A/N: Dun dun duuuun…..Carry on :3
Sam wondered briefly if it was possible to hear your skull crack under excessive pressure, if so he was sure he should be hearing it right now, what with the iron-grip of this monster and the force with which it held Sam's face in its massive hands. The stench of its breath was making him gag as he grasped at the monster's hands, pain shooting up his arm every time he moved it. He was almost positive he'd actually heard the bone snap.
The stench became even more unbearable when the creature brought its face closer to his own. Sam attempted a kick at its midsection, but his foot connected with a few-hundred-pounds of…..well sturdiness was the best way to describe it. The thing may be huge, but it certainly wasn't flopping its weight around. Sam could feel the wet atmosphere from inside its mouth, wafting towards his face, when a burst of heat and light erupted all around them and the monster shrieked in surprise. It dropped Sam to the floor, shuffling around on its feet, Sam feeling small tremors in the floor from the force of its weight moving about.
Fire. That had been fire just now.
"Duck Sam!" someone commanded him. It sounded like a man.
And he did duck, just as another burst of flame filled the hallway and Sam caught his first decent glimpse of the creature in the light. He looked human, a very large human, but Sam knew better. What with that Ouroborus tattoo and the fact that the fire didn't appear to have even singed him permanently, not to mention the red flickering lights as his body immediately began to regenerate itself.
Sam was looking at a Homunculus, truly seeing one, for the first time.
"I said get down!" the voice roared, closer this time, as another burst of flame shot out. It blew all around the monster, burning him on all sides, a spherical ball of fire that rotated on an axis as it scorched the monster. He roared his discomfort, arms flailing about as the fire shook him. It went out but was quickly followed by another blaze, Sam using the opportunity of light to quickly glance upon his rescuer. Colonel Mustang stood, open shirt revealing obvious signs of injury, glove-less with a lighter in his right hand. On the back of it was his Transmutation circle, seemingly carved in his own skin. From the looks of it, he was using the flint of the lighter for ignition, and the circle on his hand provided his ability to perform alchemy.
Smart man.
The Homunculus roared again in displeasure, red lights flickering here and there as he healed himself, parts of his skin sizzling from the scorch. There was a small cloud of smoke around him that was quickly disappearing, but he didn't give Mustang a chance to correct the matter by torching him even more. He immediately turned on his heel and ran away just as the Colonel was on the verge of lighting the flint again. Sam waited a brief second, just to be sure the thing was truly gone, before struggling to get to his feet, using his right elbow for extra support rather than his right hand. Pain shot up his arm once again, he sincerely hoped he didn't damage himself any further.
"Thank y-" but Sam didn't get a chance to finish before he rushed to catch the Colonel as he was falling. Sam took hold of Mustang's left hand and worked to drape it over his shoulders. He attempted to support the man's back by bracing his right arm against it, making sure not to apply too much pressure on the part that was supposedly broken. He'd picked Mustang's left side in order to keep his right hand free for anymore necessary flame-work, though Sam doubted the monster would be back it didn't hurt to be on the safe side.
"Where's the Lieutenant?" Mustang croaked, gritting his teeth in pain with each wobbly step they took.
"We had to split from them, there was another hallway," Sam grunted with the effort of carrying the Colonel. Thankfully Roy was attempting to support himself as much as possible. "What happened to you?"
"Homunculus," Roy explained, wincing when Sam's hip touched his side as they walked. "She got me in the side. I used my alchemy to close the wound." He paused before adding, "Havoc wasn't so lucky. He needs help."
"Sorry for this then," Sam offered, a tiny bit of guilt washing over him as he realized the injured side in question was in fact the one that was touching Sam's hip. The contact was hurting the Colonel, but there was no other way to support him. "My right arm's broken or I'd have been standing on your right side. And we need your right hand free just in case."
"S'okay," Mustang reasoned, "just take me to the Lieutenant. Please."
"I think they're this way," Sam nodded down one hallway, "though I can't be sure. It's like a maze down here."
"It'll have to do for now," Mustang's voice was growing softer, leaving Sam to guess that he didn't have much strength left in him. They had to hurry before the Colonel passed out, leaving Sam to carry him. But there was a different kind of worry that was steadily gaining formidable strength in his mind.
What had happened to that woman he'd spoken to? She'd seemingly disappeared once the monster attacked Sam.
But more importantly, where was Dean?
**NS**
It was only a matter of minutes before they could hear the gunshots, cries of despair, and the fatal clicking sound of a gun that was out of ammunition. Sam struggled to speed up their pace, forcing the colonel to bump against him even more. Up ahead was a large opening into one of the rooms, bright white light was pouring out into the hallway. Sam could see the shadow of someone in the doorway, female from the looks of it, and thin flickering red reflections on the floor. Red lights.
Homunculus.
"Hurry" Mustang whispered urgently, and Sam tried. But he'd been dragging the Colonel through one hallway after another in an attempt to find the Lieutenant and Alphonse. He was positive that it was the Lieutenant's cries of despair he'd just heard, but whether or not Al was among them could not be said for certain.
And whether or not Dean was among them was the most troubling question of all.
"Are you done?" The supposed woman was seemingly the one to ask that question, considering it was the closest sound to them, just beyond the doorway. And it sounded familiar.
Sam tried to be quiet in moving the two of them forward, but the task was rather difficult. Roy was unsteady on his feet, causing Sam to be unsteady as well as he tried to support him. He strained his ears in an effort to listen in on what was happening inside that room, suspicious of the possibility that the sounds they were making would arouse someone's attention. If it was the wrong kind of attention then they were screwed.
"Such a sad and weak creature. Another typical human," the familiar voice came again, and Sam finally realized why it registered with him so much. It was the same voice he'd heard earlier, the woman that had chatted him up just before the other homunculus had attacked. He tried to focus on what she was saying, vaguely aware of the sounds of crying from inside the room as well.
There was a short series of clanking sounds followed by another familiar voice. "Stand up Lieutenant," Alphonse commanded, softly but firmly. "You need to get out of here."
"Do you want me to kill you first?" the female voice spoke again, Sam envisioning a snake as it hissed upon an enemy's advance.
There was the sound of hands clapping together, and the unmistakable soft whine of a transmutation. Al must be transmuting some kind of weapon, and given the fact that his memories were now back, it meant that he didn't need a circle. At least they had some advantage, if anything else.
"Oh my," the female voice came again, "it appears you've opened the Portal."
The Portal?
"Not yet," Roy whispered next to Sam who had brought them just to the edge of the doorframe. Mustang braced himself against the wall, drawing in quiet breaths as he mustered what little strength he had left. Sam took the opportunity to peak around the corner in order to catch a glimpse of what was going on.
The room was large and white, with massive pipes that ran from floor to ceiling, even across the ceiling itself. The floor was made of large stone tiles, also white, and was littered with bits of debris just inside the doorway. Beyond them was a set of large double doors, with a strange design on the front that involved a series of colors and shapes as well as some language, Latin perhaps. From the looks of the design, Sam could only guess that it was alchemically based, a piece of the knowledge of alchemy carved in two massive stone doors. He didn't focus on them for too long, concerned as he was about his brother. But Dean was there, kneeling beside the Lieutenant who was on her knees, hands bracing the floor. The crying Sam had heard was obviously her doing, for she shook with wracking sobs.
Alphonse stood in front of them, his newly transmuted spear in hand, but he was given no chance to use it. The homunculus within the doorway, a dark-haired woman in a black dress, extended her fingers into five long spear-like appendages and sliced through the air at Al. The move shredded the tip of Al's weapon. He dropped it and backed up a step just as the homunculus struck again, this time her spear-like fingers buried themselves into Al's helmet and parts of his upper-torso area.
Sam glanced at Roy, "Homunculus. Creepy fingers. Female."
"That's the one that got me and Havoc," Mustang whispered, glancing at the doorway. He turned to face Sam with a serious look, "I'll walk in first. Keep a distance of about a foot behind me in case I need your support again."
"Such a shame," they heard the homunculus reply to Al, "you are a perfect candidate." Sam could hear the sound of something sharp piercing metal, and could only guess that she'd struck Al again.
The Colonel straightened, placing a hand against the wall, the same hand that still held the lighter. He began to move towards the doorway, Sam remaining close behind.
"Listen Alphonse," Hawkeye's voice sounded broken and full of anguish. Though Sam had only just met her, she didn't seem the type to break down like this. "Leave me and save yourself."
Alphonse's voice sounded off with a firm "No!"
"Run!" Hawkeye's voice was cracking as she continued to sob.
"I won't!" Al responded with vehemence.
"Go!" Hawkeye yelled, sounding a bit more commanding this time.
"I won't leave you!" Al roared back passionately, just as Roy and Sam were entering the room and they could see the scene clearly. "I'm sick of watching people die! And I can't just sick back and take it anymore! I won't let anyone else get killed! Not while I can protect them!" He finished his speech just as the homunculus tore her appendages free of his armor, tearing off chunks of his helmet and arms. But he still remained as he was, the armored wall between the homunculus and his two friends. He refused to move.
But now it was Roy's turn.
"Well spoken. I couldn't agree more!"
There was a collective gasp around the room as they all turned to face the two of them, and Sam barely had a chance to yell out "Get down!" before Alphonse clapped his hands together to create a wall between his group and the homunculus and Mustang flicked the lighter.
There was a burst of flames that spread nearly from floor to ceiling, an explosion of heat larger than any Sam had ever witnessed. It swarmed around them in a suffocating mass, a storm of flames and smoke billowing around the room, the edges of it slithering across the surface of the wall Al had transmuted as a means of protection. Sam had to his squint his eyes against the heat, keeping just behind the Colonel as per request.
"Looks like I can get you on your knees after all!" Mustang all but snarled at the Homunculus as the flames died down, for she was indeed on her knees. The blast had knocked her down, scorching her skin to black, long tendrils of smoke spiraling upward from her wounds, red lights showing that she was attempting to regenerate herself. Roy flicked the lighter again and another burst of flames erupted all around her.
"You should've bled to death by now!" she shrieked at him accusingly, the flames whipping around her long raven hair.
"I seared the wound closed," Roy explained in a menacing tone, his left hand pressed against his injured side. "I came close to passing out from the pain." He flicked the lighter again.
She cried out in pain, not even attempting to defend herself against the assault, the flames raging on.
"You told me I couldn't kill you," Roy said in response to her screams. "But I'd like to try and prove you wrong!" He flicked the lighter again, this time the force of the flames knocked her back on her feet. "So let's see! How many times is it going to take!"
She wobbled around on her feet, landing face-first against Al's stone wall, just as another burst of flames scorched her. Sam came close to chastising him for bringing the fire that close to the trio behind the wall, but he had to trust that Mustang knew what he was doing. From behind the wall he could hear Hawkeye's frantic "Colonel! NO!" over the roar of the flames. The Colonel continued his assault on the homunculus, sending wave after wave of fire, burning her endlessly. He held no remorse for her screaming, focused intently on destroying her. She continued to screech in pain, but for the few seconds after the flames of the most recent blast began to die down, she took the opportunity to launch an attack. Racing forward with a scream of rage she extended her fingers into long spear-like appendages, one aiming directly for Roy's forehead. He wasn't thwarted by her attack, he calmly flicked the lighter again, creating a rotating sphere of flames that swarm all around her. The flames lasted for a few seconds before immediately snuffing out, leaving behind several columns of smoke that rose towards the ceiling. The homunculus remained in a crouched position, one spear-finger almost touching Roy's face, the stirred air ruffling her dark hair.
Sam could see her clearly now, even though most of her body was now scorched to blackness and parts of her skin revealed the muscle tissue beneath. She had pale skin and purple eyes, a long strapless black dress and long dark boots. She had the unmistakable Ouroborus tattoo on her chest, but that was about all he was able to discern before her body began to break down and turn to dust.
"You killed me," her voice was soft, "I hate losing. But there are worse ways to die than at the hands of a man like you." She seemed rather content with her fate as her body deconstructed itself, she noted the look on Roy's face, "I love how cold and focused your eyes are." She leaned her head back, lowering her limbs, as though accepting defeat. "I look forward to the day that those eyes will be wide with agony." Her body was now completely dust, the tiny pieces floating away into nothing as she disappeared. Only her voice remained behind, but that too was quickly fading away as it spoke, "It's coming…..it's coming….." A red stone fell softly to the floor where she once stood, it too turned to dust and floated away into nothing. She was gone.
Sam and Roy continued to watch her fatal departure, the Colonel swaying lightly on his feet before his legs finally gave out and Sam immediately made a grab for him. Given the fact that he had no true way of catching him they way he needed to, he was left with only the option of slowing the man's fall and lowering him gently to the floor. Sam supported the Colonel's shoulders with his left arm, one of his knees also a means of support against Mustang's back. There came a scurrying noise as the trio emerged from behind the wall, racing toward them.
"Colonel!" Hawkeye fell to her knees at her superior's side, Dean and Al were on her heels, Al falling to his knees as well but Dean remained standing. His attention was focused on his brother.
Sam gave him a knowing look and nodded as if to silently say I'm okay. Dean returned the nod, but the exchange did nothing to erase the worried expression he had.
Mustang gave a half-smile of reassurance as he looked at his Lieutenant, "Are you all right?"
"Forget about me we need to get you some help!" The Lieutenant sounded almost frantic as she spoke.
Mustang didn't respond to the suggestion, but rather turned to face Al with a look of gratitude. "Thanks Alphonse. Thank you for looking after my subordinate."
"Yeah sure," Al replied in modest, but he was quickly serious. "We need to call you a doctor!"
"Oh yeah," Mustang's voice was growing softer. He really needed to rest. "Hurry. Call a doctor for Havoc…and Sam…please."
"What about Sam? What's wrong?" Dean came to his knees at his brother's side but Sam quickly shook his head.
"I'm fine Dean, just a broken arm," he gingerly raised his right hand, closed in a fist, as though to emphasize the injury.
Mustang glanced over at Dean to explain, "Sam here was in need of my assistance. I believe there was a second homunculus, the same one I torched off of the tower earlier today." He turned to face Sam, a touch of pride in his expression, "Thank you for your help Sam."
"No man," Sam shook his head again, "you're the one that saved my ass. Fat-Boy almost had me for dinner."
Mustang chuckled in response, but the sound immediately turned into a series of tiny coughs.
"We should really get you out of here, and find Havoc," Dean urged them all, getting to his feet. He helped Sam pull Mustang to his feet as well, Sam being sure to use only his left arm. The group began making there way towards the door, Al and the Lieutenant acting as guards minus their weapons.
They were just reaching the doorway when Sam once again spotted the debris on the floor. A closer look revealed they were bits of metal and cloth, and what looked like the remains of a helmet. "What happened here?" he asked, nodding towards the mess.
"Well," Dean explained, his voice slightly grim. "That used to be the armored Barry the Chopper."
**NS**
The trip out of the Third Lab took longer than they'd originally anticipated. What with Al trying desperately to help Dean carry Havoc regardless that his armor was damaged, Sam was doing his best (despite his broken arm) to help support Mustang as he shuffled along, wincing all the way. The younger Winchester tried in vain to half-carry, half-drag the Colonel, using his left arm as much as humanly possible, but he could feel a muscle-cramp in the making. Roy was trying his best to support his own weight, but he was exhausted and weak, the fight with that Homunculus had drained him of most of his energy. At this point he was running on fumes, panting heavily and grunting each time his body twisted at an angle, tugging at the seared wound on his left side.
How he'd managed to sear the wound, come to Sam's rescue, and fight off a Homunculus was a complete mystery. The man had guts that was for certain, and Sam couldn't help but respect the man, though he barely knew him. From what Al had told him, Ed and the Colonel didn't exactly see eye-to-eye, and often fought with each other because of that. Ed made the Colonel out to be some arrogant and morally bankrupt man with a political agenda who was hoping to get to the top of the ranks sooner or later. As far as Sam was concerned, the Colonel was simply doing his job as any man of rank would, making sure to keep things in check and so forth. Since Ed had such an issue with authority, particularly the authority of an older military official, it was to be expected that he would find it difficult to get along with them. He was still just a kid after all, a child-soldier amongst experienced war-heroes and leaders. With Ed's child-like tendencies, it was a wonder the Colonel could handle him, given the fact that Ed was prone to spastic outbursts on a regular basis.
Al on the other hand appeared to be a different story. He showed tremendous respect for his superiors based on what Sam could make of it. In fact that sort of attitude seemed to apply to anyone on the face of this (alternate) planet for that matter, which included the alien hunters as well. Al had shown nothing but respect to Sam and the others from the moment they met, not once had he displayed any level of animosity or distrust. In some ways this bit of his character made Al the oldest of the two, the one willingly accepting of other people despite their rank or background. Al himself was childlike in his own way, but it was that innocence that comes with childhood, something he hadn't quite grown out of despite what he'd been through. The kid had every right to be angry at the world, and in some ways so did Ed, they'd been dealt a harsh life. Yet Al was the one deserving the privilege of anger towards the cards they'd been dealt more-so than Ed, after all Al was the one stuck in a suit of armor. And yet he seemed to be at peace with his, but only to a certain degree. He still wanted his original body back after all.
It was an amazing thing. Ed was in so many ways a lot like Dean, and Al was more or less the same as Sam. Not simply because of the soul issue. It was more than that.
In fact, it was like they'd been placed here to find these two, their metaphorical alternate-universe doppelgangers.
"That's it right?"
Sam looked over to glance at Dean, nodding towards a set of iron double doors, light pouring in through the holes in the metal and spilling out into the darkened hallway. Yep, this was the way they'd come in alright, it was the first bit of light they'd seen in a while since leaving the White Room. Hawkeye moved first, Sam having allowed her to use his extra Glock, hers having run out of ammunition after shooting the Homunculus. Dean on the other hand preferred to keep his extra weapon at close hand just in case he needed it. That and he simply didn't want Hawkeye to have it.
She made quick work of surveying their surroundings, gun trained in the same direction as her watchful eyes, hawk's eyes. She was no longer crying, far from it, she'd left her tears behind at the place she'd been on her knees. Hawkeye was back in trained marksman mode, armed and ready for whatever attack came next. After all she now had her superior back, and her number one priority was his safety, meaning Sam's safety at the time was also her priority since he was helping to carry the Colonel along. She used her back to push open one of the doors, gun at the ready, pointed towards the ceiling. Sam and Mustang shuffled through it first, turning sideways, Sam's left arm under the Colonel's as he supported the man's back. Al and Dean had it a little more difficult, considering that Havoc was unconscious, had been from the moment they'd found him in that room. The two of them were each carrying one end of him, Dean had Havoc's upper torso area while Al tried to carry Havoc's legs with his good arm. When he'd previously tried to help lift the 2nd Lieutenant using both of his arms, the right one had fallen off.
That Homunculus had struck Al twice, tearing off bits of his arms and helmet piece, basically his "face". Consequently his armor was now on the verge of falling apart in some areas, both strikes having caused some internal damage as well as external. Sam could only deduce that both blows had severed some of the joints involved with his right arm, and if he tried to do too much with it, it would fall off for good. Or at least until Ed could fix it,. According to Al his brother was the only one who knew how to transmute around the seal inside his armor without harming it in any way. Sam felt better with this knowledge at hand, he would've been too worried about having to fix Al in the first place what with his mediocre skills. He sure as hell wasn't going to attempt it if doing so meant he was risking Al's soul.
Sam glanced back at the three of them, Hawkeye having moved ahead of the group the moment the trio had cleared the doorway. Dean wasn't doing too bad, seemingly, despite the blood on his face. Sam would have to ask him later about what had happened to him, and he himself would have some explaining to do. In fact they all needed to have some kind of discussion, particularly about what had happened in the White Room. For starters, there was the incident with the Homunculus with the freaky fingers.
"You told me I couldn't kill you. But I'd like to try and prove you wrong!"
So the Homunculi were not as invincible as they made out to be after all. Mustang had torched that Homunculus until she'd turned to dust, not only that but it had required several blasts of his flames before she eventually died. There was also the incident with Blubber Boy Homunculus, the flames had worked on him too, but he'd sprinted away before Mustang could finish the job. The Colonel had been too preoccupied with finding his subordinate to focus on the big guy, not to mention neither of them had been in any condition to chase him down. At least for now they knew, should they ever cross paths with the big guy again, Mustang would be a good weapon to have at hand. Sam partly wished he had a pair of the Colonel's gloves as well as a fraction of knowledge in regards to Flame Alchemy. They'd torched several corpses in the past, not to mention they'd used fire against various monsters, so pyromania was almost second nature to them. He wondered how difficult it would be to learn about it.
"We need an emergency medical transport vehicle and two stretchers!" Hawkeye was barking out orders to the lab-coated officials scurrying about to make room for the injured group making their way down the hall. Soldiers were on the move, a few off to handle phone calls to the hospital, some overseeing the task of locating gurneys for both Mustang and Havoc. When they'd found the 2nd Lieutenant back in that room, based on Sam's survey of the scene and Mustang's weakened recap, it was easy to discern that Havoc was quite possibly paralyzed. A wound like that, so close to the spinal-cord, could only result in paralysis, or simply loss of some muscle use from the waist down. Sam had not wanted to voice his concerns at the time, nor did he wish to do so now, there was too much strain on everyone at the moment and adding to it wouldn't help. They needed medical attention and fast. Sam's arm may not be usable at the moment, but it certainly was of no mind to allow him to forget he was injured, pain flaring up every time he jostled it in the slightest way.
The employees and soldiers at the Third Lab made quick work of assembling two medical transport vehicles, as well as providing some medical assistance while the group waited for their convoy to arrive. These may be researchers but they were also, to a degree, doctors. They could provide some medical help, as much as they were capable of at the very least, despite not having the exact tools required for such injuries. The moment the cars arrived Sam, Dean and Hawkeye worked together to help the medical transport team load both the Colonel and the 2nd Lieutenant safely into each car. Hawkeye obviously wanted to ride with the Colonel, and there was no room for either Sam, Dean or Al to ride with Havoc. But Sam still needed to get to the hospital himself, and luckily they had their car parked nearby.
This was going to be, yet another, long night on their list of longest nights.
**NS**
"What's wrong with you?" Envy screeched with fury, gesticulating in Wrath's direction. "How could you let that bastard go after what he did? You should've yanked his spine out of his mouth!"
The object of his anger stood at the bottom of a set of stone steps that eventually turned downward to another set of steps, located in the same darkened room with dim lighting that once became the execution grounds for Greed. As always there were pipes running along the walls, floor and ceiling, with massively-sized gears hanging here and there. Envy stood a few steps above Wrath, with Gluttony slumped a few steps up from him. The fatter Homunculus was crying softly to himself, murmuring the name "Lust", having just lost the closest being he'd ever had to a true family. "He killed Lust!" he wept to himself.
"It's not too late to kill him!" Envy went on, ignoring Gluttony's despair for the time being. "So let's get to it!" He was furious at the loss of one of their own, though his anger stemmed more from the fact that a human had bested a Homunculus, an allegedly invincible being. Envy's passionate anger was not a symptom of grieving by any means.
"We can use Mustang," Wrath had his hands clasped behind his back, a look of silent fury on his angular face. "He's worthless if we kill him however."
"Use him?" Envy instantly sobered from his rage. "Hold on, you mean the Portal?"
Wrath chuckled, "You don't need to worry about him. And forget Mustang. Father wants me to handle him."
Envy snorted, "That's well and good, but what about those two hunters? Gluttony didn't stand a chance of stopping either of them before Mustang tried to kill him!"
Wrath seemed to think for a moment, "Those two are becoming even more trouble than they're worth."
"So what are you thinking?" Envy folded his slender arms and frowned. "We went after the old man but it appears we've only pushed them further into snooping around."
"We?" Wrath chuckled again, turning his head slightly to the right so as to glare at Envy with his uncovered eye. "If I recall it was by your suggestion that we release Barry's body loose into Central in order to attack the old man. And it appears your little scheme has backfired. They're even more suspicious now."
"So what if things didn't go to plan?" Envy placed a hand on his chest, feigning innocence.
Wrath looked away from him, but his voice was proof that his glaring expression had not changed. "You think this is some sort of game, and these humans are the pawns, easily manipulated and cowed." He turned to face him just then, more serious than before, "But what you fail to realize is what these hunters are capable of. Giving Maria Ross to Mustang did no good, neither did your attempts to throw those two boys off course by having a condemned prisoner's body attack their friend. You can't quite seem to grasp the concept that revenge is all they are going to focus on from this point forward."
Gluttony gave a half-snarl mixed with a whimper at that, but said nothing.
"Given that fact," Wrath continued with his little speech, "it is safe to assume that no level of death in either of their families or group of friends is going to sway them from their chosen path of investigation and tireless quest for vengeance. And taking revenge against them will only disrupt Father's plans. Or has your juvenile delinquency failed to realize how much of a risk you took on Father's work with your little schemes in the first place?"
Envy snarled, "And what have you done besides act as their little friend? Paying them visits at the hospital and in Dublith does not count as 'handling it'."
"You would think so," Wrath replied mockingly, "but it is by my orders that those Winchesters were allowed passage into the Library. I've been keeping an eye on the two of them as I was told. I have been 'handling it'. In fact I'm arrogant enough to say that I've been 'handling it' better than you ever could were you in my place and I in yours."
Envy gaped at him, "You let them have access to all that research?"
"It was on Father's orders," Wrath explained, a touch of pride in his voice. "Please do not forget who it is you are serving Envy. It would not suit you to go against Father's plans."
"You accuse me of forgetting exactly what they are," Envy seethed. "And yet you're the one allowing them access to information they could use against us!"
"We need them to be prepared," Wrath pointed out calmly. "They are an important part of this story after all."
**NS**
In the days following the incident at the Third Lab, the hours seemed to blur together as Sam and Dean wafted from one location to another. It appeared that hospitals would soon outrank alleyways in terms of which locations they paid the most visits too. The Winchesters spent some quality time with a couple of doctors, though not in the way Dean had been hoping, his own turned out to be male and refused to put up with any nonsense. He'd demanded that Dean shut up and allow him to stitch the wound on his head, a result of his tussle with the fat Homunculus slamming him against the wall.
"It came at me again and I was too dizzy to fight it off," Dean explained finally when they'd been left to themselves. "Tried to punch him or something but he was gone. That's when I knew he must've gone after you."
They were in a double-bed room, with the same design as every other room they'd ever visited these past few months. Dean had specific orders to chill out and avoid moving around too much, they feared he might have a slight concussion from the blow, but Sam's greatest fear was whether or not the injury had affected the part of Dean's brain that dealt with his sense of humor.
"I haven't felt that dizzy since I drank fourteen shots of Tequila and this waitress got me to dance on her coffee table wearing a Hula skirt," he replied jokingly.
Sam huffed inwardly. Nope. He still wasn't funny.
"So then what?" He asked his brother, absent-mindedly rubbing a hand against his cast.
The nurses had chastised him for using the arm while broken to help carry Mustang in, arguing at him later that the bone had snapped clean in two. The cause of all the pain had been the fact that the bone had rolled and twisted around as he moved the arm, the angle of the break was at a degree where even the slightest jostle disturbed the injury. X-rays revealed in exact detail just how bad it was, and how Sam was lucky that there weren't any splinters to irritate his arm muscles and worsen the injury any further. It had taken a while but they'd managed to move the arm around enough, and sedate him enough, to get the bones back into place before fitting him with a cast.
It had been years since the last time he'd worn a cast. He had to keep brushing a hand against it in order to remind himself that it was actually there and not something his tired mind cooked up.
"I went looking for you," Dean continued explaining, "but there were too many damn hallways and eventually I ran into the Elric kid and that Hawkeye chick." Dean whistled, "She's a pistol isn't she? I'd hate to piss her off. Ever." Despite that he was obviously intimidated by the Lieutenant, there was a gleam in his eyes that Sam recognized. The kind that only appeared when he was attracted to a woman.
Sam scoffed. It would be just their luck if Dean did something stupid that put them on the Lieutenant's bad side.
"What happened with you?" Dean asked him, instantly serious. He nodded towards the cast, "You didn't get that from tripping over your big feet, I know that much."
Ignoring the subtle Sasquatch jab, Sam explained to him about the fat Homunculus attacking him, how the Colonel had saved his life, and how they both had worked together in order to locate the rest of the group. He went as far as to attempt replaying the dialogue he'd exchanged with the female Homunculus, and how she and her little immortal friends were seemingly familiar with them in more ways than they'd believed. But he didn't know how.
"They know what we are?" Dean asked him, forehead creased with incredulity. "How the hell do they know anything about us? It's not like there was some damn Supernatural Convention here or anything." He paused, "Aw crap. I bet there was a convention here. Becky seems to be intimidating enough to get her way across alternate dimensions anyhow."
"C. S. Lewis wouldn't touch that one," Sam replied jokingly, swinging his legs around on his bed to face his brother. "I don't know how they know. Maybe they were expecting us. Maybe….."
"Maybe….." Dean sat up. "They're the ones that set us up with all this money and the house."
"But why?" Sam pointed out. "Why go through all the trouble to give us resources if they keep trying to kill us?"
"I'm not saying it makes any sense," Dean interjected. "But I can't think of anything else Sam. We're stuck here with no knowledge as to what we're supposed to do or how we even got here. And these damn Homunculi assholes seem to know something about us. You're telling me that it's not possible they're the reason why were here at all?"
"I hope like hell they're not," Sam replied, sighing heavily. "How would they even accomplish that in the first place?"
"Didn't you hear what the girl-Homunculus said back in that white room?" Dean snapped his fingers as he tried to recall her name. "What did you say she was called…..Sally?"
"Solaris," Sam answered him, inwardly rolling his eyes at his brother's tendency to forget a new girl's name. "What about her?"
"She mentioned something about a Portal," Dean reminded him, "and that Al had obviously had access to it. She only said that because Al transmuted something without a circle."
"And the only way to do that is to have been exposed to the Truth," Sam finished for him.
"Bingo," Dean jabbed a finger in his direction, grinning. "This Portal thing and the Truth are one and the same. And if these Homunculi know something about it than obviously they know how it works."
"So you think they have access to it? Just like that?"
"I don't know," Dean admitted, shaking his head. "But one thing's for sure, I want to know more about it."
Sam was silent for a moment, glancing at the tray of food on the table between their beds. "You think that's our way back? Home I mean."
"Maybe," Dean shrugged. "It's worth looking into."
"Yeah," Sam nodded, not looking at him as he did so. "Maybe."
At that moment, a familiar set of alchemists opened the door, the shorter one stepping a few feet inside so that his brother could enter the room just inside the doorway. Al was whole again, which was a promising sight considering all that had occurred recently. Though Sam was glad Al was back in one piece again, it did nothing to lift his sour mood for he was incapable of healing that fast. A broken arm was no picnic when you had a job like his.
"You two planning on moving in to this hospital?" Ed folded his arms, a smug grin on his newly tanned face. "With as much time as you spend here you'd think you didn't actually have a pink house to go home to."
"Don't forget Elric, you're right up there with us," Dean pointed out with a grin of his own. "Exactly how many times have you been in here lately?"
"So-so," Ed waved at him, for once he seemed almost….content. He didn't even appear the slightest bit irritated at Dean's remark.
"What you two doing here anyway?" Sam interjected, just in case the conversation did escalate in that direction after all. "Paying a visit to the Colonel?"
"Well that's on our list for sure," Al replied, hands folded in front of him. "I wanted to pay my respects to him, he saved my life." He turned to glance at Sam, "And I suppose I owe you thanks as well Sam, you did help him."
Sam gave a half-smile and waved him off with his good arm, "No problem Al, you would've done the same for me."
Ed's grin started to fade, "We also wanted to talk with the two of you about something important."
"Us?" Dean scoffed, chuckling. "Al I get, but you? I thought you hated us."
"Not so much now," Ed replied casually, "you're not entirely useless."
Sam almost laughed, and Dean merely arched both eyebrows with a sarcastic "Good to know."
The corner of Ed's mouth lifted the tiniest bit upon that reaction, "So you got a minute?"
Actually they had several, which eventually turned into a full hour, leading up to the Elric's eventual seating arrangements on either bed alongside the Winchesters. Ed explained all that he'd found out recently on his journey to the ruins of Xerxes. There was also the things he found out while visiting Risembool, but the more astonishing part was the fact that their father had been there. However there were more important things to discuss, so neither of the Winchesters pried any further on the subject of absent-fathers suddenly turning up. They'd been down that road before so they knew what it was like.
"So you think your body is connected with Al's?" Sam inquired bemusedly, wondering if they needed to renegotiate the exact location of the line between their kind of crazy and what was beyond their comprehension of the weird.
Edward nodded, "His body must still be inside the Portal. I'm thinking that maybe the connection between the two of us is a result of our spirits mixing during the deconstruction after we did the transmutation on mom. Somehow our bodies became connected, so that leads me to believe that Al's body is still alive and waiting. If I can pull his soul out, I should be able to get the rest of him too."
"About this Portal thing," Dean asked, more serious with Ed than he'd ever been. "I'm guessing it's not just some information-center anymore. You can literally pass through it right?"
"What are you getting at?" Al leaned forward where he sat next to Dean.
"Well I mean it's obvious isn't it?" Dean splayed both hands as a form of gesturing. "It's a Portal, something used to travel, sometimes between worlds. Sam and I are from a universe that's different from this one. So there's a chance we passed through it to get here."
Ed quirked an eyebrow at that, "How?"
"We don't know," Sam explained. "But there's a chance the Homunculi might."
"I'm starting to think the same thing," Ed replied, his grin returning.
"You two should come with us when we see the Colonel," Al suggested, glancing between the Winchesters.
"Do we have to bring him flowers?" Dean asked, cocking an eyebrow.
"Not unless he's allergic to them," Ed replied sarcastically.
**NS**
"I counted the number of steps it took to get to the basement under the Third Laboratory," Hawkeye explained. "And I was able to calculate the approximate location of that doorway. It's not exact since the hallway curved, but I managed to deduce a radius with the Lab at the center". She pointed at the map on Mustang's lap, showing a layout of the city, with a large circle drawn around a particular section.
Mustang and Havoc, like Sam and Dean, had their own double-bed room. Both men were clad in hospital clothes, each with their own IV stand next their beds, but only Havoc seemed to in full use of his. Havoc was lying casually on his bed, lit cigarette in his mouth, staring blankly out the window. Mustang had his legs swung over the side of his own bed, map in hand, examining the location Hawkeye had pointed out. She was in full uniform now, and as stoic and professional as could be possible for a soldier.
"That's Central Command," Ed pointed out, noticing what else was located at the center of the circle. "But this is even more alarming."
"It's the presidential estate," Al added in. "Right above where we found the Homunculi."
"Presidential estate?" Sam frowned, arms folded across his chest as he leaned against a wall. "You mean the Fuhrer's house?" to which Al nodded in response.
"Which means there's a very real possibility the Fuhrer is connected to them," Mustang replied, scanning the map as he spoke.
"But that doesn't make sense," Al interjected. "Why did he kill Greed and his group if he's connected to them?"
"It's strange he killed them anyway," Ed pointed out, placing a half-closed hand against his chin in a thoughtful pose. "Why would he slaughter them before interrogating them?"
"Maybe he was trying to shut them up," Sam suggested in a neutral tone. "If he's involved in what's going on he wouldn't want a rogue Homunculus causing problems after all."
"It's strange all right," Mustang replied, forehead creased in concentration. "Damn inscrutable. One thing's for sure, the enemy's infiltrated high up the command. So extreme caution is necessary at all times. And Fullmetal," he glanced at Edward with a warning look, "watch yourself."
Edward appeared taken aback by the order, though it was more or less crucial advice on the Colonel's part. Sam supposed Ed had expected the Colonel to make some remark about Ed's lack of sensibility in dealing with certain fiascos. Though Ed didn't retort, he certainly looked as though he could've.
"What do you want us to do?" Dean queried the Colonel, glancing at him from where he sat at the end of Mustang's bed. He'd been examining the map as well, helping to note significant locations that were involved in this mysterious scheme.
"I may need the both of you from time-to-time," Mustang replied casually, but with a underlying firmness suggesting that there would be no arguments. "It wouldn't hurt to have two sets of extra hands at the ready. However don't misunderstand me," he glanced at the two of them with a scrutinizing expression, "this is merely a method I plan to use in order to keep the two of you close by. I'll be watching you."
"We're back at that again huh?" Dean scoffed, "Only this time it's not the half-pint that's analyzing every move we make."
"Shut up!" Edward spazzed at him, glaring.
"We'll need Sam and Dean with us for now Colonel," Al pointed out, careful to address Mustang in a respectful manner. "They've been helping us with investigating this case, they're really a big help."
Mustang seemed to think for a moment before agreeing. "Very well. But please be aware that as long as they are with you, you are held responsible should they step out of line."
"No disrespect Colonel," Dean pointed out, arching one eyebrow at Mustang. "But I'm older than you are. I think I can take care of myself."
The Colonel glanced at the bandage on Dean's head and grinned, "If you say so."
Dean arched his other eyebrow and looked pointedly at Mustang's injured side, "I do say so." The Colonel took notice of where the man indicated and frowned, obviously ill-amused at being the center of a injury joke. Though Sam had to agree, Dean did fine in rough situations, he may get knocked around a bit but he always managed.
Edward glanced at them both, "You two should get some sleep."
Sam merely frowned at him but Dean couldn't resist retorting, "Get some sleep? I've got a nurse Fullmetal, a hot one at that, I don't need you lecturing me too."
"I thought you said you could take care of yourself?" Ed replied with a smug grin. "What happens if I call you for help and you pass out from exhaustion?"
Dean didn't respond beyond the dirtiest expression he could make, sending a fully-daggered look in the older Elric's direction, who merely shrugged as he continued to grin.
"You'll need your rest too Colonel," Al reminded his superior in a casual manner, but Sam could tell it more or less stemmed from concern.
"I'll be fine here, I have the Lieutenant," Mustang pointed out.
"Yeah I'll bet you do," Dean muttered quietly to himself, receiving a glare from the Colonel.
"It's getting late," Sam commented, noting the decrease in light from outside. "We should probably get going."
They said their goodbyes to the Colonel and Havoc, Sam making a point to wish them a full recovery, though as a means of an olive branch. He didn't want the Colonel's suspicions of himself and Dean to be bombarded with any level of dislike simply because Mustang seemingly rubbed Dean the wrong way.
Just like he rubbed Ed the wrong way. It must be the issue of authority, neither of them were fans of it.
Ed and Al excused the Winchesters for a moment as they paid a final visit to Bobby for the day. Sam snatched the duffel-bag from under his bed, and the four of them slipped out of the hospital before any nurses or doctors could stop them. Dean wasn't released yet, nor was Sam, but they had no patience for it at the time. They had work to do.
They walked mostly in silence, deciding at some point that they would split at the hotel. A decision that brought a frown to Edward's face, "Back to the pink house then?"
Dean shrugged, but Sam Answered, "It's rigged the way we need it to be. The Colonel basically said this whole thing has escalated to a point where we can't trust just anyone anymore."
"There's an extra room if either of you want to bunk down there," Dean offered in nonchalance, but Ed was already waving him off.
"We can't leave Winry by herself at the hotel," he explained. "And if things are as bad as the Colonel says then it's not safe for her to go anywhere for now."
"Bring her to our house," Sam suggested, thinking back on all the work they'd done to it. "We've got guns and knives hidden all over. Plus there's some protective symbols from our world on every ceiling and a majority of the walls. She should be safe there."
Edward frowned, though it wasn't due to irritation, but rather a sign that he was thinking seriously on the offer. "I'll have to think about it. Your house isn't much safer than the hotel, but it can't be any worse." He glanced off into the distance as they walked, "Though to be honest I'd feel better if she was somewhere safe. This whole thing leads back to Central Command, and anyone in Central could be affected by it. As long as she's here, she's not safe. It doesn't matter where she stays."
"Well you know where to find us if you need anything," Sam reminded him, handing him a folded piece of paper. It was their house number, he'd had to sneak into one of the records rooms at the hospital in order to get it from their insurance file.
Edward took the paper, glanced at it and nodded. "Sure thing."
"Be careful," Al told the two of them as he waved them off, the four alchemists parting ways as the Elric's went into the hotel and the Winchester's continued on their way back to the Pink House.
"Oh sure Sam, invite a teenage girl to stay at our house for her own safety like the gentleman you are," Dean teased him.
"Upstairs-brain Dean," Sam reminded him, scoffing. "Our house would be a hell-of-a-lot safer than some public hotel that could be under surveillance."
"And that's why we're heading back to the Puke House?" Dean glanced at him sideways, fists jammed into his jacket pockets. The evening chill was beginning to settle on the city. "You think they might have us under watch at the hotel?"
"It's a public building isn't it?" Sam pointed out. "If this whole thing is military-oriented than any one of the buildings in this city could be under surveillance right now."
"I think I'm starting to appreciate that house a little more," Dean admitted in a disgusted tone. "Even if it does make me want to blow my brains out."
"It's not that bad," Sam said defensively.
"Pink Sam. It's fucking pink!" Dean snorted, shaking his head. "Let's at least change the wall color okay? We can put the Traps back on as soon as we're done."
Sam nodded, not wanting to argue any further, though he did agree that at least some of the pinkness needed to go. He'd like for ALL of it to be gone quite frankly, but he'd settle for losing the pink on the walls if that was the only card they were to be dealt at this time. Plus it's not like they couldn't use alchemy to do it, all they needed was to figure out the exact components needed to change the color…or they could just buy a different color and transmute it from the cans and onto the walls. That would be easier.
"Did you leave the door open when we left Lior?" Dean was pointing at the front entrance of the monstrosity known as the Pink House, where the front door stood slightly ajar.
Both boys exchanged glances before reaching into their jackets to pull our their semi-automatics, sneaking towards the back of the house. They kept their guns at the ready, surveying other possible signs of breaking and entering, though aside from the front door none could be found. They came around towards the front again, using their learned skills based on what dad had taught them from his time in the Marine Corps, angling their bodies in such a manner so as to avoid being a target at all costs. Dean went in first, keeping his gun trained ahead of him, pointing it in all directions as he examined the interior. Aside from their little episode with the Elric's once-upon-a-few-weeks-ago, there were no visible signs of damage from an unknown intruder. There were still holes in the floor from when Ed had attacked them, and the furniture was all over the place as it had been on that day. Nothing seemed out of place. Not one thing.
"But the door was jammed when we left," Sam pointed out, closing the door behind him. Dean was coming back from the hallway, having just examined each room.
"Nothing out of place," he told Sam, stuffing his gun back into his jacket. "All the knives and guns are still where they should be. Booze is still in the cabinet. Weird."
"Tell me about it," Sam allowed the duffel-bag to fall to the floor with a heavy thud before strolling to the kitchen. "I'm going to need a drink for this."
"Great minds do think alike after all," Dean replied in agreement, allowing Sam to begin preparing two glasses for whiskey when a voice from what was left of the living room startled them both.
"You two dillholes are borderline useless you know that?"
Both boys spun around at the same time to face the stranger, Sam nearly dropping the bottle of Jack Daniels as he did so. That voice…..it couldn't be…..
But it was. Residing on their newly righted-up couch, booted feet resting on the newly righted-up coffee table was a man. He was short, about five-foot-six or so, with long brown hair that reached past his ears. His eyes were green and twinkled with a mischievous glint that went well with the playful grin on his face. He wore blue-jeans, a button-up shirt that was striped, and a dark brown jacket. He was lounging on the couch with a glass of what appeared to be the same whiskey Sam had been on the verge of pouring for himself and Dean.
It had been over two years since the last time they saw him, and he hadn't changed one damn bit. Both boys gaped at him, eyes wide, and replied in perfect synchronization.
"Gabriel?"