This was supposed to be done a long time ago, but as usual, I got swamped with work and mental health issues.
So, because I'm so smart and well-adjusted, I got a puppy.
I MIGHT have a puppy. We're still in the trial period. It was a very spur of the moment decision - someone was giving out free puppies to a good home, my cat died back in August, I've been fighting to find a reason to keep going, and I was just going to hold one for a second, and then she crawled into my arms and I started bawling my eyes out - so my family is understandably and rightfully miffed at me.
But they have agreed that we can try it for at least three weeks, and if I can figure it out, she stays. If not, I'm sure she will have no issues finding a family that can give her the life she deserves.
It would break my heart, but I gotta do what's best for the baby.
Well, after that bit of sentiment, let's move on to some horror, why don't we?
When Elicia heard that Uncle Roy was coming to stay with them for a while, she squealed and threw her applesauce across the dining room.
When Uncle Roy came to stay with them for a while, she squealed and threw herself across the foyer.
Roy had to catch her under her arms to keep her from face planting on the wood floor.
"What took you so long?"
Colonel Maes Hughes followed his daughter, his arms just as open but his pace measurably slower. Roy hiked Elicia onto his hip and met his friend's proffered hands with his own.
"Train searches. Command has ordered all units to check transportation lines for the Infiltrator." He didn't hide the wry smile as he said the pretentious title.
Hughes laughed and took his daughter, slinging her over his shoulder like she was a sack of potatoes. Elicia squealed again and kicked her legs like she was trying to swim through the air.
"The Infiltrator," Maes mimicked, bouncing his daughter on his shoulder. "They do know that by giving him a spooky name like that, it only reinforces the fact that they don't want us to know how easily he got in."
"Are you gonna tell them that?" Roy countered as he picked up his bags and followed his friend into the apartment.
Gracia came out of the kitchen, wiping her hands on a towel. She smiled at her husband and their guest. "Dinner's almost ready. Hope you like chicken pie."
"I love chicken pie," Roy said, smiling back. Roy loved anything that was cooked by Gracia. She could have said that they were having boiled sludge from the dumpster in the alley and his mouth would have started watering.
"Hawkeye not joining us?"
"Not tonight. She has to get Hayate settled. It's a nightmare getting an animal approved for the dorms, and even then, you have to follow so many protocols and restrictions."
"Shame. Elicia can't wait to have a hair-braiding buddy. Mine's too short and Gracia can't sit long enough for Elicia to create a proper masterpiece."
"Sorry," Roy said, hearing the request in Maes's words. "I have to follow a dress-code. I don't think 'glitters and ribbons' is on the list of approved head gear."
"I'm sure they can make an exception." Maes turned his head to snuggle his daughter's ribs. She giggled and beat his chest and back with her hands and feet.
XXX
"Yeesh."
The hole was like an open wound, radiating wrongness and oozing darkness.
"You said there were no traces of gunpowder or any other explosives?" Roy took a tentative step closer. to the hole, studying the shape of the edges. They were triangular and square, like a mathematician had come along and cut out right-angled bits for the sake of geometry.
"Nope. It's like the cement just decided to test the theory of spontaneous combustion," Maes said, keeping a safe distance away.
Roy ran a finger along the jagged points, his skin catching on the concrete, but nothing else. Whatever reaction had caused this was long over.
"These are transmutation marks."
"Really?" Seeing his friend was still in one piece, Maes dared to venture a few steps forward but kept himself just a few steps back. "The police who were called to the scene said they looked like it might be alchemy, but they couldn't be sure."
"It's unfinished alchemy. The alchemist who did this started the transmutation and then stopped it in the middle. Those square edges are where the marks would be if he had kept it going."
Roy straightened, bringing his hand to his chin in a thoughtful "hmmm."
"Ever seen anything like it?"
"In books? Yes. In reality? Never."
They stood in contemplative silence.
"It goes all the way down?"
"All the way and then some."
Another silence.
Roy sighed and crossed his arms.
"So we're dealing with something that's never been done before."
Maes grunted.
"Stays in theme with the past two years, what with God coming down from Heaven and all."
XXX
They left the hole to the cleanup crew once Roy had granted the all clear. It occurred to him that, as powerful as the Bringer was, he could have analyzed and repaired the breach himself. It also occurred to him that voicing this occurrence would be one of the stupidest things he would have ever done.
The sounds of the construction alchemists repairing the damage echoed down the corridor through the hollowed wall.
Roy knew it was childish, but he couldn't help the zings of excitement that kept shooting along his spine.
He was going to see the Conduit.
He was going to be stationed in the Conduit.
He kept reminding himself it was only temporary. It was just until the Infiltrator was caught, until the threat to Amestris's key to stability had been neutralized. Then he would remember the record of his presence, the influence it would give him towards his status, his position, would be permanent, and his insides would start dancing like they'd had too much to drink at a military ball.
There was no transition from the bleak, empty corridor to the velvet and glass of the reception room. His officers were waiting for him there, their faces professional but the same almost innocent excitement shining in their eyes. Not being alchemists, they had not been permitted to approach the damaged wall. Upon seeing him, they obediently stood to attention, straightening their legs and raising their arms in salutes.
Mustang saluted in return, giving them permission to lower their arms, and then turned towards the glass panel in the wall.
It looked like an operating theatre.
He wasn't sure what he had been expecting - perhaps the elaborate runes and the gauges and the stacks of ink-lined paper - but what looked to be a surgical table and medical instruments had certainly not been on the list. He cast a glance at Riza and saw his own moment of realization on her face.
It seemed there was some truth to the rumors.
Someone cleared their throat and Mustang looked away from the window. A simple-looking blond man wearing a uniform that was a cross between a lab coat and a military jacket was standing in the corner of the room, in the angle between the door to the reception room and the exit of the corridor Mustang and Hughes had come through. The man saluted and Roy caught the glint of stars on his sleeve. Roy was quick to salute in return.
"I am Colonel Allen Howard. I'm the head of the Conduit Translation team." The man paused, as if he thought the unit needed a moment to process this monumental bit of information. "I have been tasked with familiarizing you with your stations and assigning you your posts. As I'm sure you know, an Infiltrator breached the sanctity of the Conduit approximately five days at ago at just about one in the morning. The fact that there is an alchemist powerful enough to come so close to our nation's and mankind's greatest asset roaming is freely is more dangerous than can be put into words. As such, the High Commander and the Fhurer President have selected you," the man's eyes lingered on Mustang and Hawkeye, "to act as a secondary line of defense until this Infiltrator is apprehended and dealt with."
Another pause. When Colonel Howard spoke again, his face was twisted as if the words tasted particularly bitter.
"Due to the insurmountable importance of the Conduit and what it gives our society, the Conduit will be utilized during your time here. This means you will see the Conduit in performance, as well as the procedures and protocol related to maintenance and rehearsal."
Mustang felt the shiver that passed through his team. Howard must have felt it too because a small self-satisfied smile bloomed beneath his mustache.
"What you will see during this assignment is a matter of national security. You will be expected to swear an oath of confidentiality that you will be expected to preserve. If you refuse to swear, you will be removed from this assignment. If you break the oath after swearing, you will face the severest of consequences. Am I understood?"
Another pause, though this one was held by Roy as he turned to scan his men with what Howard was supposed to interpret as a reminder of rank. To the men the look was targeted towards, it was almost apologetic, a slightly raised brow saying the sarcastic sympathy Roy could not say.
Fuery's muted grin and Breda's tilt of the head was the only confirmation he received and needed.
Roy turned back around, his expression smoothing over into flawless aloofness.
"You are."
Howard's grin had widened. Roy decided he did not like this man, but he was used to working with people he didn't like.
Besides, the experience of this posting - they were in the Conduit - more than made up for any bureaucratic butt-faces he would have to put up with.
XXX
Fuery was given the privilege of monitoring the circuit logs for suspicious activity. Roy did not envy him. A single glance at one of the folded stacks told Roy absolutely nothing: the graphed lines and lists of elemental reorganization were incomprehensible to him. Kain had made a face at the formulae, but seemed to forget any misgivings as soon as he caught sight of the transmission frequencies.
Havoc was put to work with various tasks, what with his "jack of all trades" place in the unit. A high-security handyman seemed like strange thing to request, in Roy's initial opinion, but when he realized how preoccupied the technicians were with containing and repairing the breach, having a designated scheme-sorter and instrument-cleaner became a resource that was clear in its value.
Roy may not have envied Fuery, but when he saw the posting given to Falman and Breda, he felt genuinely sorry. They were ordered to stand outside the lab, in the velvet lined reception room, guarding the newly repaired glass and the hallways and door that led into and out of the laboratory. He knew this was because neither were known for their prowess in combat or dexterity - it felt horribly like sending the expendable ones to the front lines as a shield - but he also conceded that this might be the best place for them. They were able to see everything going on inside and outside of the lab, and with Falman's photographic memory and Breda's strategic brain, they were primed to come up with plans and theories that Mustang would never have thought of.
Roy and Riza were given places of honor within the lab, on opposite sides of the glass panel, back to back to Falman and Breda, separated by a wall. If anyone - or anything - got passed the warrant officer and the second lieutenant, they would come face to face with the Hero of Ishval and the Hawk's Eye.
Hughes, as the Head of Intelligence, was stationed at the other end of the theatre, near the head of the table, so that he formed a triangle with Hawkeye and Mustang. Roy met his friend's eyes and they cast each other surreptitiously ardent glances. Even based in Central as he was, not even Maes had ever been allowed near the Conduit - ironic, considering he had been the one they had consulted on this "secondary-line of defense." Roy had an inkling that General Grumman had also played a part in their assignment, but he hadn't dared inquire further.
As a Mustang, Roy knew better than most never to look a gift horse in the mouth.
XXX
And then they simply watched.
One technician wiped down the surgical table while another sent a message through the intercom to the other side of the lab - the Translation, Mustang recalled. The room they were standing in was Transcription, where arrays and schemes were processed. Roy could only assume Translation was where the product of the process appeared.
Havoc sharpened what looked like a bone saw.
Breda and Falman occasionally glanced backwards through the glass.
Fuery poured over trains of graphs, making notes when he came across something even remotely suspicious.
When the voice came over the speaker, Roy nearly leaped out of his skin.
"I want you to know that I find your presence here wholly unnecessary."
Roy and Riza whirled around so that they faced the glass, reflexively raising their arms in salutes as they moved.
General Raven glared through the panel, completely ignoring the saluted figures of Falman and Breda on either side of him.
"My people and I are fully capable of handling anything and everything that involves the Conduit," Raven continued, his voice crackling through the speaker.
Roy said nothing because there was no way for him to speak to the general through the glass, but he did glance to his right, to where the gaping hole in the wall next to the corridor.
Raven bared his teeth in a growl Mustang couldn't hear.
"However, as a loyal citizen of Amestris and a dutiful follower of High Command, I am aware that I do not know best. Therefore, I am grateful to serve High Command in any way they see fit."
He spat the word "grateful" like it was a piece of bad meat.
"High Command has ordered that operations continue despite your… intrusion. You are to remain at your designated post. You are not to interfere with the technicians' duties. You are, under no circumstances, to approach the Conduit, Translation or Transcription."
Raven's snarl shifted into a contradictory grin.
"If you violate any of these orders, I promise you there will not be enough to scrape off the floor."
Roy resisted the urge to roll his eyes with practiced ease.
Raven's smile vanished when he realized Mustang wasn't interested in the bait.
"Assemble the Transcriber and proceed with the docket." Raven lifted his finger of the button for the intercom, turned smartly, and marched away into the shadows like a disappointed wraith. Falman and Breda didn't lower their arms until a good after ten seconds after he had disappeared.
They both shot secret glances over their shoulders at Mustang, who answered with a silent nod, then turned back towards the room and Maes, who had watched the encounter with laugher obviously trapped in his throat.
XXX
Roy didn't think much of the white lump when it was wheeled into the room on a gurney.
He started when the technician pushing the gurney stopped by the surgical table and two others rushed forward to push their hands under the lump, lifting it off the gurney and moving it onto the table with a gentleness of handling glass and the urgency of handling explosives.
The technicians kept glancing at Mustang and his soldiers, then back at a stern-looking woman with stars on her shoulder - Roy believed her name was Dorsey. Every time someone looked at her, she would nod and wave for them to continue, becoming increasingly impatient the more times she did so.
The whiteness of the lump proved to be cloth. The technicians unwrapped the lump, the layers shifting from pure white to interspersing runes and symbols Roy didn't recognize.
As the lump got smaller, Roy was repeatedly disappointed by a lack of skin or flash of eyes.
As the lump got small and didn't stop, his disappointment fizzled into shock.
When the final layer was pulled away, his knees nearly gave out.
He knew then that it was not Maes's recommendation that brought them here.
Nor was it Grumman's.
Roy stared at his lieutenant. She stared back, just as dumbfounded and realized.
Mustang and Hawkeye had been chosen to guard the Conduit because they had been the ones who had found it.
XXX
Roy was quiet at dinner that night.
Maes was not.
He was laughing, joking with his wife and playing with his daughter. When Gracia took Elicia to bed, he asked Roy if something was wrong.
Roy thought about telling him.
He realized it would make no difference.
"No, Hughes. Nothing. Everything's fine."
XXX
As the technicians became used to the presence of the soldiers, they began to acknowledge, going so for as to ask them to pass them certain tools or offer a friendly joke.
Riza in particular seemed to have taken a liking to one of the woman technicians, occasionally whispering to each other and twittering in the way women often do.
Roy didn't understand it.
He also didn't understand how easily Maes seemed to accept the fact that the Conduit was a child.
He didn't understand why he couldn't accept it so readily.
After all, the boy didn't seem to be suffering. He didn't seem to be in any pain. He simply laid there and slept, starting only when cables were either inserted or removed from the designated ports in the metal caps covering the holes where his right arm and left leg should be - Roy hated that he wasn't surprised by the absence of the limbs because it meant he knew what he knew - or when Dorsey brought over a tile - a scheme, they were called - and placed his left hand on the transmutation circle.
The schemes were kept in a safe in the corner of the room. Roy hadn't seen much of them, but when he did, he occasionally saw runes he recognized. Trying to catch a glimpse of the schemes quickly proved to be a more rewarding hobby than watching the scheme be offered to the Conduit (the boy).
When his fingers touched the array, his eyes would open wide and his jaw would work, like he was trying to say something and then kept forgetting what it was. It was eerie, but it was also repetitive, which meant it became boring after the third instance.
The technicians weren't overly affectionate, but they weren't cold, either. The technicians would frequently smooth a gloved hand over the boy's hair - it was long and uncut, like spools of golden thread - whenever he stirred. Even Dorsey, who was the most closed off of all of them, would give him an appreciative pat on his sunken belly.
The excessive thinness was definitely something that concerned him.
XXX
Roy knew that gathering intelligence was Maes's job in the military and protecting his family from his career was his job as a father, but it still amazed Roy when his friend's demeanor completely changed when they sat the Madame Christmas's bar.
It was like he aged ten years as he ordered a brandy, wrinkles pressing themselves into his face and his eyes curving towards his forehead.
"The first person I got ahold of told me the old religious bullshit."
Roy was caught so off guard that he simply stared at him. Maes downed half his glass in a single gulp.
"'The Vessel of God is aware of all things at all times.'"
He shook his head with a humorless smile and downed the second half of his drink.
"And the others?" Roy asked as if he knew where his friend was going with this, picking up his shot of whiskey and throwing it down his throat.
It burned wonderfully.
Maes didn't answer right away.
"One said they think he knows where and who he is and he's also everyone and everything. Another said that there's no one in there and that it's just… well, a vessel for the transmutations."
Roy hummed and flagged down the waitress for a second drink. His sister smiled ruefully as she refilled his glass.
"Long week at work, Roy-Boy?"
Roy returned her smile but didn't answer her question.
"The others…" Maes mumbled once Roy's sister had walked out of earshot. "The others are… Roy, they're… is there a word for "respectful but terrified, but also pitying?"
Roy gave himself a moment to think.
"Worshipful?"
Maes pulled a face.
"That's what I was afraid you'd say." He sighed as he took another sip of his drink. "They worship him, Roy."
They sat in silence for a while.
"So… what's your plan?"
Roy tilted his head to the side, not understanding. Maes growled impatiently and ran a hand through his hair.
"We know how it works now, but since it's - he's a person, it means we have to consider his intentions in this whole thing if we want whatever it is we decide to go with to work."
"You're not… Maes, it's a kid."
Maes looked at him like he was wondering if Roy had hit his head at some point that day.
"Yeah, he is."
"That doesn't… bother you?"
Maes barked a laugh like the military dog he was.
"Roy, it's the Amestrian military. They would've done this if this was the Fhurer's baby nephew. It's that… Roy, we can't force him to come with us."
If Roy was confused before, he was completely lost now.
"What.. why is that even -"
"Because if he chose this, we can't go against that!"
"Maes, it's a kid."
Maes's expression shifted from concerned to horrified.
"Roy… don't you get it? If he's choosing this life, then taking him from it would be wrong."
Roy laughed. Maes had said it like he was explaining why it was naughty to sneak cookies in the middle of the night.
"That's what you're worried about?!"
The look Maes gave him made him understand why Elicia was so compliant when her father was in charge of bedtime. Roy found himself cutting himself off mid-laugh and squeezing his jaw together.
"I thought we were building a better world."
"We are -"
"A world where people can be free to live the lives they choose without having to worry about hunger or violence."
"Yes."
"Then how are we supposed to do that if we don't start now?"
Roy felt a wave of boyish rebellion rise up inside him. He squared his shoulders and straightened his back, meeting Maes's immovability with his own refusal to be intimidated.
"He's just a kid, he doesn't know what he wants. We don't even know who he is -"
"I know who he is, Roy."
Roy sat there with his mouth open like a dead fish. Maes sat there with his brow crooked like he was thinking about how he was going to eat this dead fish.
Roy found his voice slowly and and sporadically.
"What… you… how do you -"
"Because I saw the way you looked at him. You and your lieutenant. That and what I got from my shovel didn't make it hard to put the puzzle together."
Roy finally regained enough control of his mouth to close it and stared at the whiskey in his cup like he expected it to comfort him from outside his body.
"Why didn't you say anything?"
"Because you didn't. I assumed that if there was something you needed me to know, you'd tell me."
Roy closed his eyes, accepting the admonishment.
Maes gave him the minute he needed, quietly nursing his drink, then lowered his empty glass with a tired sigh.
"For now, we respect his boundaries, as best as we can tell what they are."
Roy nodded acquiescently.
"Persuade him by incorporating him into the plan without taking away the life he chose."
Another moment of quiet contemplation.
"Maes… if you know who he is, then… you know about -"
"That there's another one? Yeah, I know."
"Do you know why he's held separately, where no one can see him?"
Maes grunted.
"That, I couldn't figure out. I heard some things about radiation and sacred isolation, but nothing that actually made sense." Then, as if an afterthought, "Why, do you know?"
Roy did.
XXX
It was incredibly risky and incredibly reliant on chance, but for now, it was the best they had.
The first part was fun.
Roy still didn't know how Maes always managed to drink him under the table.
The second part was not so fun.
He didn't remember spending the night sideways on the bed with a bin beneath his face as Gracia wiped away the sweat and vomit that built up on his skin.
He wished he didn't remember the pounding headache, the ringing lights, and the dance performance being held in his stomach.
He would always remember the moment in the Transcription room when he took a wobbly step forward, tripped over nothing, and plastered his sweaty hand on the surgical table as he vomited onto the pristine marble floor.
When he sat up, the technicians were staring at him in a mix of horror, disgust, and disbelief. Roy wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and staggered backwards to his post.
"Sorry," he croaked through a sore throat he didn't have to fake. "Lunch didn't agree with me."
XXX
The Translation team saw the contamination immediately and, with practiced haste, severed the the two halves of the Conduit before the circuit log could be corrupted further.
They were not quite fast enough.
Beneath the minerals and the enzymes and the water and the alcohol, he tasted something familiar.
XXX
0.0000000000000000009MG SODIUM 0.0000000000000000009MG CALCIUM 0.00000000000000000007MG POTASSIUM 0.000000000000004MG MAGNESIUM 0.00000000000008MG LACTATE 0.00000000000000008MG AMMONIA 0.000000000008MG UREA 0.00000000000004MG ACETATE 0.000000000000009MG ACETALDEHYDE 0.002MG WATER I SEE YOU THROUGH THE RIGHT WALL
I had no idea that there was such a thing as the Puppy Blues. I've got it bad. All I can think about is whether or not she's doing okay while I'm at work even though she has food, water, chew toys, a potty spot, and a bed and is confined in a safe space where she won't get into anything that might hurt her or make her sick.
My parents keep telling me that puppies are tough and she'll be fine as long as I give her plenty of attention and care when I'm home, but the main reason I'm worried this won't work is because I work a full-time job 40 minutes away from where I live.
I really want to keep my new baby, but I have to accept there's a good chance that her real family is still out there somewhere.