Chapter 15: Shell-Shocked

Roy put his head in his hands and sighed as he waited for Riza to finish getting everything together.

The rouge alchemist's body had been loaded up and taken away, and Havoc was being driven home by Fuery and Breda. It was just the two of them, a few other military personnel that had showed up with the police, and the police left in the building.

He was ready to go home, down a few painkillers with a splash of whiskey, and go to sleep. His head throbbed mercilessly, and while his nose had stopped bleeding it still sent aching waves of pain.

Not to mention, Roy was worried. It had been a while since he'd reconvened with the team, and he wondered if Ed had made it home by now.

He was worried about Fullmetal, about what he was doing right now.

Worried he was going to make some irreversible choice.

Worried that he was hurt, and suffering, and alone.

He knew Riza had said he'd already made a difference, and it was relieving to hear. However, he couldn't shake the guilt that bubbled up whenever Edward came into his thoughts.

He couldn't help but feel he'd failed him, and that whatever happened next, Roy should have been able to stop it.

Riza's gentle hand on his shoulder brought him out of his thoughts, and he looked up into her concerned eyes. She turned around and slid a chair closer, sitting so she was facing directly toward him.

"He's a strong kid," she said with a sad smile, somehow knowing exactly what he was thinking about.

Though, Ed was likely all any of them were thinking about right now.

Hawkeye lifted her hands up slowly to gently examine Mustang's nose. He closed his eyes and let her get a good look at it. The blood had dried now, and was crusted over his lips, chin, and under his nose.

Her fingers were calloused and rough, but he couldn't help but feel comforted by their touch.

Without warning, a loud crack brought with it an immense jolt of shocking pain, and Mustang yelped. He jerked his head back and opened his eyes, hands immediately rushing to his face.

"Sorry," Riza frowned sympathetically, "It needed to be set, and I've always heard without warning is better than a countdown."

Roy shook his head incredulously; he knew she was right, but he was surprised, nonetheless.

"Thanks," he muttered as the pain slowly started ebbing away. It did feel better than it had.

Riza shrugged and moved to say something else, but instead stood suddenly, looking at something behind him. He turned to where she was fixated, concerned.

A black military car had pulled up next to the building, and Fuery ran out of the passenger's side towards them. Mustang stood alongside Hawkeye immediately, following her out of the building as they met Fuery halfway.

"What's going on?" Hawkeye asked immediately, "Is Havoc alright?"

"He's fine," Fuery said quickly. "We just got a call on the car phone, there's been a report involving alchemy in a neighborhood nearby."

Roy froze.

It couldn't be.

"Are there no other teams to manage it?" Hawkeye asked. Roy nodded at that; they were exhausted, and while they could tough it out to manage another alchemist, a rest would be nice.

Besides, it wasn't him. It couldn't be.

Ed was going to be ok.

"Unfortunately not," Fuery muttered. "At least none that could get there as quick as you two. I'd go, but we have to get Havoc somewhere quiet for his head."

Hawkeye sighed and grabbed the slip of paper Fuery was offering to her: the address from the report.

As soon as she glanced over the scrawled numbers, her face paled. She met Roy's eyes and didn't have to say anything for his stomach to drop.

Fuck.

"Are you sure this is the right address?" She demanded, sharp eyes boring into Fuery's.

Roy was at a loss for words, unsure of how to react. A part of him was angry, furious, but the other part? The other part of him was terrified.

Ed was in danger.

He was sure of it.

"Y-yes Lieutenant," he stammered, standing to attention at the sudden harsh shift in tone. "It just came through on the p-phone, something about yelling and o-obvious signs of alchemy."

Roy could feel the waves of distress and fury rippling off Hawkeye and was glad he wasn't the one in her warpath right now.

They could finally do something, finally help. They didn't need a warrant, they didn't need evidence, this would be enough.

Enough to finally get Ed out of there, to make sure he was safe from here on out.

If they weren't already too late of course.

Riza's bright amber eyes met his darker ones, filled with hatred and determination. She handed him the slip of paper, already moving towards their car.

"I'll drive."

Hohenheim jumped out of the way as Al sent a metal fist towards his head, barely missing the blow.

"How could you?!" Al screeched, a well-aimed kick nailing Hohenheim in the side as he scrambled away.

He gasped at the sudden pain, getting hit by a metal suit of armor hurt.

"Alphonse, I-"

"No!" Al screamed, "I don't want to hear it!" He swung again, red eyes searing into Hohenheim's soul.

"How could you do this to my brother?!"

Hohenheim glanced over at Ed, who was curled into a ball on the floor clutching his now useless automail arm. Tears flowed freely down his face as he gasped and writhed in pain.

Weak, Hohenheim thought with disgust.

Leather met the side of his face as Al landed a punch, and Hohenheim's glasses flew off his face and landed against the wooden floor, lenses shattering on impact.

Hohenheim stumbled, his face already starting to swell from where Alphonse had hit him.

Ed ruined everything, Hohenheim sneered to himself.

Even after everything Ed had done to Al, after all the tension he'd helped create, Al was still loyal to that monster. This was all Ed's fault.

"Alphonse please, are you not angry at him for what he's done?" Hohenheim pleaded.

Al paused for a moment, seemingly confused. Hohenheim fired off, trying to get his piece in before Al got angry again and didn't listen to him.

"He brought your mother back, only so you both could watch her die," He started. "He forced you to stand by him as he joined the military, did he ever ask what you wanted to do?"

Al was watching him intently, and he wished the boy had a real face so he could read the emotions he must be feeling.

"He's bossy, and pushy, and selfish, and doesn't ever put you or your needs first. He killed you Alphonse, he killed you and stuck you in that horrid steel-"

Al grabbed his shoulders and threw him into the wall. His back cracked with the impact, aching pain leaving him nearly breathless as he slid into a crumpled sitting position.

"My needs?!" Al all but shrieked. "He only ever puts my needs first. He's bossy and pushy, but he always takes care of me and looks out for me. He's not selfish, he puts my needs above his own, like he's clearly been doing for months now."

Al's voice wavered, whether with anger or despair Hohenheim couldn't tell.

"We both wanted mother back. We both agreed to make that transmutation circle, we both suffered the consequences of that."

Al shook his head, a dark laugh bubbling from inside the metal suit. It reverberated back out, hollow and cold.

"You think Ed killed me?" Alphonse asked, sparing a glance at his brother who was staring up at him. He had blood caked on his face and mouth, and was still clutching at his metal arm, but his gold eyes were looking up at Al intensely.

Ed was worried, Al could tell. Worried about what Al was going to say. About how Al really felt about him.

Had Hohenheim been telling him these lies all this time?

Had Hohenheim been digging into Ed's soul while he beat him senseless, turning him into the shell of himself he so clearly was now?

Al swore he felt queasy at the thought, stomach or no stomach.

He turned back to Hohenheim, who had picked up his broken frames from the floor and was looking up at him, waiting.

"Ed saved me." Al stated firmly.

"Ed saved my life, kept me from becoming one with the gate. Sacrificed parts of himself so that I could be here today, and has done nothing but sacrifice ever since!"

Al's voice rose as he spoke, anger filling his hollowed cavity once more.

"Hell, maybe if you'd stuck around, we wouldn't have wanted mother back so badly anyway!"

Hohenheim visibly snarled at that, how dare Alphonse try to put this on him. He was angry that Ed had been so selfish. Furious when he thought Ed had told Alphonse what was going on.

But now? For Ed to have manipulated Al so much that he was turning against him, after everything he'd done for him? For both of them?

He was absolutely livid.

Al moved forward to land another blow on him, but Hohenheim had other plans. He clapped his hands together and slid out of the way.

Al's momentum carried him past Hohenheim, and as he swung around to have another go, Hohenheim pressed his hands against the metal chest of the suit that once belonged to him.

Before Ed had cursed it.

Al shrieked as the metal of the suit was forcibly bent in strange angles, and his red eyes grew as he realized he could no longer move his arms.

With a shaly breath, Hohenheim stepped back and wiped his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand.

Al was transmuted to the wall behind him, arms spread apart so that he couldn't use alchemy to free himself. The metal fused into the wood behind him, and while his yelling rattled the frame of the house, it didn't get him any closer to being freed.

"You sick bastard!" Alphonse screamed, the foul words sounding foreign in his usually sweet voice.

Hohenheim sighed with pity, slipping the broken glasses back onto his face. The lenses were cracked, and the right half was completely gone. Small triangles of glass hung to the edges of the frame, but that was all that remained.

The rest was shattered against the hardwood floor, the same floor that Edward was crawling forward on.

Hohenheim watched for a moment, as Ed helplessly tried to crawl over to Ed, his automail arm dragging off to the side as he pushed against the floor with his feet.

It was akin to watching a spider crawl towards a fly, that is, if you cut half the spider's legs off.

Hohenheim stepped forward and with a swift kick to the back of his head, threw Ed's face into the floor. Ed grunted, but continued to try and drag himself forward, determined to get to Al.

That wasn't going to happen.

Hohenheim leaned over and grabbed the boy by the shirt, jerking his arm so that Ed skidded across the floor away from Al. He took a few swift steps forward and landed another solid kick against Ed's chest.

Bright drops of blood spewed from Ed's mouth as it opened on reflex, Ed's eyes widening in pain and surprise. If his ribs hadn't been broken before, they sure as hell were now.

"Stop it!" Al cried, "Please, leave him alone! Haven't you done enough?"

Hohenheim didn't even glance his way, fixated on the source of all his problems. If Ed hadn't come into this world, maybe Trisha would still be alive.

Maybe he'd be spending the rest of his life with her, together. No responsibility, no troublesome children.

He'd hoped that he'd at least have Alphonse to care for, and to spend time with. He reminded him so much of her, with his gentle and caring nature. Always putting others before himself, and always seeing the best in everyone.

Edward, on the other hand, reminded him of himself.

Too much of himself.

And he hated himself.

Hated himself for leaving Trisha, for not being there in her last moments, for devoting so much of his time to work that he could barely remember the last time he saw her smile.

He could barely remember the last time he saw her at all.

He had been so selfish.

Looking down into the bright golden eyes of his son, he saw himself. Ed had also been selfish, taking after him in more ways than one.

All of this, all of this was supposed to keep Ed from making the same mistakes he had.

At least…that's what it had started as.

After all, wasn't his job as a father to look out for his son?

Hohenheim sneered as he pressed a heel into Ed's hand, hearing the joints pop under the pressure.

Ed deserved this. Ed needed to be taught a lesson.

Even if he didn't consider Ed his son anymore.

A sharp knock at the door jolted him from his torment of Ed, and he scowled. Someone must have heard all the yelling and called the police.

He knew he couldn't ignore it, but he wondered how he was going to play this off. With a sigh and a plan, he straightened his broken glasses and tossed Ed a menacing glare.

"Don't even think about moving," he growled.

Running hands down his shirt to tidy himself up, Hohenheim stepped out of the room and down the stairs.

He just needed to convince the police that everything was fine, and that he had things taken care of. That he was practicing alchemy for the State Alchemist exam and hurt himself in the process.

They would buy it, for sure.

Roy was angry, fuming, ready to light this sick bastard on fire as soon as he laid eyes on him.

But Hawkeye? Hawkeye was angry.

Roy gripped the edge of his seat as she sped through town, weaving between other cars and narrowly dodging civilians unfortunate enough to be caught out in the rain.

"Look I know you want to get to Fullmetal as much as I do but we have to get there alive," He muttered hastily as she zipped through a stop sign.

A few cars honked at them, but she didn't pay them any attention.

"Do you trust me?" She asked, her voice devoid of any emotion. For a minute Roy through it might have been a rhetorical question, but a quick flit of her eyes to his showed she wanted a response.

"I, of course I trust you," Mustang stated plainly. "That's not even a question."

She nodded, swerving around a corner so sharply that Mustang had to grab the car door to steady himself.

"Then we'll get there alive." She said earnestly.

"And quickly."

Mustang sighed shakily, not wanting to start an argument with her. Not while they were both emotional and exhausted.

"Put some dry gloves on," Hawkeye barked, as if she were the Colonel and he was the Lieutenant.

He didn't mind, however, and followed her advice. He pulled a half-dry spare from his pockets and wrung them out as best as he could. They would have to do.

And hopefully he wouldn't have to use them.

Roy wondered how Hohenheim would react to them showing up. He was a smart man, and by now would have to have guessed that someone would have heard them and called it in.

Though, Roy thought with a wicked grin, he would probably be expecting the police.

Would he let them in?

Roy wasn't sure.

Hohenheim didn't have a choice, as they had probable cause. But would he step aside and give up, let them run in and get Ed out of there?

Or would he try and fight them, try and take them out too?

Hohenheim was a capable alchemist, and Mustang knew they had reason to be cautious of him. He didn't want to have to cause a scene, especially if Ed was needing immediate medical treatment.

However, he wasn't above ensuring Hohenheim also needed immediate medical treatment.

"We're almost there sir," Riza mentioned, taking another jarring turn.

"Perfect," Roy said with a glance down at his gloved hands.

Please be ok Ed, Roy thought hurriedly. We're coming to save you, like we should have from the start.

The red stitching across the back of his glove drew his focus, and he steeled himself.

Hohenheim, he thought angrily. You'd better count down your days.

We're coming for you.

Ed groaned as he tried to get his body to move. He had to get to Al, had to get him freed.

Did he even have the energy or consciousness left to perform alchemy?

He wasn't sure, but he knew he had to try.

Even if he didn't make it, Al needed to.

Al had to.

Ed had been mortified when Al had opened that door, a small part of him worried Al would take Hohenheim's side and agree that Ed had been nothing but a horrible brother.

It wouldn't be a lie, but he knew it would have hurt nonetheless.

He hadn't expected Al to come in swinging, no questions asked. Sure, Al could be impulsive and hot-headed, but Ed couldn't remember the last time he had seen him so angry.

It felt, nice.

When Al had thrown Hohenheim against the wall, Ed couldn't help but grin from where he lay.

He'd felt bad for not helping, but Al clearly had things covered. After all, even though he wasn't a State Alchemist, he was a hell of a fighter.

The grin had quickly vanished at Al's words, however, which tore through his heart. Al's voice was sincere and held so much emotion to it.

He'd…. saved Al?

Ed didn't know if he'd have called it that. He'd gotten him killed in the first place, something Ed could never forget.

Yet here was Al, fighting for him. Standing up for him, despite everything he'd done to him.

He didn't deserve this.

Ed hadn't wanted to ruin the beautiful moment, but he couldn't shake the thoughts that had lingered in the back of his head like burrs burrowed into his skin.

He didn't deserve this.

Ed could see the minute Hohenheim had snapped, and his eyes widened at the quick clap of Hohenheim's hands. He'd opened his mouth to scream out to Al but was too late. The bright flashes of alchemy made him close his eyes, and when he'd opened them, Al was plastered against the wall.

Arms outstretched in a vulnerable position, red eyes flickering between Hohenheim and him.

He was like a crucifix; Ed couldn't help but think.

Ed's face had paled, and while his brain screamed at him to move, he'd remained frozen.

He was shell-shocked.

Hohenheim had hurt Al. Everything he'd done, everything he'd been doing to protect his brother, it was all for nothing.

Hohenheim had hurt Al.

Ed groaned as he forced his body to move against the floor, pushing as much as he could with his legs. He gasped as a sharp bolt jumped through his arm and he bit his lip, hard. Bright red blood pooled from his mouth as he tore his lip open, but he couldn't risk distracting Al or catching Hohenheim's attention.

Though, Hohenheim's heavy footsteps coming closer told Ed he'd caught his attention, nonetheless.

His vision was blurry, breath coming in a wheezing gasp. He could barely make out the shape of Hohenheim now hovering over him, but he didn't care anymore.

He felt his head get slammed into the floor, and his vision went white for a moment. He didn't have time for this.

He just needed to get Al out.

Al was all that mattered now.

Al's voice echoed in his mind as his vision grew darker, and he fought to stay awake. He drifted in and out of consciousness, and the last thing he fully registered was the searing pain in his hand.

He thought he heard the door open and close, and wondered where Hohenheim would be going.

Ed wasn't sure, his brain was foggy with exhaustion and pain, and he couldn't keep his head upright anymore.

With a wheezy sigh, Ed let himself lie slack against the floor, Al's worried screams fading away as his world turned black.

Hohenheim took a deep breath to settle himself and opened the door, a weary smile plastered onto his face as he gave a light chuckle.

"You must be here about the noise," he started, freezing when he saw who was looking at him.

Colonel Roy Mustang and Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye were looming in his doorway, eyes bright with anger. Rain dripped off their shoulders and hair, falling to the ground to darken the dry stone under the door's awning.

Hawkeye had a hand on her pistol, cold eyes seeing straight into his soul. Mustang's infamous white gloves were already slipped on, and Hohenheim noticed that despite the rain they were still mostly dry.

What fucking luck, he thought bitterly.

"Let us through." Mustang demanded, not bothering to preface it with the formalities that usually came with domestic reports.

Hohenheim glanced between him and Hawkeye, whose eyes furrowed at him as if to say 'just try and stop us'.

Mustang lifted a hand and pressed his fingers together threateningly, eyebrows raised as he waited for Hohenheim to answer…or step aside.

The stitched red crest of the alchemical circle stared back at him, and Hohenheim gulped nervously.

Well shit.

A/N: It's a tad bit shorter, but I hope you enjoyed this chapter nonetheless! Things are getting intense, and I was grinning at the responses to the last chapter. Al is here and Al is ready to throw hands, don't you worry.

WOW though, I was NOT expecting to be able to get this chapter out as quickly as I have, but I've been in a groove lately and I'm not going to second-guess it. My ECU in my wrist (think tendon) is inflamed and I have fluid buildup so art hasn't been feasible, and I guess that made this easier to jump into. Everyone needs a creative outlet right? My wrist will be ok haha, no need to worry.

I think it's fair to officially say that this is the climax of the story, and while I don't expect things to deescalate necessarily, we are hitting that "no-going back point". Which has been absolutely THRILLING to write, and I'm excited for what I have planned for the next chapters. Thank you, for the love and support and uplifting messages! You guys are the best, and I can't put into enough words how much it means to me.