Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction / Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction ❯ Once More, With Pirates ❯ Madness to the Method ( Chapter 31 )

 

A/N: Heh. Yanno, for once, I don't have anything to say. Go figure.

 

 

Madness to the Method

 

A rock through a window never comes with a kiss. Rhyme and a reason never argue with a fist. There's a time for discussion and a time for a fight. It's the time in the season for a maniac at night. - Blue Oyster Cult (Club Ninja)

 

When Alphonse Elric knew anything again, it was the realization that he was still bound to a suit of armor. For once it was a relief; and he'd gladly stay this way forever if it meant he'd never have to feel the terror of his soul being shredded into a million tiny ribbons again.

 

A dark face hove into view and slowly became clearer. The eyes were hidden, but the normally bright smile that Geordi wore was gone. In its place was a tightness etched with real worry. “Al? Hey? You still with us, buddy?”

 

He tried to say something, but he could only manage a moan. He knew he was still bound to the armor, but there was a feeling of being disconnected. Like he was floating free within the suit, rather than being a part of it. Instinctively, he focused on the blood seal, and that feeling of disconnectedness started to fade.

 

As the feeling of being anchored grew stronger, the thought that what had happened seemed very familiar grew with it. “I think I'm okay,” he said to Geordi after a long moment. “What happened?”

 

The engineer smiled, but the concern on his face didn't entirely fade away. “Your guess is as good as mine, Al. An energy wave swept through the ship, but didn't have any effect on anyone but the alchemists.”

 

The armor rattled at that, and then Alphonse knew what that familiar feeling was. If he could have felt his blood turn to ice, he would have.

 

Al was as mystified as anyone else how a suit of armor could possibly express emotion without a word, but something in the way he reacted made Geordi's expression snap back to worried. “What is it, Al?”

 

“Rebound,” he moaned.

 

He struggled to get his feet under him, but the feeling of disconnectedness hadn't completely faded, and he couldn't control the armor as well as he wished. “Nii-san,” he whispered.

 

He realized that Geordi has holding him down, then; and with some dismay, he also realized that it wasn't taking much for the engineer to do so.

 

“Take it easy, Al. Your brother's fine.”

 

“But—“

 

“No buts,” Geordi said. “You just did a damn good imitation of a Van de Graaf, and you're probably still a little short circuited.”

 

“But—“

 

“I can make it an order.”

 

Alphonse slumped with a frustrated groan, and Geordi's smile returned. “Now, are you listening?” he asked.

 

“Yes, Sir,” Al said, meekly.

 

“Your brother is fine, Al,” he repeated carefully. “Sickbay just called and told me he's awake. Completely healed.”

 

Al became very still while this digested. “H… healed?”

 

Geordi chuckled low, and shook his head. “Oh, yeah. He apparently woke up in a foul mood, too. Dr. Crusher said he was ranting about anything he could find to rant about.”

 

Al giggled. “Brother always wakes up in a bad mood.” He relaxed, and leaned back against the console. His brother was alive, and healed. He figured that he could spare a few minutes to get his control completely back before seeing him, now. There was only one thing nagging at the back of his mind, now.

 

“Uh, Geordi?” he said. “What's a Van de Graaf?”

 

Before Geordi had a chance to explain, Alphonse was nearly bowled over by an incredible force that blindsided him from the right. Fear of a repeat performance of a few minutes ago shot through him as he scrambled to catch the helm before it flew off to parts unknown. His fear quickly dissipated when he heard a sing-song voice right next to him, though. “Static charge, really large. Crackle, snap with just a tap. Al's back!”

 

He giggled and put the helm back on. “Hi Edward. I'm glad to see you too.”

 

0o0o0

 

“Faye, will you just relax and enjoy it?” Spike said, as he wrestled with the woman on the bed.

 

She tried to squirm out of his grip, but he wasn't about to let go. “With you watching me? No! That's just damned creepy.”

 

He almost lost her, but managed to flip her back down, and spoon up against her back. He flopped a leg down over hers, wrapped an arm around her waist, and then held on for the ride. “Jeeze! It's not that big of a deal, and you need this. Can't you give in just this once?”

 

Faye stopped squirming, much to Spike's relief, and glared back over her shoulder at him. “You need it too, you know.”

 

“So I'll do it with you,” he said, and then yawned lustily.

 

Her eyes narrowed, and her whole face started to twitch as she attempted to suppress her own yawn. The battle was lost in short order. With a huff, she rolled back over and mumbled, “Asshole.”

 

Spike smiled into her hair, then closed his eyes. As he breathed in her scent, and felt her relax into sleep, he kept telling himself that it was just as a favor. He was only holding on to her because he wanted to make sure she got some sleep; and he was certain if he left her to her own devices, she'd be pacing the room. Nothing more. In fact, he wasn't enjoying this at all. He'd much rather be in his own bed, where he had the freedom to flop around, and spread out. Besides, he preferred to sleep in the nude. Clothing was just too constricting.

 

And he wasn't happy about her saving Ed, either. Well, he was glad Ed was going to be alright, but not thrilled about Faye's manner of doing it. In fact, she caused more trouble than it was worth, with her bleeding all over the boy, and causing him to expel energy like that. She could've made matters worse, dammit. God, or whatever, only knows what kind of trouble that caused around the ship. It certainly messed up all the alchemists on board for a few minutes. Fortunately there didn't seem to be any lasting effects on Alphonse.

 

Spike suppressed a snicker at the thought of what Mustang's reaction might've been. Too bad I didn't get to see that one, he thought as he finally drifted off to sleep.

 

0o0o0

 

Edward Elric was starting to get very sick of seeing the inside of sickbay. It wasn't fair! After all, he felt perfectly fine. Just because he damn near died, and was in a coma on life support didn't mean he wasn't fine now.

 

He sat on the exam table with his right leg dangling off the side and his left elbow on his thigh, propping his chin on his fist. Scowling. The thought of sneaking off while Dr. Crusher's back was turned had crossed his mind; but there were two problems with that. One, she hadn't given him back his clothes (although she at least gave him a pair of shorts); and two, she hadn't given him back his limbs, either.

 

“Sadist,” he mumbled.

 

From across the room, she glanced back at him, and raised a brow. “I'll release you soon, Edward. I promise,” she said.

 

“When? After I outgrow my automail?” he grumbled.

 

“I seriously doubt that will happen in the near future,” said a voice that managed to set Fullmetal's teeth on edge just from the sound of it; not to mention the `short' reference.

 

He ground his teeth, and gave Mustang a narrow-eyed glare as he came the rest of the way into Sick Bay. “Don't you have anyone else to harass, Colonel Useless?”

 

As Mustang stopped at the exam table, he smirked down at the boy, only making him more annoyed. “I suppose I could,” he said thoughtfully. “But I understand your partner-in-crime is asleep.”

 

It was Edward's turn to smirk. “You in that much of a hurry to get your ass kicked again?”

 

The only response he got to that was the arrogant arching of a brow.

 

Edward snorted and turned to the approaching doctor. She positioned a case next to the table, and his eyes lit up. “I don't think my automail's looked that good since Winry built it.”

 

Crusher smiled and said, “You can thank Geordi when he gets here.”

 

While she set up the instruments needed to reattach the limbs, Mustang moved around the bed and looked at them with great interest. “I understand he got inside and worked on the mechanisms while he was cleaning it up.”

 

“Of course,” Crusher said. “Geordi would never let something like this out of his sight without going through every millimeter and making sure it was working perfectly.” She smiled at Edward. “He has a reputation to protect, after all.”

 

Fullmetal grinned. “Just like Winry.” He looked back down at the automail, and asked, “What exactly did he do to it?”

 

Crusher picked up a data pad, and tapped a few keys. “Well, he repaired quite a few stress-fractures and metal faults.” At Ed's startled noise, she glanced at him and smiled. “Don't worry. They were very tiny. He only found them with our instruments, and they most likely wouldn't have given you any problems for quite some time. Geordi is just very thorough.” She looked back down at the data pad, and read on. “The bearings and gears were remachined to closer tolerances; and it looks like he reinforced the areas that sustain the most impact, while making it about 15% lighter.” She read a little further, and her smile broadened. “He has an addendum here. Apparently he decided to blend a few alloys to the top of the forearm. Specifically titanium; along with other trace elements.”

 

At his questioning look, Crusher handed him the data pad, and said, “Titanium is a memory metal, to put it simply. You can bend it, twist it, and it will snap back to its original shape without the stresses you'd get with other metals. It's also lighter, and able to handle impact better.”

 

Fullmetal gave her a wicked grin. “Sounds good.” The expression disappeared as soon as he saw her set a cylindrical object along side the rest of the tools that looked suspiciously like it could be a shot. “What is that?”

 

“It's just a local anesthetic,” she said. She met his eyes, and smiled. “No needles, either.”

 

“I don't need it,” he said. His look had become hard-edged and determined.

 

Crusher's brows shot up. “Attaching that automail is a very painful process Edward. It connects to each one of your ner—“

 

“I know how it works, Doctor. I've been through the process more times than you can count. But the answer is still no. No anesthetic.”

 

“Don't tell me the mighty Fullmetal Alchemist is afraid of a little shot,” Mustang teased.

 

The look Edward shot Mustang was cold with a tightly set jaw. “Can't exactly use my limbs if they're numb, can I Colonel?”

 

Mustang raised his brows, and gave Edward a slight smile. “Touché.”

 

Fullmetal's jaw dropped.

 

Geordi chose that moment to arrive, and Fullmetal's whole face brightened when he saw his brother right on the engineer's heels. A moment later, the other Edward arrived with her dog bouncing circles around her. A look of mischief crossed Fullmetal's face. “Looks like you have a shadow, Al.”

 

If armor could sweat and blush, Alphonse would have. He rubbed nervously at the back of the neck-guard on his armor, and fidgeted.

 

As Crusher and Geordi were setting up to reattach the automail, the engineer said, “Actually, she's here for another reason.” He looked over at Crusher and said, “Ed and Alphonse broke the codes in the complex records.”

 

“Oh?” Crusher said, suddenly very interested.

 

Fullmetal grinned up at his brother. “Way to go, Al.”

 

“Uh…” Al fidgeted even more at that. “Actually, Ed did most of the work, I just confirmed what she found.”

 

A look passed between both Edwards. His was impressed, hers was a confident `was-there-any-doubt' grin.

 

Geordi suddenly became serious, as he said to Crusher, “Your suspicions seem to be right, Doc.”

 

“I was afraid of that,” she said.

 

Geordi gave the automail leg a last once-over, and positioned it in the port. “I've already reported to the Captain on this,” he said. He stopped, and looked up. “It's no longer just a clean-up and rescue operation.”

 

Crusher seated the arm into its own port. “It's become an official investigation.” She passed a glance back at Geordi. “I expected that as soon as Jet and Will found that… I'm not even sure what to call it… down in the complex lab.”

 

Fullmetal listened to the conversation with intense interest. His eyes met Mustang's as the Colonel took up a place at the foot of the table. Fullmetal wasn't worried that he was hearing anything that was need-to-know. They wouldn't be discussing it in front of him if it were. But from the looks on their faces, and the tones in their voices, he was becoming very curious. “What's going on?”

 

“I'll fill you in once we have your limbs reattached, Ed,” Geordi said. “But it looks like that lab on the planet has been using alchemy for genetic manipulation.”

 

“Among other things,” Mustang said.

 

Fullmetal narrowed his eyes in suspicion at Mustang. “You know what's going on down there?”

 

“Well, if you hadn't been so busy trying to get yourself killed, you would know as well, Fullmetal.”

 

“Yeah? Well at least I was doing something. I heard all you did was stand around and look pretty. And as soon as Geordi fills me in, I'll be back down there, doing something.”

 

Geordi and Crusher slipped their tools into the connectors, and Geordi said, “Ready in three…”

 

Mustang smirked. “You won't be going much of anywhere for awhile, Fullmetal. Not with the ruckus you raised when you came out of that coma.”

 

“What?” Fullmetal wasn't sure exactly what that tone was, but he certainly didn't like the sound of it.

 

“Two…”

 

“That rebound effect you threw off disrupted the entire ship. Caused system problems, injured crew members…”

 

Fullmetal's jaw dropped again. If what he was hearing was correct, it sounded like he was being charged with assault and property damage. And it didn't sound like Mustang was able to smooth things over, this time.

 

“One…”

 

“…set off the red alert, affected all the alchemists on board; including your brother.” Fullmetal flicked a startled glance at his brother, then back to the Colonel. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. It wasn't like he had any control over the situation.

 

“Mark.”

 

“What the bloody he-- YYYYEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHH!” The instant the automail connected to his nerves, it felt like he was on fire. Black spots swam in front of his eyes, and he broke out in a cold sweat. He gasped and panted in an effort to keep from passing out; there was no way in hell he was about to faint like some wimp in front of Mustang. No way, no how… uh-uh! He would rather let Lust peel him like a grape while he was immersed in a vat of salt water… or drink milk. Anything but let Mustang see him pass out.

 

The raging agony quickly dulled down to an ache; and Fullmetal rubbed at his shoulder. His head was down, but his eyes came up to glare at Mustang. His jaw tensed at the infuriating smirk the Colonel wore. “Are you saying that I'm being charged with assault and destruction, Bastard Colonel?” he asked through gritted teeth. He barely noticed when Geordi and Crusher took a cautious step back away from him. “Even though I was unconscious?” He came off the table, and rounded on Mustang, fisting the front of his shirt. “Are you saying I'm in trouble for something that was entirely out of my goddamned control?”

 

“Brother,” Al said in a warning tone.

 

Fullmetal shot a glare at his brother and said, “No, Al. Not this time.”

 

His eyes came back to the Colonel, and he blinked. It took a moment for the signal of what his eyes saw and his ears heard to poke through the haze of anger, to translate into something coherent that his brain could understand. There was an expression on Mustang's face Fullmetal couldn't recall ever seeing before, and a strange sound burbling up that the boy was certain he'd never heard from the normally cool and controlled Colonel.

 

Mustang was… laughing.

 

It was suddenly very clear to Fullmetal what had just happened. He released the Colonel's shirt, and took a stunned step back. He didn't know if he should be relieved, or even more pissed; but one thing was certain, he knew that Roy Mustang, the Bastard Colonel, was as full of shit as a holiday goose.

 

 

He glared at Mustang for a solid minute, then growled, “I hate you.” He turned on his heel and stomped to the other room for his clothes. Silence hung heavy in the main room, and it was only a moment before Fullmetal came stomping back out, dressed except for the jacket that was clenched tightly in an automail fist.

 

He stopped in front of Mustang and wagged a finger under his nose. “I have assessments coming up, Colonel. Don't think I'll forget this.”

 

“I'm looking forward to it.”

 

With that, Fullmetal headed for the door.

 

“Brother, wait,” Al said.

 

Fullmetal waved a hand and said, “Give your report to the Doctor, Al. I'm getting something to eat.”

 

Just as he was about to make his escape from the confines of sickbay, he heard Mustang call him back. “Fullmetal.”

 

The boy spun, still pissed. “What?!”

 

To his amazement, Mustang's face softened into a genuine smile. “Welcome back,” he said, softly.

 

Any residual anger Fullmetal felt fled at that moment. His brows shot up in surprise, and then a smile spread across his face. “Glad to be back,” he responded. Then his brows knit over gold eyes gone intense, and the smile showed a bit of fang. “But I'll still see you at my next assessment.”

 

 

0o0o0

 

It had been two hours since the wave of energy that burst from the Fullmetal Alchemist had reached the planet's surface; including the underground lab. In that time, systems that had previously been silent started to coming to life. One by one, panels once dark would light up in stages.

 

A subliminal hum gently vibrated throughout the lab, and the vat below the floor gradually filled once more. And in the center of the lab, the enormous ring of DNA and technology twitched once, then was still.

 

On the floor of the lab, a small form moaned softly. McKenna raised her head slightly. Blearily, she coughed and spat a gobbet of blood-tinged mucus, then fell unconscious again.