October 13th, 1996 (Still)
Ryan Wilkes' first clue that he was not dead was the soft feeling of crisp sheets and the sounds of murmuring voices and slow-beeping equipment. The second was that breathing no longer hurt. It was a far cry better than his last memory of laying in an alley trying to keep air moving through lungs that stabbed like he was breathing glass.
He became aware of a soft, comforting hand in his, and a sense of energy coming through it. Hello, love. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking heavily until he could focus on Amalea's angelic face. She looked worried, then relieved as he managed a small smile. "Did we win?" he asked, wincing at the raw sound of his voice. While talking didn't hurt, he could only imagine how much alkahestry had gone into repairing him.
Amalea squeezed his hand tighter. "It's over," she assured him. "The Third Laboratory is gone, and the fighting's done. Shock and Proteus took out the leader of the attack."
Of course, they had. Leave it to those two to get the heroic high-profile catch of the day. "Good. Am I… healed?"
"Well, you're going to live, if that's your question." At that, she offered him a tired smile of her own. It was then he realized that she was in full uniform, though with a doctor's coat pulled over it. That had been her alkahestry he'd been feeling, and that meant she'd been healing people, likely all afternoon. "Fortunately, the emergency medics got to you before it was too late. You and Firestorm both made it, and yes, your lungs and respiratory systems have been healed, though you'll need to take it easy for several days. Try not to talk too much or over-exert yourself."
"No worries there. I could sleep for a week," Ryan promised her. Then he squeezed her hand back. "But only if you take your own advice. You look exhausted. Is it safe for you to be working with so much energy… in your condition?"
Amalea stared at him for a moment, then shook her head, and smiled. "You knew?"
"I suspected," he admitted, glad to not be wrong. That would have been horribly embarrassing. "I'm sorry about this morning. That was what you wanted to tell me, wasn't it?"
His wife nodded. "Yes. And yes, I'm fine. In fact, as of five minutes ago I'm off duty. So, the only patient I need to take care of now, is you."
"I have an entire hospital to take care of me," Ryan pointed out, enjoying the momentary thrill of considering the reality that he was going to be a father. But he didn't ask more questions about that. There would be time. "You should be taking care of you."
"I am hydrated, fed, and I caught a nap a little while ago," Amalea assured him. "And you're still the first person who knows…except my doctor."
"I can live with that." Ryan closed his eyes again, and took a few seconds to just… breathe. "You said Firestorm made it. What about… Firebrand?"
"I'm so sorry, Roy." Trisha's voice broke and she dabbed tears away from her eyes with a tissue. "He was gone before the medics could get him into an ambulance."
Laying on his back in a hospital bed, Roy's first questions upon waking had been whether or not Rapid and his father had survived. He was glad to hear that his fellow State Alchemist, like himself, had received necessary healing in time, and should recover fully over the next couple of weeks.
While he had known, somewhere in his heart, that the incredible alchemy he had witnessed was far beyond what his father should even have been able to produce, let alone control, he had hoped—beyond all hope—that there was some chance that Maes Mustang had not sacrificed himself for the greater good, like his father before him.
But his father had gone out in a literal blaze of glory… not burned to a crisp, but so injured and so over-drawn that there hadn't even been time to get him to an alkahestrist. "He was… amazing, Trish. I didn't know… he could do that. It was the …most impressive alchemy…"
"Shhh." Trisha leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Don't talk too much. Your lungs need to rest. I heard that some newscasters caught the explosion on camera. Someone's told them it was your father. He's a hero."
Roy felt like he should feel more…but as exhausted as he was, all he felt at the moment was shock. He knew it would hit harder later. "I know. How's… Mom? Does she know?"
Trisha nodded. "She's downstairs. Rochelle and Mireia are with her. They're… in the morgue. They'll be coming up to see you when they're finished. I assured them that you're going to live, and I called Thea's and let Gabriel and Rosa know we're okay."
There was a moment's pause.
"Are the kids okay?" Roy asked, pressing.
"Yes. They're fine," Trisha assured him. "But it turns out that Tore had security in hiding staking out all of the State Alchemists'—and our family's—homes today, and they caught and apprehended several would-be assassins. None of them actually got into a yard or a house, but it looks like Arsenic had contingencies in place to try and take us out if we were home, or went home."
Which they would have been on a normal Saturday if they hadn't been warned. Roy closed his eyes, the exhaustion temporarily overwhelming. "Rosa?" With all of the damage and emergencies today, he knew his eldest was out working hard.
"Safe last I heard." Trisha's hand resting on his rubbed gently. "Mom saw her on the site at the park where Arsenic blew up part of an office building. Thankfully the offices that went were unoccupied, but Rosa's station was one of the ones called in to handle it."
"I'm sure we'll hear about it later." Roy closed his eyes. Everything about him felt heavy, but he could breathe freely and that was a relief. He had not been convinced he would wake up again right before he'd passed out outside the building. His daughter would also be a hero today, if for entirely different reasons. He could only imagine the mess the city was in tonight.
Tore sat at the head of the table in his personal executive meeting room. It was odd to think of it that way, given how many times he'd sat in here as an officer. Around him sat the Senior Staff, as well as several officers who had brought in information. There was still data coming in as emergency crews and military police, as well as every available soldier, worked to clean up the city and keep things from devolving into chaos. Several blocks around every major location where there had been combat today was cordoned off. Bodies were being removed and identified. All of the injured had been moved to hospitals. So far, the count was two-thousand patients, and several hundred dead, though the dead were on both sides. Between all fronts, nearly four-hundred members of Arsenic had been captured or killed. Questioning would go on for days, but it had already started, and James Heimler had the initial report summaries.
The one place Tore wanted to be, and had not yet been, was the hospital. He did not have personal reports on a lot of people whose lives he was concerned about, though some of them would be in the data at this meeting, which he would finally have time to look at in detail when it was over.
He had frustrated two dozen reporters by refusing to give a statement until this meeting was complete. They had swarmed the zoo, hoping for interviews and information. He had directed them to speak to the zoo security and the other officers who had assisted or been present.
The overall numbers were better than he had feared as Tore sat, listening to each department update from those with relevant information. That high of a body count in Central itself…. It should never have come to this. Still, it could have been worse. Of the six major attack sites, they had known about four in advance, and that had made a huge difference. He was still furious that Vera had almost gotten Cal, Alyse, and Anika.
Vera, who had been treated for basic medical care within what was considered appropriate for a prisoner of war, and then locked away in the most secure prison cell in solitary, designed for alchemists, with the appropriate counter-circles to keep anyone from being able to transmute within it. As much as he would have liked to have finished her off, they needed whatever information she could provide on Arsenic. This engagement might be over, but that didn't mean they had completely won.
Eventually, after the damage reports, and cost-of-repair estimates—if they decided to replace the Third Lab, it was going to be incredibly expensive. In any case they needed to make sure the area was decontaminated and cleaned up for safety purposes.
Then they got to the part of Investigations' report about the other locations that Tore had provided extra security, just to see how far Vera's plans had extended.
"How many would-be assassins were captured at private residences?"
"Fifteen, Sir."
"And how many of them were still current members of the military?"
There was a hard silence. "Eight, Sir. They are all under arrest and awaiting court martial."
"How many other soldiers committed treason by showing their colors today?"
"Three, Sir. They drew on superior offers. All were apprehended without killing their targets."
It was lower than he'd expected, but it still frustrated Tore that they had not yet rooted out everyone from within who posed a danger to the stability of the country. Disagreement was fine. Treason crossed too many lines.
The report had the specific addresses that had been targeted, and each one just made Tore regret that he hadn't ended Vera when he'd had her in front of him. Ted's house, Franz and Sara, his own, Roy and Trisha's house, Brandon and Julia…
Tore had refused any more than the most perfunctory examination by a physician before he had come to this meeting, but he was beginning to regret it. He had expended a lot of energy, and he hadn't stopped to eat afterwards… or drink more than a glass of water. While Vera had not landed a strike on him thanks to his electrical attacks, he had burned through a lot more of his own energy than usual. Mustang was inhuman. Both of them…as it turns out.
Mourning would have to come later. Tore focused on the rest of the meeting. Interesting reports included a last-minute inclusion that several officers at Eastern, Southern, Western, and Northern commands—some he had suspected and others not—had turned themselves in. He doubted it was all of Arsenic given the size of today's attack, but it was still telling. They did not have confidence in their secret organization's ability to continue. Not with all of the housekeeping Tore had done over the past several months.
The voluntary arrests—likely hoping for leniency—also included four members of the Assembly. Two Tore had suspected but hadn't yet been able to peg. The others he would not have suspected. They had pristine records as civil servants. Some of Volkhart's supporters, or at least, those who had agreed to push her through.
The interrogations over the next few weeks were going to be fascinating, but Tore finally found he could hope that they had turned the corner on this situation, and they would be able to cut out the rest of the rot.
Finally, the meeting ended and he was free to return to his office. Not free to do what he really wanted, but it was a start.
Someday he would stop being surprised that his staff actually knew how to take care of him. Caroline Flynn was waiting for him with a recommended draft for his speech that evening for him to look over. He did need to address the press, however briefly. Other officers assigned to the purpose had provided updates all afternoon to the general population, making sure they knew which areas to avoid, that the fighting was over, and that they had won the day.
Tore looked it over right there in the main office, nodding in approval. Anything that didn't make him have to think any harder at this moment was appreciated. He could slip in a few of the specifics he had just received that would reassure the people that the military, and their government, had things under control.
Though it would help if he had a member of the assembly to talk to about that.
Like the one that was sitting at his desk, looking quite comfortable like she belonged there.
Charisa came to her feet as he closed the door, and she was in his arms before he had taken a step. "You brave, crazy… foolish… alchemist." The last was said with a sigh of fond exasperation as she kissed him.
Tore wrapped his arms around her, returning the kiss with all the passion in him, letting out all of the stress and worry of the last few days. Charisa was alive and safe. So was the rest of his family. They had survived the day, and that was one bright spot in a day that would reside in his nightmares for likely years to come. "It's why you love me, isn't it?" he asked, his voice thick with emotion as he refrained from crushing her. "My insane heroics?"
Charisa shook her head. "When I heard you were confronting her directly… my heart almost stopped. I already almost lost you once this year."
"So, no more near-death experiences this year. I think I can manage that."
"When do I get you back for myself?" Charisa asked as she stepped back a little. She motioned to a plate he hadn't noticed on his desk. "Caroline had already ordered you up some dinner when I got here. As much alchemy as you did this afternoon, you'd better eat all of it." The plate was heaped high, Tore noticed, full of fresh hot meat and vegetables, and nearly half a loaf of crusty hot bread slathered in butter. His stomach growled audibly, despite the fact he felt like he had little appetite. At least, his head didn't. His body certainly had other plans.
"I just need to speak to the press, then I want to go over to the hospital." Tore loosened his grip and let her go reluctantly, moving over to his desk and sitting down so he could eat properly. He noticed it wasn't something he could grab-and-go. On purpose, probably.
"Of course." Charisa nodded. "I've been making calls all evening…trying to get information. It's…. well, it could be worse."
Tore already knew from the reports, and his own eyes in one case, that they had lost Maes Mustang, and Clarina Harper, who Ted and Anika had both said died throwing herself in front of Vera's venomous attack, saving the lives of Anika and her baby. Both were heroes he could mentioned tonight, out of many. But there were plenty he didn't know. "Tell me."
It was worse than the end of the Drachman War, Sara thought as she paced in the waiting room outside the surgical ward of the Central Military Hospital. Every alkahestrist and alkahestry trained State Alchemist in Central had been called in on duty tonight, to every hospital in the city, to help handle the sudden influx of serious patients. She wasn't sure which one was in with Franz, but she hoped if it wasn't Ethan or Renxiang, it was someone one of them had trained. She had to trust that there was hope. From the time Franz had disappeared under that collapsing building, her world had come to a pause. She and Ted had managed to find him, and get him out of the debris, but he had been critically injured when the medics had loaded him into the ambulance alongside other critical injured patients. There hadn't been room for her to ride along, and the situation on the ground had still needed her supervision.
Only decades of experience had kept her going, though it was mostly on autopilot until others on the scene had relieved her.
When Franz had insisted on going into the fray as part of the Flame Alchemist's backup in the attack that had proved to be what ended the original Drachman War, there had been that interminable waiting, and then the search, praying Franz had not been consumed by the flames. He had survived then, and she prayed he survived now.
Was this how he had felt when the Hashman Syndicate had attacked the warehouse all those years ago and kidnapped her? Before they found the planted body…. before they thought she was dead.
Had they been reunited after nearly eight years apart only to be separated again less than eight years later?
She had arrived in the hospital to find that Franz had been taken immediately into emergency surgery, and she had heard nothing in the two hours since her arrival, which was more than three hours since she had seen them driving away with her husband in the back.
It felt odd that it was only early evening. It seemed like it should have been many more hours, if not days, since they had been strolling in the park, waiting for an attack that might or might not come.
The weeks since their return from Creta had been good ones. Franz' mood had been much improved by the trip, his usefulness, and the amount of time they had together, and a wider variety of physical activities in which they could both take part. He had been the most content and relaxed that she had seen him since her rescue from Petrayevka several years ago. He looked forward to their morning walks with the dogs, and time they had spent meeting up with friends for a wide variety of activities. They had spent quite a bit of time with Maes and Elena at their country club recently.
Maes… Sara's throat tightened. Trisha had given her the news. Her oldest friend, and still one she counted dear after all this time, was dead. There was no fake body here. No mistaken kidnapping. No missing in action. Maes had pulled off an alchemical miracle, and put his name up there by his father's in one grand final heroic action.
The footage had been shown several times on the news that was running on one of the television monitors in the waiting room. Sara had to admit that the explosion—which had been more of a vaporization, as the explosion had been combined with some incredibly complex transmutation—had not only destroyed the building and everyone in it, but it had rendered all of the harmful ingredients burning inside down to their harmless components. It would have been a disaster if those had leaked into the environment around the building, contaminating air and water and hurting thousands of people.
You did it, Maes. You always wanted to live up to your father's memory. No one will ever forget you… I hope you're happy.
Sara hadn't seen Elena yet, though she knew she needed to find her friend and comfort her. Last she heard she and the girls had stopped by Roy's room.
Her son-in-law would live, thankfully, though that had been a very near miss as well.
So many near misses. So many friends and family injured. She didn't even have news on all of them yet. She could only hope that no one else had been lost today.
But she couldn't go find them until she knew the outcome of this first. Franz had saved her life, but at what cost?
"Sara?"
Turning, she was startled to see her father standing there. He and Alphonse had been expressly forbidden from leaving their private ward area for weeks. "Did they finally let you out for good behavior?" She tried to make the quip a joke, but somehow it fell flat.
"We've been pardoned," her father replied with more of a quip, though he didn't smile either. "Charisa called and said Tore plans to announce our survival in the next couple of days based on the information they've gotten, and some voluntary arrests made today. Looks like several higher-ups in Arsenic turned themselves in over this debacle." At that, he gave a small, grim smile. "We still can't leave the hospital, but we got permission to come check on family, as long as we don't draw attention to ourselves."
"And how do you do that?" Sara couldn't help asking.
"Mostly by just shuffling around like an old man, and not making too many loud comments, or flashing alchemy around." Then her father held out his arms, and Sara fell into them, hugging him tightly as tears leaked from her eyes.
"I'm so scared," she admitted in little more than a whisper. "I haven't heard anything in hours. I'm not ready to lose him."
Her father's hug was warm and comforting. "Franz is tough," he replied reassuringly. "And if there's one thing that he'd never do…it's leave you. He loves you too much to die like this."
"If only it were that easy." Still, it was a nice thing for him to say. After their arguments after the most recent conflicts in Drachma, Sara had worried that their relationship would be strained forever. Especially between her father and Franz, but that hadn't turned out to be the case. One thing her father did not seem to do—anymore at least—was hold a grudge.
"Have you eaten?" her father asked as the hug ended.
"Not yet," Sara admitted. She had come straight to the surgery ward on arrival and hadn't moved since. "I can't leave. If there's news…I need to be here."
"Then I'll get you something. It's at least something I can do to be useful."
Edward Elric, food delivery man. On another day, it might have been amusing. Instead, Sara could only be grateful. "Thank you, Dad. Anything they have downstairs will be fine. And something to drink with a lot of caffeine would be appreciated."
Her father nodded. "I'm sure I can manage that."
There were days Ethan wondered if he would ever not find himself saving the lives of family members. He was grateful for the extensive team he and Ren had trained over the years. While some of those alkahestry trained physicians had moved on to start their own practices, or work in the larger hospitals primarily, that meant that he and Ren were not the only ones in the ever-more-crowded Central Military Hospital.
That still didn't give him more than a few moments to breathe between patients as he went from room to room, where he was needed most, healing and checking as many people as possible. Thankfully, he hadn't been summoned into surgery more than twice.
By the time he made it to the hallway crammed with the injured from the attack on the rugby practice, Ethan was dragging a little. He hadn't heard anything more on Franz other than he was still in surgery, which at least meant he hadn't died on the table. Sara's injuries had been treated on site, considered not life-threatening, and she was now in the waiting room.
He had to push himself not to feel at fault for the loss of Maes Mustang. There was no way anyone could have gotten to him faster than they had, and he had been gone long before he reached the hospital. Still, Ethan would have to mourn later. He always had to mourn later.
Ethan steeled himself as he entered the room at the end of the hall. This wasn't going to be an easy visit either, if for different reasons. He'd been told that Cal Fischer was finally awake, and demanding information.
Cal's eyes lit on Ethan the moment he entered the room. He was lying in bed, though he looked like he would have leapt out of it by now if he'd had the ability. "Finally! Damn it, Ethan. No one tells me anything."
"Well, if you'd stop shouting at people, they might be more inclined to answer," Ethan quipped wryly, though he felt concern at the look in Cal's eyes. There was a strain there bordering on panic. "I'll tell you anything I can that doesn't violate any other patient's privacy, but only if you stop abusing the hospital staff."
Cal looked like he wanted to argue. Instead, he blurted out the question Ethan expected most, "Where's Alyse? The only thing anyone's told me is that she's alive."
Here we go. "Which she is," Ethan nodded. "Alyse is currently in surgery getting a couple of minor wounds stitched up." He spoke quickly to avoid giving Cal an opportunity to cut him off. "She's already been seen by an alkahestrist and most of the damage done was caused by her impact with the ground after the explosion, which included several cracked ribs, and a concussion. She didn't take any shrapnel or burn injuries." Which was why she was only now in surgery. More critical patients had gone first. She had been stable enough that it could wait a little longer.
"So, she'll live."
"I expect her to," Ethan assured him. "Though she hasn't awoken yet." A fact that did not cause him concern yet, given the circumstances, and the fact that they had kept her under on purpose for surgery, to minimize pain. The concussion was severe, but she wasn't in a coma, and her life signs were good. "Now, will you stop trying to break out of your room before you do more damage to yourself?"
"If they'd just bring me a damned chair I wouldn't have to." Cal grumbled, but some of the urgency had left him. "It's not like I insisted on trying to walk out of here."
"Which is good, given your own state." Ethan had seen the report of Cal's own injuries. Given the surprise attack, it was fortunate that Cal's reflexes were as good as ever. If he hadn't returned the attack with alchemy as fast as he had, the rugby field would have been the sight of a slaughter. "You bled out enough you've already had a transfusion. They just got you out of surgery faster." Cal had taken two gunshot wounds, though thankfully both grazing injuries; the one to the arm, the other to the side of the head. Given how much energy he had dumped into combat his biggest concern was more the exhaustion Cal would still be feeling, and the fact that he had torqued his back falling out of his chair trying, or so Ethan assumed, to get to Alyse. He had been unconscious when the medics arrived.
Cal finally quieted for a minute, looking deeply lost in thought. The man closed his eyes, then seemed to give himself a mental shake before opening them again. "And…the team?"
At that, Ethan was glad he could legitimately smile. There were few enough reasons to smile today. "Thanks to you, everyone's still alive, though there are four in the ICU. They're stable for now and looking good. There were several other injuries, but as fast as you counterattacked, you kept them from getting in any more hits, and the team's reactions kept them from making good shots." It was a miracle there weren't more dead. "Though you should know that so far, they've fished nineteen bodies out of the canal downstream, all in the Arsenic black uniforms. I haven't been down to see them but I'm told they're in the morgue. You may have the record for most enemy kills by a single soldier today."
Cal snorted. "That doesn't say much for the military." He sounded rough. "I'm glad though… No one should have to die just because they know me." Another pause. "Shit… when… when can I see Alyse? Where are they taking her… after?"
"After surgery? Given how crowded the hospitals are getting, there's not a lot of private rooms available," Ethan replied, fairly sure Cal would like this answer. "So as soon as she's cleared to return to a regular room, we've arranged to have you both in here." It would also make it easier to keep a security watch on them, if needed. Not that Ethan thought anyone was getting past the army of military police guarding the entrances to the hospital. "Then you won't have to ask how she's doing. You'll be able to see for yourself. That is, as long as you promise to cooperate." He gave Cal a warning look. "She's going to need plenty of quiet for her head to heal properly."
"I get it." Cal sighed, and finally seemed to sag into the bedding. "Shit… hells I'm thirsty."
"I'll have someone bring you some water, or milk or orange juice if you'd prefer," Ethan offered.
Cal's expression blanked for a moment; his mouth half-open before he shut it again. He averted his eyes. "Juice is fine."
That was clearly not what he'd wanted to say. Ethan didn't press. He had a pretty good idea. "Good. It'll help replenish your fluids and blood supply. Now, please, try and rest. Alyse will be out of surgery soon, and then you'll be able to see for yourself that she's going to be all right."
The evening passed in an odd way for Edward. He and Alphonse had spent the entire afternoon in their private room glued to the television news broadcasts and fighting the desperate urge to charge out into the streets and join the fight.
A fight they could not join because they were supposedly dead.
A fight they were too old to take part in.
That last galled Edward, even though he had acknowledged it as truth. What he had witnessed today… they wouldn't have been a liability, but they very likely might not have survived.
The news that they were permitted to leave their hall and see family had been a relief in that it was a sign that Tore felt the major danger was passed, even if things weren't over. The one responsible for the alchemical destruction the past months, on the trains, on Resembool… the one who had been targeting their family was in custody and those loyal to her specifically were dead or behind bars. If any had fled, there weren't many.
Charisa had also told him that Winry and Elicia were on their way to the hospital. Between the four of them, the elder Elrics could take care of the members of their family who were not receiving medical care. They were there to comfort and console.
Free to wander the hospital, it also meant they could spread news between the various clusters of family members scattered throughout different rooms on multiple floors. By late evening, Edward knew that everyone in their family, or close friends, had survived the day except for Maes Mustang.
Word on Franz had come not long after Edward had left Sara to get her food. By the time he returned, Franz was out of surgery and recovering in the ICU. He lived, but his condition was still delicate. Alkahestrists had spent hours along with the surgeons, and had worked miracles on several life-threatening injuries. Cracked bones and bruised organs, cuts and larger wounds. A gunshot wound that no one could be sure when he had received it. Still, as long as he developed no secondary infections—unlikely with alkahestrists available in today's medical facilities—Franz was expected to stabilize and survive.
By the time Edward was able to visit Franz' room, Sara was not the only one there. Trisha and James were both there to see their father, and both still in uniform. Roy must be doing all right, Edward thought, if Trisha could look so calm in her father's room.
James' presence meant finally getting news of real import from Headquarters. Though it was a quiet conversation as Franz was still unconscious, breathing evenly, his vital monitors beeping along with a reassuring steadiness that Edward hoped continued. He cared a lot about his son-in-law, no matter what some people might think. Though seeing him unconscious like this, it was hard to ignore the fact that even Franz was not a young man.
Edward wondered if his daughter shouldn't also be in a bed, but there was no talking Sara away from Franz, for even a moment. Even as they all spoke, she sat next to him, his hand in hers. Her own wounds were bandaged, and mostly healed already with a little alkahestry. Ethan had assured him that Franz would get several more alchemical treatments over the next few days, as soon as there was time. There were over two-thousand new patients in the hospitals, and they were crammed full. It was not unlike the disaster in Resembool, only with far more medical resources available to deal with the influx. That didn't mean the medical staff were not pushed to their limits.
As the evening grew later, Trisha returned to Roy's side, and Thea brought Gabriel and little Sara over to see their father. Rosa was nowhere to be found, but Edward was certain she would be on duty until quite late. Rescue and damage control would go on for days. Edward left Sara with Franz, and went looking for other family members and news.
There had been very few times in his life that Roy had ever felt overwhelmed by his emotions, or even that they might overwhelm him with their strength. Despite the reputation of flame alchemists to be hot headed, Roy had rarely lost control. He had been told that his grandfather, like him, had often been as cold and calculating as he could be passionate. Roy remembered the instinctive terror of being tracked by jaguars in Aerugo. He remembered fighting with Trisha about how fast to move in their relationship, and how much that had tied him up in knots. He remembered the awe and joy that had filled him each time they brought a child into the world. The fury that had made him willing to threaten Hashman.
Roy had felt deep and conflicting emotions about his father when he was a boy; especially when he was too young to understand the emotional trauma his father was going through at the time. All he knew was that, sometimes, his father said things that hurt, even when he didn't mean them, and that he drank too much, and lost his temper. Then he'd tried to commit suicide, and Roy and his sisters had been left with Grandma Riza for a full year, while his parents had gone to Xing.
It had been during that year that Grandma had told him all about his grandfather, his namesake. Stories probably Roy's parents had not considered him ready for, but his grandmother had other opinions. In learning to understand what his grandfather had gone through, and then how that had impacted how he had raised Roy's father… and Maes Mustang's determination to try and match his father, his need to uphold a family name that had a lineage of one generation… Roy had come to understand why his father needed help, and a lot about himself as well.
They had mended that relationship in the years since. Roy had come to love and respect the man his father had become. The man who had fought his way back from the depths of despair, and thrown everything into his family, and supporting his children, and his wife, in all of their aspirations.
The father he had now lost. Whose final moments he had witnessed. His father had finally had his moment of blazing glory.
Forbidden from leaving the hospital, Roy had made Trisha write down his report as he dictated it upon waking again, and he had made her promise to deliver it to General Tringham. Of course, that would only happen when she left the hospital, which she seemed disinclined to do. Roy managed to stay awake when his mother and sisters came to see him. His mother had sobbed as she hugged him, and he felt his heart breaking for her. He didn't tell her not to be so concerned about him. She had just lost her love, and almost her son, in the same day. Roy had never remembered his mother as frail, but she looked like she might break and blow away at any moment.
Then it struck him… he was the eldest man left in the family. The rest of the Mustang legacy rested solidly in his hands. The name would pass from him, to Gabriel, and on… but he could not know how that would end, and his head and body hurt too much to contemplate it further. But it was up to him now, to take care of his mother, and Mireia. Okay so his baby sister was in her twenties, but she was still single, and he felt protective of her. She wasn't that many years older than his own eldest daughter.
The one out there still saving lives and sifting through rubble.
Roy dozed between visits. Gabriel and little Sara were openly relieved to see him alive, and handled the visit with maturity. Gabriel assured him that he would make sure everyone got dinner when they left the hospital. He'd been helping his aunt Thea make beef-and-rice and Aerugean tostones earlier that afternoon.
Finally, for a little while, Trisha left him alone to check on her father. Then, and only then, did Roy break. Not that he cried. Oh… he felt it inside, the overwhelming tides of grief that welled within him, and broke against his heart. He hadn't been able to do enough, fast enough. If not for Maes Mustang, the attack would have failed, and he and Rapid would both likely have died. But his father had sacrificed himself, putting himself out there as a target…
I should have been able to do it… you didn't need to die. I'm sorry, Dad. I'm so…so sorry… There was an odd, strangled noise in his throat.
The soft brush of a hand on his shoulder made him jump. Then he recognized Trisha's touch, and her scent, as she returned, sitting down beside him on the bed, and wrapping her arms very gently around him. "I finally saw the footage on the news," she said softly after a moment. "I saw a replay of what you did. What you both did. It was… incredible. You saved hundreds of lives. If not for that amazing transmutation your father pulled at the last second…" The unthinkable would have happened. Trisha went quiet again before she kissed his cheek. "Your father was a hero… the way he always wanted to be."
Roy nodded, though he could barely speak through the tightening in his throat. "I should have handled it, Trish… it's my fault."
"No," she disagreed at once. "It's not. He set up as the decoy on purpose. He drew them away, and drew their fire. He knew what he was doing. I could see what they were doing… you couldn't have gotten them all on your own. It had nothing to do with raw power. Your father read their pattern of attack, knew the situation, and made the right call."
Someday, that would probably be reassuring, or make him feel better, but in that moment, all Roy felt was a deep, resounding sorrow, and layers of guilt he didn't want to work through. Not that I can let it pull me down. There's too much to do. He didn't have the luxury of guilt, did he? There would still be work to do in the morning, and the next day, and for the rest of his career. Well, once he got out of the hospital. Trisha was right, he was sure. When he saw the news, Roy would probably see that they had done everything right… and his father had still died.
He put out an arm awkwardly, letting it slide around her. Then he turned and grasped her in both arms, squeezing Trisha tight enough she squeaked slightly. He didn't care how awkward the angle was. He needed her. "At least we already got our revenge," he whispered. No one in the path of that flame alchemy had survived. On another day, Roy might have felt bad about torching so many people, but this was not that day… or that enemy. They had tried to destroy everything he worked for. They had tried to kill his family. They had killed his father. They did not deserve mercy.
"Justice, my love," Trisha whispered back.
Wetness on his cheek. Roy looked up, and realized that Trisha was crying quietly, tears making silent tracks down her cheeks. "Justice…revenge… it doesn't matter. It's done." Roy continued to hold her until sleep reclaimed him.
Ted didn't want the warmth of Anika snuggled against him to end. While his wife had been thoroughly examined by doctors and both she and the baby had been declared healthy and unharmed, Ted had no illusions about being released from the hospital yet due to his injuries. They weren't as bad as many, especially not after a good dose of alkahestry, but the doctors wanted to keep an eye on him for at least a couple of days. Not that Ted had argued much. He wouldn't admit it if asked, but he was definitely feeling it after that battle. Emotionally, as much as physically.
Anika had been in danger today. He had almost lost her…almost lost their baby. If she hadn't held Vera off as long as she had with her rifle and cunning, and Clarina hadn't died to save her, tonight could have been much, much worse.
Hell, Vera had almost had him before Shock arrived and saved them all.
Clarina shouldn't have had to die. The fact that she had risked herself to get the information they needed to anticipate this massive attack, that she had attacked Vera to save his wife… regardless of their own past. He, Clarina, and Vera had been friends once… teammates. It had all crashed down around them, and they had never really recovered. Not their friendship.
But had Ted tried? He could say he had reached out to Clarina, but she had made it clear she wanted to move on with life, and that his presence after his stupidity in overlooking her feelings was not wanted. Vera… he had never tried to reach out to Vera. She'd told him she hated him. She'd left the military and moved away, and he had rarely given her much thought once he'd been assigned to a new team. He had buried his guilt at Larry's death, and moved on.
Ted had Anika and their children; respect, and his career. Now Larry and Clarina were both dead, and Vera was an insane homunculus locked in prison for treason against Amestris. Despite having been beaten down by himself and Shock, she was still incredibly dangerous. Was there even an option for her besides execution?
It wasn't fair. Not that life was ever fair, but where was the equivalency? There should be a balance, at least, but he could see none in this mess, except perhaps that Vera would get the punishment her actions dictated.
He sighed.
Anika looked up at him. :Are you in pain?:
:More my head than my body,: Ted admitted softly. :Though that still hurts,: he admitted with a tired half-smile that lasted only a moment. :I can't help but wonder if there was something I could have done, or said, years ago, to keep Vera from going down this path. It might not have stopped Arsenic from forming, but they wouldn't have had her alchemical weapons, and she might not have lost everything.: He shook his head. :Not that what ifs will get me anywhere, but I feel like I was a lousy friend, and I regret that.:
:It seems like most of you were not very good friends,: Anika replied. It wasn't reassuring, but he had always appreciated her honesty. :People can be foolish. Learn from the mistake, and never do it again. That's all you can do.:
:Am I still that person, though?: He didn't want to be. Ted liked to think he had matured a lot in the past few years, and become a better person. But how could he know, really?
:You were a better partner and leader for your team when I met you,: Anika noted.
:I abandoned them to find you,: he felt the need to point out.
:For which they forgave you. Which tells me how much you mean to them, and they to you.: She smiled drowsily. :It is difficult not to forgive acts of passion.:
:Fortunately for me.: Ted squeezed her shoulders with the arm that lay around them. :I wish you didn't have to go tonight.:
:The boys need to see that we are okay,: Anika replied sensibly. :I can bring them by in the morning, if you'd like.:
:Please.: If anything could lift his mood, it was his boys, and they would feel better for having seen him. :I'd like that.: