Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction / Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Once More, With Pirates ❯ Wasted Words ( Chapter 4 )

A/N: Wow. This is moving slower than I'd planned. There's a lot of little details that have to be brought in, considering we have people who are completely unfamiliar with each other's universes. *sigh* And I SO need a flowchart to keep track of all the timelines involved. This is much more involved and complex that “Gotta Knock a Little Harder” was. I have more “worlds” to keep track of, more timelines, and a LOT more people. This story is most likely not going to have quite the same amount of pure action than the last, but I'm hoping I don't disappoint with the tension and drama.

 

Anyhow, for anyone who read the previous chapter, and seriously considered burning me in effigy over Alphonse's “death”. Tsk, tsk. You should've known better than to think I would just arbitrarily kill off a cannon character like that!

 

Chapters: 4

Word Count, This Chapter: 3152

Word Count Total: 13,082

Words Left: 36,918

Moments of Insanity (Dares Used): 4

Number of Mimes Killed: Still just one

Other Deaths: 1 (Ha! NOT!)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Wasted Words

 

Can you tell me, tell me, friend, just exactly where I've been? Is that so much to ask? I'll pay you back no matter what the task. You seem really sure 'bout something I don't know, Take that load off, looks like chest's about to go. Your wasted words already been heard, are you really god, yes or no? - Allman Brothers Band (Wasted Words)

 

Mustang blinked, and found himself off to the side of a brightly lit, oval shaped area with shiny black panels, flickering lights, and muted voices. His first thought was that he was rapidly getting tired of finding himself suddenly thrust into different places without warning. His second was of the unconscious boy at his feet.

 

He knelt and felt at Edward's throat for a pulse. It was there; slow and strong. Mustang breathed, and felt himself begin to sag the rest of the way to his knees.

 

Around him, there was a flurry of activity; a sense of controlled urgency. He saw the pallid-skinned man replace someone else at a console, and heard Picard say, “Data, report.”

 

“We are still on our heading to rendezvous with the USS Borne for medical supplies, Captain,” Data said. He turned in his seat, and added, “Approximately 5.322 minutes have passed since Q removed us from the Enterprise, Sir.”

 

“Approximately, Data?” Riker asked, smiling.

 

“Yes, Sir. I could take it to ten decimal places, if you would prefer. It would be more precise.”

 

Mustang looked from one man to the other, and realized this was an inside joke between the two of them, even if it made no sense to him. Instead, he turned his attention back to Fullmetal, and gently rolled him to his back.

 

Somewhere in the distance, he heard Picard say, “Counselor, help get the boy down to sick bay.” Then he saw a shadow over him. He looked up to see Havoc kneeling down, and scooping Edward up in his arms. As the Lieutenant struggled to get the boy held secure, Mustang scowled, reached up and plucked the unlit cigarette from the man's mouth.

 

Havoc blinked, then smiled crookedly. “I'll take care of him, Boss.”

 

As he got back to his feet, he shifted the dead weight in his arms, and grunted. “You know, for a little guy, he weighs a ton.”

 

Edward mumbled, “Who're you callin' so small you need a magnifying glass to see?”

 

Both Havoc and Mustang stared a moment, then Havoc chuckled softly and shook his head. At that moment Mustang's eyes landed on the lovely woman who joined them, and gently touched Havoc's arm. “I'm Counselor Deanna Troi. I'll take you down to Sick Bay.”

 

She glanced up at Mustang, and he couldn't help himself. One thought. One word shouted in his mind. Striking. “Colonel Roy Mustang,” he said, and offered her a hand.

 

She shook it and smiled. “Charmed, I'm sure,” she said, smiling warmly. Then she looked up at Havoc, who stared dumbly at her.

 

Mustang poked him surreptitiously in the ribs, and the Lieutenant blinked. “Oh, uh. Second Lieutenant Jean Havoc, Ma'am.” He glanced down at Edward, and shrugged. “I'd shake, but… you know.”

 

“Of course,” she said. She took him by the arm, and gestured toward a set of doors. As they headed off, Havoc shot a look back at Mustang that was a silent challenge. Mustang only smirked. The Counselor looked from one man to the other, and for a brief instant, he swore he saw a tinge of blush colour her cheeks. Then she gave him a knowing smile, and led his Lieutenant off. Mustang was suddenly left with the feeling he'd just been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

 

About halfway to the door, he saw Havoc stop and look down at the deck. The little redhead was sitting there with her arms around her dog; wide-eyed and taking in everything around her. She hadn't made a noise the entire time, and it was easy to forget she was even there. “You too, shrimplet,” Havoc said to her. “Grab your pooch, and let's let the grown-ups play.”

 

She sprang to her feet with an enormous grin, and shouted “Alriiiiight!” And Havoc took a step back from the force of her enthusiasm.

 

He chuckled low and asked, “So what's your name, again?”

 

“Edward.”

 

“What?” Fullmetal mumbled into Havoc's chest.

 

“E-edward?”

 

She nodded. “Yes. Edward Wong Hau Pepalu Tivrosky IV,” she said, solemnly.

 

Havoc's brows shot up as he stared back at Mustang. Mustang stared across the bridge at Spike and Jet. They just shrugged. Mustang suppressed a groan. Just what we need, he thought. More confusion.

 

“Just get them out of here, Lieutenant,” Mustang sighed.

 

As they reached the doors, they slid open on their own, and Havoc once again took a startled step back. A young, dark-skinned man with an odd band around his eyes emerged. He smiled and nodded at Havoc, and then nearly tripped over the redhead. She stared up at him in wonder, her eyes wide and her mouth in a small, silent `o'. The young man gave her a warm, genuine smile. “Hello there.”

 

Then he looked up, and around him at all the strangers. He whistled low, and said, “Looks like quite a party here, Captain. What's going on?”

 

“Q,” Riker said. The other man shook his head, understanding clearly; then did a slight double-take, as he noticed he was still being studied very closely by the young girl. Mustang realized he was either very used to this sort of thing, or it just never bothered him at all, because he gave her another one of those bright, warm smiles.

 

“Ed,” Jet said, and jerked his head toward the doors. She sagged, and slumped into what Mustang realized was a very small chamber. Havoc was still standing outside of it, looking at it suspiciously, but the Counselor was already inside, waiting calmly.

 

“It's called a turbo-lift,” she said. “It will take us down to Sick Bay.”

 

“Can't I just take the stairs?” Havoc asked.

 

She smiled and ducked her head. To hide a laugh, Mustang realized. When she looked back up, she was in complete control. “It's several decks down, Lieutenant,” she said, casting a significant look at Havoc's unconscious burden. Havoc cautiously stepped inside, and Mustang watched the doors instantly close on him.

 

“Picard to Sick Bay.”

 

“Crusher here, Captain,” a woman's voice responded tersely. Mustang's brows shot up at the tone.

 

“Doctor, Counselor Troi is escorting three of our… guests down there. One of them is an unconscious child.”

 

“Understood, Captain,” Crusher replied. “Is there something going on I should know about?”

 

Picard took a deep breath, and set his jaw. “Yes. We've just had another visit from Q.”

 

“That would explain it, then,” Crusher said.

 

“Pardon?”

 

“We have a person down here in a suit of armor who just appeared—“

 

Mustang snapped around, and stared in shock at Hughes, who just blinked.

 

“—and he won't allow us to help him out of it, so we can make sure he's uninjured.”

 

Riker broke out with a grin, and Picard just rubbed the back of his neck. “Leave him be for now, Doctor. A Lieutenant Havoc will be down there shortly.” He cast a look at Mustang. “He'll explain everything.”

 

“Yes, Captain,” she said, and the tone clearly implied he'd better, or the Captain will have to. Mustang had the distinct impression that he would not want to be in Picard's shoes if it came down to that.

 

Riker came up to Mustang, and clasped his shoulder. “I'm sorry that we couldn't warn you about this sooner, Colonel. Q's played this trick before; but we didn't want to take the chance that this time, he was serious.”

 

There was a soft thud, and both men turned to the sound. Hughes was sitting on the deck, with his elbows resting on his knees, and his hands running through his hair. “Maes!” Mustang said, and rushed to kneel at his friend's side.

 

Hughes waved him off, and looked up at him. His eyes were bright, but he was smiling. “I'm just relieved.” He looked up and jerked his chin toward something behind Mustang. “And a little overwhelmed.”

 

Mustang turned, and gasped. He took a step back, and felt a pair of strong hands on his shoulders. “Easy, Colonel,” Riker said.

 

In front of him was a huge panorama of deep space. He watched in mute awe as the stars flew past like swarms of fireflies. His mind decided it was time to go on strike at that moment, and refused to wrap itself around the information that was rapidly beginning to overload it.

 

“Data, cut the screen,” he heard Picard say, gently.

“Aye, Sir.” Then the view went white.

 

Somewhere in the distance, he heard Spike quip, “Man, I was enjoying the sh—Ow! Dammit, Faye.”

 

Mustang turned to face Riker, who kept one hand on his shoulder to steady him “Welcome aboard the United Systems Starship, Enterprise, Colonel Mustang.”

 

“Number One, you and Data escort everyone into the War Room,” Picard said and faced the dark-skinned young man. “Mr. LaForge, you have the Bridge. I'll be in my Ready Room.”

 

“Captain,” Worf said. It was only then that Mustang remembered the rather frightening being that Picard had earlier said was his Security Officer. He was off to the side, apart from everyone else, and still holding Edward's lance. He was also still closely guarding Scar, who no longer looked so much frightened, as hovering on the edge of belligerence. “What do you want me to do with him?”

 

Picard considered the Ishballan a moment, tension setting his jaw. Then, “Bring him.”

 

****

 

Havoc watched the redhead bounce out of the lift as soon as it stopped; and zig-zag down the wide corridor singing some nonsensical song, as her dog tried to keep up with her. He'd survived his first ride in the thing, but he wasn't all that sure it was a mode of transportation he wanted to make a habit of using.

 

It could've been worse, he reasoned, as he followed the Counselor, and greatly appreciated the view. Could've been that big guy taking us. The one piece suit she wore hugged her body and showed every curve; Havoc had absolutely no complaints.

 

She glanced back at him, and smiled as though she'd just heard a good joke, and stopped. “Lieutenant Havoc, I should probably warn you,” she said and gave him another one of those knowing smiles. “I happen to be an empath.”

 

“Empath?” he asked. Then dawn struck, and he felt his face grow very warm. “Er…”

 

She attempted to hide her amusement, but her eyes danced. She walked up to a door, waved a hand and said, “This way, please.”

 

Havoc went in first, turning a bit sideways to get Edward through, and was met by a tall, attractive, redheaded woman.

 

“I'm Doctor Crusher,” she said as she helped him lay Edward down on the exam table.

 

“Goodness,” she added, as she struggled to get a better grip on him. “He's heavier than he looks.”

 

“It's the automail, Doctor,” Havoc said. At her puzzled look, he nodded toward Edward. “His right arm and left leg.”

 

She glanced down and slid up the right sleeve of his black jacket. “I see.” She gently lifted the hand and examined it. “Amazing work. Is it articulated?”

 

Havoc chuckled. “Very much so.”

 

“Brother?”

 

Havoc spun, and felt his knees go weak. He blindly reached out for support from the table, but missed, and scrambled to keep his balance. Al cautiously came up to the table, and the Lieutenant gaped. His mouth kept moving, but no words would come out at first. When he finally found his voice, he grinned and blurted, “Holy shit on a stick!” He reached out, and slapped the armor on the shoulders with both hands, just to make sure it was real.

 

“Lieutenant Havoc, what happened?”

 

“You don't know?”

 

Troi had joined Havoc, and was staring curiously up at the armor. Her brow was furrowed in confusion.

 

“Well,” Alphonse said. “I remember being with you in the temple, and Q pushed me. Next thing I knew, I was here.”

 

Troi glanced up at Havoc, and said, “That's not all that unusual with this type of encounter.”

 

“They don't remember?”

 

She nodded. And Al said, “Remember what? What happened to me?”

 

Havoc patted Al on the shoulder again and said. “It's probably a good thing you don't remember, Chief.” He jerked his head in the direction of the unconscious boy on the table and added. “Right now, I think your brother needs to hear your voice, though.”

 

Crusher glanced up from the small keypad she held in her hand that she'd slowly scanned over Edward. “I'd really like to examine him first, if you don't mind. I want to make sure he's not injured.”

 

Havoc nervously scratched behind his ear and said, “It's not going to do you any good, Doctor.”

 

“Pardon me?”

 

“Uh…” Al stammered, and looked at Havoc. If armor could break out in a nervous sweat, this one would have.

 

Havoc nodded, and said. “It's okay Al. They're friends.”

 

Al bowed politely, then slowly took off the helmet. Crusher took a step back and blinked, but to her credit, her face remained otherwise neutral. She quickly tapped the keypad, then aimed the machine at Al. A moment later, she looked up at Havoc, and said, “The scanner isn't picking up any life signs.”

 

“But… I am alive,” Al said softly.

 

Troi came up beside Al, and lightly brushed his arm. Heartbreak etched her face as she looked up at him. An instant later she blinked, and a curtain of calm fell; she was back to herself. She faced Havoc, a silent question in her eyes.

 

“I believe you, Al,” Crusher said, and smiled warmly. “Forgive me for looking so surprised. We've met many races that don't always show up on our scanners right away.”

 

Havoc pointed to the blood seal inside the armor, and said. “Al's soul is bonded to the armor, Doctor. That's the anchoring point. If that's destroyed in any way…”

 

“I understand,” she said, staring at Al. “Amazing. Every species has questioned the existence of the soul since they first became self-aware, but no one has ever come up with any quantifiable proof that it existed, until now. Al, would you mind terribly if I ran some tests on you after I take care of your brother?”

 

“Yes, Ma'am. Er… No, I don't mind,” he said as he replaced the helmet.

 

There was a low moan from the direction of the table, and everyone turned their attention back to Fullmetal.

 

Al laid a gentle hand on his brother's shoulder and said, “Brother? Nii-san, wake up.”

 

Ed opened his eyes a brief moment, then closed them again. The next instant, they snapped open, and he was on his knees in a flash. “Al? Is it really you?” He gripped his brother's broad shoulders and stared, unbelieving.

 

“Yes, Brother,” Al said, with a slight giggle in his voice. “It's really me.”

 

Ed sat back on his heels. His lips trembled, and his eyes shone with unshed tears. “I thought you'd died,” he whispered. “I saw you—“ He choked, and covered his eyes, but nothing could cover the sound of sobs.

 

Al rested a hand on his brother's shoulder and said, softly. “But I didn't die, Brother. I'm alive, and so are you.”

 

Havoc saw the distress on Troi's face, and gestured away from the boys. Crusher nodded in agreement. “Let's give them a moment,” she said.

 

The three of them moved to the other side of the Sick Bay, and Troi took a deep breath. “I… apologize,” she said, ruefully. She looked up at Havoc and smiled. “Normally I'm quite capable of shielding myself from intense emotion like this, but those boys can be quite… overwhelming.”

 

“Deanna, you don't have to be an empath to feel just how strong the bond is between them,” Crusher said.

 

Havoc looked from one woman to the other. Something in his gut told him he could trust them with the truth, and he had a feeling that they deserved to know. He steeled himself, and said, “That seal inside of Al's armor is Ed's own blood. He used alchemy to save his brother, and gave his arm up as the price.” He saw the stunned expressions on their faces, but no judgment, so he took a deep breath, and went on. “Ed lost his leg, and Al, his body, in an alchemy accident. That's the `official' story. Although, only a handful of people know Al is just a soul anchored to the armor. It's better to keep it that way.

 

“The real story is that was the price exacted for them attempting to resurrect their mother in a transmutation. A taboo on our world.”

 

He looked over at the boys talking quietly. He also noticed the girl hiding under the exam table, holding tight to her dog. There were tears in her eyes, as she stared up at Al. Havoc decided to let her be; she wasn't causing any trouble at the moment. “Ed… Fullmetal, was only about 11, and Alphonse was 10 when they tried to do that.” He faced the two women again. “The fact that they actually lived through it, is a miracle by itself.”

 

“You're protecting them,” Troi said.

 

Havoc nodded. “You bet your sweet ass I am. So is Hughes, and whether Fullmetal believes it or not, so is the Colonel. We'd give our lives to make sure they're safe.”

 

Crusher gently grasped Havoc's arm in a comforting gesture, and said, “As long as they're on the Enterprise, Lieutenant, we'll do everything in our power to protect them, too.”