Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Descent ❯ Reflection ( Chapter 38 )

 

 

Descent

 

Chapter Thirty-Eight

 

Reflection

 

 

“Well, kid, that's one nasty bruise you have there,” the military doctor said as he examined Ed's face.

 

“I wish you'd stop calling me that,” Ed growled. It had only been a few minutes after Havoc had walked off that Hawkeye had come running up to him. She'd grabbed his face and quickly inspected it before demanding to know what had happened.

 

He'd still been too stunned over what Havoc had said to answer her immediately. Roy? Love him? Him? Love? It was almost too much to comprehend. All that time he'd been gone, and even before, Ed had wondered exactly what, if anything, Roy felt for him. Whatever it was that Ed had imagined, or even hoped, it hadn't been love. Roy didn't seem like the type...

 

Hawkeye had demanded that Ed visit the medical floor to be sure everything was fine, but at that moment, Ed had realized that Havoc hadn't been the only one who'd been with Mustang that night.

 

`Why didn't you tell me?' he'd pleaded. To that, she'd simply looked at him. Anger had filled him and, grabbing onto her uniform, he'd yelled, “You were there! You heard him! But you didn't tell me!” Hurt had wormed its way through the anger and tears gathered at his eyes. “I trusted you,” Ed had breathed, feeling betrayed.

 

“Ed...” she'd said quietly. “You don't understand. I was waiting... I...”

 

“No!” he'd yelled, then stood so that he was looking down at her. “You never wanted us together in the first place! You're only acting like you're on my side, but then you hide things from me and let people use me!”

 

Her face had taken on a hurt look and she shook her head quickly, “Ed, you don't understand. I'm not against you. I want to help you—”

 

But he hadn't wanted to listen to her. He'd been so furious and hurt. “Just shut the fuck up!” he yelled angrily. “Just...” he'd said with a quieter voice. He'd begun backing away, not really sure where he was going to go, but not wanting to stay there. “Just leave me alone...” he'd said in a half snarl, half sob.

 

Ed couldn't remember the time from that point to when he'd ended up on the floor that held the medical unit. But since he was there, he'd decided to at least get some ice for his eye, which was now swollen shut and throbbing painfully.

 

“Well, until you hit twenty-five, you're still a kid,” the doctor answered, interrupting Ed's memories, then began scribbling something on a notepad. “And even then, that's questionable.”

 

“Yeah, well, I have a name,” Ed pressed, not pleased with the dark-haired doctor calling him `kid'.

 

“I'm well aware of that,” the doctor said, then used a finger to push his glasses up a little before looking at Ed. “Look, kid, you might not like it, but I'm the only one here to see you right now, given that all those who are usually here are in a staff meeting. I'm generally not here because I do mostly autopsies now, but you just happened to be lucky.”

 

“You didn't have to examine me,” Ed bit back. “I just came for some ice.”

 

The doctor looked up, but before he had a chance to say anything, the door opened and another doctor walked into the room. He seemed surprised to see them both, but quickly recovered and said, “Doctor Knox(1), what are you doing up here in the land of the living?”

 

“Being reminded of why I work only with the dead,” he returned wryly, then looked at Ed. “It seems like nothing was permanently injured, though you should give this office, or your regular doctor, a call if you notice any drainage or increased redness. Also watch for any changes in your vision or persistent eye pain.” He paused, then said, “Or bleeding or any abnormalities.”

 

The doctor, Doctor Knox, scribbled something else on the notepad, then looked up at Ed and continued, “Use cold compresses on it for the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours, then switch to applying warm ones intermittently. That should help your body reabsorb the leakage of blood and may help reduce any discoloration.”

 

“Fine... can I go now?” Ed grumbled ungraciously.

 

He scowled when the other doctor said jovially, “He's just as pleasant as you, Knox.”

 

Doctor Knox paid the other doctor no mind and said quietly, “Policy says you have to report exactly what happened.” He paused, glanced up at Ed, and studied him silently.

 

Ed frowned and narrowed his eyes. What would happen if he reported what actually occurred? He knew there were rules against hitting your commanding officer, something about respect, but he'd never taken the time to find out about them or the consequences... Should he report Havoc? He wanted to, mostly because he felt angry and vindictive, but for some reason he just didn't feel right about it...

 

“Let me guess,” Knox said blandly. “You walked into a door.” Ed frowned and blinked a couple times before he realized the man didn't believe that at all. Giving a short and curt nod, he kept quiet and waited. The doctor nodded and wrote something down on the notepad before saying, “You can leave now.” He paused then said, “Try to stay out of fistfights.”

 

“Yeah, whatever...” Ed muttered, pressing the icepack against his eye, then quietly said, “Thanks...” For whatever reason, Knox was covering his ass, but Ed wasn't one to look a gift horse in the mouth. When Knox nodded, Ed walked out of the room, then looked both ways down the hall. He could go back to Mustang's... his... office, or he could go outside and have a smoke.

 

Deciding on the smoke, Ed hurried out of the building through the back entrance and sat on one of the steps. Stupid Havoc... Ed thought as he fumbled in his pocket for the pack with the hand not holding the icepack, but when he pulled it out, Ed saw that it was empty.

 

With a heavy sigh, Ed dropped the empty cigarette pack at his feet and stared dully at it. Nothing had turned out how he'd thought it would; not that he'd thought that everything would be perfectly fine if he got the fuhrer to agree with him, but he'd thought that maybe Roy's staff would see that he could do things on his own. Perhaps they'd see that they didn't need to use him...

 

He scowled at the empty cigarette pack. Well, whatever... He didn't need them anyway. He could do this on his own. He wasn't a child anymore after all... Digging out his watch, Ed glanced at the time, then looked around. It was still early, but he wasn't quite ready to head back to the office. The last thing he wanted was to answer questions right now, and besides, he needed to buy another pack of smokes. Ed bit gently on his bottom lip trying to think of a good excuse to go missing for an hour or two...

 

;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 

Vato Falman flipped through the files Major Armstrong had given him as he walked down the hall. He'd need to go through them as quickly as possible so that the major could return them from where he'd `borrowed' them before anyone noticed. Stopping next to the door that lead to the small research room near the colonel's office, Vato absentmindedly reached out to open it. He paused with his hand on the doorknob and wondered if it would be more correct to think of the office as Colonel Mustang's or as Ed's. And now that Ed was officially his boss, Vato wondered if perhaps he should think of him as...

 

“You going to just stand there all day?” a voice said behind him.

 

Vato blinked and turned to see Breda, then said, “Oh, sorry, lieutenant, I was just thinking,” then opened the door and let himself inside.

 

Breda merely grunted and when they were inside, Vato took a seat at the end of the long research table, then looked over to where Breda was sitting down beside him.

 

“So... how's it coming?” Breda asked unhappily. Vato shrugged and slid the folder over to his redheaded coworker. He watched as Breda halfheartedly flipped through the pages.

 

Tapping his fingers silently on the table, Vato stared at Breda for a few minutes, thinking about the meeting they'd just had before finally saying, “You have to admit, Ed has guts.”

 

“Yeah, and they're going to end up splattered all over if he's not careful,” Breda growled at the folder.

 

Vato glanced at the folder, then said mildly, “Maybe someone should talk to him.”

 

“I already talked to him,” Breda snapped.

 

“Oh really? And what exactly did you say to him?” Vato asked, glancing up from the folder and giving Breda a pointed look. Instead of speaking, Breda simply glared down at the folder, and, after a moment, Vato said, “It's not like you to miscalculate, but you did this time, didn't you?”

 

There was silence for a moment, then Breda said, “Yeah... Yeah, I did.” His tone was filled with frustration and regret.

 

Reaching out, Vato took the folder. “What do you plan on doing about it?” He knew that Breda was stubborn, almost as stubborn as Ed, but he had a feeling that Breda would put his pride aside for the greater good. Ed might as well, but Vato wasn't sure. He just didn't know Ed well enough to say how Ed might possibly act. But then, he didn't think he was the only one who didn't know Ed as well as perhaps they should.

 

Before Breda had a chance to answer, the door burst open and Lieutenant Hawkeye walked—almost stalked—into the room.

 

“Have you seen Lieutenant Havoc?” she asked in a demanding voice.

 

“Why?” Breda asked, and Vato raised an eyebrow at the man's bravery. He didn't like questioning women when they were angry, especially not Lieutenant Hawkeye. If she wanted information, then he gave what he could and hoped that would be enough to escape any wrath.

 

She opened her mouth, but at that moment, Havoc appeared in the doorway and said blandly, “I think half the building knows you're looking for me.” When he was in the room, Hawkeye moved over to the doorway, stuck her head out into the hall and looked both ways, then slammed the door shut before rounding on the taller man.

 

“I want to know what your problem is,” she demanded.

 

“My problem?” Havoc asked in disbelief, his eye's widening a little and his features taking on a surprised look.

 

“Yes, your problem. You've had a problem with Ed all day, that much is obvious, but punching him in the face was unacceptable and childish.”

 

Vato sighed and shook his head. That was not going to make the situation better at all. He glanced at Breda, who looked back at him with a frown. Turning his attention back to the two by the door, Vato waited to see how this would play out.

 

Havoc scowled and folded his arms across his chest. “I'm not the only one who has been childish. He—”

 

“He is seventeen!” she said in exasperation. “You...” She turned and looked at Breda. “And you...” she said pointedly before looking back at Havoc. “Are an adult. Both of you are adults! I want you to act like it!”

 

“Hey, don't drag me into this,” Breda said, looking offended, but quieted when Hawkeye glared at him.

 

Taking a deep breath, Havoc said calmly, “Maybe you should go home...”

 

“Excuse me?” she said in disbelief.

 

“You just seem... Well, perhaps it would be better if you took a few more days to yourself,” Havoc said kindly, and Vato was impressed by how smooth the man was being. Unfortunately, `smooth' didn't work with Riza Hawkeye. Vato had seen the colonel try it enough without results that he wondered why Havoc hadn't realized that yet.

 

Hawkeye pressed her lips together and stared at him in silence for a moment before saying, “I'm not going home, and you will tell me what your problem is, that is an order.”

 

The concerned expression on Havoc's face changed to one of anger. “Fine. You want to know what my problem is? I'll tell you what my problem is. My problem is what the colonel said that night. My problem is that you didn't even seem surprised at all. Exactly how long have you known?”

 

Her eyes widened slightly in surprise before she said, “That's what your problem is?”

 

“Don't act so surprised. There's a reason why that's forbidden in the military. It only causes problems, and as you can see, we have one hell of a problem. If Ed hadn't been distracting the colonel, then maybe things would have turned out differently!”

 

“You can't blame this on Ed!” she said in shocked disbelief.

 

Vato heard Breda clear his throat, then say, “In my opinion, it's actually the colonel who's at fault.” At that, both Hawkeye and Havoc turned to look at him. Vato glanced at Breda in time to see him shrug. “I'm not saying I like it, but as far as I'm concerned the colonel is a grown man. Ed's just a kid. I don't know all the details, but I think that if anyone is to blame, it's Mustang.”

 

“So, what? Everyone around here knew about this but me?” Havoc asked angrily.

 

“No, I just found out yesterday when I went to talk to Ed.” Breda paused then grimaced. “Let's just say a picture is worth a thousand words...”

 

“I don't even want to know...” Havoc said and put a hand over his eyes.

 

Riza folded her arms and gave Breda a pointed look. “Is that your problem as well?”

 

Breda shook his head. “My problem is that Ed went about this all the wrong way. My problem is that he's being a little shit. My problem is that if he keeps going the way he is, he's going to end up hurt, dead, or missing. He needs to consider all the factors, and he needs to act more mature. What he does with his personal life, well...” Breda reached up and scratched at his hair looking a little embarrassed. “I don't like it, but that's not why I was mad.”

 

Vato glanced at the three of them in confusion before saying, “I think I'm missing something here...”

 

There was silence in the room as the other three officers looked at each other. Finally, Riza sat down on one of the chairs and said, “The less people who know about this, the better, but I don't know that we can keep this from you if we all know.” She glanced from Breda, who nodded, to Havoc who shook his head and muttered darkly to himself, then back to him. With another sigh, she began to speak and as he listened, Vato realized with growing awkwardness that he was learning much more about Roy Mustang and Edward Elric than he ever wanted to know.

 

;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 

Kain Fuery stared dully up at the hospital ceiling wondering how many more tests the doctors were going to do on him. How much longer were they going to keep him here? It wasn't really that he wanted to leave; on the contrary, he was a little nervous at the thought. Everything was set in the hospital. He knew what to expect. He knew the doctors and the nurses who took care of him and he even knew some of the other patients.

 

When they let him out, he'd have to face the cold reality that everything that he'd known before was gone. He'd return to a dorm—he'd been told he lived in a dorm—that was his, but that he didn't remember; to a job that he'd been in for years, but didn't understand, and he'd be expected to interact with people who knew him, but who he could only scrape up feelings of vague recollection.

 

Roy Mustang had told him that he'd help him. He'd told him that he would make sure he had a job to go back to and that he would protect him, but now Roy was gone. Something bad had happened to him and now Kain wasn't sure what to expect...

 

He blinked when a knock on the door met his ears. He sat up a little and said, “Come in...?”

 

The door opened and the head of Ed Elric popped in. “Hey... I came to see how you're doin'.”

 

Kain smiled a little and waved him in as he situated himself into a more comfortable sitting position. He'd heard a lot about Ed from Roy. Kain wasn't sure if Roy was even aware of how much he talked about the boy, but it didn't bother him. When Ed had come to see him last night, Kain almost felt like he actually did know him and he'd felt pretty comfortable with him.

 

“I brought this,” Ed said as he shut the door and held up the chess set. “You up for another game?”

 

“Sure,” Kain said happily, then frowned when he saw how bruised and swollen Ed's eye was. “What happened?” he asked in concern.

 

Ed gave him a small smile and said, “I walked into a door,” as he took a seat near the bed.

 

“Must have been some door...” Kain murmured as Ed began to set the game up.

 

“Yeah, it was. I didn't even see it coming...” Ed said quietly, then said more cheerfully, “But don't worry, I have this!” He held up an icepack as if that would suddenly cure the injury. “It only looks bad, but it doesn't even hurt.”

 

Kain raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. It was obvious Ed was lying about it not being painful, but he decided not to talk about it anymore since Ed was trying to blow the subject off. Turning his attention to the board, Kain shook his head before reaching out and changing the rook and the bishop around.

 

To that, Ed made a little sound of frustration. “I don't know why I keep doing that,” he mumbled.

 

“Don't worry about it,” Kain said lightly and motioned for Ed to make the first move. “Everyone makes mistakes.”

 

“Yeah, but my mistakes usually cause other people problems...”

 

“Well...” Kain said as he made his first move. “I suppose what's important is that we learn from our mistakes, right?”

 

“I guess, but sometimes things can't be undone... Sometimes we just have to live with it...”

 

Kain looked up and frowned deeply, then said, “I know about things that can't be undone. This...” He tapped lightly on his head. “Can't be undone. My skull is fixed, but inside...” He shook his head. The doctors said there was a small chance he could regain his memory, but he had a feeling they were telling him that so that he'd have something to hope for. “But other things can be undone. It just depends on how much you want them to be undone.”

 

Ed picked up one of his pawns and fingered it for a moment before setting it down on another spot. “It's not that simple...”

 

“Of course not,” Kain said. “Not simple and not easy...” He picked up his bishop and pointed it at Ed. “But worth it in the end, right?” When Ed didn't say anything, Kain killed off one of Ed's pawns with the bishop and grinned at him.

 

Ed smirked and said, “So how about undoing that?”

 

Kain smiled broadly, happy to see Ed cheering up. “Not a chance.”

 

;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 

Al mumbled softly to himself as he examined the array on the glove. He made note of something on a note pad, then slipped both of the gloves onto his hands. In the past month or so, Al had been working a lot with the gloves, though it was more of a pet project than anything else. He'd still had hopes that he could make a multi-purpose array, but the more he worked on it, the more he was beginning to think that it wasn't going to work.

 

“Hey,” a voice said, and Al looked up to see Russell walk into the room.

 

“Russell...” Al said in a mild greeting, then shifted his position on the floor.

 

Sitting down across from him, Russell nodded toward the papers and books scattered on the floor. “What are you working on? I see you in here for a couple hours every day, and my curiosity has gotten the better of me.”

 

Al sighed, pulled the gloves off, and tossed them over to Russell. “I've been trying to make an array with a large assortment of purposes, but so far I've go nothing.” He nodded at the gloves Russell was inspecting. “Along the way, I came up with that array.”

 

The chemist glanced up at him, not looking very impressed. “What does it do?”

 

Al motioned for the gloves back. Taking a piece of paper, he folded it in half and then twisted the ends. Putting on the gloves, Al touched the paper and felt a piece of himself drain into the paper. He could feel himself become the paper in a way, and he was aware of the floor from where the paper was at. With little effort, Al made the paper move so that the ends of the twisted paper were making the paper `stand', then he walked the paper over to where Russell was sitting.

 

“My soul is easily detachable. I'm able to transfer a part of myself into other objects for an unspecified amount of time.” He turned his hands over so that his palms were facing up and stared at the arrays. The fact that he had the ability to transfer part of his soul into objects was pretty neat, but it was pretty useless as well...

 

Russell picked up the paper and examined it, and through the paper, Al was aware of how Russell was holding the paper and how much pressure he was using when he squeezed at the `legs' of the twisted paper.

 

“Interesting,” Russell murmured.

 

“You could say that,” Al replied. “But it's pretty useless too.” Unless you wanted to do some really kinky stuff, Al thought and instantly looked down to hide the embarrassment he was suddenly feeling.

 

“I don't know if I'd say it was useless...”

 

Al shrugged. “It's great for entertaining people, I suppose.”

 

Russell was quiet for a time before saying, “What is it like?”

 

Flexing and unflexing his hands, Al thought about it for a moment, then remembered how he'd explained it to Winry. “It's like... putting your hand into an empty jar. The transfer doesn't hurt or anything, it's just a... well, it's an awareness. I'm aware that I'm there and I'm aware that I'm here. I'm aware that you're holding that paper even if I'm not looking at it. It's not a really strong awareness. It just... well, it just is.”

 

“Hmm...” Russell studied the paper in his hands again, then said softly, “But, what if the jar wasn't empty?”

 

Al's eyebrows knit together in confusion. “What do you mean?”

 

Russell held up the paper and said, “This is just a piece of paper. There's nothing there. You said that it was like putting your hand into an empty jar. Well, what if the jar wasn't empty?”

 

Al's mouth went dry as he suddenly realized what Russell was alluding to. “I could never try this on something that was living, Russell. It just wouldn't be right. Besides, I have no idea what would happen.”

 

“Even if a jar is filled with rice or beans, you can still stick your hand in it, right?” Russell said. “It just takes a little work.”

 

Scowling, Al said, “I can't see any reason why I would ever want to try to put my soul into anything that was alive. Besides, that would be messing around with human beings. That would be borderline to human alchemy, and that's forbidden.” Even as he said it, he felt like a hypocrite, but he already knew that what he'd done in the past was wrong and he didn't want to repeat those mistakes.

 

“Think about it,” Russell said eagerly. “Think about what a great weapon it would be if you could learn to control people from the inside!”

 

“I am not a weapon!” Al snapped. “I have no desire to hurt anyone.”

 

“But sometimes you have to hurt people to protect the ones you care about, right?” Russell said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

 

Al exhaled forcefully through his nose, then said in frustration, “Of course, but I would rather solve things peacefully.”

 

“That's not always an option,” Russell shot back. “Why should you get to sit here all cooped up doing nothing, while people are out there fighting so that you can be happy and free? If you stay here, how far do you think the military will go to try forcing you to join them? You being here is putting people in danger! You're worried that Winry isn't safe to go out by herself, but why? Because people in the military are after you, because they want to force you into joining with them! If you left Rizembool, she would be a lot safer.”

 

Al swallowed painfully at the thought that he was putting Winry in danger because he was being stubborn. It was true that Archer did want him to join with them, and the man definitely had less than wholesome ways of going about things. He could leave. He could head to Central to find Ed. Winry wanted him to find his brother anyway, but would they try to recruit him there too?

 

He sighed miserably. This wasn't his war. He'd been fine with how the government was run before. Maybe it wasn't great, but it worked fine for him. Sure, a government run by the people was intriguing, but could it work? If there was a democratic government in place when the war was over, would it really be better than the one they already had?

 

Sighing, Al dropped his head into his hands. There were so many things going on, and yet there was no clear answer as to what was right and what was wrong... Finally, he looked up at Russell, who was staring silently at him, then pressed his lips together stubbornly. Well, one thing he did know for sure—he was never going to use alchemy to transfer his soul into a living thing. It was wrong, and he would never do it.

 

Never.

 

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1- From the manga.

 

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A/N: Despite the fact that I'm pretty busy right now, I'm going to put a lot of effort into getting this story updated every week or two. This story is at a point where I could write very long chapters because there is just so much to put in them, but I'm going to try to keep the chapters between 8-10 pages so that I can post more often.

 

In my profile, I have a link to a page in my LiveJournal that I've dedicated to letting people know if I've worked on specific stories that week or not. I'll be updating that same page every week, so the URL on that will always stay the same. If you ever have a question about whether or not this story (or any other of my stories) are being worked on, you can go there and check.

 

Thank you all for being patient, and thank you for all the encouragement.

 

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Please Review. Because it reminds busy authors they need to update.