Aloha my friends! You are now witnessing a rare event in the bustling environment of FFN! Le Wild Zakuro updating 'You're Not My Real Dad!' AFTER ten days! Le gasp!
And, and, I really like this chapter too! For some reason… *sadistic pokerface* IT'S LONG TOO
Last chapter, the first person to correctly guess Spiderman was NorthernMage. WHOOOOOOP! (YOU GUYS GAVE ME SO MANY REVIEWS OH WOW THANK GOSH!)
Also, remember my poll? The one about liking to write Roy or Ed more? It's like, thirteen/three to Ed…and one of Roy's votes is from me. I feel so sorry for him. X'D
"You're different. You don't fit into a category. They can't control you. They call it *********. You can't let them find out about you."
Keep up the awesome guessing dudes! Moving onwards!
Of Claudio and...Character Death?
"The hell do you want, dumb-ass pile o' rat-crap?" Edward snarled, raising his auto-mail fist and shaking it in Claudio's direction.
Roy lowered his head, glaring across the space between himself and Claudio straight into the prince's eyes.
"You should get back to Aerugo," he said lowly. "Your men are being chased out as we speak."
Claudio snorted contemptuously. He looked ruffled, as if he too had spent the last couple of hours fighting. There were tears in his clothes and cuts on his skin, but he didn't seem seriously wounded. "A shame that the invasion didn't exactly go to plan," he concurred, "But I'm not quite done yet."
Edward threw his arms in the air out of exasperation. "Damn, you're persistent! How many times do we have to tell you that you've lost until you actually get it, you moron?!"
Roy nodded his agreement, slipping on a glove. "There's nothing holding us back out here. Are you sure you want to do this? We'll give you a choice; get lost or we beat you within an inch of your life."
Claudio shrugged a little, his red uniform shifting with the movement. "I choose option three."
He took a few steps forward and Edward speedily transmuted a blade from his arm.
"Neither of the above."
"Not an option," Roy replied stonily, tensing his muscles.
"Let me take him," Edward decided, raising his metal arm-blade. "You're injured, it'll be easier."
"Tch!" Roy sneered a little but obeyed nonetheless. "Alright then, but if you look like you're losing, don't expect me to sit back!"
"Just don't get in my way," Edward joked and charged.
Roy watched on in slight frustration as Claudio swiped out his sword and Edward's arm clashed into it, signalling the start of their fight. Swishing swords and flapping cloaks whirled as the pair fought. It looked like the battle had taken a lot out of Claudio; since he had been working alone, he hadn't had any support to fall back on. This meant he had a lot less fight left in him than Edward, who'd been able to conserve his strength by fighting in formation.
It was obvious to Roy who the winner would be.
Well, it seemed obvious… The Colonel hadn't accounted for any tricks Claudio might have had left up his sleeve.
"This is nice," Claudio huffed, parrying Edward's blow. "Just the two of us, no-one else to get in the way." He paused. "Again. Only last time, I believe your father here was down for the count. How unfortunate he's so vulnerable below that tough exterior. How weak—"
"Put a royal sock in your fat mouth, Aerugo!" Edward snapped. He summoned all the strength he had and shoved Claudio's arm out of the way, bringing up his flesh fist to smack him in the jaw.
The prince stumbled back a few steps, clearly surprised by Edward's newfound strength.
"Nice one, Ed," Roy called smugly. "Kick his arse for me!"
"Easy for you to say, Colonel," Claudio snapped as he moved back in to attack. "You're not even involved; you're completely useless here!"
"Hate to admit it, but he's right! I'll still kick his ass for you though!"
Roy swayed a little in the breeze as his colour scheme faded to white and the world to blue. Deep, jagged cracks raced across the blue expanse and into the alchemist's chest as the word 'useless' slammed into his forehead.
The cracked blue world swirled into tiny squiggles which settled above Roy's head as he sadly moaned, "You need to stop."
Claudio swung his sword downwards and Edward countered it with his metal arm. He quickly stepped forward and punched the prince's stomach with his free hand, a blow that was enough to make him bend slightly. His sword slipped down and Edward punched him again in the stomach and quickly withdrew so that his opponent was doubled over. He whacked an elbow into the back of Claudio's head that had him down on one knee and smirked.
"Still so sure of yourself?" he jibed.
Claudio glared up at him, his dark gaze burning.
Roy made his way over, having recovered from his bout of uselessness. He looked calm as anything on the surface, frowning a little perhaps, but Edward saw a kind of light in his eyes.
The boy glanced away in thought. Roy was a vengeful man; he enjoyed a little payback. When someone did something to him, he'd give them something to think about in return. The opposite was also true with good deeds; if someone provided him with a favour, he'd remember the debt until he eventually paid it off.
But lately, Edward had begun to notice that Roy favoured his friends lives over his own. And since Claudio had put Hawkeye and Alphonse in danger on the battlefield and tried to torture the Fullmetal Alchemist himself, Edward was worried for what Roy might have in store for the prince.
Better make sure he doesn't go too far, the boy thought.
Roy drew a breath. "You've been a big annoyance to me over the last couple of weeks, you know that?" he started.
Claudio didn't reply, his eyes smouldering angrily.
"Torturing me, torturing him, putting the lives of this city in danger, putting Hawkeye and Alphonse's lives in danger… he listed. "Betraying your allies, manipulating and beating up others… It's a long list. But why?"
Claudio seemed to be searching Roy's face. To Edward, the Colonel looked genuinely curious. He wanted to know the reason for this whole scuffle.
"Just to take over more countries?" the Colonel asked. "Just so Aerugo can get it's hands on more wealth and land? Or is there more?"
"My father gave me orders," Claudio muttered begrudgingly. "I followed them. I might be the crown prince, but even I answer to him. I did what I was told, there's no other motivation for me. You can't blame me if I enjoyed it at the same time; I've been gifted with a silver tongue, I like to use it. Don't ask me why he wants this, because I haven't the foggiest."
"Hmf." Roy looked down at him. "You'd risk so many lives without even objecting?"
"Yes," Claudio replied. "Frankly, I don't care what happens to all those Kambeians in there. As long as I win, I'm happy. I wouldn't have cared about you two either, but you brought the whole plan down around my ears. And I hate you for that."
Roy continued to listen with an expressionless face, his hands in his pockets.
"And that's why, Colonel," Claudio said in a low, almost gleeful tone. "I have to at least try to bring you down one last time. No hard feelings."
Roy barely had time to register the sentence before Claudio sprung. Aiming for Edward, the prince threw himself forward and up in a short and brutal uppercut. As the boy stumbled backwards, Claudio whipped out a pistol and there was a bang.
"Ed!" Roy didn't give himself time to compute what had just happened. He knew Edward had been attacked and he was pissed off. He lashed out at Claudio, spotting Edward staggering back a few steps.
The Colonel smacked a fist into Claudio's head, satisfied at the prince's grunt of pain.
"I told you to never touch him again!" shouted Roy, ignoring the sharp twinge in his side from the slash. He belted Claudio again with his hardest punch, the prince still too winded to react.
"I already warned you," Roy growled, his fury mounting. Raising his voice further, he yelled, "Don't you defy me!" He raised his hand to fire off a brutal, finishing blast. He had disregarded logic now - Claudio had hurt too many people Roy cared about. He deserved these flames.
Doubled over, Claudio glanced up deviously.
Roy didn't have time to flinch before Claudio came barreling at him, escaping the flames that quickly vanished into the air as Roy's shock caused him to lose control of the transmutation.
As Claudio tackled the Colonel, Edward managed to swing up with his metal arm and make a stab at the prince's back. He had no idea whether it hit home or not, and a few seconds later they were gone.
"Hell…" he grunted, clutching his burning side and falling to his knees. Blood trickled through.
Roy let out a gasp as his back hit the cold water of the river, another mistake on his part. He coughed and thrashed as water filled his airways, choking him.
He broke Claudio's grip and flailed for the surface, coughing and spitting out water as he tried to stay afloat. But the current of the river was strong and he kept getting pushed under, and the fact that Claudio had just grabbed his collar didn't help any. The two were dragged into the depths of the river, twisting and kicking at each other.
"Roy! Get to the other side, it's closer!" called Edward as Claudio grabbed the Colonel. From his position on all-fours right on the edge of the riverbank, the only thing he could make out were occasional flashes of material and an amount of blood staining the water.
He removed his hand from his bleeding side, hastily inspecting the wound. Luckily for him, Claudio was a swordsman and hence hadn't practised with guns much. His aim was off, but the bullet had left a deep graze just under Edward's ribs.
"Dammit, dammit, dammit!" he cursed, shoving himself away from the water's edge and clutching at his head. He let out a frustrated growl as he tangled his fingers in his bangs. A streak of blood slicked his black hair as he dropped his clenched fists at his sides.
He couldn't jump in there, he'd be more useless than the Colonel on a wet day. Trying to beat Claudio and drag Roy ashore in a river with a bullet wound was a little beyond the young alchemist's abilities. He'd just drown too.
But he had to try, right?!
"Agh! Crap-dammit!" He started cussing passionately as he took a few steps back from the bank. He took a deep breath, heart pounding. He swung his arms in preparation to jump.
One…two…thre—
"Oh, no you don't," came a familiar voice as a hand gripped Edward's shoulder tightly. "Leave this one to me."
Edward turned his head, looking worried. "The Colonel! You gotta save him!"
A wry grin came from the newcomer. "I'll get him, no worries. Just stay out of it."
The young Amestrian cast his golden gaze back to the surface of the river, but all he could make out was bubbles. "Hurry!"
"Alley-oop!" Flashing Edward a thumbs up, Tyrell disappeared into the river with a the slightest of splashes.
Roy coughed and sucked in air as he briefly broke the surface. He flailed his arms and struggled in the direction of the bank, constantly battling against the surprisingly strong current.
Is this because I used you as explosives? Roy thought, almost smirking despite his predicament. If so, I'm sorry about that!
He caught a glimpse of Edward clinging to the grass at the edge of the river, shouting. He couldn't make out what.
He snatched a breath of air that was really more water than anything else before he felt a tug around his neck and he was pulled under by a force much stronger than the current.
Claudio was pulling him down.
The young prince had the advantage here; Aerugo was a coastal country, on the edge of the South Sea. Though not as marine-oriented as Orato, the citizens were still good swimmers. Claudio was no exception.
And then there was Roy, who never thought that an inability to swim could cost him his life. Added to this, his wounds had started to sting fiercely. There was no-one who could help him out of the situation either, since Edward was nearly as weak a swimmer as the Colonel. The fact that the boy might try to throw himself in regardless was another point on his list of worries.
All in all, Roy's outlook was grim.
And Claudio wasn't helping.
The prince dragged Roy in closer, thrusting a knee into the Colonel's side. The already stinging wound suffered a brutal blow that caused Roy to cry out and lose what precious little oxygen he had left. He swallowed water, tried to spit it out and only swallowed more.
The only thought on Roy's mind now was air. Must have air. Find up. He ignored his injuries, forgot Edward and forced his eyes open underwater to see that Claudio wasn't struggling at all. Relishing in the fact that he could still hold his breath for much longer, the prince was continuing to hold Roy down by the collar.
Sorry, his eyes said as blood trailed upwards from a new wound to his shoulder. I really did want to avoid killing you…but this is your own fault.
Roy's gaze locked with the prince's, pleading. He felt like his lungs were about to burst, like his throat was itching and he could feel his extremities going numb.
When Claudio didn't falter, Roy's eyes hardened. Alright. If this is how it's got to be, at least I'm going down fighting!
Desperate now as a lack of air caused his vision to blacken even further, Roy began to thrash wildly to try and hit Claudio anywhere just trying, trying, to get him off.
He gave one last, desperate twist and fell limp, his chest burning and clawing at him out of a need for air. This sensation gradually faded; everything faded.
A brief series of images flashed in his mind as he suddenly realised there was no reason to keep fighting.
He couldn't win this.
Hawkeye, Hughes, Havoc, Falman, Breda, Fuery. His team. He'd miss them. Would they miss him too? Probably. He hoped they would. He wanted them to remember him too. It'd be a shame if they didn't. And he had never got to tell them how much he appreciated them. He hoped they knew it already.
A fuzzy image of his parents, who he hadn't seen alive since he was about seven. Black hair and dark eyes was all he could remember of his mother currently, and his father was a pair of warm hands. Auntie Chris' cigarette smoke reached him along with the perfume of a hundred 'sisters'.
Ed and Al, the boys. His boys? Their smiles. Edward's shouting, Alphonse's kindness. They were wonderful, so wonderful, Roy hoped they knew how much they meant to him as well. He hoped they'd get their bodies back.
He remembered Kambei a little, Claudio, Tyrell, becoming Fuhrer. He'd wanted that so badly. Oh well… Hawkeye was next. Good luck…
All that in a few short seconds.
He didn't really want to die, he thought quietly as he felt his pulse begin to weaken. It didn't seem his style. It didn't seem like something he should ought be doing. And for something so useless? Well that was just…damn…annoying…
Roy's eyes flickered closed on the sight of Claudio's blurred red and white outline.
Ah well, he thought wearily. I guess it's poetic justice then… Flames are done in by the water.
Tyrell spotted Roy's white shirt in the relative clearness of the river and struck out towards it. The Colonel was floating aimlessly in the current, unconscious. He was sinking towards the riverbed, his unruly hair splaying in the water.
Tyrell couldn't see Claudio anywhere around and assumed he'd swam off after achieving his objective.
He propelled himself closer, grabbing Roy by the back of his jacket and kicking off from the riverbed to head upwards. It wasn't far, the river was only about twice The Colonel's height depth-wise, if even.
This man was going to make it, dammit.
Out of the water, Edward dug his fingers into the riverbank anxiously only to find himself tearing up clumps of earth. Yes, he hated Roy so much, but he had to live. He really liked him. And he would detest him even more if he lived, because he'd made the boy freak out so badly. But he'd love him so much for it.
"Dammit, Roy," Edward nearly snarled, his voice thick and shaky with pain and emotion. "You'd better get your lazy ass up here."
The burning pain tearing up his side hadn't subsided at all, and the blood that still leaked from the wound unnerved him as he felt it dripping down his skin and soaking into his shirt.
It seemed like hours before Tyrell broke surface, his white hair sticking to his face as he plowed towards the bank with Roy in tow. The young shaman had Roy on his back, the water supporting most of their weight.
The Colonel's head was above water, but it lolled to the side as if he were asleep. Water streamed off his features, his black hair soggy and bedraggled.
Tyrell bared his teeth as he struggled to reach the shore. Fighting the current and trying to keep Roy's head out of the water as he towed him along was proving to be quite a challenge, even for such a strong swimmer.
Edward clapped and turned his arm into a hook that somewhat resembled an umbrella handle and helped pull Tyrell the last little bit.
"Help me get him out," the shaman panted, gripping the bank as Edward returned his auto-mail to an arm.
The young alchemist grabbed Roy's shoulders and heaved him up, Tyrell pushing from below. Together, they managed to get Roy free of the river, and Tyrell quickly followed.
"Roy!" Edward barked, tapping the man's cheek. "Roy!"
There was no response.
Edward felt panic flood his veins as he pressed two fingers to Roy's neck. "He's not breathing!"
Tyrell's violet eyes narrowed. "Get back. Give me some room."
Edward nodded mutely and obliged, sliding backwards and looking scared.
Tyrell set to work immediately, utilising the skills he'd picked up as a shaman and the from compulsory lessons he'd received in his seaside home. He slipped Roy onto his side, attempting to drain the water from the man's throat. A small dribble leaked out and the shaman quickly rolled him onto his back.
He tugged Roy's jacket out of the way and wrenched open his shirt to expose his chest. The young shaman crossed his hands and started thumping down on the area to try and get some life back into him. He was determined not to let the Colonel die in his care…or at least, bring him back from this death.
Edward watched on in anxious distress as Tyrell fought to get Roy breathing again. The Colonel looked waterlogged, like a drowned rat. His uniform was sopping wet and his skin was as white as the snow that fell in Resembool's cold winter.
Edward hugged his knees to his chest, angry and and tired and scared all at once. He was angry at how little he could do in the situation, since he knew nothing about this. If only he didn't have this damn auto-mail, he could have jumped in there and helped Roy earlier instead of being totally useless. If only he could do something now, to help bring the Colonel back. He was so angry at his pathetic self.
Tired because even though it was still daytime, he'd spent so long fighting and had such crappy nights' sleep the past fortnight that he was ready to crash. It was nearly getting to be too much, all this stuff. And as if he could take a break. It was all damn stressful.
He'd been shot, for goodness' sake.
Finally, scared. He knew there was all too real a possibility that even with Tyrell here, Roy might not make it. He'd been under for quite a while, maybe it was too late anyway. Edward's mind fell prey to the infamous 'what ifs'.
What if we were too late? What if it's not enough? What if he does die? What could I say to Hawkeye? Oh, damn. He can't die, he can't die, he just can't. But he could though. But I don't want him to! Edward's forehead fell forward and he hid his face behind his knees. He couldn't keep looking. He gasped in pain as the wound on his side throbbed angrily.
He didn't even get to have any say in it. It's too cruel. He had to die so stupidly. This is so freaking stupid. There was so much I wanted to tell him. Too much. I don't know what to do next. I can't face them. I can't face anyone. I can't face the world. This is all my fault, my damn fault. Everything's my fault.
Seemingly accepting that Roy was going to die, Edward curled up tighter and didn't even care about the chance the Colonel could still pull through.
Twennyse'n, twennyeight, twennynine, thirdy… Tyrell halted his compressions briefly to pump some air into Roy's lungs before continuing. His determination still hadn't faltered. He'd keep this up until he collapsed of exhaustion. One, two, three…
"Kh…ulp…" Roy's body gave a twitching jerk and water came bubbling out of his mouth. He started coughing and Tyrell quickly rolled him onto his side.
Edward's heart jumped and his head shot up off his knees to look. His amber-gold eyes widened in shock as he witnessed the Colonel's ridiculous will to live spark up and save him once more.
"Ku… Hack! Kof kof!" Roy's body heaved as he coughed up more river water, retching and choking a little as he gratefully brought air into his body.
Tyrell rubbed his shoulder gently, trying to give him something to focus on whilst he struggled to recover from his phase of near-death.
Edward slipped closer as Roy's violent choking gradually eased to rasping pants. He still had no idea what he could do for the Colonel in this state, but he settled for taking off his gloves and reaching out to brush the man's damp hair out of his eyes. He completely disregarded the blood dripping from his side.
"He made it…" he whispered to himself, taking comfort in the feel of his commanding officer's cold forehead under his fingertips. "He made it…"
Roy remained half-conscious on his side for a good couple of minutes, trying to catch his breath. His black hair was sodden and stuck to his face, sharply accenting his pale skin. His eyes were closed as if he were trying to preserve energy and he let out a weak cough every so often.
Slowly but surely, his breathing became slower and less laboured as he regained a little strength. His dark eyes flickered open, but he closed them again a second later.
"Ugh…" He gave a couple of hoarse coughs. "I'm never swimming again. Ever."
Edward smiled a little, semi-relieved. "Just because you almost drown once. God Roy, why you gotta be so biased all the time?"
"Mm." The Colonel's smirk was small, but it was enough to assure Edward he'd pull through. Not attempting to move from his lying position on his side, the alchemist let out a fast breath which resulted in another coughing fit. As soon as he was able, he gasped out worriedly, "You alright, Ed? Did he…get you?"
"Hey now," Tyrell murmured, gripping the man's shoulder. "Don't push too hard."
"I'm alright. Just a scratch. We can be twins, huh?" Edward joked.
Roy lips twitched again. "Tyrell… Fix…him up…please?"
Edward nodded clenched his jaw against the surge of emotion that tossed and turned within him, instead moving to take the Colonel's wrist tightly, as if he could disappear any second. "Stupid idiot. You're the one who's almost dying - again."
Roy let out a grunt as he was moved onto his back by Tyrell and finally managed to get his eyes open. A messy smudge of colour gradually molded itself into the world. He found that the grip on his wrist had shifted; he was now the one holding Edward, his gloved hand twisted in the material of the boy's red cloak. The pounding pain in his head and chest intensified as…tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.
He'd come so close to losing it all.
"Sh*t," he moaned, closing them again. "This hurts."
Tyrell let out a laugh. "Ah, you'll be fine."
"But I feel like crap though."
Edward smiled tensely. "You look the part, too."
"You l-little…" Roy trailed off, breathing heavily. He started to tremble, the cold air on his soaking body finally reaching him. "D-damn, it's cold," he managed to whisper.
"Sit back a sec', Tyrell, and Roy, close your eyes," Edward ordered, clapping his hands. He set them to Roy's shirt and there was a bright flash of reaction. Wisps of steam curled upwards as Edward evaporated the water in Roy's shirt and jacket before he touched his knee and did the same to his thick military trousers. The Colonel's hair and skin was all that remained wet. Or so Edward thought.
The young alchemist felt something on his own knee and looked down to see Roy tapping him weakly.
"N-no worse feeling than wet gloves," the man mumbled as he shivered convulsively.
Edward rolled his eyes and clapped, drying off Roy's ignition gloves. "Right."
He beckoned to Tyrell. "C'mere. I'll do you too."
The young prince nodded and moved around to Roy's left.
Edward clapped and placed his hands on Tyrell's chest, letting his alchemy flash across the boy's pale singlet and beige coat, right down to his baggy grey trousers.
"And I'll fix you up. Equivalent exchange, right?"
"Right." Edward nodded, then gave a sharp intake of breath as his wound sparked up again. "Ow!"
"Ed!" Roy struggled to prop himself up, but his trembling body simply wasn't strong enough. "Ugh…"
"Relax, Mustang!" Edward exclaimed, clutching at his side. "It just a scratch, okay? It stings a little, don't get all worked up."
Tyrell took off his coat and tossed it to the ground. "Transmute that into bandages, wouldya? I don't need it anymore anyway."
Edward nodded, clapping his hands and dropping to his knees with a grunt of pain. There was a flash and the jacket became shreds of material.
Roy looked on worriedly, his dark eyes shadowed.
"I'll use these to bind the wound, and I'll treat it fully when we get back to the palace. Lucky Claudio only carries a small gun for self defense," Tyrell said as Edward tugged his jackets up out of the way. "If he'd had something stronger, or was a better shot, you'd be dead."
He grit his teeth, twisting his fingers into his clothes out of pain. After Tyrell had successfully staunched the bleeding, the pair turned their attention on the Colonel.
Roy kept his eyes closed as he nestled his chin into the crook of his neck so his cheek was resting on his shoulder. "I guess I c-can't just go to sleep here, can I?" he asked.
Tyrell shook his head. "Not a chance. As soon as you're ready, we'll try and get you up to the castle."
Roy sighed. "No time like the present. Lend us a hand?"
"Are you sure?" Tyrell asked, surprised. "We can wait, if you want."
"Hell. The s-s-sooner I get somewhere warm, the bet-ter," Roy told him, his shivering not slowing at all. "Help m-me up."
Edward and Tyrell slipped their hands around behind Roy's back and helped him to sit up.
The Colonel paused, closed his eyes and flicked his head to the side slowly, shaking and twitching like a plucked guitar string on caffeine. "Ok-k-k-kay. G-gimme a s-sec-cond. Lemme c-catch-ch my breath-th.."
Edward frowned. "You look like you're freezing to death. Is it that cold?"
"The river's pretty chilly," Tyrell said with a nod. "And since his blood wasn't carrying warmth for a while there…"
Roy gave a start as Edward pushed up close to him, rubbing his flesh arm up and down the Colonel's back quickly to try and get some heat back into him.
The dark-haired man looked at his subordinate in puzzlement, a little comforted by his presence. He was nice and warm, his touch and movement a secure reminder to Roy that they were both alive and well.
"Can't have you turning into a State Popsicle, now, can we?" the boy said loftily, breaking the silence. "Hawkeye would not be pleased with me if that happened."
Tyrell smiled and pressed close too, despite the fact that he had little warmth to offer. "Yeah. We didn't fight to keep you alive for so long just to have you die of hypothermia, y'know."
After a few moments, when he had warmed up a little, the two teens took up positions at Roy's sides with his arms over their shoulders.
"Three, two, one, up!" Tyrell counted, he and Edward straightening on the last word to pull Roy up. The Colonel contributed as best he was able, attempting to hold as much of his own weight as possible without collapsing.
"Right," he panted. "L-let's go."
Ever so slowly, the three headed towards Kin Palace. Roy relied heavily on his two helpers, but insisted on doing as much as he could manage himself.
"Why d-d-does stuf-f l-like this keep ha-happening?" he grumbled, trembling violently in the surprisingly cold spring air. They were walking along the river in the shadows of the city, which must have contributed to the temperature.
"Ev-v-v-veryone keeps seeing me whe-en I'm in-njured or weak," Roy complained. "S-sorry to have to as-sk all this of you, T-Tyrell. And sorry I have to keep rel-lying on you, Edward."
"Ah, it doesn't matter," Edward said, a hint of a cringe on his face. "I won't think any less of you. You were dead not ten minutes ago and here you are walking it off."
Roy laughed once, softly. "Y-yeah."
"Hold up," Edward said suddenly, causing Tyrell and Roy to slow to a stop.
"What is it?" Tyrell asked, looking at him. "Something wrong? Is it your wound?"
"No, that's just a sting. Can you hold him up for a moment?" Edward asked the young shaman.
He responded with an affirmative nod.
Roy leaned left on Tyrell as Edward drew back, shrugging off his cloak. He grabbed it by the hood and stretched, slipping it over Roy's head. Moving back around to the front, he stood on tiptoe to reach over Roy's shoulders and grab the loose sleeves, ignoring the Colonel's questioning look as he tied them around his neck like a scarf. The motion sent a stab of pain right up and sharply into his side, but he ignored it.
"That oughtta be a little warmer," he said firmly, making his way back to Roy's right flank and slipping under his arm.
Roy's face gained a little colour; either the bright scarlet of the jacket was casting a red sheen on his face or he was getting embarrassed; Edward couldn't tell which.
"Your assistance is appreciated, Fullmetal," Roy mumbled in a tone which held a hidden degree of awkwardness.
Together the trio managed to get up to Kin Palace and Edward waved an arm at the guards.
"Hey!" he called, catching the pair's attention. "It's us - Ed, Roy and Tyrell. Let us through?"
The guards looked surprised, but gave the signal for the gates to be pulled open.
"You took a while getting back," one of them commented as the group approached. "Everyone else is already inside."
"We ran into some trouble on the way," Tyrell explained and Roy gave a tired half-nod. "But it's been handled."
Edward looked around at the courtyard within the castle grounds, taking in the flowers that had started to grow in the grass since they'd arrived. The buds on the trees looked even more like they were about to explode out than they had the day Edward, Roy and Tyrell had first walked in together. Spring was definitely getting underway now.
Edward looked to his left, noticing that Roy had gradually been getting more and more reliant on the pair of teens with each step they took. Edward wasn't surprised by how drained the man looked.
His black eyes were glazed and half-lidded and he blinked slowly, as if he were struggling to open them again each time. His breathing was faint, but shallow and a little wheezy as he kept dragging his feet along the cobbled path.
"You're lucky you're not very tall, or we wouldn't have been able to get you back here," Edward jibed as they reached the front doors.
Roy's only response was the slightest of nods, a tiny movement that indicated he'd heard.
Edward brought up a knee and pushed the doors open with his foot, not wanting to let got of the Colonel in case he collapsed. It didn't seem far off.
Roy watched Edward lightly kick the door open through a haze of exhaustion. He felt that he ought to complain about it, but he couldn't be bothered.
"Colonel!"
Roy's gaze moved upwards slowly and reached the slightly blurred visage of First Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye.
"Hi," he mumbled, blinking tiredly. "It's g-good to see you."
Hawkeye jogged forward, looking anxious but relieved at the same time. "What did you do this time?"
"I went for a dip in the river," Roy explained in a quiet voice. "Great fun. Ten out of ten recommend."
"You fell in?" Hawkeye asked incredulously.
"Correction," Roy replied. "Got t-tackled in and drowned."
"By who?"
"Prince Claudio."
Hawkeye sighed. "Sir, could you maybe try not making enemies everywhere you go?"
"Mm." The Colonel smiled weakly. He grunted as the world tilted a little out of his dizziness "Will keep that in mind n-next time."
Tyrell adjusted his grip on Roy's shoulder. "We should get him up to his room. He needs some rest."
"Psssh," Roy twitched limply and tried to joke. "I'm g-great. I don't need rest. It's just drowning."
Hawkeye rolled her eyes. "Would you like some help getting him up there?" she asked.
Edward opened his mouth but Roy cut in first.
"He's g-gonna say no," the Colonel mumbled. "But they will. I can't… I'm a lot heav-vier than I look, and they won't be able to get me up there by themselves when I'm not walking anymore."
"What…?" Edward looked confused.
"In fact…" Roy's eyes slipped closed. "…it might just be easier to call for a stretcher or something…"
Hawkeye was the first to catch on, leaping forward to slip in front of her superior as he slumped down. She caught him on her back and the two teenagers tightened their grip on his arms.
"Just let him down," Tyrell advised. He and Edward gently lowered Roy to the ground, Hawkeye rubbing her forehead.
"Of course he passes out now," she said with the slightest hint of irritation. "He's got such a great sense of timing."
"He just…shut down?" Edward looked puzzled, kneeling down and taking off his glove again. He touched a flesh hand to his superior's forehead, checking his temperature.
"Geez, he's still ice cold!" the boy said in surprise.
"It's the burn scars," Hawkeye explained quietly. "His skin is weaker and more vulnerable to the cold, plus his circulation isn't so strong."
"I-I never noticed more than one burn," said Tyrell. "He has more?"
Hawkeye nodded. "But most are very slight, on his arms and legs. You can't see them unless you look. Let's get him up there."
Tyrell turned his head towards the staff corridor and took a deep breath. "Medic!" he bellowed at the top of his lungs.
"…him in…down there…"
"…o, the cou…"
"…sure? It's no…you should…"
"…Yeah. Trust me…etter…"
"…ead lef…"
"…eep that…evel! If he…"
Roy's hearing slipped in and out of focus. He caught snatches of the conversation taking place around him, mostly just mumbled comments and directions. He felt distant, like part of him was floating somewhere else. Somewhere fluffy and warm, as opposed to the numb cold he could feel now.
He could smell Edward. Why?
One eye opened slowly and his gaze slipped over the red sleeves tied around his neck. Oh, that's really blurry…
He missed an unknown point of time and when he next attained some form of consciousness, he felt a hand on his forehead. Soft, warm, nice.
"Still cold."
The words echoed in Roy's head as he struggled to put a name to the voice.
Um, um, um… Riza. He struggled to reach up and touch that warm hand, but his arms didn't move a muscle. They were too tired, too empty. No energy.
No energy. Sleepy. Night.
"…Unf…" Roy was sure he'd made the noise himself. Yes… He must have. The warm hand rubbed his cheek gently and he tried to smile. Whether he achieved this or not was unknown to him, but all that really mattered was that he tried.
He had the sense that they were moving, but he didn't really know or care where to. As long as he knew she was there and safe, he was happy.
He vanished for another immeasurable period of time, but he was much more awake when he came back. He knew he was in his and Edward's room. He knew he was on a couch. He knew it was his couch. He knew someone was trying to take the cloak and he didn't want them to.
"Mmmn…" he tried to form words, but couldn't. He forced his dark eyes open, but they slid over the scene and flickered closed again. His fingers twitched.
"Just leave it, Tyrell."
"Sure. But, if you'll excuse me, I gotta go do something…"
Roy allowed himself to leave again, satisfied he'd managed to hold on to the coat.
It was warm here…
Warm and so soft…
And knowing he had Hawkeye, Edward and Alphonse safely with him in the room was the greatest comfort of all.
"Hah…hah…hah…"
Stumble.
"Ah…huf huf…huf…"
Trip.
"Uff!"
Fall.
"Nngkh…uh…huh…"
Struggle.
"So."
Claudio trembled as he raised his head off the floor, grunting softly in effort. One arm out in front, the prince had fallen to the ground in a field just outside Ranri. He clenched his jaw and met the gaze of the one standing above him.
Finally, Tyrell Torfell, Second Prince of Orato looked down upon the one who had tormented him for so long.
"Our positions have been reversed."
Claudio let out a pained grunt. He glanced backwards at his wounded shoulder; that Mustang brat sure had given him something to think about.
"And it's most fitting we meet like this now…" Tyrell walked forward a little. "…since this'll be the last time."
He stopped right in front of the prince who had formerly controlled him, crouching down with a smile.
"I know you've got it on you," he said quietly, his light expression not changing. "Just hand it over and this won't get messy, 'kay?"
Claudio snorted, and regretted it when he was sharply reminded of his aching body. "Who are you to be giving me orders…?"
"Oh, I dunno," Tyrell reached forward, his hand hovering over the stab wound on Claudio's back as he pointed. "I am sort of the one with the advantage here though."
"What could you do?" Claudio mocked, though to little effect given his position. "Kill me? I think not."
"Kill you, no." Tyrell shook his head. "It wouldn't be worth the blood on my hands. I can do this though."
He reached behind his back and pulled a small bottle out of his pocket. "Here's the deal; hand over your bottle, or I use mine."
Claudio's eyes narrowed. "The hell…?"
"Vinegar," Tyrell said mildly. "The strong stuff, right out of the kitchens of Kin Palace. Mixed with salt. Killer on an open wound."
"You wouldn't," Claudio breathed.
"Try me," said Tyrell, his expression hardening. "Hand it over."
"Over my dead body."
Tyrell leaned in so he was face to face with Claudio. "It might just be that way, your highness."
Flicking open the cap of his bottle, he reached out an arm and allowed a couple of drops to dribble out and onto Claudio's wounded shoulder.
He kept his face close to the other prince's, watching as the man's face pulled taught in agony.
"And when this runs out, there are a whole lot of ways I can make you squirm," Tyrell said, his face now cold and expressionless. "So hand the bottle over now, save me the trouble of looking for it."
"Ne-ver," Claudio grated out, his hands digging into the grass of the field he lay in.
"Okay," Tyrell tilted his hand a little more, letting the stinging liquid seep into the wound. "Just know this won't stop 'til you give me what I want. And this is my nice way of asking - I'm even disinfecting this wound for you and everything."
"Nnngk…" Claudio screwed his eyes shut. Finally, he gasped, "Alright! I'll give you the damned bottle! Just please, stop! Stop!"
The bottle of vinegar snapped closed with a flick of Tyrell's wrist. He smiled. "Good boy."
"Your father isn't worth me having to suffer for this antidote…" Claudio struggled to prop himself up on one elbow, using his other hand to reach into his pocket and pull out a small vial of amber-coloured liquid.
Tyrell held out a hand. He jumped as he saw Claudio's pupils contract, signalling he was about to strike.
The young shaman speedily grabbed the prince's wrist, effectively stopping him from smashing the bottle on the ground.
"Nah ah ah," he said, his relief at saving the precious glass betrayed only by his own shaking hands. He pried it from Claudio's grasp. "Just you hand that to me."
The Aerugonian prince let out an angry growl as his former lackey stood up straight. He tucked the vial safely away, his violet eyes cast downwards.
He took a step away, turning to leave.
"You'd really end it here?" Claudio said, regaining a little strength and pushing himself onto his hands and knees. "Coward."
Swish.
"Oof!"
Tyrell swung his leg around with all his might, bringing his foot straight into Claudio's ribs.
The man fell onto his side, breathing heavily and looking stunned. He hadn't seen that one coming.
"That was for Ed and Roy," Tyrell growled icily.
Claudio smirked a little. "You—"
Smack!
He rolled sideways as another kick landed in the side of his stomach. Groaning, he closed his eyes.
"That was for my father," his attacker said.
Claudio opened one eye to see Tyrell's face right above him. The world flashed black and white as the boy's fist landed on his cheek.
"And that," he said angrily as he wiped a speck of blood off his knuckles, "was for me."
Claudio's smirk had vanished now. He glared wearily at Tyrell, his dark eyes shaded with pain.
"Take my advice," the white-haired shaman said stonily. "As soon as you can stand, head south. Your troops are still being forced out. You can catch up with them and then you can get back to your home. And give your father a message…"
Claudio listened begrudgingly, clutching his side.
"If he dares to attack Kambei again, or Orato, or Mantiyon, he faces the army of everyone else in this alliance. We each stand united and we will keep you in check at any cost. Kambei, Orato, Mantiyon, Amestris, Laverre…even Kanara in the north and Tracos in the far west. We'll all be on you if you attack even one place. So you stay in Aerugo. Stay where you belong, because we don't want you."
Claudio struggled to prop himself up with one arm.
"It's going to fall apart someday, you know," he said. "With somewhere as bloodstained as Amestris in the heart of this alliance, it'll all come crashing down. And then we'll strike."
"And we'll be ready for you," Tyrell replied. "Orato is no-longer Aerugo's to order around. Now scat, before I hit you again, harder."
NICE ONE TYRELL WHOO! Next awesome chapter up soon - although I gotta say this is one of my favourites. (We're like…three from the end now! D:)
I'd also like to gloat at the fact that I managed to get three more of my friends into FMA. After a long time of asking.
Just goes to show - it might take three weeks, but my orders eventually get through to my subordinates! XD
Also, I'm now on deviantART. My username is DammitHughes, if you guys are wanting to look for me. There's a picture I drew of Tyrell up there now. Granted, it's not FABULOUS since I just figured out how to use a tablet to draw but…if you're bored and on deviantART, it'd be awesome if you checked it out.
Also, I'm sorry if it seems like I'm mentioning my birthday a lot, but...I need to do it again because…! My wonderful friends threw a surprise party for me and I need to do a thankful shoutout to them! I mean, they did it without warning and it was cosplay, like...seven of them! THANK YOU SO MUCH GUYS! TT^TT (My reaction was pretty damn hilarious though. "I'm...so freakin' confused.")
SHOUTOUT TO ALL MAH FRIENDS! Toshi and Tat and Private Bastard and Chris and my Squishy Sea-kun and Spidey and Neko-senpai and BM and Spongebob and Leggyolo and Gobby and Milz and Grace and and Demi-not-Mayo and Sonicassy… I think that's everyone? (I'm so hopeless… XD)
ZAKURO AWAY! *trips and falls onto rainbow, smashes face into it and flies off in a hopelessly undignified manner*