Sam and Dean glanced at each other than turned to face Bobby.
He shrugged, "You might as well get going, I'll clean up here."
Sam nodded, wondering if perhaps something terrible had happened. What if Ed had hurt himself or got himself mixed up in a dangerous situation? After all he'd only just found out that a close friend of his had been murdered, it was a (weak) possibility that he may do something irrational that could get him injured or worse. However Ed didn't appear the type to seek out danger when he was upset. From what Sam had witnessed, he either spazzed out with a rant or drew inwardly to himself and refused to open up. Still that didn't erase the possibility that something bad had happened.
"Did you see how he saluted us?" Dean interrupted Sam's thoughts to ask jokingly, a sly grin on his boyish face. "That was pretty cool."
"You would get your ego stroked by that," Sam scoffed, grabbing his duffel-bag from one of the chairs, checking to make sure it was zipped up all the way.
"What you didn't feel all-powerful when he did that? Even for a second? It was like we could've ordered him to do anything we wanted just then." When Sam didn't respond Dean shook his head, "You're not fun man."
There was no time to waste, they had to get moving and fast. Sam snatched his jacket from the same chair his bag had resided and made for the door, not bothering to check of Dean was following him.
Once in the hallway Sam heard Bobby call after them, "Don't go getting yourselves killed!"
**NS**
In a darkened room somewhere in the city, bathed in the eerie glow of a single dangling lamp, two darkly figures conversed casually amidst the hum of animal noises. Stacks of cages were spread all around, each containing one or two chimeras of various designs. Strikingly dissimilar in many ways, one constant that remained were the characteristics of their eyes, little red orbs that glowed. They were not quite intelligent, merely scratching and clawing at each other as well as the bars of their cages. But there was indeed a calculating air to their movements, a sense of readiness in anticipation of a kill.
Ignoring all these sounds, the two figures, Lust and Envy, continued their conversation regarding the latest incident of the death of Maria Ross at the hand of Col. Roy Mustang. Having recently been convicted of Hughes' murder, she'd been charged and booked, awaiting her fate in the Central Prison. However some counteractive events occurred, which consisted of Maria Ross taking her fate into her own hands with the help of a stranger who aided in her escape. No one yet knew the identity of this unknown figure, but it was a safe bet amongst the military that the person was a criminal as well.
Then again, other rumors had begun to formulate. One of which painted a cryptic picture of the famous war-hero of a Colonel.
"After a daring escape, the fugitive is killed by Colonel Mustang, eager to avenge his best friend." Envy appeared quite gleeful while reminiscing the events of the night, finding pleasure in chaos as usual, "And all's well that ends well."
"Are you so sure about that?" Lust was reclined against a stack of empty cages, arms folded and regarding envy with minute concern. "The plan was supposed to be designed to get Mustang to behave himself."
Envy was visibly disappointed in Lust's lack of faith, but quickly recovered with a grin, "He took the bait, now he doesn't have a reason to snoop around anymore. Besides, we did manage to sow some animosity. His subordinates won't trust him much after this."
A slithery grin crept onto Lust's face, "True. Hopefully he'll be a good boy from now on."
"Now on to more pressing matters," Envy suddenly became serious, though the grin remained ever so slightly. "What's to be done of those two boys?"
"The Winchesters?" Lust's grin disappeared, replaced with a thoughtful look. "Wrath believes they may conclude to be troublesome. He's Seen what they truly are, gifted as he is with that Eye." She touched a finger to her chin, pondering, "That Sam boy interests me the most. According to Wrath he's…different."
"Different how?" Envy inquired, resting a hand on his hip and regarding Lust with a bemused expression.
"I'm not sure, but we better keep an eye out on them," Lust's grin returned. "After all Father believes they could prove to be of some use."
Envy's grin faded slightly as he contemplated something, then it returned more fully and really showing his teeth. "If they prove to be troublesome…..why not put them on a leash as well?"
Lust's eyes seemed to curve in anticipation of Envy's next words, "Enlighten me."
"Well," Envy's grin seemed to grow impossibly wider, "how about we have some fun with that old man of theirs?"
**NS**
"Damn it's eerie out here," Dean turned up his collar against the wind, stuffing his fists into his jacket pockets. Somehow, between the time they'd first left Central up until their return, the temperature had dropped quite a few degrees. Nothing too serious, but it was enough to feel chilly at night.
"Do you think Bobby can figure out the connection between the symbols?" Sam asked, eyes sweeping across their surroundings. That feeling he'd had earlier upon entering back into Central was still going strong, though he'd been hoping to ignore it as much as possible. He'd been successful in that regard whilst neck-deep in research, but now that his nose was out of a book and he wasn't concentrating strongly something else, the vibe had come rushing back like a fierce wave. Though much like his suspicion of the Fuhrer, there wasn't much he could do about this strange feeling of the city, so he chose to keep it to himself once again.
"Honestly I think this whole thing is bigger than even Bobby can handle," Dean admitted, though he appeared disgusted at the thought that there was something Bobby was incapable of dealing with. Most children believed their parents, usually the father, to be practically indestructible, and that nothing could thwart them. Sam and Dean weren't children, but at times it was almost too easy to slip into that child-oriented mentality.
"I hope not," Sam replied, turning up his own collar now that the wind was beginning to really pick up. "Otherwise we're more screwed than we already are."
"I didn't think we could get any more screwed," Dean muttered, Sam choosing to ignore the comment. He didn't want to start that argument again, not now.
The hotel was only a few blocks from the library and, given how late it was at this point, there was a possibility that the dining room was closed, which Sam knew would only piss Dean off. However upon entering they came to discover that it was in fact still open, and Sam left Dean to order some food to bring back upstairs while he went ahead to meet up with the Elric's. He remembered Al mentioning that their family-friend Winry was accompanying them this time and that she was staying in a room close to their own. Sam had a reason to believe that, given their closeness to her, she might be included in whatever conversation that was going to take place tonight. However he also had reason to believe that Ed would've kept certain facts to himself regarding these two boys he'd only just met a few months ago. Still there was a possibility that Ed had told her the Winchesters' secret, but Sam had no way of knowing just how much she would know without talking to Al in private first.
Which was impossible given the fact that he was sitting on a couch next to the famous Winry, the two of them seated across from another couch which was presently occupied by a lounging Edward Elric. He sat up the moment Sam had entered the room, motioning for him to sit. Looking pointedly past the taller man's shoulder he asked, "Where's Dean?"
"Doing what he does best," Sam shrugged out of his jacket and draped it over the arm of the couch, "grabbing something to eat. He'll be up in a minute." He sat down next to Ed, elbows resting on his knees, hands folded out in front him, awaiting their next move.
"Oh," Al seemed suddenly conscious that Winry was present, he gestured at her with a gloved hand, "Sam this is Winry Rockbell, she's a friend of ours from Risembool."
Winry, from what Sam could tell, was supposedly an inch or two taller than Ed. She had light blue eyes and blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail that when let down Sam was sure it reached to her lower back. Her ears were pierced and she wore a white top with a black skirt and boots that reached her knees. Her face was oval in shape, and she didn't appear to be wearing any makeup, which wasn't exactly strange but not quite common amongst teenage girls, and supposedly she was about the same age as Al.
She gave a kind smile at Sam, "It's a pleasure to meet you Sam. Al's told me a bit about you, and your brother."
Just how much did she know then? "Nice to meet you too," Sam gave a half-smile, despite her obvious want to put him at ease the situation was still slightly awkward to say the least.
"Thank you for coming," Ed replied, surprising both Sam and the other two, the three of them mutually understanding that Ed wasn't always this polite. It surprised Sam the most because he wasn't used to hearing phrases like that from Ed.
"Uh….sure," Sam offered as a response, not sure how else to reply. Thinking back on something, he chose this moment to ask, "What's with the formality that soldier showed us? I thought they only saluted fellow military personnel?"
Edward shrugged, "It felt necessary to tell them you are our allies, which in a sense puts you in the same rank as myself. I guess they believed you must be close to the title of a Major and thought to show you the proper respect in that regard."
It seemed logical, if not a bit irrational. However Sam was saved from further comment by the return of Dean, using his boot to tap against the door as a way of knocking. Sam made quick work of opening the door, standing back to give his brother room to shuffle his way in carrying a few bags.
"Anyb'dy 'ungry?" He asked through his teeth which were clamped shut holding another paper bag. Dean began laying out his bagged culinary treasures on the coffee table, opening the bag he'd had in his mouth to reveal a small cardboard tray supporting four cups of steaming hot tea. Dean must not have been conscious about the fact that Al couldn't drink anything. Al, in attempt to put him at ease, took the opportunity of saving Dean by declining the beverage and offering it to Winry instead, which she gratefully accepted. Dean mumbled a "sorry" to Al before nodding at Winry's direction as a way of greeting, knowing who she was based on previous statements by Al through Sam.
"Alright, what's up? You said it was urgent," Dean initiated the subject while pulling out various small to-go boxes of food from the many bags on the table. There were sandwiches, strips of chicken and beef, steamed vegetables, small containers filled with some kind of sauce, rolls, rice, noodles, mashed potatoes and so on.
"Have you read the papers recently?" Ed accepted one of the plates Dean was passing out and began spooning bits of everything onto it. His movements seemed wooden, as though he were on autopilot and his heart wasn't really into eating. Considering that he'd just lost a good friend it made sense that he would seem almost robotic in his movements at the moment, but Sam couldn't help but find it strange seeing him like this.
"No we haven't had a chance, we've been in the library all day," Dean explained, grabbing a small packet containing a fork and knife and immediately digging into the pile on his plate.
"How's that coming?" Al asked, fixing a plate for Winry and passing it to her. Sam guessed this was more out wanting something to do with the food rather than mere politeness. He couldn't imagine how awkward it must be to not have the physical attributes needed for sustenance and to have to be surrounded by all this food.
"It's slow-go," Sam explained, taking a strip of beef and dipping it into one of the sauce containers before sticking it into his mouth. It tasted pretty good. The boys had never explained the whole Enochian thing to the Elrics, they'd simply offered the excuse of needing more study in alchemy, which was half of the truth.
"It takes a while to fully understand it all so don't rush it," Ed surprised Sam once again by offering that bit of advice. He nodded in understanding, glad that he was too busy chewing to answer verbally. This side of Ed was somewhat unsettling for him, having grown used to his more sarcastic and child-like tendencies. The whole issue with Hughes' death must've hit him harder than they'd formerly realized.
"Here," Al reached out to hand Sam a folded newspaper, "you should read this."
Sam took the paper from him, setting his plate down on the table, unfolding it to read the front page news consisting of a picture of a young woman with short hair and a mole just under her left eye. The article identified her as 2nd Lt. Maria Ross….the prime suspect in the death of Brigadier-General Maes Hughes.
"She didn't do it though did she?" Sam glanced over at Ed, gears turning in his brain, "Is that why you called us over here? You think she's innocent?"
"I don't think," Ed replied firmly, eyes focused on the paper in Sam's hands. "I don't believe it was the 2nd Lieutenant, it just can't be. Something's not right here."
"The military is certain she's to blame," Al explained, his armor creaking ever so slightly with his movements as he spoke. "They wouldn't convict someone of a murder unless they had substantial evidence showing there was a possibility the person convicted was responsible." He lowered his head in sadness, "Still it's….."
"It's a cruel joke is what it is," Ed finished for him, using a metal fist to prop up his chin. "There's no way she could've done it, it's just not possible."
"Well I don't think that's good enough to clear her name Fullmetal," Dean pointed out.
"There's no point to clearing it now….she's dead," Ed replied calmly.
Sam and Dean exchanged bemused looks before staring at Ed. "How? When?" Sam asked.
"She broke out of prison tonight, the military was ordered to take her down, shoot-to-kill if necessary," Ed placed his face in his hands. "The Colonel was the one that got her."
By "Colonel" Sam understood he was referring to his superior, "Colonel Mustang you mean?"
"He torched her," was Ed's form of confirmation. "There was hardly enough left to identify the remains."
"Wait a second," Dean interjected. "Didn't you once say that this Hughes guy and the Colonel were good friends?"
Al nodded, "They were in the Ishvalan war together, they remained good friends for years."
"Was this the Colonel's way to get revenge? By killing the suspect?" Sam skimmed through the article once again, "There's evidence pointing that she's guilty but not enough to show for certain that she was responsible." It made sense that Mustang would want to be involved in apprehending the suspect responsible, but to go so far as to kill someone without a proper trial first? This was purely a case of revenge, there was nothing else to it.
"I don't know what to call it," Ed replied, straightening up and curling his hands into fists. "All I know is that bastard didn't have to go that far. She didn't deserve to die like that."
"He's the Flame Alchemist isn't he?" Dean queried, tossing his now empty plate into the trash. "That's how he did it right? I think I remember hearing something about those gloves of his."
"They're made with ignition cloth," Al explained. "There are Transmutation circles specifically designed for transmuting fire sewn on the back of each glove. When he snaps it makes a spark, then he uses alchemy to change the oxygen density in the air."
"I'm sure he was quite the asset in the Uprising," Dean replied sarcastically, folding his arms across his chest.
"Not now Dean," Sam told him. Now wasn't the time for jokes.
"Was this all you needed to talk to us about?" Dean was serious again when he asked Ed that question.
"Well…there is one other thing," Ed looked pointedly at Winry, who had remained quiet as she'd listened to their conversation. At Ed's meaningful look she quickly set her plate down and stood up.
"I need to be getting to bed, it's late." She slipped from the room, softly closing the door behind her. Ed waited a few moments, listening for the muffled click of her hotel room door shutting, before returning his attention back to the Winchesters.
"Al had another flashback of the Truth…..but this time it was different," Ed began, his expression neutral. "He said the memories were…..well they're not his," he glanced at his brother, "Tell them Al."
Al appeared suddenly sheepish, as though his next words could quite possibly get him into some kind of trouble. He placed a glove-hand on the back of his helmet in a nervous gesture, "Um…..well…"
"What is it Al?" Dean walked around the couch to occupy Winry's seat.
"Well…..it's actually something to do with you Dean," Al replied, turning to face the older hunter.
Dean's eyebrows lifted slightly in curiosity, "Really?"
"But first I have to ask you something."
Dean frowned at that, "Okay…shoot."
Al sighed, looking directly into the hunter's eyes.
"Dean….who is Castiel?"
**NS**
In the same darkened room as before, illuminated by the eerie glow of the single dangling lamp, Lust and Envy were once again at a rendezvous of sorts, accompanied by the many stacks of snarling chimeras. Envy was just returning from a trip to Central Command, disguised as a soldier with a large mustache. Lust was once again reclined against a stack of cages, arms folded and calmly awaiting news.
"I was able to locate a witness that saw the man that orchestrated the break-out," Envy explained upon approach, red lights like flickering ribbons dancing all around him as he shifted back to his natural form. He handed Lust a small folded piece of paper, "Here, this is a rough sketch of the guy."
Lust glanced down at the drawing with mild surprise upon recognizing the instigator, "Oh, he's still alive then?" She took the drawing from Envy to get a closer look, "Is there any direct connection to the Colonel?"
Envy raised his hands above his head in order to stretch, "Who knows? My money says he's the one behind it though."
Lust glanced suspiciously at him, "Where did he run off to?"
Envy became instantly uncomfortable, "Well he did leave pretty suddenly, and he's good at hiding."
"In other words you have no idea. You're useless," Lust replied in an accusing tone, not amused.
"Don't blame this on me you ugly hag," Envy replied defensively, "I'm short on man-power."
Lust quirked an eyebrow, "Man-power?"
At that precise moment, one particularly caged being chose the opportunity to begin rattling its cage. Lust turned to survey the snarling figure with calculating interest, "But you've got plenty of man-power here."
Unlike its fellow caged neighbors, this prisoner appeared to be human, though seemingly lacking the ability of human speech. He grunted and growled, long-nailed fingers slapping and grasping at the cage bars. Only half of his face was visible, the other half was covered in a mask designed to look like the top-half of a skull but smoother, his hair long and blonde in complete disarray. His clothes were ragged and torn, and there was evidence of a previous struggle in the cuts and bruises all over his body and bare feet. Patches of rotted skin gave a spotted look to his complexion, sure signs of wear and tear to his form. Another contrast between himself and his caged companions was his eyes, they didn't glow red like the chimeras, but a faint white due to the light of the room.
Upon seeing his liveliness, Lust's slithery grin returned.
"It looks like you're finally on….Barry the Chopper."