Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Departure ❯ Battle Assessment ( Chapter 5 )

Departure V

 

Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist does not belong to me and I make no money from this work of fanfiction at all.

Pairings: Roy and Ed, others mentioned.

A/N: I need plot. Where is my plot? So far I have two possibilities in mind and both are… uh… Well. Never mind. Who needs plot?

 

Ed huffed, and puffed, and did his best to blow Al over.

It was a futile effort; Al was just too big and heavy... not to mention the "t" word.

Still, it was a shame that the hot air being generated wasn't being put to use. Al wished he could find a way to store all the energy his brother wasted. That way he wouldn't eat so much and they wouldn't be running out of money. It would mean they could increase the funds they had for research- but they could also use it for helping people like in Xenotime or Youswell. Perhaps it was a side-effect of being able to use alchemy without circles? After all, if the energy was constantly cycling through him it had to be expended somehow...

"Al, are you listening to me?"

"Yes?"

"What was the last thing I said?"

Al, who had been quite content zoning while his brother ranted, went blank before answering.

"You're still freaked out about the straight-as-a-pencil comment?"

"ARRGH!"

This exclamation did not mean that Al was right or wrong... yet he would have been horribly surprised if he had been wrong.

"No, that had nothing to do with it, thank you very much! Even if it is still freaking me out! No, I was talking about how Mustang said he'd keep protecting me! I need to find out about Marco! I should go right up to Basque Gran and-"

Al, who had heard the pertinent information before his mental vacation, made a sound like he was inhaling.

Ed turned to look at him.

"Brother... Gran made him kill two doctors. Two innocent people. What would he do to you? What would he do..."

"To you?"

Ed's face turned green. Whatever it was he saw in his mind's eye was making him want to throw up, and Alphonse patted his shoulder carefully.

"He was the man who tried to take Nina away, and he did get Tucker, remember? He was the man who sponsored Tucker, right? What else has that guy done? Do you really want to get involved with him?"

Ed wavered, before leaning up against Al's steel chest.

"But if it means getting you back..."

"I don't want you to, Ed." Here he was firm. There was no wavering in his tone. "You do something stupid like that- and I will destroy my blood seal myself."

Ed stared at him in horror, before swallowing and nodding, putting his hands over his face. Al looked away- he didn't think Ed would want to see his moment of weakness.

"I'm not going to him," he whispered. "I will never let that happen. But I have to find out where Marco is."

"Well, maybe you should do something to get it out of him."

"Ahhhhh!"

Al hadn't heard someone come in over the wind his brother was making. Turning, both boys found a grinning Maes Hughes standing at their backs.

"Hi boys! Have you seen this picture? It's Elysia's last Halloween picture, doesn't she make an adorable kitty cat? And, oh yes, I was here on my way to talk about your assessment." Maes pale eyes glittered dangerously, and Ed backed away. Al wanted to join him... Suit of armor or not, the man was good with his knives.

"I have other things to worry about right now!" Ed protested, and Al wondered how his grave stone should read. Oh yes, Beloved Brother... too brave for his own good...

"Yes, you talked to Roy. I also get the impression he told you a few things he doesn't want me knowing, right?"

Ed squirmed, and Al mused over open casket or closed. Considering how Hughes was approaching... Closed was a good option.

He might consider trying to resurrect his brother but that might wind up with two of them in suits of armor.

Not a good thought.

"Well, he asked me not to tell anyone but Al." Ed was positively squirming, and Hughes looked positively murderous.

"No one but Al, huh?" His face contorted, before breathing through his teeth like an animal. Ed shrank back... Before coming up full force.

"Yeah, what of it? He wouldn't tell me about the Philosopher's Stone or anything else of value, either!"

"Then you weren't listening, as usual."

Al would have grimaced, if he'd had a face. He'd really be sad if there was a double funeral...

"If we can stop the posturing?" Alphonse asked, and both males turned on him.

"STAY OUT OF IT, AL!"

He backed away.

"I'll help you get information out of him if you tell me what happened," Hughes growled.

Ed's eyes narrowed. "An equal exchange? I can't promise you'll be happy with what you hear."

"I can't promise you'll win."

Ed twitched, then nodded. "But you'll get your information after I get mine, got it?"

"It will be worth it to see you two go at it. Think about it... the Flame versus the Fullmetal. Quite a grudge match, don't you think?"

Ed's jaw hit his knees.

"Wuh?"

"I'm talking about a battle assessment, Ed."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The battle assessment had seemed like a great idea at the time. What Ed hadn't counted on was Mustang acting like a total spaz.

Well... now he knew why Hughes and Mustang got along so well.

"I'll follow you everyone Mustang!" Havoc sang, nearly humping the man's knee as he clung. The declaration of all female officers being required to wear miniskirts couldn't be serious... could it?

For a moment, he imagined wearing a miniskirt himself and promptly tried to pull his hair out. He would wear nothing mini! He was not mini!

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SMALL HE CAN'T WEAR A FULL SIZED SKIRT?" he snarled- then slapped his fist so fast over his mouth that he winced. There would probably be a nasty bruise there later.

Havoc was still off in a daze, Hawkeye had already left before things got too silly...

But the look on Mustang's face said he had heard Fullmetal perfectly.

Of course, Colonel Bastard didn't get a chance to respond- Ed had run like hell.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The battle assessment was being held, much to the chagrin of a certain Colonel and the insane cackling of three conspirators.

Maes would have given Ed tips, if he'd asked. Being Ed, he didn't.

"And now I finally get to kick that bastard's ass in front of everyone and finally get some damn respect!"

"Do you have a strategy, Ed?" Al asked, holding the kitten tenderly. He was really only there to make sure the itty bitty kitty found a good home. Beating up Mustang was only secondary- he didn't care much. Mustang had helped them, but if it made Ed happy to indulge in violence... Well, Mustang probably knew how to duck.

He'd seen Mustang roast that terrorist, but he wasn't too worried about his brother. After all, they had a great mechanic.

"I told you! I'm going to hit him with my fist!"

Well, at least he was confident.

The two alchemists faced off across the parade grounds, eyeing each other like two gunfighters.

"I don't give a shit about passing the assessment," Ed said, almost too low to be heard about the din of the crowd. Most of peanut gallery was jeering. "If you lose- you have to tell me about Marco, and you get a new cat."

"I'm not going to get cat litter just yet, Fullmetal," Mustang answered, then smirked. Al noted that Ed's face turned red. "I didn't get to comment on your eloquence yesterday... a full length skirt wouldn't fit you at all."

Ed nearly had a seizure.

"In fact, I think a miniskirt might be too long on you. You really should stick to those leather pants."

Maes was standing there, holding in the giggles that shook his shoulders.

"Ready..." he carefully backed up, because he, if no one else, knew what was coming.

"Ready set fight!"

"What the fuck?"

"Too slow."

Crack. Boom.

Ed barely had time to dodge and roll from the first explosion.

"Fuck!"

Al's jaw would have been flapping, if he had a jaw. Mustang was good at what he did. Brother was able to create pure destruction, but Mustang had finesse.

Not that the Colonel didn't cause destruction. Al had to hide the kitty.

"Go Brother!" Al cheered, when he used the smoke as a distraction to set up a trap. Finally, he was using his brain!

The massive cannon was impressive... Until everyone remembered that Roy wore two gloves.

"All war is deception. Think your enemy has a weakness, and it becomes his strength." Roy's eyes were pinning Ed to the ground. Al wondered if Ed was getting the entire message there... Whatever he thought about Roy, his weaknesses- they were as much strengths.

"I don't need your fucking lectures," Ed answered, and Al rolled his metaphorical eyes. "Just finish me off."

Mustang's expression was humorous... before he froze.

Al realized why Ed had been so bothered by Mustang's eyes. Black holes staring at something so wrong...

Al shivered. He wasn't there in that fight anymore-

And Ed took advantage of it, thrusting his automail spear point to graze his throat.

"That's enough," a mocking voice called, and Ed dropped his arm almost before the Fuhrer spoke.

"Mustang?" he asked, changing his arm back and unconsciously reaching out to touch his chest.

"You two can stop now, I'm convinced that both of you are fully capable Alchemists. I'm grateful to have you on board."

Ed was looking into Mustang's face, before turning and doing something he very rarely did. He saluted.

"Thank you, Fuhrer sir," he said, in a rare show of humility. It was about as real as plastic fruit, but it passed at a glance. He had, instinctively tried to hide Mustang from the group that approached them. Maybe not from the Fuhrer... strange man though he was... but from Basque Gran, who had a speculative gleam in his eyes.

The man was looking up at Mustang, and he wondered if Gran was cataloguing every speck of sweat and out of place hair. There was more in that look than just eyeing a wounded animal. He was imagining something else. Narrowing his eyes, Ed put up his metaphorical hackles. The sudden, insane protectiveness that had infected him made him want to growl at the Iron Blood Alchemist. Someone who cared about him (but not the other way around) was injured and fuck if he was going to let that man even think about whatever he was thinking about.

He remembered the dead eyes and words, saying Gran liked pretty things.

So he completely missed Gran's speculative look in his own direction.

"Thank you for the good match, Fullmetal," Mustang cut in on his thoughts, rasping slightly. There was a gloved hand on his shoulder.

Ed relaxed, just a tad.

"That was impressive," the Fuhrer went on, like everyone else had ceased to exist. Ed didn't want to look at his secretary, because Gran was so close, and Mustang still didn't sound quite right.

"And now, you two need to clean all this up," the military dictator chimed- and Ed nearly fell forward.

"Sir, yes sir!"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"This sucks!" Ed whined, clapping his hands to smooth out a patch of the ruined field. He could hear Mustang yawning behind him.

"Hey, Bastard..."

The Colonel turned, and Ed stopped as he looked at him.

He was sitting, at ease, face relaxed, and Ed had the bizarre thought he was looking at a fallen god of war, or maybe fire. The sunset was turning his white shirt red; it could have been blood or flame. He was tired, yes. He was careworn, yes. Beautiful and majestic, and at any moment he would take back his place in the heavens to smite those who had dared cross him.

It was an uncomfortable epiphany, to realize he thought Mustang was beautiful enough to inspire poetic shit in him.

Somehow that was harder to deal with then the idea of Mustang protecting him.

"Huh?"

Until he opened his mouth, and Ed wanted to hit him again.

"I know why you froze up, and..." And what, he wanted to claim his reward? He really hadn't won- there was none of the satisfaction that came from an honest fight. His opponent was already wounded and had fought him to victory, only to be defeated by himself.

Mustang exhaled, looking down at his shovel.

"Maybe you should go talk to Doctor Marco. I can't explain to you why the Philosopher's Stone is such a horrible thing, but he could. He was the one who developed the prototype we used. A true, real Stone, I don't want to think about. I hope you can find it without going our path."

Ed shivered.

"He's alive..?"

Roy turned and nodded at him, eyes narrowed in a smirk. Suddenly things seemed right again, because things were as they should be. Mustang was smirking and sending him someplace, and Ed had a solid lead. Perhaps his first ever.

"If the stone is so awful, why are you still helping me, if you said you wanted to protect me?"

Ed noticed that Roy had stopped looking at him, and was staring across the field. Three shapes were there, along with Al and Hawkeye.

The Fuhrer, his secretary, and Basque Gran.

"Because I may not be able to, for too much longer."


To be continued.