Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction / Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Once More, With Pirates ❯ Try Honesty ( Chapter 29 )

 

A/N: Another thank you goes to Heist for the song title suggestion. And thank GAWD she's back from her enforced vacation! I could barely write without her on line egging me on.

 

 

Try Honesty

 

Well I tripped, I fell down naked; Well I scratched my knees, they bled; Sew up my eyes, need no more; In our game there is no score - Billy Talent (Billy Talent)

 

It was time for some serious damage control. While he'd spread his pieces out, attempting to gain control of the board, his opponent had snuck in, and set up a devastating move with his queen that would annihilate him. It was simple and elegant, and in four moves, he would lose. All he could hope for at the moment would be to delay the inevitable.

 

He chose to sacrifice a few pawns, gave up trying to control the entire board, and concentrated on several key pieces.

 

His opponent chuckled after he made his last move. “You're becoming desperate,” he said, and moved his queen.

 

He smirked, and moved his favorite pawn closer to the edge of the board.

 

0o0o0

 

Faye was stunned at just how vulnerable the unconscious boy on the table looked close up. Every time she'd seen Edward Elric, he was either scowling or shouting. It was impossible to miss the simple fact that he was short, but she'd never thought of him as… fragile. All the machines connected to him, keeping him in that shadowland of neither life nor death, only served to make him seem even moreso.

 

She was also stunned to discover that his right arm and left leg were prosthetics. She recalled seeing him change that right hand to a short sword, but she just assumed it was something worn over flesh and blood; more like a specialized weapon.

 

Littered through the fresh injuries were silvery lines and red patches of scars from long ago encounters from some opponent or other; telling her this boy had lived a hard life. The most glaring were the angry red and puckered places near the metal port on his right shoulder, and the huge purple bruise in the middle of his chest.

 

Thick lashes rested on fine-boned cheeks that almost hid the shadows around his eyes, and light blonde hair haloed around a face that reminded Faye of the china dolls she'd collected when she was younger. At fifteen, the traces of childhood softness were beginning to fade and the toned muscles underneath were becoming dominant. He was thin, but far from skinny. She could see the adult he would become, and she could only think of him as achingly beautiful; the scars and prosthetics only seemed to add to it. His looks were the kind to cause crushes for women and men alike, and she smirked at the image of this boy beating off suitors with a large bat.

 

She knew that this wasn't what attracted Spike to him, though. There was something that pulled deeply at his soul. The scars told part of the story, but Faye knew there had to be more to Edward Elric than the same reckless abandon for his own life that Spike shared. No one had ever slipped in under his radar and put a death-grip on his heart quite the same way, nor as quickly as he had. Not Jet or Ed, and certainly not her. Faye even doubted that Julia held that honor, although she came close.

 

She thought back on what little she'd observed of the people who had anything to do with him, but no answers were forthcoming there. People liked him, respected him, loved him; but she hadn't seen anything to tell her why. He was either very brave, or incredibly reckless, and he loved his brother deeply. He took great pleasure in annoying Mustang, and didn't quite know how to act around women yet. He was brash, obnoxious, and loud… especially when pissed.

 

He was a typical teenaged boy on the surface.

 

“Faye?”

 

She started and turned to the voice. A lanky figure was silhouetted in the light of the open door, but she didn't need to see his face to know who it was. As he stepped further in, the door slid shut behind him; shrouding him in darkness.

 

“What are you doing here?”

 

She waited until he came closer; until his face was illuminated by the machines that were keeping the boy in front of her alive. She didn't realize that she'd been holding her breath until it came out in a relieved sigh. Spike's brow was knitted in confusion, but he wasn't angry or even annoyed. She felt guilty though; like she'd stepped on sacred ground.

 

She was silent for a long while, staring at Spike and then looking down at Edward as she searched for the reason she was there. She finally had to admit to herself that she honestly didn't know. Q had said she could save his life with the reactivated nanomachines within her, but she could just go talk to the ship's doctor for that.

 

Commander Riker had asked her if she was jealous of Spike's relationship to the boy, and a tiny voice asked her the same thing. She had to admit she was very curious, maybe even a little envious; but she wouldn't wish death on him. If her blood would save him, it was hardly a problem to give it. And he was just a kid; not some sleaze beyond redemption.

 

“Faye?” Spike asked. “Are you okay?”

 

She looked up at him and stammered out a whispered apology.

 

As she stepped past him to leave, she felt his hand on her arm. “Not this time,” Spike said gently.

 

She didn't try to pull away, but she didn't look at him either. She felt him turn to her and waited. “Why are you here?” he asked again.

 

“I—“ she started, then changed her mind. “What… what did he do?” she asked, finally.

 

Spike let go of her arm, and she felt him move away from her; closer to Edward. “He fell about 20 feet into a lake full of contaminated water.”

 

“No,” she said, and turned to look at him. He was staring down at the boy, but not really looking at him. He had a far-away look. She wondered if he knew his lips were pulled down and that his lashes were trembling. “What did he do… to you.”

 

Spike's head shot up and his brows furrowed as he thought about it. A moment later, they crawled up his forehead and his usual smirk appeared. “Damned if I know,” he said.

 

“What's so special about him?” she asked. There was no bitterness in the question. No jealousy.

 

“Aside from the obvious?” Spike asked. He looked back down at Edward, and shook his head.

 

When nothing else was forthcoming, Faye stepped closer to him and took a chance. “You never did tell me about that.”

 

Spike looked at her questioningly. She smiled slightly and nodded at the still form below them. “How you two met. What happened to you and Jet.”

 

He smirked. “It was weird. Like something out of a movie.” His hands slipped into his pockets, and he rocked back on his heels as he stared off into the distance; remembering.

 

For the first time that Faye could remember, Spike talked. Really talked. He left behind the usual sarcastic asides and cryptic comments, and wove a story of adventure that she almost regretted missing.

 

There were no deep revelations, there was no angst; that wasn't Spike, after all. It was just a retelling of the incidents as they happened. But what he didn't say told her as much as what he did say; perhaps more. It was all in his tone; his expression.

 

As she listened, she felt something shift inside of her. Like a membrane that had been pricked and slowly torn, a certain clarity filled her. She realized two things, then. Whether Spike would admit it or not, he loved this boy. Edward had become a brother in a way neither Vicious nor Jet ever could. And she also realized that she had been jealous.

 

Not of their friendship; but because Spike had left her out of it. Jet had been there with him; he already shared this. She knew then it was hurt she felt. That hurt shamed her, and she'd tried to keep it hidden the entire time they'd been on the Enterprise.

 

She also felt a surge of anger on top of it. Not only had he not told her about this before, but he didn't bother to tell her after they'd been yanked out of their own universe and dumped here. He was going to, but there had been an oh-so-convenient interruption, and it wasn't until she asked him that he finally told her. If she didn't know better, she would have sworn he planned that interruption.

 

She stared down at Edward without really seeing him, and considered everything that had happened recently. Jet was in on it. He didn't talk about it, either, she thought. Would I have believed them, though? She knew the answer to that question. She didn't know the answer to her other one, though. So why didn't either of them fill me in after we got here?

 

It had seemed to her that the moment all the shouting was over with, both of them took off for parts unknown, taking up where they left off with these people. They no longer had a moment to spare for her. They didn't even include her.

 

She knew that line of thought was childish, but she didn't care. It hurt.

 

Spike broke through her thoughts with one word. “Sorry.”

 

Faye blinked, and looked up at him. “Wha—“

 

He tilted his head, curious. A smirk tugged at his lips, and he said, “Damn, Faye. You're not rising to the bait? When was the last time you had any sleep?”

 

She suddenly felt the tension drain from her and hands that she hadn't realized were clenched, relaxed. She wouldn't ask him to repeat what he'd just said. She knew he'd deny it anyway. But he apologized openly. Coming from Spike, that was a lot. For Faye, it was enough.

 

She slowly reached out, and gently laid her hand on Edward's bruised chest. She was tired, but she wanted to talk to Dr Crusher, first. “Q reactivated the nanomachines in me, Spike.”

 

She felt him stiffen next to her, but she didn't look up.

 

“He did what?” His whisper had a dangerous tone to it.

 

She felt him grasp her shoulders and jerk her around. When she met his eyes, she saw confusion, and a little bit of fear in them.

 

“Why?” he asked. “What game is he playing with you?”

 

She swallowed, and shook her head. “I—I don't know. He said they'd save Ed.”

 

Spike looked down at the still form on the bed, and she did too. It was then she saw the blood-smear on his chest. Where her hand had been. Spike grabbed her wrist and yanked it up. On her palm was another blood-smear, and four new moon-shaped marks that were rapidly fading.

 

His eyes went wide. “Oh, shit,” he whispered.

 

At that moment, the panel over Ed's head that had been tracking his vitals set off an alarm. His eyes snapped open and rolled back, and his entire body seized hard enough to arch his back off the bed. Spike shoved Faye out of his way, and held Edward's shoulders down on the bed while as he began to convulse. “Get the Doctor,” he said.

 

Faye backed up a few steps, and froze. Spike's head snapped around, and he opened his mouth to say something, but was stopped when the door opened, and Crusher ran in, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes; closely followed by two assistants. She squeezed in next to Spike, but didn't make him move as she pulled a hand-held scanner from her pocket.

 

As soon as she flipped it open, Edward stopped convulsing and seemed to settle back into his coma. The furrowed brow on Crusher's face told a different story, though.

 

“Doctor?” Spike said, alarmed at the look, and her silence.

 

She shook her head. “His organs are… repairing themselves.” She adjusted the sensitivity on the scanner, and scowled. “This doesn't make…” Her brows shot up, and she looked at Spike. “He has nanites in his system.” Spike stared at Faye; she stared down at her palm.

 

The air started to feel tight, and there was a low, subliminal hum. Crusher looked around listening, as did her assistants. Spike was looking down at Edward, though.

 

“Get down,” he said, softly.

 

The last thing Faye saw before she was slammed against the bulkhead was Spike as he threw Dr Crusher to the floor; right before a cyclone of light burst from Edward Elric's chest.

 

0o0o0

 

He set the pawn down at the end of the board, and smirked. A small victory.

 

“Ahhh,” his opponent said. “Lovely move. Which piece do you want to retrieve?”

 

Silently, he reached over to his opponent's side of the board, where his `dead soldiers' were all lined up, waiting. He had already made his decision long ago which piece he wanted back, and picked it up.

 

“Your rook?” his opponent asked. “I thought that was one of your least favorite pieces.”

 

He set the piece on the board, and said, “I find I'm developing a fondness for this piece after all.” He smiled. “There is something to be said about straightforwardness.”

 

“Changing your spots at this late date, Old Friend?”

 

“Who? Me?” He smirked. “Of course not.”