Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Departure ❯ Confrontation ( Chapter 4 )

Departure IV

 

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist does not belong to me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all, and no insult was meant to the original creators or work.

Pairings: Eventual Roy/Ed, others mentioned

A/N: Written for shit and giggles, like much of my other writing. I'm glad people are enjoying this. Thank you all for reading and following so far, I hope to finish this.

 

 

Ironically it was the sound of his own head colliding with the wood of Mustang's desk that gave him away.

“Who's… there?”

Ed winced- both from the sharp pain in his skull and from the slurring in Mustang's voice. He knew the sound of metal on flesh very well, and that Gran wore a metal gauntlet. He also realized, with a sinking in the pit of his stomach, that there was no way for him to get out now. If he made a hole in the floor, Mustang would immediately know who it was and if he just stayed there, he might get roasted.

“Come out… slowly. Hands where… I can… see them.”

Cursing softly, Ed raised his hands, and emerged from underneath the desk to slowly turn to face the Colonel.

The man was in sorry shape.

That Mustang, whose hand was out and ready to snap, would be staring at him with this lost expression, his face already starting to swell and his jaw at an awkward angle… Blood was dribbling from his split lip.

Ed winced. That jaw had to be dislocated.

“Fur- Fullmetal?”

Lost eyes, dead eyes… Ed hated those eyes. The bastard was freezing up, his hand locked in place.

“Colonel.” Ah, dammit. They could scream at each other once he stopped bleeding. Walking over carefully, his eyes drifted over the man's form. His uniform was rumpled, and the blood had left dark spots on the bright blue. He looked a far cry from his normal polish.

Fullmetal fought down a flood of homicidal rage at Basque Gran, for even thinking about hitting the Colonel. It was like damaging a sculpture or defacing a painting, to hurt that pretty face.

Dammit- where the fuck had that come from? Now not only did he have to wonder why the world was off its axis he had to deal with his own impending insanity!

Then again, maybe he should deal with Mustang first…

“What the hell are you doing here?”

Ed would normally have taken offence, but he was paying more attention to the fact that Roy couldn't get his words out completely.

“I was coming to kick your ass for information- but I think I've got that now,” Ed admitted, barely a step away from the man. He carefully put his automail fingers on Mustang's hand, forcing it down- then brought his flesh hand up to feel along Mustang's jaw.

“Who are you and what have you done with- oww…”

“It's not broken,” Edward muttered, still carefully feeling it. He'd dealt with his own broken bones often enough before. “But-“

He moved quickly, or Mustang would have dodged- and bitch slapped the jaw back into place.

There was a resounding crack and curse, both of them disgustingly satisfying sounds to Ed. How long had he wanted to do that very thing..?

“FUCK!”

Then again…

“What the- you could have been more gentle, pipsqueak!”

Ed snarled. “WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT HE COULDN'T DECK YOU IN THE FACE WITHOUT A STEPSTOOL?”

Mustang's expression edged from lost to hint at mischief. “I don't need to insult you when you do such a good job yourself.”

Ed stopped, and then stomped towards the door. He stomped out the door and down the hall. He stomped out the door, down the hall, and to the restroom where a sharp clap could be heard.

Mustang's face was blank but his body screamed confusion when Edward returned, carrying an icepack.

“Don't get any ideas, Colonel Bastard,” he said, more to remind himself than anything else. “I'm going to get all those answers out of you but I can't do that if you can't use your mouth!”

Mustang blinked again- like he had never considered Ed might do something halfway considerate.

“Hey, you…”

“I know, you're an adult, the Great Fullmetal Alchemist, Hero of the People-“

“Don't say that,” Ed snapped. “I'm no one's fuckin' hero. No more than you! What the hell was Gran talking about? What do you know about the red stone?” He gently applied the icepack to Roy's face.

Mustang was quiet as Ed slowly moved it back and forth, and they stared at each other. “Why did you send us on wild goose chases if you knew something?”

There was silence for several moments as Roy's eyes focused on his face, frowning despite the ache in his jaw. Ed nearly bared his teeth in response- but he kept the icepack in place.

Fullmetal's emotions were mixed and torn as his eyes locked with Mustang's. On the one hand…

He was well and truly pissed.

He had conclusive proof that Mustang knew something about the Philosopher's Stone. The ass wipe was sending them on pointless missions and rumors just to jerk their chains. The military knew about the Stone, and was actively trying to create it. That they knew the secret of creating it, and that…

That it would mean selling his soul, for whatever reason.

This was where he became confused. Gran had confirmed that they knew of the Stone, but hinted about something dark and terrible, and that all that stood between them was Mustang. That Mustang was doing something to protect him, and that Mustang had some horrible sin hanging over his head.

He had killed two friends, Gran had said. Traitors. Two doctors.

There was something about those words that tickled his memory but it was shoved aside by everything else.

Mustang, in the mean time, seemed to be considering how much to actually say.

“Don't think you can weasel out of this just cause he said you were protecting me,” Ed muttered- but again, his hands didn't move. Mustang did seem to appreciate the ice, leaning into it.

“Have you ever heard of Pandora's box, Fullmetal?”

Ed blinked. “Yeah… sorta. A human woman was given a box and told never to open it. Eventually she did and all the evils in the world came out.” His jaw tightened. “I'm not a damn girl…”

“But you have the curiosity and the box in front of you.”

Ed pulled the ice away to glare. “I don't want to argue metaphors with you. Stop talking in circles and get to the point.”

Mustang's returning snarl made Ed put the ice back.

“You want to open this box then? You sinned out of love- which is more than the rest of us can say. Do you really want to know? Do you want to be as damned as the rest of us? Even if you don't believe in god, surely you believe in hell!”

Ed sat back, reining in his temper, twitching.

“Gran said you were protecting us. From what?”

“What do you know of the Ishbal Rebellion?”

Ed wished the Colonel would stop throwing out the random comments. “About as much as anyone…” He didn't think bringing up what he'd heard from Hughes would be terribly bright.

“The State Alchemists were used as living weapons in that war- though we weren't really weapons, we were executioners.” Mustang's mouth twisted. “But we couldn't have caused the sheer destruction we did without help.”

Ed was fairly good at putting two and two together.

“They had the philosopher's stone and you used it?”

“No- not the complete stone.” Mustang rubbed his jaw a bit- and was surprised to find that Ed was still holding the icepack in place. “Prototypes that were full of flaws, completely unstable and they were likely to rebound at any time. I was… lucky enough… to see a few of the results.”

Ed winced; rebounds were never pretty. Though there were still plenty of things he had questions about. He opened his mouth- and Mustang cut him off.

“Dr. Marco had been heading up the research on the red stones. He was the one who gave certain of us pieces to use, after Gran ordered him.” Mustang's face was twisted in a strange smile.

“The Ishbal War was a massacre, pure and simple. The justification for war was flimsy… and I don't know all the details myself. I have to explain about what happened so you can understand why Marco deserted.”

Edward nodded, confused.

“And it doesn't go beyond this room. I can't tell you without telling Al, but no one else. Even your best friends- understood?”

Ed's eyes narrowed. Now he knew he would not like what he would hear.

“My affinities made me a great weapon, and with the stones we were nearly unstoppable. But some of us… some of us… protested. One of my colleagues had a nervous breakdown and had to be sent home.” Mustang looked away. “If I could, I would let the children go…”

Ed inhaled, horror making him feel like he'd swallowed broken glass as his mind filled in what Mustang had not said. There were times when I could not.

Predictably he went off on another tangent.

“There was a pair of doctors, a married couple, who had been sent to Ishbal. If you were injured, you were treated- no matter which side you were on. They only wanted to save lives. It was an island of kindness and sanity in that chaos. If you were injured, you were healed, and if you were healthy enough to hold a compress or give someone water, you were pressed into service. Several of us would go there just to be reminded what it was like to help people.”

And you did too, Ed realized, astonished.

“The unfortunate side effect, of course, was that we weren't as effective. We questioned orders… I didn't burn people as quickly as I should have. Its hard to kill someone at night you helped bandage that afternoon.”

Ed knew where this was going. He'd heard Gran, but he couldn't turn away, either.

Then he realized that Mustang had left- his body was sitting there looking at his fingers, curled like they were holding a gun.

“Gran honestly didn't care who those doctors treated, but he cared that they'd reminded his dogs they were human. He decided to make an example. He ordered me to execute my two friends that night.”

Mustang's voice turned softer as he spoke, until his lips were moving without sound. The words looked like apologies, his arm coming up and out, before dropping it again.

“I'm a lousy shot… he wanted me to use a gun. Didn't matter… close range…”

His hands were shaking.

“Mustang?”

“Just orders. I tried to back out, somehow… but my hands were already so dirty…”

“Colonel?”

“But he went with me. He wanted it to look like some Ishbalans had done it. They were happy when they saw me, offered me some tea… They'd gotten a letter from home and were celebrating. Then Gran told me to do it. I wanted to run, but I couldn't. I should have refused the orders but I was too afraid…”

“Mustang?” Ed's voice rose. The man was seriously starting to freak him out.

“If I had refused they would have sent me to that place… the one where they developed the stones and I would never have come out again. I don't know where it is but… but Gran told me I'd make a pretty chimera…”

Ed's stomach twisted again.

“And I shot them.”

“Mustang, stop.”

“Then… well. Marco found me… after. I almost found the courage that time.”

Ed noted he didn't sound distant that time- he was so matter of fact that Ed wanted to retch again. Especially when he pointed towards himself as he aimed his imaginary gun.

“Marco decided to desert that night, and took most of his research with him. I think it held them up for a few years… but I have stayed out of Gran's jurisdiction. He's told me more than once that he likes pretty things,” Mustang muttered, rubbing his jaw again.

“And he wanted you to know that he's caught up without Marco's research.” It wasn't a question.

Mustang nodded.

“So… why have you been running me around in circles for the past three years?” he asked- though most of the venom was gone. In its place was a weird feeling of pity and… maybe compassion?

Mustang turned to look at him, tilting his head to the side.

“What would you have done if someone other than me had found you?”

Ed paused. Mustang, morally bankrupt asshole… verses Gran. It made him shudder.

“You've been trying to keep me from becoming you.”

Another nod.

“Whatever is wrong, and dark, with the Philosopher's Stone- I've tried to keep you running to find a cure for yourself… and away from whatever Gran's been working on.”

Ed's teeth ground together.

“But we still need to find the stone, to get our bodies back.”

Mustang gave him a flat look, and Ed wanted to scoot back along the couch. He put the icepack in Mustang's hand, letting his real fingers trace his jaw.

“I won't lose my soul, Mustang.” He felt a weird flutter in his stomach, only it wasn't unpleasant this time. “Trust me a little okay?”

“I can't answer your questions.” Mustang didn't seem to be in any hurry to move… and Ed realized he should. He just didn't want to yet.

“Tell me more about Marco.”

“No.”

Ed looked at him, swallowing hard.

If I didn't have Al, and if I hadn't had him… What would I have become? What if I had had someone to tell me `no' all those years ago?

Dammit, I want to comfort a man who killed people. A man who is more of a sinner than I am.

A man who understands regretting your sins…

Ed rose to his feet, bangs shielding his eyes.

“I still need that information from you- and I will get it. Trust me on that.”

Mustang's tired eyes made Edward waver briefly. He did have his promise to Al, after all.

“And I'll keep protecting you, Fullmetal.”

Ed wondered why that didn't piss him off as it usually did, as turned and left the office.

 

To be continued.