Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Protection ❯ Chapter Seven ( Chapter 7 )

[ T - Teen: Not suitable for readers under 13 ]

Hello and good morning, or afternoon, or evening… or…whatever. *nervous laugh*

F-cat is almost over!*cheers* we've already had both math's; both readings and then we have science left which is Tuesday the 7th. I kick ass at language arts and stuff, so I'm okay with that. Alas…I HATE math…*grrr* Oh well… I think I did okay. *twitch*

Isn't spring break coming up soon? I haven't any idea but with holidays, there shall be more chapters because I have no life outside of school. *poke* Oh and I have news *pulls out fans* my mother is getting me internet so I should have it before this Friday! Which is March the 10th. Happy day! *does a little jig*

Here is chapter seven of Protection; I smell a lemon coming on… I've been in a lemony mood lately but I can't just throw one out there with little preparation. That means I get to see the lemons before you! *laughs hard and then starts cackling* Sorry `bout that.

I'm going to shut up now. Point-of-view still by Scar. Enjoy! ^-^ *glomp*

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Protection

`Chapter Seven'

Breath after breath I took until finally my erection went down only leaving me even more disgusted. What was that `thing' that invaded me? Invaded; it didn't actually invade because I let it do those things to me willingly. I barely even said anything.

That thing also knew my name. What the hell? Did I know it?

I pulled myself off of the now uncomfortable mattress and fumbled for the pants that I had discarded earlier that morning before I put on the hideous dress, the pants Al had bought me.

I thought about everything that had just happened to me; my heart rate increasing suddenly. The touch was oddly familiar, like I knew it from somewhere; it was on the tip of my tongue.

I wanted to shower, I couldn't stand this tingling feeling I got every time my mind trailed off and after those events. I felt dirty.

With a mind fogged with distorted images I forced myself out of my room and down the long hallway. I was afraid that I would run into Mustang at anytime and that he would just stare at me like he had done earlier. I wouldn't be able to take it; I wouldn't be able to keep a straight face to be exact. My mind would drift away to that touch, soft and… innocent.

Innocent? Something didn't seem right.

I shook my head nervously and then rounded the corner to exit when a blonde head popped up in front of me causing my running into the wall. Damn that girl.

Winry bubbled with a giant smile that could blind you if she was put out in the sun. In her hands she held a cloth and a wooden spoon.

“I'm cooking tonight.” She gloated.

“Are you now?” I mumbled in a breathy voice.

“Yes,” She had that odd, obsessive look on her face which suddenly changed to serious.

“Are you okay? I didn't see you when you and Al came back, and I heard something from your room, I didn't know if you were hurting or not.” I stared blankly at her face.

“I mean… I shouldn't have even asked, I'm sorry.” She apologized quickly and put on an embarrassed smile while bowing her head down and then turning to leave.

I snapped forward and grabbed her hand.

“Don't be,” my expression went soft and I searched her face. She reminded me of Alphonse because both of them wanted to help others. “I was fine… just, something I ate earlier, stomachs been hurting. Thanks for asking.”

I can't lie to save my life, but she took it.

“Well, I hope you get better before dinner because we're having stew.” Her face changed from embarrassed to energized within a few seconds, she frightened me some times.

I rubbed the back of my head and stared at the floor. “Yeah, I'll try.”

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I left her behind and scrambled outside. The sun had already begun to set and still I felt uncomfortable about walking around. Was this thing going to make me paranoid?

The shower seemed dreary to me as I turned the knob and water cascaded down only to have steam rise up. Looking around I cautiously undid my pants and stepped into the on pouring water. All stress left my body and I felt light weight like I had when I had first taken a shower here. This made me feel more comfortable than before.

I lifted my fake hands and traced them through my hairline feeling water droplets pivot down to the tips and then dropping off when the weight was too much for its slender strands.

I washed my hair with ferocious scrubs at my scalp and then rubbing the back of my neck where the hair was buzz-cut short; followed by soap and a rag that was already hung up by the nozzle of the shower. I stroked the soapy rag across my chest and shivered, I understood how one can be uncomfortable by another's touch, but I felt ridiculous for being uncomfortable with touching myself! I ran the rag down my stomach and hesitated to go any further, my lower lip being caught in between my stuttering teeth causing the tender skin to become increasingly raw with each vibrating jolt of my jaw.

I gave up and pulled the rag away, draping it along the top of the stall; what the hell was wrong with me?

Rinsing suds from my body, I forced my head under the running water and squinted my eyes as they were covered in a thin sheet of luke-warm water, my bottom lip catching the excess and pooling it in thick droplets on my chin; the small hairs caught them as if they were flies on a spider web.

Stew started sounding rather good to me.

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I entered the small house silently as I usually did and found myself being stared down violently by Mustang who had propped himself against a corner on the other side of the room. It was either about me, or about… me. His dark eyes were radiant of hate, oh but they could never match the hate I could throw at him within a matter of seconds. His little `glare' wouldn't do anything compared to mine.

Just as I rolled my dirty clothes into a bundle in my arms, ready to go to my room; both Winry and Alphonse entered.

“Oh good, you're both here, now we can eat.” Winry clasped her hands together and smiled flamboyantly. My eyes skidded straight to Mustang who I believed was thinking the same thing as I was.

“I eat by myself.” I stated vacantly, Mustang was glancing back and forth from me to Alphonse. I had probably just made his day since I already knew he didn't want me to be around period. Winry frowned silently and looked to Al. Why were we looking at him so intensively?

“Are you sure?” She really wanted me to eat with the rest.

I was ready to just nod until I caught Al's eye. He was just staring at me in the most pleading expression, his lower lip parted from his top, and his eyes narrowed in a teary-like stance. It was like I could hear his thoughts, his longings. I shivered.

“I'll stay.” My voice cracked softly as Mustang suddenly narrowed his eyes lightly, not in an anger glare, but more of curiosity. Maybe he had caught mine and Al's glances?

Both Winry and Al seemed to do a little cheer, though Winry's was visible, you couldn't wipe the smile off of her vibrant face. Mustang was pissed.

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“Woah Winry, this is really good!” Al stated through a full mouth, he was shoveling food here and there, often stopping to congratulate the young blonde who simply adored the compliments.

“I'm glade you like it! I worked so long today on everything with precise love and care,”

With that little `love and care' saying, we all knew she was about to go into a rant. “The carrots were each cut the same length, the potatoes were skinned to perfection, and the stew was stirred on a constant temperature of fifty degrees.” She was rocking back and forth which was frightening from where I sat; she seemed to love cooking just as much as auto mail.

Alphonse sat silent with his spoon hanging half-way out of his mouth, Mustang was just staring at Winry with a twitch in his eye and I, I was just as dumbfounded as Al, though I knew his thoughts had to be, `Why did I have to say that…'

“Well boys, what do you think?” She asked merrily with both her milky blue eyes closed upright in a proud motion. She was directing this one towards us. Mustang was the first to answer, merely nodding his head back and forth with a soft, “Wonderful.” Winry, I knew had to be bouncing around in her head with joy. She turned to me.

“It's delicious, but, it could use less salt.” I mumbled gently through a piece of beef. Mustang raised his brow in question. What? Constructive criticism never hurt anyone, right?

Winry tilted her head sideways and then released a smile that if you were to put her out in the sun, would burn your eyes out of their sockets. “You know, I was thinking about that when I started, I do usually put a little too much salt, I should have added more milk.” She scooped a fork load into her mouth and chewed generously.

I bowed my head half way, ready to consume another scoop until I caught Al out of the corner of my eye, had he been watching me this whole time? His golden eyes were narrowed, dare I say, in a sexual-like gaze. He had this look that made me shudder when I tried to look away, though I knew those wholesome eyes of his would be locked on my face.

Could a fifteen year old boy really have this kind of sex appeal he was giving off at the moment, and why at me? I felt something but…

I kept my head down but turned my eyes softly to meet his. Those rosy cheeks lit up like a bonfire when a put the fork in my mouth and then steadily ate. How easily he got embarrassed.

My question was why he stares at me the way he does. At first I thought he was just scared of me, now I catch him watching me when I go outside and sometimes him just sitting in my room, when I ask him he says that he left something of his on the floor and was looking for it, or that he had sleepwalked and `coincidentally' ended up in the wicker chair beside my bed. Was this all just coincident or was there something here that I was missing?

I looked back down at my bowl and then glanced at Mustang who had been watching us the whole time as well. He had a blank expression, I was usually good at reading them, but he was complicated.

“Excellent my dear.” I praised and stood from my chair, collecting my bowl and silverware. I bowed my head at Winry in thanks and then exited into the kitchen putting up what I had used. As I thought, Al was watching me the whole way in, Mustang glaring and Winry smiling dementedly to herself.

************************************************************** **********I turned down the long, narrow hallway and started towards my room rethinking everything that had happened at dinner and Mustang. What was his problem? I knew the guy hated me to the very extent, but could he really hate me that much?

I shook my head wearily and reached for the copper door knob until my breath was caught in the back of my throat, I winced as a hand crushed my shoulder and another reached to mine and pulled it from the handle. The door was opened roughly and I felt my body being thrown to the hard wood floor silently, I had a good idea at to who it was.

Pulling my body up I glared at the black haired Mustang and bared my teeth slightly, who did he think he was?

“I see how you look at him.” He growled with a throated voice. His violently dark eyes were piercing into mine.

“What?” Was all I could manage in my confusion as he slammed me against the closest wall with one hand to my throat, one beside me on the flat surface, and his knee between my legs, pinning me.

I groaned as his thumb pressed into the soft skin on the side of my neck where my windpipe was located sending sparks of pain here and there, through my shoulder and making my head spin rapidly.

“Don't act dumb with me!” He was so close to my face that I could the saliva from his mouth when he said certain words and smell the broth we had previously eaten. “You know exactly `what,' I could easily have you taken in on charges.”

So that's what he was pissed about.

“I'm not the one who is sticking my tongue down his throat,” I felt just like the day when Pinako said all those things to me. “So you don't need to open your military spoiled mouth!” I choked as he squeezed unknowingly; his eyes were glinted with pain and confusion.

“That was an accident.” He looked away; I knew what he knew now.

“The fuck it was!” I chuckled with as much insane sarcasm as my voice would allow. “I see how it is; you just don't want me even looking at what you want, you can't handle my eyes even touching Al… you're so predictable Mustang, you gay bastard.”

He snapped at my ending of the sentence with that word.

His fist plowed into the side of my face repeatedly until I felt my pores tinge with pain and my head slap against the side of the wall. My nose started to bleed as I writhed under his grasp, finally managing to push his body away from mine. I fell limply to the floor and lowered my head watching blood drip onto the cloth of my tan pants.

Mustang was clenching his fists so tight that his knuckles had began to turn a yellowish-white, he was panting so hard with rage I was afraid he would hyperventilate and pass out before me. I knew it was going to be dumb of me to mess with him anymore, but I could see how bad he couldn't stand this. With as much as I could muster, I lifted my head and began again.

“I saw you two, it's not like I'm blind… you were all over him that other night.” Mustang went into a full blush and lowered his head, most likely hiding his anger.

“I saw everything so you can't say shit to me.” I wiped the warm blood from my nose and pulled myself from the floor, it wasn't like I was hurt or anything, I was just being cautious if he planned to charge at me. I was surprised no one had heard us yet; I had to end this before it got worse.

“Is there anything else you wanted to say or do?” I asked through a sigh, I didn't feel like fighting him; I didn't want to hurt him to be exact. Mustang glanced up at me and slowly let his clenched knuckles relax; his face had changed from anger to something of worry. “Just stay away from Al.” He mumbled and with that stomped out of the room leaving me bewildered. Did he think I was going to take the young boy away from him? As if I would… first off, Al's like a brother to me; second, I'm not gay.

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“Hey Scar…can't you let me in? I want to talk to you!” Al insistently beat his fist against my door in a weak attempt for access. He was now whining playfully against the wood while scratching it with his fingernails; it was cute, but it wasn't going to work, I didn't feel like talking to him and explaining why I have a bruise the size of a saucer under my right eye and cheek that had started to turn a yellowish-purple. I knew that this could have been worse… Mustang was holding back.

I sighed heavily and stared at the door. Persistent he was. Al called again and tapped the door. He was expecting me to let him in. So clueless.

“Pa-leeeeeeeaaaasssseeee!”

“Why?”

“Beeeeecause, I wanna talk to you!”

“Is that so?” I said in a lazy tone listening closely to his reaction.

“Yes, now let me in.” He wasn't going to go away and I knew it, the only other way to get him to leave, was to let him in, and then he would let me alone. Pulling my frame from the squeaking bed I strode to the door and pulled a single, rusty hinge allowing the door to me mauled by the young Elric.

“Thanks.” He said with a sheepish smile and walked into the room enthusiastically closing the door and then sat cross-legged on the floor in front of my bed.

“What do you think you're doing?” I asked with a raised brow; I was glad that my room was dimly lit because he was staring hard at my face and I was afraid he would notice the bruise, all in good time I guess.

“What… do you mean?” He asked honestly.

“If you come into my room, you don't sit on the floor… get up here.” I said with sarcasm and pointed at the edge of my bed. His smile stretched from ear to ear as he pounced up like a cat. If there was room to sit on something comfortable, then sit on it; I didn't like seeing people sit on the floor when they didn't have to.

“Now what do you want?” My voice could change from playful to serious quickly; I often frightened myself at it.

“To talk and… hey, what's that on your face?” He squinted his golden eyes and zoned in on the bruise. He was blunt about it.

“It's nothing… what did you want to talk about?” I turned my face away from him so that he couldn't stare at me and distinguish was the bruise had been made by.

“No…what happened.” He got back on the topic of my face; turning is body to where my cheek was hiding. I sighed and shook my head.

“It's nothing…just; ran into the door frame, now what did you want to talk to me about.” I wasn't going to let him persist on talking about what had happened between me and Mustang, because frankly I didn't want to.

“Well… I wanted to talk about, you. You said that you would leave when you got better and, you're better now but…I just…”

I had forgotten about the promise I had made him, now that I was okay I could leave; I could go back to Lior if needed to continue with what I didn't finish; I could finally accomplish what I couldn't because I heard that most of the homunculus gave up on being human; this would be a good chance for me to get back on track with what I was doing. I was so engrossed with thoughts of the stone that I didn't notice Al blushing violently under his bangs until I saw him fiddling his thumbs and trying to say something.

“What is it?” I watched him tighten his fists and lower his head more; he obviously wanted to say something that wouldn't allow itself to come out.

“I-I wanted to know… if,” He swore under his breath, something that I was taken back by because I would have never have thought that `shit' would come out of his mouth. “I wanted to know if... like Winry's cooking?” He shook away his hair and forced on a smile that was rather sad. Where had that come from?

“Um, yeah… it was good.” I said blank-faced; I was feeling rather confused and idiotic at the moment, not knowing if I was the one who was screwed up at the moment, or something was screwed up with Al; rude to say but true; that's just how his aura was making me feel.

“That; that's good.” His expression was woozy and he looked like someone had just slapped him and told him to act like a human. “I guess I'll be going now.” He pushed his hands against the bed and hopped up quickly. “I'm glad we could have this conversation.” His smiled vibrated as he bowed; I blinked when I saw teardrops fall and hit the floor. He quickly left the room and I swore I could hear him sobbing. That wasn't like Al. First he wanted to say something about me staying here, and then he changes the subject to Winry's cooking. Something was wrong; I've noticed it a lot, in his smiles and in his glances, but now, now it was growing like a disease that couldn't be cured. He was keeping something from me that he wanted to let out. If he kept it bottled up he was going to lose it I wagered.

I jumped up from the bed and stalked out of my room and towards his. He had his door closed, but I knew he never locked it. Against my good nature I swung his door open and entered. He was lying on his stomach with his face buried in the closest pillow; soft sobs were illuminating the subtle silence.

He sat up and glared at the door, most likely not expecting it to be me. His eyes softened and he lowered his head until I could no longer see his eyes.

“What's wrong?” I said sternly and cocked out my hip so my hand would have a place to rest as I glanced down at his small, huddled form.

“I just…” He pulled his fingers into a tight ball again and pushed them against his bare ankle making the skin around that area a ghostly white.

“What?”

“I…”

This was going nowhere, I walked forward and took both his shoulders into my false hands, giving him a sturdy shake and then forcing his head up I glare down at him. “Spit it out.”

“Al… what the Hell is this bastard doing here?!” I cringed as a too familiar voice cut in. I felt my stomach tying itself in tight knots as the door stopped sharply against the wall. Dare I turn around and face what I had long forgotten about; what I hated? I felt vulnerable with my back against the new comer; I had to turn around some time…

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A/N's: Oh yeah, I'm a bitch for doing that aren't I? That was evil of me to just cut off like that, forgivith me!* cringes* I like a good cliffhanger now and then, but I know the readers don't :P

Okey Dokey, that was chapter seven of Protection. Squee! I wanted so badly to do a lemon, but I couldn't bring myself to… not yet at least *wink-wink*

Forgive me also for making Scar cuss! I hate myself for doing it with the `fuck' because Scar isn't like that! *wails* I feel like I have violated his monkishness by doing that, but I wanted to because I had no other idea in expressing his anger; I had to do something like that. Don't kill me for it*shakes* I sowwie.

Any who, good news ish that F-cat is over *pulls out victory fans and does a cult dance of the cheeseshirts around a bonfire of burning Barney tapes*

I now have to deal with projects! Yay, I love projects though cause they ish fun^-^

As I've said, Ideas, comments and flamers are always welcome on my list. Until the next chapter…

*flies off on giant energizer bunny*