Fullmetal Alchemist: Solitude

Chapter 9: Apex of the Climax

Why was she doing this? Kneeling here, weeping, in front of all her men, ruining her reputation as the Northern Wall of Briggs. So what that the love of her life lay dying in front of her – this was Briggs! She never cried, she never relented to pain, she always came out strong. But this… this… why? Why was she so weak? Why couldn't she be strong like she was supposed to be? As everyone expected her to be? She was just a miserable weakling, no better than anyone else.

"Sir! Can you hear me?"

Olivier threw her head back, and glared at the speaker with tear – glazed eyes. She could see a soldier kneeling down next to her, visibly confused by her display of emotion. Olivier coughed, clearing her throat. No matter what she looked like, she still had to sound as though she knew what she was doing.

"Yes soldier?" She snapped, less forceful than usual.

"I'm here to take him to the medical ward! Let me take him!" He responded, a pained look on his face. Olivier bit her lip, and glanced at Miles before again looking at her soldier.

"Go! And make sure he survives – that's an order!" The soldier nodded, and motioned to two other men taking cover nearby. They sprinted toward the fallen Major, and carefully picked him up. Olivier watched as they carried him away from her, and out of the battleground.

She whipped her head around to face the weakening faux-Drachman forces. Snap out of it Olivier! She mentally shouted. An idea was forming in her mind.

"Men!" She yelled into her radio. "To the artillery room NOW!" She didn't even wait for anyone's reply, instead sprinting as fast as she could out of the basement.

This would work. She knew it; besides, they had already tested the method once, with an unwilling test subject. Sloth was a homunculus, so this would certainly be successful on normal humans.

"Does this relate to the strategy used when fighting that monster?" Asked a soldier as she entered the artillery room. She noticed that he was the same soldier who had asked if she was pregnant.

"It does. What's your name soldier?"

"Avery, Sir. Sergeant Avery."

"You're very astute, I'll give you that," said Olivier, climbing onto a tank.

"Thank you, Sir," Avery responded, turning slightly pink. Olivier glared at him.

"Don't blush at a time like this! We're under attack you idiot!"

"Sorry Sir! I didn't mean to!"

"Of course you didn't," said Olivier as more men armed the other tanks. "And don't just stand there – you'll be firing from this tank Sergeant." Avery sprinted to the tank and quickly entered the inside.

"Is everyone ready?" Shouted Olivier, glancing around at her forces. Seven armed tanks stood at the ready behind her, with Briggs men yelling at every one. She turned forward and smiled to herself. She had to murder these Drachman traitors for what they had done, not only to their country, but also to Miles. She was going to make them pay.

"Let's go!" She yelled, gun held high.

The tanks stormed the lower level of the basement with amazing speed. The Briggs soldiers caught the Drachman rebels completely off – guard with their assault.

"FIRE!" Olivier shouted at the top of her lungs. She aimed her own weapon at the surprised adversary and fired mechanically fast, killing every target. The tanks fired next, and blood and screams ripped through the air. More and more rounds were fired by the tanks, tearing apart the enemy. Olivier was on an absolute rampage. These men attacked her fort, they threatened her friends and family, and they mortally wounded her lover. She would see to it that every one of these bastards would die.

Everyone was shouting, screaming, trying to be heard above the noise of the weapons. Olivier's eyes were scanning and analyzing everything at lightning speed. The Drachman forces were thinning at an impossible rate; soon, there was no one left.

Olivier leapt off of the tank.

"Sir! Where are you going?" Shouted Avery.

"Shut up Sergeant!" Yelled Olivier, sprinting to the underground opening. She was determined to kill every single attacker. Olivier yanked a grenade out of her pocket, armed it, and threw it into the opening. She stayed her ground, unmoving, amidst the bodies of dead Drachmans.

BAM! The grenade exploded, sending debris and body parts flying out of the hole. Olivier remained where she was, glaring.

She threw in another grenade for good measure, turning away from the hole as it exploded, a wall of fire and smoke and blood as her backdrop. The men, all of them now on the tanks, stared at her in awe. This woman… it was a bad idea to mess with her. She was a violent monster, one who wouldn't stop no matter what was in her way.

Her poor child.

Olivier raised her eyes to face her soldiers.

"Good work men," she said, monotone. "See to it that this mess is cleaned up." She began to walk away.

"But Sir!" Shouted a man next to Avery.

"What?" She snapped.

"What about the entrance?"

"I'll see to it that… Alex takes care of that," she answered, turning away. Olivier calmly strode out of the bullet - ridden room, arms behind her back, in total silence.

The first thing she did was to quickly glance around to see if anyone was around. No – the corridor was completely empty. She was alone.

Olivier collapsed against the wall. She had handled that attack brilliantly, and yet, how had Miles been injured? If she couldn't keep the man she cared for so much from death, then how would she ever be a good mother?

She bit her lip to keep herself from crying again. Don't do this. You have to be strong! How many men are following your example? They expect you to lead them, not break down in the middle of an emergency! Even so, that had been exactly what she had done. Oh lord, she was completely and utterly embarrassed. What a way to ruin her reputation – she might as well resign tomorrow and live out her days in the solitude of the manor.

Olivier gave a sarcastic grin. She would go through with that plan when Hell itself froze over. She slowly stood up and took a deep breath. Though fear had always been one human aspect to evade her, it certainly was upon her now. She was frightened, actually frightened, of seeing Miles. What if he was dead? He was the only man in her entire life whom she truly respected and actually felt something towards. He couldn't be dead. He simply couldn't be.

Finally, after all these years, she was beginning to feel the pain of what it was like to lose a loved one.

Olivier opened the door of the medical ward, slamming it against the door. The medical staff near the entrance jumped in alarm. Olivier calmly walked through the madness; after all, there were casualties to account for after any battle. She made her way to the main desk, where a stressed out soldier was shuffling various papers.

"I'm here to see Major Miles," stated Olivier. The woman looked up, eyes widening at the visitor.

"Of course," she said, quickly standing up. "He's right this way."

She led Olivier to a room at the far end of the hallway. The room was dark.

"Is that all?"

"Yes," said Olivier. She ignored the woman, who remained in the same place, and entered the room.

Quietly, Olivier closed the door behind her. As far as she could tell, the room was empty except for her and the body lying on the bed. Some medical equipment was beeping. She glanced at a heart monitor. Too slow.

Olivier approached the bed. There was Miles, white bandages wrapped around his bare chest. His glasses were gone, and his ruby eyes were closed. Sweat covered his body, so far as she could see in the darkness. She bent down and gently kissed his forehead. No reaction. Olivier gripped the bedside railing.

"Live, Miles. Dammit – that's an order," she mumbled before collapsing onto the floor. He had to live. There was no other option. Hell, she wasn't sure she could survive without him.