September 17th, 1996
It was after midnight before Winry left Edward's bedside to find food and check on the rest of her family. Edward had awakened once, briefly, late in the evening when the nurses came to check on him, take his vitals, and give him medications through an IV. He had even managed a few bites of oatmeal before falling asleep again.
The best thing for Edward now, was rest. The doctors were not predicting imminent demise, and so Winry would place her worries where they really needed to go. Edward would live. What about the rest of her family?
Winry was not surprised to find one of the hospital's few security guards stationed at the end of the hallway that held Edward's room. While there had been no time to even consider an investigation into the cause of the inferno, to Winry's knowledge, she had little doubt as to who was responsible. Edward seemed convinced certainly.
Though with what had just happened, the guard's presence was only vaguely reassuring. How safe were they really? What if Arsenic was willing to blow up a hospital? They had destroyed a festival ground to get at her family.
She nodded to the guard, and moved into the larger waiting area there on the second floor. At one end, most of her great-grandchildren were gathered, clearly waiting on news of their brother. Neither Reichart nor Deanna were in evidence, so Winry assumed they were with Hrafn. Her heart ached for the boy, and she wasn't sure what it said about her that she already had a design half-way formed in her mind for what he would need in an auto-mail arm if he wanted the dexterity to keep playing instruments.
Winry considered moving that direction, but then stopped as she spotted someone else very familiar, but sitting all alone. "Danielle?"
The long-haired girl looked up from where she had been sitting, staring down into the cup in her hands thoughtfully. She was still a mess, though she looked like she had at least attempted to wash her face, and she had pulled her hair back into a tail so it was out of her face. The ends were singed. The bandage Winry had put on her cheek earlier was still there. "Mrs. Elric. Is… is there any news?"
Winry smiled kindly at the girl. She would have even if he hadn't already been told that the girl had used everything Alphonse had taught her to try and keep both of the brothers alive. "Edward will be fine," she replied, giving her the good news first. "He's very grateful that you helped save his life."
"I didn't save anyone," Danielle objected, looking abashed. "I just did what Teacher showed me, to give them a little more energy. I don't think I healed anything really."
"The doctors disagree. In a life-or-death situation, even the smallest amount of help can make a big difference. So, thank you."
"You're welcome," Danielle replied then. "Is there any news about Teacher?"
"I haven't heard anything in a while," Winry admitted. "I was just going to go over to the surgery ward." There was something odd here. "Danielle… why are you here at this hour? Where is your grandmother?"
That was it, tears started. Danielle rubbed at them vigorously with one sleeve of her shirt. "Grandma's gone," she replied, voice quavering though surprisingly steady considering. "You know she couldn't run very fast. We hurried as fast as we could, and I refused to leave her, but the crowds were terrible, and there was so much smoke. By the time we got out of the grounds, she was coughing badly, and I was mostly carrying her along, and she went down. I tried…to save her but… she was gone before they could get her to an ambulance."
Winry's instincts knew what to do. She sat down in the next seat and enfolded the girl in a warm, strong hug. Danielle did not resist. The girl leaned over and sobbed, crying without reservation, taking what little comfort there was to be had after watching her grandmother die. Winry waited patiently, letting her cry it out. Several minutes passed before Danielle quieted, then sat up.
"Have you spoken with your mother?" Winry asked, avoiding the awkward moment by moving on to the problem she could solve.
Danielle nodded. "I did. She'll be back from her work trip as soon as she can. She said she's getting on the train tomorrow, but it'll still take her a few days to get here."
"You're welcome to stay with us," Winry offered. "Or at least, at one of the family houses. I'm not actually sure which of us will be going home first," she admitted. "But you don't have to go home alone tonight, and you're welcome to stay as long as it takes for your mother to come for you."
"Thank you." Danielle squeezed her again before finally letting go. "And I don't mind waiting. I told Mom that I had friends to stay with and I'd be fine so… it's good to know I didn't lie to her on the phone."
"Hey, Danielle?"
Winry and the girl both looked up to find Dessa standing there. She and Danielle were almost the same age, and were friends at school. Winry had a suspicion she knew why her great-granddaughter was there.
Dessa waited a moment, then continued. "You want to come wait with us? We're not leaving yet, because Mom and Dad are still with Hrafn, but Aunt Raina said that when she goes home you can stay at their house."
Winry looked over and saw that Raina and her younger children had arrived to join the family pile. Urey and Yurian were still nowhere in sight.
"Yeah. That sounds good." Danielle stood up and joined Dessa. Winry followed the girls back to the group.
Raina nodded to her as she joined them.
"Thank you," Winry said at once.
"I couldn't let her spend tonight alone." Raina looked as if that much should be obvious. "And I don't believe that you or Elicia will be going home tonight. Cassie or Aldon either."
"Where are Urey and Yurian?"
"Helping the fire department and police sift through the rubble," Raina replied with a grim frown. "Apparently the fire finally burned itself out about an hour ago. It's too dark to investigate too closely, but they're out looking for survivors and making sure everything is truly burned off. If it isn't…and it rains again…"
That would be a disaster. "So, they're transmuting the remnants?" Winry guessed.
"That's what I was told. I just hope it's safe."
"I'm sure they'll be fine. They're not risk-takers usually." Unlike Edward and Alphonse. Winry opened her mouth to ask the question, but cut off as several people burst through the doors at the end of the hall from the stairs that led down to the main lobby. Striding toward her, and heading straight through the room towards the surgical ward were several people in military uniforms and physicians' coats. It took Winry a moment to recognize the uniformed officers were State Alchemists.
But she knew the man at the front with a very determined all-business expression.
"Ethan?"
Her son looked at her for just a moment, but to her surprise—or maybe not—he didn't stop. They were in a hurry, and Winry knew why. The operating rooms were struggling to keep up with the worst cases.
One of the State Alchemists paused a moment, and Winry recognized Amalea Finn-Wilkes, the Live Wire alchemist. Amalea gave her a quick nod. "Mrs. Elric. We've just arrived from Central at the President's direct orders, with us, more security, an investigations team, and emergency supplies."
Bless you, Tore. "You're exactly what we've been needing, Amalea. Thank you."
The younger woman gave her a soft smile. "Thank us when we've saved every life we can." The smile faded. "Ethan was told to report to the surgery where they're working on True Soul."
Which answered Winry's question. Alphonse was still in surgery, all these hours later. That… did not bode well.
Amalea hurried after the others and, with no better direction, Winry followed.
Elicia was in the smaller waiting room, staring at the doors to the surgery, with an expression that seemed unsure whether she should feel hope, or terror.
"I saw Ethan," Elicia spoke up quietly as Winry joined her. "He said… he said he was going to see Alphonse first."
"Al couldn't ask for better care."
"He's been in surgery for over six hours, Winry." Elicia's eyes beaded with tears. "No one has come out to tell me anything. I…I'm afraid."
The two women hugged, and Winry held her friend and sister tightly. "If they sent Ethan in to him, then he's still alive," she pointed out. "That means there's hope. They wouldn't waste an alchemist if they didn't think they could still save him."
Elicia shook her head, and did not look convinced. "Not even for a national hero?"
Winry did not have an answer for that. Alphonse was that, no matter how old. He was also Ethan's uncle. He could have demanded to see him first and no one would have stopped him. "Amalea told me the hospital told him to see Al first. So, it wasn't his choice, and while it means he needs him, it also means there's a chance. Have faith in them both, Elicia. Al won't let go without a fight, and you know Ethan will do everything he can to save him."
"I'll… try," Elicia promised. "I'll try."
Reichart Elric could not remember a time in his life when he had felt a pain as gut-wrenching and overwhelming as what he had felt for the past several hours. From the moments of stunned shock at the explosion, to the horror and chaos of everyone charging in all directions and one of his first thoughts being that he couldn't see any of the teens who had just run off stage. While most people had run away from the spreading fire, he had run towards it, with Deanna right behind him.
There were others, mostly parents of the other teens, but Reichart would never forget the horror of finding his son unconscious on the ground, bleeding from an arm that was torn and mangled from the debris… burned and horrific. Hrafn had been partially conscious then, and it had almost been a mercy when he passed out from the pain, but Reichart had nearly lost his lunch on the spot. Only Deanna's quick thinking had kept him moving as she ripped the edge of a stage curtain right off the wall and wrapped it frantically around their son's arm. Then Reichart had his injured son in his arms, and they were running through the growing chaos.
It had all become a blur, and he had hardly registered when the emergency team had taken Hrafn from his arms and put him in the ambulance. It had taken more time for them to find a ride. The ambulances were packed full of patients… no room for families in the initial rush.
They had arrived over an hour after Hrafn had, and the boy had been in surgery. Then there had been that interminable wait.
Time seemed to have lost meaning, as he sat here now, as he had for hours, beside the unconscious form of his middle-most son. The only reason he wasn't still in clothes soaked with his son's blood was because someone had brought him a spare set of scrubs from the hospital laundry in his size. A kindness, that.
Deanna sat on the edge of the bed itself, on the other side of their sleeping son, holding his left—and only remaining—hand in hers. She stared at her son's face, with eyes red from weeping, though the tears were done now, if only because they had run out.
Reichart had hardly known war. He had never seen horror quite like this, not even on the Aerugean border. He had never feared for his family like this. Even working here, in this hospital, seeing the accidents that could befall people who worked the land, it had never hit him like the terror of being helpless to save his son.
He had never come so close to losing one of their children.
Hrafn's skin was pale, despite a hefty transfusion of blood. The arm that had almost killed him was tucked under the sheets, cleaned and bandaged. Except for the fact that the lines of the sheets fell differently where the arm now stopped just above the elbow—they had tried but had been unable to save the joint—it hardly looked missing.
I froze. Years of training, of assisting here, and in that moment all of it had gone out of his head until Deanna reminded him. His wife, frantic to save one of her babies…
The rest were fine. All of them, safe and waiting outside. A nurse had told him. He didn't have to worry about the rest of his children. They were scared, and worried about their brother, but they were safe. The adult ones were helping where they could.
Hrafn would live. The doctors had assured him of that. They had also made sure to state that he would be an excellent candidate for auto-mail once he healed up some. Reichart knew that. There wasn't even a question of where he would find a mechanic. There were enough in the family. But somehow… his mind and heart couldn't move that far into the future. Right here, right now, his son lay there, unaware that his arm was gone; unaware that four of his best friends were in the other beds in the same room, separated only by curtains. The hospital had never before been this crowded.
Unaware that one of his friends had died with the blast.
Reichart wondered if he would ever hear them practicing in the shed behind the house again. Would they want to play together again? Would Hrafn ever be able to play properly with auto-mail?
Would he want auto-mail? It was possible he might not, though Reichart had trouble imagining someone choosing not to. Still, he had met people who made that choice. Could he live with it if Hrafn chose not to?
It wasn't fair. But then, none of it was fair. No one should have died today. The Harvest Festival should have gone on into the evening, followed by the haunted trail and the party the teens threw for everyone at the end of it. Not this… it was senseless and hateful. He couldn't imagine it hadn't been the same people who had tried to kill Grandpa and Alphonse a few months ago. The same ones, so the news said, that had blown up two diplomatic trains. The same group that had tried to assassinate General Anastas when he was President of the Military.
For the first time in his life, Reichart thought he understood hate, and it was too overwhelming for his brain to make sense of it all. Hate and horror, death and destruction. The wanton disregard for life… He had never been a heavy drinker, but right now it seemed awfully tempting.
He wasn't prepared for the knock on the door. None of the medical staff knocked. He looked up, as did the other parents in the room, sitting with their unconscious children.
A female State Alchemist entered, taking in the whole room and making eye contact with each parent in turn. "My name is Amalea Finn-Wilkes, the Live Wire Alchemist. I'm an alkahestry specialist. President Closson sent us by plane to help treat the wounded. If I have your permission, I would like to help your children with their recovery as much as I'm able."
The statement was met with a moment of silence, and then immediate murmurs of assent, and expressions of hope. Hrafn wasn't the only one who had taken severe injuries, even if he was the only one who had lost a limb. The fact that any of the teens had survived was a miracle.
Reichart nodded along with the others. "Of course," he managed to get out. They couldn't give his son his arm back, but anything that could ease his suffering would be welcome.
The Live Wire Alchemist started at the other end of the room, working her way slowly around. She spent several minutes with each patient, and spoke soothingly to the parents about what she had sensed, and what she had healed. She had a calming presence, and Reichart could see why they had sent her.
Deanna watched intently as the other woman treated their son, when it finally came around to Hrafn's turn. Reichart did as well, though he knew they wouldn't really see anything. Still, he hoped it wasn't his imagination that his son looked a little less pale when she finished. "They did a good job with the surgery," Live Wire complimented when she was done. "It's a very clean job. I've given him a few days of what healing would have done naturally, but I've also temporarily lessened the nerves in the stump, so they won't hurt as much. If he gets auto-mail, any alkahestrist can fully reactivate the nerves, but leaving them raw right now will only hinder his progress. There's no reason for him to suffer more."
"That's… amazing. Where did you learn that?" Reichart couldn't help asking.
"Thank you," Deanna said almost on top of him.
Live Wire smiled. "From your uncle, actually."
She had to mean Uncle Ethan. That would make sense. "I'll have to thank him someday."
"You could probably do so in the next day or so. He's here too. In the surgical ward."
Reichart felt like he shouldn't be surprised. After today, he might have believed anything he was told. "You said the President sent you."
Live Wire nodded as she stood, and stepped out of the way. "Alkahestrists, supplies, and additional security, as well as an investigations team, though they can't do much in the dark. I got my orders through the State Alchemist's office, but it was very clear that it was Shock's doing. No one else could have ordered this kind of mobilization without days of paperwork."
Someone else he owed thanks. "Well, I'll have to thank him someday too. Unless you're going to tell me that he came as well."
Live Wire shook her head. "No. Though I have no doubt he wanted to. He sent us because we can be the most help."
"Well, you have been that," Deanna spoke up again. "But we shouldn't keep you from helping other patients. Thank you, Live Wire Alchemist."
"You're welcome, and please, just call me Amalea."
When she was gone, Reichart noticed that some of the tension had gone out of the room. None of the teens were awake, and none were perfectly healed, but somehow Amalea had managed to soothe away some of the fear and tension as much as she had worked to heal the children.
Ethan Elric had lost a few patients in his time. Very few, but it happened to every physician, no matter how good they were, and no matter how hard they tried.
But he would willingly and deservedly go straight to whatever kind of hell might exist if he failed to save this one.
Ethan had no idea how his uncle had managed to hold on through the several hours of surgery he had lasted until Ethan's arrival. The only reason Alphonse hadn't been dead in minutes was because of Edward's exhaustive blast of hurried—but effective—alchemy. He had stopped the bleeding, but it hadn't repaired any of the organs the bullet had pierced, save for temporary stop gaps.
Two surgeons, working for hours, had done everything they could to put Alphonse's insides back together without him flatlining… and apparently only the temporary assistance of one of the two—thoroughly exhausted—alkahestrists on staff had kept him from it several times.
But they didn't have Ethan's experience, his training, his power, or his sheer stubborn determination not to lose another family member.
Even so, it was almost another hour of the surgeons working frantically, and Ethan healing every spot that tried to come open, every tear, every tiny nearly indetectable incidence of internal bleeding. More than anything else, Ethan dumped energy into his uncle to keep him going so the surgery itself didn't kill them. It came in behind as surgeons finished, to force the tissue to regenerate faster, to push each organ through past the danger of failure, of infection, of coming open again. It was a complicated dance that went on and on…
Until it stopped.
Dripping with sweat that he wiped with a fresh, disinfected cloth, Ethan's open eyes focused on the outward exterior of his uncle instead of the organs and inner workings he had visualized as his alchemy gave him all the detailed information he needed. They were finishing stitching up the exterior hole that had been in his uncle's side. It might leave a scar, but somehow, he didn't think his uncle would mind too much. The monitors hooked up to his body showed a steady heartrate. Ethan felt his muscles start quivering ever so slightly. In a few minutes, he wasn't going to be able to stand.
With all of them dressed for surgery and masked, Ethan had no idea what either of the surgeons looked like, but the strain behind their eyes was gone for the first time since Ethan had entered the room.
"I didn't think he was going to make it," the senior surgeon commented, her voice showing the strain of hours of work. She turned to Ethan and held out her gloved hand. "I can't thank you enough."
"I should be the one thanking you," Ethan replied, shaking her hand. "You both kept him alive." When Ethan had arrived and been told who his first patient would be, he had been terrified he would reach the surgery to find a corpse. His uncle almost had been. Now, well, he was still not in good shape, but he ought to survive. Ethan would do whatever it took to keep him that way.
He didn't leave his uncle's side until they had wheeled Alphonse out of the surgical bay and down the hall into a recovery room. Then, and only then, did he go looking for Aunt Elicia.
Elicia and his mother were still in the waiting room, and it was obvious that neither of them had slept. Elicia leapt to her feet as Ethan approached, a look of terror of her face.
Ethan realized that, in his exhaustion, his expression was probably not reassuring. As he reached them, he managed a small smile. "Uncle Al made it. He's in a recovery room now."
Tears slid from his aunt's big green eyes, and she hugged him tightly. "Oh Ethan… thank you… thank you."
"Thank the surgeons. I honestly don't know how they kept him going that long. He's weak, and he's going to be a long time recovering, but for now… he's out of danger. It was… I can't remember the last time I saw that much of a mess made of…" he trailed off as he realized that both his aunt and his mother were looking at him with sick expressions. "Sorry. I'm not thinking straight at this point. I shouldn't have, but I put everything I had into him."
"Go find yourself a spare corner and rest," his mother demanded, though she hugged him too. "You're a hero, as usual. I love you. If you're going to help anyone else, you need to recharge."
"I could eat a full side of beef…raw," Ethan admitted. Now that he wasn't transmuting, and the immediate danger was past, he could feel his stomach trying to devour itself. He hadn't eaten since the dinner that had been interrupted by the emergency call for alkahestrists to fly to Resembool. He hadn't even seen the festival grounds, except that they had still been burning down when they flew in to land. That eerie fire told him all he needed to know. "Too bad all the fair food's gone."
"You'll have to settle for anything left in the cafeteria," his mother nodded. "If there isn't anything, I'll find you something."
"If they'll let you out of the building." They might not, Ethan realized. Not immediately. "Our team came with security and investigations men. Until they're certain it's safe, they won't want anyone to leave. At this point, I'd imagine that, at the very least, they won't let any of the family leave without military security or a police escort. They could still be planning something else."
"Do you really think so?" Elicia's eyes had gone wide again.
Shit… he really was running his mouth tonight. Of course, he hadn't slept since yesterday morning. "Honestly, I don't, but there's no reason to take unnecessary risks. I'm sure we'll hear more in the next few hours. As soon as the sun's up you can bet the investigations team will be all over the wreckage. There are additional alchemists with them as well, to help identify the materials used and then make sure everything's neutralized."
"Urey and Yurian were working on that."
"It's a lot of ground for two alchemists to cover." Ethan felt himself wobble a little. "All right. I'm going to go find that snack and pass out for a few minutes." Then, he would be needed for more patients. It was going to be a long couple of days.
Dawn found Aldon standing at the festival grounds, looking out over the desolate ruin of what had, yesterday, been a beautiful and long-standing Resembool tradition. That fire—the word itself almost didn't seem quite applicable—had devoured with a mind of its own in ways that were unnatural, at least it had seemed so. Aldon knew that it wasn't a supernatural force. Just alchemy… science and knowledge applied in a way that he had always known to be wrong. Destruction and death should never be the goals of discovery, but here they were.
And somehow, he was in charge again. Though oh how he wished he weren't. He hadn't been to bed at all overnight, and now he watched with a tired resignation as soldiers in uniform, mixed in with local law enforcement and several alchemists, poured over what was left. It had taken the State Alchemists—along with Yurian and Urey—most of the night to confirm that the fire itself was out, and to alchemically neutralize and split the agents into component parts, rendering them back down so they wouldn't burst back into flames if it rained again. They had confirmed that there was no danger of that now, which was a relief. Clouds in the distance suggested it would rain again by this afternoon.
The remaining bodies had been pulled from the rubble. It wasn't as difficult as it might have been, seeing as most of the grounds had been open field when the festival wasn't set up. Only the stage, and a couple of smaller buildings, had been permanent structures besides the barns, which had been spared. The portable stalls and goods left small piles of ash, and it was shocking how much of even the metal poles had been melted or mangled by that horrible flame.
The focus of the investigation now was on the remains of the stage, where everything had started. Not that there was much left to search for, or under, but the pattern of damage could tell them something.
Unfortunately, it couldn't tell them who the individuals were who had done this, or how they had gotten away. At least, Aldon assumed they had. Somehow, they had set up the alchemical reaction to go off at a specific time, and they had been here. The fact that Uncle Alphonse, and the two State Alchemists who had been stationed here from Eastern Command, had all been found shot was evidence enough of that. If they had taken a shot at his father, they had missed.
If their goal was to kill the Fullmetal and True Soul alchemists, they had failed too. All of this senseless destruction… when Aldon had been given the updated counts this morning, the number was up to sixty-seven dead, with twenty still in critical condition, and over six hundred injured. There had been nearly four-thousand people in attendance yesterday afternoon. Many of those injured had been treated on site, or gone to the hospital and released, but the building—designed to handle a maximum of about two hundred patients at capacity—was overflowing, with patients crammed in up to four to a room, except for the severest cases, and some of the walking wounded and their families Aldon had seen sitting in chairs in the hallways.
The surgeons and alkahestrists were still working on people. Aldon had been amazed, and relieved, when the response to his call to Central had been several planes worth of assistance arriving within hours. His brother had not been someone Aldon expected to see, but knowing that Ethan was there, took some of the strain off. He and the others had already saved so many who might have died.
Aldon turned his attention from the work in front of his eyes as one of his neighbors approached, carrying a foam cup and what looked like a fruit stuffed pastry from the pastry shop in town. "Breakfast?" she offered. "Bakery opened early, and they've been feeding everyone working at no charge. I'm just helping deliver."
He was about to object. He'd eaten plenty. Or at least… that had been yesterday. It seemed like an eternity since he and Urey had finished judging food and he'd sat down to watch his grandson perform, his stomach uncomfortably full. Now, it was empty…and growling. How long had it been? At least fourteen hours, he realized. "Thanks, Pam." Aldon took the coffee and the pastry. "Make sure they know to keep a tab on everything they sell. If the military doesn't cover the expense, I'll bully them into it myself." He appreciated their generosity, but they couldn't afford to lose out on that much income. He knew that.
Pam smiled tiredly. "I'll tell them. Thank you."
"What are you thanking me for?"
"Taking charge. We all know you didn't have to, but the town trusts you. When they found Cragen dead, you just stepped right in and knew what to do. It calms people. If the panic had been worse, even more people might have died."
All true, and while any of the previous mayors, or other strong personalities in the city, could have stepped in, they had instinctively looked to him. People had just stared asking questions, and he'd started answering. It wasn't as if he'd looked for the moment, but then…they knew that about him too. "You're welcome," he replied. It was the only right thing to say.
"Mr. Elric?"
Wasn't he popular today? Aldon turned from Pam as one of the State Alchemists—a young man who couldn't be older than Rhiana, with a very recognizable handsome face and blond hair—joined them. "Can I help you, Major?"
"Armstrong, Sir. Flex Alchemist at your service."
Aldon had been correct. The boy wasn't quite as massive as his great-grandfather—and he had more hair—but he had the notable features and natural charisma of an Armstrong. The voice was not quite as deep, and he didn't seem to feel the need to shout everything he said, though that might change more with maturity. "What can I do for you?"
"It's more what I can do for you, sir?" Armstrong nodded formally. "I am here to report that the security team has determined that whoever was responsible, they are no longer in Resembool or the immediate area. Except for the families of the injured, all of the festival guests from out of town have been sent home, and our team, along with residents, have searched the area. Also, this was found in the rubble." In his gloved hand, he held out a melted lump of metal that only vaguely now resembled a pistol. "Using alchemy, I was able to determine it's make and model, and it matches the analysis of the weapon that shot True Soul, Gravel, and Pitch."
They had that much at least. "I don't suppose the shooter is among the dead?"
"We can't know, but it seems unlikely." Armstrong tucked the weapon back away in his coat. "It wasn't found near a body, though it will be going back to headquarters for additional analysis. Still, we feel it's safe for most of the citizens to return to their homes."
"Most?"
"Given the previous incident, the wives of Fullmetal and True Soul are advised not to leave the hospital. Security is tightest there. While we are not anticipating any further immediate threats, it would be best to be safe."
On that, Aldon could agree, though he didn't think his mother or Elicia would like it very much. Not that they would want to leave for long while his father and Alphonse were in the hospital. Aldon didn't even know how they were doing, besides alive. He hadn't talked to anyone in the family in hours.
Apparently, his thoughts were reflected in his expression. That or this young Armstrong was very insightful. "We have things under control here, Mr. Elric. If I may say so, you should be with your family. Why don't you go give them the news?"
"I will. Thank you, Major."
Not that it was possible to get anywhere quickly today. There were no available vehicles for an extra ride. The fields that had been filled with hundreds of vehicles yesterday were mostly empty. Most people who had come into town who were still here had family in the hospital, and those cars were crammed in around the hospital, which had its own parking well overflowed. Slowly, those injured who could be transferred back to smaller hospitals or clinics in their home towns were being transported out, but it took time.
Aldon resigned himself to walk. He had crossed the distance of roughly a mile more than once already that night. In fact, he had lost count of how many times he had trudged back and forth. His legs and back, however, seemed inclined to recall every step at this point. The coffee and pastry could revive him a little, but they did nothing for the aches that reminded him he was long past the age where hiking through the countryside was fun.
Retirement. He and Cassie had been discussing her retirement from the hospital, and the opportunity for them to relax and enjoy themselves. Maybe do some traveling beyond trips to see their sons and families. They had rarely gone on anything that resembled a real vacation; just the two of them to some romantic, exotic location.
When would the world be safe enough for that? When would there be time? It would take Resembool time to recover from this, for their family to recover. The dangers had not lessened, only grown.
Bleak thoughts trailed him through what would otherwise have been a beautiful morning, back to the hospital, where he found that the general news had arrived ahead of him. A lot of the community had already gone home, and anyone well enough to be cared for in their homes was being released. The hospital rooms were still crowded, but there was a little more room in the hallways.
Aldon did not expect to see his family immediately. Even if he had wanted to, he was stopped every few steps by a neighbor, or a friend, someone asking for information, someone who needed reassurance. It took him far longer than he wanted to make it up to the second floor, especially since he was stopped at three different points by the soldiers that had been sent from Central. While he appreciated the protection, it was an irritating delay. None of them were old friends of the family, and that meant they didn't recognize him on sight.
By chance, the first family member he spotted was Ethan, coming out of a patient room. His brother looked exhausted, and Aldon could only imagine how much energy Ethan had expended tonight in saving lives.
Ethan spotted him and turned in his direction, though he wasn't moving quickly. "Please tell me you don't need me," were the first words out of his brother's mouth.
"Not for anything requiring your medical expertise," Aldon promised. "You look like something the dogs dragged in out of the rain."
"That's the most complimentary description I've had of myself in this state. Lia's are actually more colorful in private." Ethan smirked before continuing. He knew what Aldon was going to ask, of course. "Mom is in Dad's room. I finally made it down to him a little while ago. He had some microfractures from being thrown in the explosions, and a few cuts, but mostly he's just exhausted his reserves from trying to keep Uncle Al alive. If he hadn't…. well, it's a good thing he's improved over the years. I haven't seen insides that much of a mess since the War." Ethan shuddered slightly. Aldon didn't have to ask which war. The only one Amestrians pronounced where you could almost hear the capital W was when Drachma had invaded more than thirty years ago.
"But he survived?" Aldon had been told Alphonse had made it out of surgery alive. Whether he stayed that way though, no one had been able to tell him.
Ethan nodded. "I got to him in time, but it was touch and go. I don't know how long he'll be in the hospital, or if he'll ever fully recover from this. Not at his age." It was not an optimistic response, but Aldon hadn't been expecting one.
"How's Hrafn?" Aldon asked about his grandson.
"Live Wire did a healing session with all of the teens from the stage incident earlier. Hrafn's still unconscious, but he's in as good a condition as we could hope, considering. Reichart and Deanna haven't left him alone yet. I've seen them come out individually maybe once, and that's mostly because of the rest of the kids. Rhiana and the rest just left, when news came it was safe for folks to go home." There was a note of caution in his tone. "The State Alchemists got updated orders from Central. I've got new information I need to talk about with Mom. You should probably come to."
"Sure." It would be the fastest way to find out anything.
Seeing his father looking frail and unconscious never got easier, and Aldon couldn't help but feel concern when they found his mother, and Edward was sleeping. Winry slipped out quietly to join them in the hall, and Ethan led them back to one of the waiting areas. This one smaller, and currently not in use.
"So, what's this news?" Winry asked as they sat down in a corner.
"President Closson wants us to bring all four of you back to Central."
Aldon watched his mother as she blinked. That had clearly not been expected.
"What for? We've only been home a few weeks."
"Security, as much as anything. That, and you know Dad and Uncle Al will get better medical care in Central. This hospital is horribly overcrowded, and we'd be removing two critical patients. Possibly three, if I can talk Reichart and Deanna into letting us take Hrafn. He'll heal faster if he can get regular alchemical treatments."
Winry looked thoughtful. "Tore thinks we'll be attacked again."
"I don't know what he thinks, but it'll be much easier to protect you all in Central. That, and if you're not here, they will probably leave Resembool alone."
Aldon nodded. "He's probably right." He hated to say it, but it made sense with the information they had. It would protect the family, and the town. "You should go, Mom."
"You can even bring the pets if Dad or Uncle Al want to argue that," Ethan added intently. "Lia and I wouldn't mind. Though Elicia might prefer to stay with Alyse and Cal. They'll be heading home from North City in the next couple of days."
"If not, we'll keep taking care of them, and the house, which we'll do anyway," Aldon promised. They would find the time in there with everything else.
His mother looked conflicted, but she didn't argue. "Let me be the one to talk to Elicia. How fast are you leaving?"
"I'm not sure yet, but not more than a couple of days. The security around the planes is tight too, and the military can't afford to have too many soldiers and craft tied up for long in any one place right now. Not with things as they are. The aircraft that were carrying only cargo will head back first. Possibly as early as today. I don't want to move Uncle Al until I'm sure he's stable enough for the trip, but we may not have the luxury of waiting that long. Still, it's only a couple of hours of flight, compared to days on a train. It will be much easier on him than the alternatives, and he'd have me, at the very least, there in case of an emergency."
"I'll get us packed, if they'll let me leave here and go home long enough to get anything," Winry promised, though she frowned as she said it.
"I'm sure they military can spare one of those security officers since you're leaving on the President's orders," Aldon cut in. "Someone in the family will be able to help you pack as well." He'd ask a couple of the older grandchildren. They could spare time to assist. "I'd do it myself but…"
"Resembool needs you right now," his mother finished the statement with a sad, understanding smile. "Take care of everyone."
As if he could do any less. "I've got things here," he promised. He turned his attention to his younger brother. "Just promise me you'll get them back to Central safely."
"Do you really need to ask me that?" Ethan looked mildly offended.
"Sorry. I'm just… it's a lot."
"I know." His brother sighed. "You know I'll do everything I can, Don."
"You both will, because that's what you do," their mother cut in. She put a hand on each of their shoulders, then pulled them against her into a fierce hug. "I trust you both, and I love you."
Aldon's throat tightened. "I love you too, Mom," he said at the exact same moment as his brother. If there was one thing he would never outgrow, it was the power of his mother's hugs.
Urey left Yurian with Owen and Rhiana at the Hill House, helping his grandmother pack everything for not only herself, but Grandpa, Elicia, and Alphonse, as well as everything the pets would need to travel. It was bizarre to think of them going back to Central, for who knew how long, but he understood the need for haste. They would be better protected in Central, and the distance would, hopefully, keep the enemy from targeting Resembool again.
Two young State Alchemists were with them as security, and Urey trusted that they would be safe. He took Grandpa's car then, to make it easier to get around, and planned to come back for them in a couple of hours.
There was a lot to do, and not much time. Exhausted as he was, the cat naps he'd caught overnight and that morning would have to be enough. Raina had assured him over the phone that she, Brynne, and Ewan would be fine. Danielle was still with her, and Pierce and Dessa had come over from their house to spend time with their friend. It was a good distraction for all of them. Deanna was still at the hospital with Hrafn, and Cailean and Lochlan had apparently insisted on being part of the clean-up crew at the festival grounds, helping return all the animals from the show barns to their owners and helping people get them home, then doing the messy job of cleaning up afterwards. Several of the animals belonged to Deanna's family farm, so the boys were walking several cows and a couple of horses back two at a time.
Which left only one person unaccounted for: Reichart. Urey started with the house, but was not surprised to find his brother not at home. His mother had said he had left the hospital that morning though, so where was he?
Urey knew where he might be in that situation, though it made his stomach sink. His own heart ached for his injured nephew, but also for his brother, who had almost lost a son yesterday. They all could have lost more, but that didn't make the trauma done to Hrafn any less horrible.
Urey parked on the main stretch of town, and headed for the brothers' favorite pub. He had a feeling a lot of the folks of Resembool were probably drinking early today, and he wasn't surprised to find a lot of bruised, bandaged, and desolate faces sitting around the room. It was probably like that in every restaurant and bar in town. They had opened their doors early, most of them. Tomorrow, they would be out there shoveling refuse and making plans to rebuild. That was how Resembool was, but today they would mourn.
Reichart was tucked away at a small table in the back corner, his expression bleak. It was obvious that his brother hadn't slept at all. While Urey knew Hrafn was alive, the look on his brother's face spoke of heartbreak anyway. What had happened?
Urey dropped down into the other chair across from his brother. Almost immediately a server appeared and asked what he wanted. Urey asked for a cola. He was going to have to drive a lot of people around today. The drink came, and while Reichart didn't tell him to leave, he didn't seem to acknowledge Urey's presence either.
Finally, Urey sighed. "Art, what happened?"
Reichart looked up at him with a baleful expression. "Hrafn woke up this morning. He… didn't take the news well about his arm, or… the fact that Kevin died. Telling him… it was the hardest thing I've ever done. The look on his face…" He looked back down into his drink, then picked it up and drained half the glass of what Urey was fairly certain was beer.
Urey wished he were better with words in times like these. He might know better what to say to soothe his brother's pain. Still, he was the one who was here, and there was just something off to him. Reichart had always been the most stable of his brothers; the one who took things as they came and seemed nearly unflappable. He had medical training as a nurse. He worked shifts at the hospital. "What did he say to you?"
Reichart set his glass back down on the table. "He's angry, not that I can blame him, and hurting. He lost one of his best friends, and almost the others. None of them took the news well, of course, but no one else lost a limb too. He's trying to process it all, and it's a lot… but he got mad at me for telling him. Mad at the whole situation. He got a full head of Grandpa level shouting going until a nurse came in and insisted on giving him a mild sedative. His shouting was scaring patients down the hall. Then… then he said he wanted to be alone for a while, and refused to talk to me."
"And Deanna?"
"She's still there. She refused to leave the room, but she also wasn't the one talking so… I know… he doesn't blame me."
"But you do." The words came out without thinking, but Urey realized at once that they were true. "Damn it, Art, how the hell could you even think that?"
"Because when we first got to the kids…during the explosion… I just… froze. Years of experience working with medical patients, and staring at my son's mangled body all I could do was stand there. Deanna's the one who tied off his wound. I carried him, but damn it… even if those seconds couldn't have saved his arm, we didn't have enough people, enough time… to do better. But I still keep wondering if we could have? Or if someone had shouted about the smoke sooner, if they'd have gotten farther away? We were all right there. No one caught anyone sneaking around where they shouldn't be. No one knew… so many dead, and I'm not even at work. I can't. I can't focus enough on anything except what happened. I'd be useless with a patient."
Urey grimaced. "Art… no one expects you to be in a frame of mind to work. You're in shock. Your son almost died, and he's suffered a lifechanging trauma. The whole town is traumatized, but only some of us have suffered loss, and some of us damage. You don't have to hold it together. Deanna doesn't expect you to. Your kids don't expect you to. They're as worried about their brother as you are. Hrafn wasn't a standard patient for you, and that wasn't a normal situation. He's your son, and that's all it takes to make a difference."
Reichart nodded. "My head knows you're right, Rey. Honestly. But I'm just… I've never felt like this before, and I wish there was more I could do to help him."
"There will be, but he needs time to process, like the rest of us," Urey replied, doing his best to keep his tone calm. "He won't stay angry. He'll mourn. He'll have bad days, and then he'll heal. He knows you love him, and that's what will matter in the end. It's a hard road, but he's stubborn and resilient." Though the idea that Hrafn had given in to a full bout of Elric temper—seeing as he usually had almost none at all—was telling. Under other circumstances it might have been amusing. Grandpa Ed's temper was legendary. "I don't suppose you had a chance to ask him his feelings on auto-mail?"
"I didn't. But we have to have that conversation soon." Reichart drank again. "And another. Uncle Ethan wants to take Hrafn with him back to Central when they go, so he can give him more treatments, and help ease his recovery. And…to protect him."
Urey hadn't expected that. "Do you want to send him?"
"I think it has to be at least partially his decision," Reichart answered. "He's sixteen. He's not much of a boy anymore in a lot of ways. That, as much as auto-mail, has to be his choice. But… I don't know if he'd be better here, or if the distance for a few weeks, or months, would help. I don't want him out of reach… but it might be for the best."
"Then you should get back there and ask him." There wasn't a lot of time to have that conversation, or for Hrafn to make that decision, if he was going to have the opportunity. "He needs to know, and if you don't tell him, someone else will. Would you rather he hears this from you, or from Uncle Ethan?"
Reichart grimaced. "You don't pull punches, do you?"
"Well, it never worked on me, did it?" Urey pointed out. "As much as I'd like to join you right now, neither one of us has the luxury of time. I've got Grandpa's car. Let me drive you back to the hospital."
"Like this?"
"I'm pretty sure you don't have time to wait for it to get out of your system first so, yes, like this. It's not like Deanna won't understand. Or Hrafn. Don't you think your son who, as you pointed out, is almost a grown man, would understand that his father is upset that his son is hurt?"
Urey watched as his brother finished his beer, then set down the glass and nodded. "Right. Let's go."
Reichart still didn't know what had become of his courage, but he found himself standing outside his son's hospital room much sooner than expected, and well before he was ready. Everything Urey had said was right, and what he needed to hear, even if it hadn't been what he wanted. Not that he knew what he wanted, other than for his son to be all right. A couple of hours ago, that son had shouted that he didn't want to talk to him.
As he stood there, contemplating how to approach even going in, the door opened, and Deanna came out. She stopped, startled at seeing him in the hallway. "There you are."
He had no idea if she was happy to see him or not. "Yeah. Urey drove me back."
Deanna closed the distance between them, absently straightening the collar of his shirt as she stepped in close. It was a sign of her unease. Normally she didn't mess with his clothes. Then she met his eyes. "You didn't think to wait for me?" she asked, quietly. "That maybe I would have wanted to join you?"
For a moment, words escaped him. It had honestly not occurred to him that Deanna might have wanted that. "I'm sorry." It was all he could think of to say.
Deanna sighed. "I'm glad Urey found you. Uncle Ethan was here. He… made an offer to Hrafn."
Shit, he was too late. Some father he was today. "Did Hrafn answer him?"
Deanna stared at him again. "You knew?"
"Urey told me. That's why I came back. To… tell him about it. But I'm too late."
"Well, he said he'd have to think about it. Ethan left a few minutes ago." Deanna fidgeted with his collar again before letting go. "What do you think?
That I did not drink enough for this conversation. Though I'm not sure that's physically possible. Reichart reached out and put his hands on her arms, to steady them both. "I think whatever decision he makes we should accept. He needs to do what's best for himself right now, and if he needs distance from this, I don't want to stop him. He'd be safe in Central. He could stay with Coran and Gale. They've got room, and if there's anyone that I'd trust to make Hrafn a great arm besides Granny, it's them… assuming he even wants it." That was still a decision left unmade as well. "Will he talk to me?"
"He's calmer now. Though I think most of that is the sedative they gave him. It's pretty powerful stuff."
Well, that was something. Reichart had expected an unhappy reaction earlier. He had not been prepared for what had been very out of character behavior. Not that any of his children seemed to have inherited his grandfather's temperament. Something Reichart had always appreciated. But then, he had always taken more after his own mother, and the children reminded him more of her side of the family, and of Deanna's family, when it came to that. Not that they weren't as rowdy as he and his brothers had been, but they argued a little less, and had a little more in common. At least so far, no one had punched anyone else in the face.
"I want to see him." It had been a couple of hours. Hopefully Hrafn had changed his mind.
"So go see him." Deanna stepped out of his way. "I was on my way to call Raina and check in with her about how Dessa and Pierce are doing, and then Mom and Dad to check on Lochlan and Cailean, unless you've seen them recently."
Reichart shook his head. "Urey said Rhiana and Owen are helping Granny pack." While they didn't all live at home anymore, that didn't keep him from needing to know where all of his children were right now. Suddenly, not knowing was all the more frightening. He had never worried, beyond what was reasonable, about his children's safety in a town like Resembool. He wondered if he would ever be able to not worry about them again.
"Good. I'm sure she could use the help. Go on." Deanna kissed him briefly on the cheek. "And you'd better sober up, because one of us has to be, and you owe me a drink." Given how little his wife drank at all, it was a testament to just how hard she was holding it together.
"Yes, love." Reichart returned the kiss, then went to the door, and entered the room.
He was surprised to find it less occupied than it had been earlier. Which was to say, somehow with all the chaos, Hrafn now had the room to himself. Not that it felt much more spacious. Apparently enough people had left that the other teens had been moved to another room. Or so he presumed. None of them had been well enough to be released so soon.
Hrafn lay on his back in bed, partially propped up by pillows. His eyes were open, but he definitely looked almost as drugged as Reichart felt. For a minute, they just looked at each other.
Hrafn spoke first. "Dad… I'm sorry about earlier."
"You were already forgiven," Reichart promised him. "You have every right to be upset."
"No one else yelled." Hrafn shook his head very slightly, as if the movement pained him. "I still can't… entirely wrap my head around what happened. It's fuzzy. All I remember is pain, and screaming. I can't… I know Kevin's gone but I'm just… I'm not ready to deal with that." He swallowed. "My arm… Uncle Ethan said the nerves are dulled right now, but they're still working, and that they should connect well if I want auto-mail. That they can turn them back on for the surgery. That… that it's not as painful as it used to be."
"Do you want it?" Reichart asked. "It's your decision."
Hrafn nodded slowly. "Yeah. I might still not be able to play right again, but I can't imagine going the rest of my life with just one hand… missing half an arm. I mean… Great-grandpa's missing an arm and a leg, and he did amazing things. I figure I can at least give it a shot."
That was the reasonable son Reichart was used to. He was grateful in that moment for the example his grandfather had set. "I've seen musicians play with auto-mail. I'm sure you'll figure it out."
Hrafn seemed to know what he was going to ask next. Of course, it was the local question. "Uncle Ethan thinks I should go to Central for a while. I… think I want to go. It feels like I'm abandoning my friends but… I just need some time. And after earlier… I think we might all need time."
The others had not reacted well to Hrafn's losing it. Reichart suspected their parents had probably pressed the hospital about finding other rooms. "Did he say how long?"
"Just a few weeks, though he said I would be welcome longer. He could make sure the auto-mail surgery goes well, and that there's no complications or rejection before I come home. With Granny going to Central too… it's not like there'd be an expert here to help with rehabilitation."
It was a good point. Reichart nodded. "Like I said, I support your decision. I'll miss you, but if you think that's what you need to do, then you should do it."
Some bit of tension went out of Hrafn, and Reichart realized his son had been afraid his father would object, or be hurt by that decision. "Thanks, Dad. I'm going to do it."
"I'll call Coran, if you want." If he was going to stay anywhere, Reichart would prefer it be with one of his brothers, and both Ian and Ted had their hands full.
"Please." Hrafn's eyes closed, and after a few seconds Reichart realized his son had slipped into unconsciousness. Sleep… just sleep. He still had several monitors hooked up to his body, and the vital signs were reassuringly consistent and normal.
Reichart left him to sleep. He had a call to make.
This was not what she had expected during her parents' visit. The past few days had been nothing but enjoyable, having her mom and dad here with her and Alexei, and Viola, who did everything a baby was supposed to do. Gloria had felt as ready for motherhood as she was going to be, and so far, it had been mostly what she expected. It wasn't the first time in her life she had run on less sleep, or taken care of someone, or spent time around a baby. A crying baby was nothing to panic over. Find the cause, and fix it. There was generally an order to Viola's needs, and those needs were, for now, wonderfully simple.
But now she felt her heart aching as she worried about her grandfather, in critical condition in the hospital in Resembool, and Uncle Edward, and the others in her family. Hrafn… her cousin's son, injured in much the same way her little brother had been when Charlie had lost his hand in Drachma. Only this… this wasn't war. It was an act of terror. So many innocent people dead, many more injured, because someone in Arsenic appeared to have a personal vendetta against the Fullmetal and True Soul Alchemists…. Possibly all State Alchemists. Possibly her family. They still didn't know and she had to admit that terrified her.
The part of her brain dying to be in Resembool right now was conflicted. Gloria wanted to tell herself it was just because she wanted to be there for family, but a strong part of her demanded to know the truth, to report what had happened, to force things out into the open and make it right.
But she couldn't just go charging off now to do that. She needed to take fewer risks in her work. Viola needed her now as well, and Gloria couldn't put her daughter at risk. She just hoped they were safe here.
The call had come from Ethan, who had been flown to Resembool and had helped save grandpa himself. He hadn't sugar-coated it. He had struggled to pull Alphonse back from the brink of death. The fact remained that on top of blowing up a stage and destroying the emotional heart of a town, the enemy had taken the time to stake out and shoot State Alchemists, and former… it was a miracle they hadn't also shot Great-Uncle Edward. Not that he was much better off.
Her mother had cried in her father's arms when they got the news. There had been a lot of hugging and comforting among the lot of them. Eventually, Alexei had taken Viola into her room for a post-feeding change, and to walk her to sleep.
Gloria's mother had gone into the guest room to lie down and rest, after attempting to call Resembool and not being able to reach anyone at home whose number she knew. Not that Gloria was surprised no one was available. They would certainly get updates from someone eventually. The only thing that had been determined was that all of the family elders were being taken back to Central for everyone's safety, and Grandma Elicia would be staying with her parents when they returned to Central in a few days, on their scheduled train.
For the moment, Gloria just needed to keep busy. So given the freedom of her hands, she finished the last of the breakfast dishes before returning to the living room. Her father was still there, alone in the more comfortable recliner. He looked stricken; his expression grim. Whatever his thoughts, they were dark ones.
"I wish I was there too," she commented softly, stepping fully into the room.
He looked up, startled. It was rare that he didn't notice someone coming into a room. Her father had always had that military, alchemist level awareness of what was going on around him. Even if he didn't comment, she could tell when he knew she was there. "After they blew up the train, I wanted to find them, and end this. Even if it meant killing. Even though I wouldn't have the protection of being a member of the military." For a civilian to kill them, in cold blood, even with good reason, it would be murder if it wasn't in personal self-defense. "I should be out there. I hate doing nothing."
"You're not doing nothing," Gloria objected gently. "Mom needs you here, to comfort her, to keep her spirits up. Grandma Elicia will need you when she gets to Central. Just because you're not crushing the enemy under the weight of thousands of gallons of water doesn't mean you're not important to someone."
Her father watched her with a bemused expression for several seconds. "When did you get so wise?"
"I had good examples. I know this is horrible, and it terrifies me, but we just have to keep doing what we can, don't we?"
Her father nodded, and ran one hand through his curls. "I'm trying to hold it together… for your mother." He looked shaky, she realized. Not physically, but there was something about him right now that was more vulnerable than she was used to seeing him.
"How about a cup of tea?" Gloria offered. She waited for a quip that never came.
"Sure," her father replied simply after a moment. "Strong as you can brew it."
"Strong enough to straighten hair," Gloria promised.