Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction / Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Once More, With Pirates ❯ Paint it, Black ( Chapter 21 )

A/N: Oh, my! I can see the lynchings being planned now.

 

 

Paint it, Black

 

No more will my green sea go turn a deeper blue; I could not foresee this thing happening to you. If I look hard enough into the settin' sun; My love will laugh with me before the mornin' comes - Rolling Stones (The Singles Collection: The London Years)

 

 

Fullmetal had been brought out of exhausted sleep by the pounding in his head. As he was dragged kicking and screaming toward consciousness, he came to realize that the pounding noise was outside of him. Too bad it seemed to be right in rhythm with the throbbing of the incredible headache he had. As he climbed a few more levels to alertness, he also realized that his head was resting on a narrow surface only slightly softer than the concrete, but a lot warmer. It felt good against his throbbing temple, and he pondered rolling over so the other side could enjoy the warmth.

 

He moved slowly, feeling aches in places he didn't know he had, and made it as far as his back when he opened his eyes and blinked to focus. He stared up into the face of Spike, who was at least upright and propped against the wall.

 

He couldn't recall how they'd moved from the edge of the reservoir to the wall of the chamber and could only assume Spike had moved him when he was unconscious. He realized just how wiped out the man was at that point. His skin was pale, and looked almost blue except for where the blood from a cut on his cheek had dried.

 

Fullmetal noticed that the man's breathing was at least strong and steady, and figured he was probably asleep, rather than comatose. Suddenly, sleep sounded like a wonderful idea again, and he let his eyes slide closed. He didn't even care that he was using Spike's thigh as a pillow; although the idea of rolling over to press warmth into the other temple died. That was just not a direction he wanted to be facing when his friend woke up.

 

“Sounds like someone's trying to get through to us,” Spike said, startling Fullmetal from the pleasant buzz that was growing in his head, and pulling him down into sleep. It took a moment for comprehension to catch up, then his eyes snapped open, and he attempted to sit up. Something was stopping him though, and after a moment's confusion, he realized Spike was holding him down.

 

“Slowly, shrimp. Dry heaves hurt.”

 

The boy wanted to go ballistic over the `shrimp' comment, but he just couldn't screw up the energy, and all that came out instead was, “Huh?”

 

Spike's eyes never opened, but a smirk pulled on his lips. “Damn, you are in bad shape,” he said. “Don't move too fast. It'll throw your equilibrium off, and you'll try to puke your guts out. Since you already did that earlier, there's nothing left. You'll just heave, and that shit hurts like hell.”

 

Fullmetal brought his left hand up, and rested it on his pounding head but remained lying on Spike's thigh. “Thanks for the lesson, Colonel Obvious. But I already know what dry heaves are.”

 

“Heh. You didn't sound like it a second ago.”

 

“Jeeze,” Fullmetal groaned. “There should be a law against kicking a guy when he's down.”

 

“Best way to make sure he stays down,” Spike said.

 

“Spike?”

 

“Hmmm?”

 

“Kiss my ass.”

 

Spike chuckled, and looked down at the boy. “I'm sure your ass is real cute and all; but I'll pass.”

 

Fullmetal started to come back with a snappy remark, but the words died in his throat. Something looked a bit off in Spike's eyes. Enough that it concerned him. “Did you hit your head or something?”

 

The older man cocked a brow. “Why? Because I won't kiss your ass? I'm starting to wonder about you, Ed.”

 

Fullmetal growled, and slowly sat up. “No, asshole—“ It was not slow enough. The boy felt the world spinning at high speed around him, and he thought for certain his stomach was trying to jump up through his throat. He moaned and felt Spike's strong hands on his shoulders, supporting him.

 

“Breathe, Ed. It'll pass in a minute.”

 

After a few minutes, Spike helped him shift and lean back. He rested his head against the wall with his eyes closed as the spinning slowed. “Well?”

 

“What? My head?” Spike asked. He leaned back and shut his eyes a moment. “Nah.” He glanced at the boy out of the corner of his eye. “Let me guess. You noticed the eyes, right?”

 

Fullmetal nodded slightly, and immediately regretted it.

 

“One of them's a fake.” He closed his eyes again. “I lost it in an accident.” He smiled a little, but kept his eyes closed. “I used to think that I only saw patches of reality because of it. I saw the past through one eye, and the present in the other.”

 

Fullmetal wasn't sure what to say to that. He laid his head back against the wall and stared up at the distant roof of the chamber. He listened to the muted banging of the rescue team and wished they'd hurry; the constant rhythm was making his headache worse.

 

Spike sighed, and asked, “You feeling well enough to remember something for me?”

 

“Sure.”

 

He felt the man's eyes on him, and he turned to him. The look was intense, urgent. “Remember what I just told you when you get back home. Word for word.”

 

The boy snorted, and stared back up at the chamber roof. “Hell, if you want a warning, I'll just tell you all about it.”

 

“Don't!” Spike said so sharply that Fullmetal jerked his head around to look at him. “I don't know what the hell this Q character is; but I know he's beyond anything we can imagine. I don't think he'd take too kindly to you stacking the deck against him that way.”

 

“You think he's… a God?”

 

Spike shook his head. “I dunno. Maybe. I know he's a lot more powerful than any of us are.” He pulled off his left glove, and said. “Promise me you won't tell me any more than that.”

 

“Sure, whatever,” the boy said, then yawned lustily. He stretched his arms over his head, and felt his left one yanked back down. He shot Spike a glare that shifted quickly to confusion when he saw that the man was deadly serious.

 

“I know you don't believe in any God, Ed. But you do believe in honor and keeping your word.” He bent Fullmetal's left arm up and turned his palm toward him. Then he held up his own left hand, and showed him. “What do you see?”

 

The boy's brows knitted. “You have a scar on your hand. I don't. So?”

 

“How much do you trust me right now?”

 

Fullmetal blinked at the sudden change of direction, and thought about it. He suddenly realized that he trusted the man completely. He never had to think about it when Spike was around, he just knew he'd have his back. He knew, without a shadow of doubt that he would never have to look over his shoulder to see if the man was there covering him, even though it had never come up. It felt as natural to him as knowing Al would be backing him up.

 

Right on the heels of that realization, he knew that Spike trusted him just as much. There was no question, no discussion. Just pure, complete trust. And the boy knew the man didn't give it away blindly.

 

“I trust you as much as you trust me, Spike.”

 

The man nodded, and gave him a genuine smile. “You're gunna make it home alive. So is your brother, Hughes, Havoc, and…” he smirked, “even Mustang. No matter what happens, remember that.” He inclined his head at their left palms. “And you're going to keep that promise to me. Because you're going to take that blood oath when you get back.”

 

Spike dropped Fullmetal's hand, and leaned back against the wall. He shifted his legs, and hissed painfully. The boy leaned forward gingerly. He clapped and then held out his hands, “Can you bring your leg here?”

 

Spike gave him a puzzled look, then laced his fingers behind his knee, and lifted his leg. He hissed again when he let go, and the injured ankle rested in the boy's hands. Blue light sparked around the ankle, and a good, solid splint formed.

 

Fullmetal carefully laid the leg back down. “This should at least give that ankle some support,” he said, as he fell back against the wall. Just that little bit of alchemy seemed to completely drain him. He closed his eyes to the wavery blur his vision was becoming, and winced at the sound of a screeching whine overhead.

 

Silence echoed through the chamber then, and Spike muttered, “Shit. Sounds like something broke.”

 

“Mmmm,” Fullmetal said and rubbed at his nose. The humidity in the chamber was high, and moisture was everywhere. It had even started tickling his nose and ears. The back of his throat itched too, and somewhere in the back of his mind, he wondered if he was going to develop the cough from all the red water the people in Xenotime did.

 

For the moment, he didn't care. There was a soothing buzz building in his head, and he felt like getting some sleep. In fact, he couldn't resist it. A warm, comforting numbness washed over him as the buzzing reached a level that made him think of cicadas in the summer, and he gave into it. He slumped over against Spike's shoulder, and the last thing he heard before sweet, black oblivion washed over him was Spike screaming his name.

 

0o0o0

 

 

Alphonse nearly had the tunnel cleared, and was drawing the circle for the last little bit when he heard Spike scream his brother's name. The anguish in that sound froze the boy, and caused him to jerk the chalk. As quickly as he could, he drew another one, and slapped it, clearing the final bits of debris. He looked out and down in horror, as he saw Spike cradling his brother over a pool of dark red… twenty feet below him.

 

The man shot a look up, and even from that distance, Alphonse could see the fear and horror on his face. “Al! Hurry the fuck up! Your bother's dying!”

 

Alphonse turned and drew a new circle just outside the tunnel, and slapped it, but not before he saw Spike lurch to his feet with his brother in his arms. Blue light burst from the array, and formed stairs that had hardly become solid, before Spike was rapidly limping up them. As soon as he reached the top, Al took Fullmetal from his arms, and ran out of the tunnel to triage.

 

Everything after that was a blur to him. All he saw was the blood. So much blood from his brother. And he seemed so tiny in the huge armored arms; he always seemed so much bigger than life any other time. And triage seemed to be forever in the distance, as he ran. And memories of a rainy night that was forever etched into his soul slammed back into him with a clarity that was agonizing. He couldn't let his brother die, he couldn't!

 

And then he was in triage, and Dr Crusher was with him, and Worf caught up to him, and he heard the Doctor order his brother beamed onto the ship right away, and someone was trying to guide him away, but he wasn't about to leave his brother's side, not now. Not ever. But he couldn't use the transporters because of the blood seal in the armor, but he was willing to risk it, if it meant he could stay close to Nii-san, but they wouldn't let him, and he was horribly afraid that by the time the shuttle got back to the ship, it would be too late, and next thing he knew was he heard Dr. Crusher saying “Four to beam directly to sick bay,” and he was going to be left behind. And Lieutenant Havoc was there, pulling on him and telling him to hurry up, the shuttle was ready, and he saw his brother disappear in a column of sparkling light…

 

“Nii-san…”

 

“Let's move, Chief!” Havoc yelled, and Alphonse ran after him to the shuttle.