Chapter Text
When Edward did not characteristically retort something in response, Izumi furrowed her brows and stepped closer to them. "Boys," she began as she looked from the elder to the younger, "What's wrong? What did your call—"
"Wait," Edward muttered, "Let's discuss this at another place. Please, Teacher."
Izumi closed her mouth, eyeing the young boy with newfound intent. Not only did he look exhausted and weary; no, there was a sadness in his eyes that she had only seen once before. For him to display that profound an emotion, she knew something was seriously wrong.
And coupled with that sadness was another emotion, one she knew all too well. One she saw on his face every time the thought of that night crossed his mind. There was exhaustion. There was sadness. And there was guilt.
Heeding the boy's request, Izumi nodded and fell into step beside them as they led she and Sig down the street and toward the one house that still had its porch light on.
Rebecca had been getting tended to when she heard them bring him in. Overcome with impatience, she jumped up knocked the small tray table over that held the bandages and gauze one of the bargirls has been using to wrap her neck. Muttering a quick apology and a promise to clean it up in a few minutes, Rebecca was halfway to the door when a hand caught her wrist. Whirling around, she saw the girl, who had introduced herself as Clara, holding her wrist. A deep frown formed on the other woman's face and Rebecca eased up on her pull.
After seeing Rebecca's expression, however, Clara's face softened. "I know you're worried, Miss Catalina, but if I could keep you here for just one more moment I won't need you again."
Another moment longer seemed like an eternity to Rebecca. She could hear Jean's voice in the other room asking about her and it took everything for her to not shout out to let him know that she was right there. She was so close and yet... she felt miles away from him. But the tantalizing notion that she would not be pulled away once she was tended to on her over. Swallowing the lump that had formed in her throat, Rebecca finally muttered, "Alright." She slowly edged back over to the seat she had been in and dropped to her knees, hurriedly picking up the medical supplies she had knocked to the ground. A moment later Clara got down next to her and helped gather everything else.
Then she slipped into the chair again and dropped the supplies on the tray table as Clara righted it again. Leaning forward and bracing her elbows against her knees, she waited impatiently as the girl dabbed alcohol onto a cotton swab. When she reached up and began pressing it against the side of Rebecca's neck, however, Rebecca let out a sudden hiss of pain.
"I'm sorry," the girl murmured as she pulled the cotton ball away, "I didn't realize it would hurt you so much."
"No, it's fine," Rebecca said as she shook her head and leaned forward again, "I guess I just wasn't expecting it to be as deep as it is."
Shooting her an empathetic smile, the girl admitted, "It is a decent size, Miss Catalina. That's why I wanted to get it bandaged quickly."
"Right," the brunette murmured passively as Clara pressed the cotton swab to her neck. This time she felt nothing.
It is a decent size… She honestly hadn't thought that the wounds on either side of her neck were that large. Then again, she hadn't looked in a mirror or paid much notice to it since she had gotten to the inconspicuous little tavern. But if they were as 'decently-sized' as the girl said they were… then that meant Lust really had gone for the kill.
She nearly died… and by her best friend's hand too.
And yet, in a strange way the entire situation brought her a small sense of comfort. Lust had gone for the kill – had fully intended on it – and yet she couldn't because Riza stopped her. That meant there was still hope, right?
Right...?
"All finished."
Her thoughts interrupted, Rebecca blinked.
"I'm all finished," she said again as she set the roll of bandages on the tray table.
Reaching up, Rebecca confirmed that there was an ample amount of gauze and bandages wrapped around her throat. Brushing her fingers across the front and to the side of her neck, she could feel where the wound was, as well as the layers of gauze pads that were placed on top one another to absorb any additional blood.
"Thank you," she murmured as she pulled her hand away. "I really appreciate it."
"No problem," Clara said with a light smile. Pushing the tray table over to the side, she invited Rebecca to stand.
After flashing her one more smile, Rebecca stepped around her and began to make her way toward the voices she had been hearing. Pausing in the doorway, she rested a hand on the doorframe and strained to listen. After a few moments, she determined that the voices were coming from upstairs. Gripping the railing, she slowly eased her way up the staircase. Almost immediately the voices hushed as their owners too stopped to listen. Clearing her throat, she called, "It's just me guys," as she made it to the top.
Not giving her eyes enough time to adjust to the room's poor lighting, she instantly honed in on the sandy-haired individual propped upright on the small single bed that was pushed into the corner before realizing that there were three other men in addition to him in the room. Keeping her focus on him, however, she began to make her way over to his bed.
The men parted and made a small path for her as the corners of Jean's lip tugged upward. When she had made her way past them, they muttered something under their breaths, most likely a 'see you later' or some words of parting, to which he replied with something else. Honestly, she hadn't heard. She was too focused on her relief; too focused on him. After making it to his bed, Rebecca heard the last of the three men mill out, closing the door behind them to give Jean and her the privacy they deserved.
"Hey," she murmured as she sat down on the edge of the bed, "Sorry I didn't call. As you probably heard, things got a little—" She trailed off, however, when she realized that he wasn't listening, his eyes fixed on her neck. Suddenly feeling self-conscious about the bulgy wrap of bandages, she reached up to touch them when he shifted and propped himself up on his elbow. Using his free hand, he brushed his fingers over the gauze and wrappings before pressing his palm against her hand.
Looking back at him, her face fell, seeing that his expression had changed drastically. "Jean…?"
He swallowed thickly, his face contorting with pain as his eyes wandered up to hers.
"Je—"
"I'm sorry," he choked out as his fingers curled around her hand. "I just let you go and look what happened."
Rebecca shook her head and began to say, "There isn't anything to be sorry for. I—"
"There's everything to be sorry for," he gasped. "I let you go alone and you were nearly killed because of it." Pulling away from her and falling back against the pillows that were propping him up, he laid his arm over his eyes and uttered, "If I could actually move these damn legs, then maybe I would have been there to protect you."
"Jean," she tried to console him, "What do you mean by that? There's nothing you could have—"
"I've felt those spears, Rebecca. I know what they're capable of. She… she could have cut your head off!"
Reaching forward and grabbing his hand and pulling his arm away from his eyes, she held it between her own and eyed him confidently. "But she didn't, Jean. She didn't because it's just like you said. Riza is still in there. She's fighting."
"I know that," he uttered, "Because you're here right now. I know, I know. But if something had happened and she didn't protect you, where would you be now?"
Her mind immediately jumped to six feet under, but she dared not utter that phrase for both herself and him. "I know, Jean. I know. But you need to understand that what's done is done. It's over… but I'm still here."
He swallowed and said, "I know… But the thought of what could have happened is what's killing me, Becks. It's because I let you go alone that this even happened."
"Would you feel better if I took one of the guys with me every time I went out? Knowing that I was with someone?"
Casting his glare down and toward his idle legs, he murmured, "It would, yes. But," he continued as he raised his eyes to meet hers, "I wish it were me."
Feeling her hold on his hand loosen, she felt him pull away. Instead of gripping the sheets or laying his arms across his eyes, he reached up and brushed his fingers across her cheek. She moved closer and bowed her head as he pushed himself upward and onto his elbow once again. Leaning his head forward, he rested his forehead against hers and repeated, "I wish it were me…"
When they reached Dr. Knox's house, Edward did not even bother to knock. Instead, he clumsily reached out and fumbled around with the door handle before grasping and turning it open. The moment he walked in, he was instantly greeted by a very concerned Winry Rockbell. "Ed, Al, where have you two—" She stopped herself, however, when she looked Edward in the eye. Taking a step forward, she murmured, "Ed…?"
That's when she noticed too that the boys were not alone. With a small gasp, she took a step back and watched as Edward led his brother and the two strangers inside.
Rather than passing her, Izumi stopped and said, "You must be Winry Rockbell. We've heard a lot about you from Ed and Al." Extending her hand to the young girl, she added, "My name is Izumi Curtis and this is my husband, Sig. We're both—"
"Oh," Winry said, "You're Ed and Al's alchemy teachers."
"That's right," Izumi said with a small nod.
"It's... nice to meet you," Winry murmured, "Although… I don't remember Ed saying you two were coming. If I had remembered, I would have cleaned up a bit and—"
"It was last minute," Edward muttered as he shoved his hands in his pockets. "I called them here because I needed to discuss something important with Teacher."
Clearly seeing that Edward was trying to herd them toward the living room, Izumi suggested, "How about we go and sit down?"
"You can follow me," Alphonse proposed, taking the lead and ushering Izumi and Sig toward Dr. Knox's couches and chairs.
Just as Edward was about to follow, Winry grasped his arm and pulled him back toward her. When he looked back at her, he saw a look of concern cross her features. "Ed," she asked quietly, as to not alert the newcomers to their conversation, "What is this about? Is this related to the reason why you haven't been around these past couple of days?"
"It is," he admitted after a few moments. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to; I'll understand. I can tell you about it later if you want."
Giving his arm a light squeeze, she said, "Ed, I've been worried about you. I need to stay because I want to know."
Almost feeling as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, he allowed his shoulders to sag as he said, "Alright, just… Just wait for me to finish before saying anything. I just really want to get through it as quickly as possible."
"Okay," she replied as she loosened her grip on his arm, allowing him to pull it free.
Taking a step away from her, he allowed her to lead him into the living room. Just as he took a seat on one of the couches next to Teacher and across from Winry, Dr. Knox appeared in the doorway.
Pulling out the toothpick he had wedged between his lips, he eyed every individual in the room before muttering, "Ah, more guests. Please make yourself at home."
"Sorry," Alphonse apologized from his seat next to Winry, "But we had to call them. We need to talk to them as soon as we can."
Knox lifted his brows and grumbled, "Is this about what that girl, Lan Fan, said?" When Al nodded, the doctor dipped his head in understanding. Sinking down into the armchair nearest his fireplace, he said, "The sedatives just took hold again, so I've got a moment." Replacing the toothpick, he added, "I'd like to hear what you have to say."
Seeing that everyone had settled themselves and had shown no signs of moving or leaving, Ed sighed. While he was thankful that he wouldn't have to explain it for the second time that day, he was also unsure of how to approach telling them. Last time he had Mustang's men to help ease him into the story for the General and Madame, but now it was just Al and him.
He decided, however, that he would approach it the way he had originally intended to with Teacher: By having her recall what she did know first.
"Do you remember when we fought that person in Dublith?"
Izumi furrowed her brows. "You mean that one that claimed to be a Homunculus, right?" she asked.
"Yeah," he said as he leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees, entwining his steel and flesh fingers. After looking down at them for a few moments, still struggling with the words in his head, he glanced up to see that her focus was intently on him. Letting go a slow sigh, he continued, "There's more than one out there."
"More," she asked as she furrowed her brows. "How many more?"
Edward moved his shoulders up and down and admitted, "I can't say for sure. But since Dublith we've encountered at least three more."
"Three," she echoed. When he nodded, she added, "Is that the reason you called? Because there are more of them?"
"In a way, yes."
Seemingly confused by his response, Izumi continued to leer at him, her expression demanding that he elaborate.
Feeling his shoulders slump as another breath escaped him, Edward then murmured, "Have you ever heard of the possibility that a Philosopher's Stone could have a consciousness? A personality or disposition that it could take on?"
Her lips turned downward in a frown as she mulled over the likelihood and possibility in her mind. He could see that she was considering it, genuinely thinking about it. That was good. It meant that she was, at the very least, willing to think about the possibility. But after a minute of concentrated thought, she shook her head and admitted, "I haven't heard of something like that; I suppose it isn't outside the realm of possibility. But," she continued as her confusion grew, "I don't understand what you're getting at, Edward."
"I seem all over the place, I know," he said with a half-hearted smile, "But I'm getting to it, I promise. I figured I'd see if you had any information before I went on."
After she slowly shook her head again to convey that she did not have anything to give him, he said, "Since our journey began, Al and I have seen Stones that have ranged from a solid mass to a viscous liquid." Looking up and toward Al and focusing on his brother's soul-fire eyes, he continued, "We've even seen them working as a functional core, like a heart."
When Izumi focused her attention on her younger pupil, Alphonse nodded and said, "It's true. Colonel Mustang almost killed one by depleting its Stone of its power."
"Almost," Izumi mused as she looked between the two brothers.
"Yeah," Edward clarified as she focused on him once more, "Almost.
"So now imagine that the viscous form of the Stone is injected into a person's vein, allowing it to mix in with and spread throughout the body. If the Stone has a consciousness like we believe it does and it circulates throughout every part of the body, then you think there'd be a chance that it could completely take over. And if so, what could be done to remove it."
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dr. Knox's lips part slightly as his expression changed to one of realization. If he knew what Edward was getting at, surely she would see it too. So when he looked at his teacher, he was not surprised to see that her expression mirrored the doctor's. "So what you're telling me," she began slowly, "Is that you think there is a chance a Homunculus could be created using a human being?"
"I don't think 'there's a chance,'" he replied, "Because I know that it's possible, and now I want to know if you think it's possible to reverse it."
Izumi opened her mouth to respond but then shut it, only to open it again and say, "How do you know it's possible?"
"Do you think there's a way of reversing it," he asked desperately.
"Edward," she started again, "How do you know it's possible?"
"I want to know if you think it's—"
"Edward," she snapped, done with his attempts at avoiding the subject, "I need you to tell me how you know it's possible, then I will tell you my thoughts."
At last coming to the part of the conversation he was dreading, Edward turned his focus down to his hands, which here folded in his lap. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Al doing the same, entwining his massive gloved fingers together in anxious anticipation of Edward's response.
Up until that point he had distanced himself from the reality of the situation by focusing on the alchemical process he had devised in his mind. He had spent what seemed like countless hours engrossed in the topic, constantly turning it over and changing it in his mind until he was at last pleased with the scenario. But now, hearing Teacher's demands for how he knew it was possible brought him back to the situation, making it all the more real once again.
This wasn't just a hypothesis he made up for laughs or speculation; no, it was a possibility, a reality. Something that was real and tangible. This was about Mustang and Hawkeye and how to save them.
"Edward…"
He looked up, only to find that Teacher had kneeled in front of him, her hands on both of his shoulders. Blinking once, twice, her worried expression came into better focus as his eyes adjusted to the change.
"You're dodging the question, Ed," she said softly. "I need you to please tell me how you know this to be true, because you seem to have thought about this a lot since I talked to you on the phone."
Casting his glance toward Al, he saw that his younger brother was watching him intently, though he had not made a move to answer. Slowly letting his eyes wander around the room, he saw that Winry, Dr. Knox, and Sig all had their eyes on him. Then he allowed himself to face Izumi again, although he directed his gaze toward the floor. Finally letting go of the breath he hadn't realized he was holding, Edward murmured, "My commanding officer and his first Lieutenant. It happened to them."
Immediately following his statement, he heard a quiet gasp. Turning his head, he saw Winry with her hands clapped over her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. Though she wasn't knowledgeable in alchemy and many of its properties, he knew that she was aware of the presence of the Homunculi; especially after that encounter where Al was nearly shredded to pieces by…
Pushing the thought away, he looked away from her, seeing that Dr. Knox too seemed shocked. His mouth was hanging open slightly, surprise reflected in his dark eyes. He out of the others in the room was the next person besides Edward himself and Alphonse to know that the possibility was there, especially after seeing Lan Fan's reaction to that picture in the newspaper of Mustang and his men. Still, the doctor's expression also told Edward that he didn't want it to be true.
"Edward…"
Looking back toward Teacher, he saw something he didn't expect to see in her eyes: pain. Whether it was for the situation or for him, he wasn't sure. Maneuvering him so that she could see his face more clearly, she uttered, "You're sure? You're absolutely sure that it was them and not someone impersonating them? These... things seem capable of a lot. Surely there are some that can change their form."
"Yeah," he muttered with a languid bob of his head. "We're sure it's them. They… they managed to talk to us."
"Talk to you?" she asked softly.
He nodded. "They managed to break free for a few moments to warn us…" Looking into her eyes for the first time that evening, he said, "I knew right then that it was them."
"When did you see them?" she gently pried.
"The other day." Edward watched as Izumi turned toward the metallic voice that interrupted them. Seeing that their attention was now on him, Alphonse looked down and began to anxiously rub his gloved hands together, then went on. "The other day in the Colonel's office… We saw them alter between the Homunculi and themselves. They tried to tell us what they could and," he added as his voice grew quiet, "They told us to 'end them.'"
"And there's no way we could do that," Edward said as he balled his hands into fists. "There's no way!"
"Ed… Al," Izumi said as she looked between the two boys. "? You clearly have what happened worked out, or at least a very believable possibility. But did you stop to think that maybe they know something you don't? That maybe there isn't—"
"Don't say that!" Leaping up from his seat, Edward glared down at his teacher in disbelief. "We've heard it time and time again. 'Nothing is impossible…' We need to at least believe that if we want to find a way!"
Izumi opened her mouth to counter him, but something about his expression or words stopped her from saying what words had immediately come to her mind. After closing her mouth and reflecting on what he had said, she got to her feet and put her hands on his shoulders again. "Is that what you've been doing since you called me, Ed?" Before he could answer, she continued, "I can see it in your eyes. You haven't slept since then, have you?"
He should have known that she'd be as perceptive as ever. Casting his eyes away from her face, he lied, "Yeah, I've slept a little…"
From the corner of his eye he could see her frown. She caught him. It figured. But instead of scolding him and calling him out on his little lie or bringing up the fact that they were part of the military she despised, she simply shook her head slowly and said, "They're obviously very important to you, Ed."
"They don't deserve it," he muttered, keeping his glare fixed on the floorboards. "They don't deserve being prisoners in their own bodies." He clenched his fists to stop their tremble and gasped, "It isn't fair."
With a sigh, she pulled him into her, and for once he did not fight her. Instead, he rested his head on her shoulder and shuddered. Raising a hand, she gently pressed his head against her shoulder as she freed her other hand and silently invited Alphonse, who had gotten to his feet, over to them.
Edward heard the clambering, metallic steps as his brother wandered over to them and stopped. Then he heard him creak and groan as he bowed his head forward.
Oblivious to the cool metal and uncomfortable angle the young boy was standing at, Izumi wrapped her arm around his body and cradled his head against her other shoulder, embracing the two young boys.
"You can say what you want about the military," Edward muttered into her shirt, "But they don't deserve it. I… I won't let them die."
"I know," she replied. "I'll admit that I don't know anything about this, certainly not as much as you; but if you believe there's a chance then I will help any way that I can."
"… Thank you," he murmured as he pulled away.
Just as she was about to reply, Edward saw something over her shoulder and in the hallway. Feeling the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, he zeroed in on it, only to discover that it was Fu.
Seeing that Edward had spotted him, the old man grumbled, "You said that your friends had been taken by those monsters, right?" When Ed furrowed his brows and dipped his head in acknowledgement, Fu continued, "Then I ask that you free Master Ling as well. For he too was taken by them."
They had searched high and low for days now, and there was still no sign of the young Xingese girl's small, furry friend. With each passing day, Scar had found himself growing less and less certain that they would find her, whereas the young girl's determination only seemed to grow.
"She has to be around here somewhere! She wouldn't just disappear," May reasoned as she led him down the same alleyway they had explored the day before.
Rather than argue with her, knowing that it would fall on deaf ears, Scar willingly trudged along behind her, having decided that this would be the final day they searched. There were more pressing matters to attend to…
Just as they passed by a large drainpipe, Scar froze, something bright red catching his eye. Taking a step back, he saw a copious amount of dried blood on its inner surface, the rest of it that would have been on the outside having been washed away with the previous day's rain. Stooping down next to it, he reached into it and swept his fingers over it, confirming that it was old and dried.
Still, something pressed for him to advance. Ducking down, he crept into the tunnel, finding that, while it was tight, he would be able to advance without getting stuck.
"Mr. Scar?"
Turning to look over his shoulder, he saw May looking toward him warily.
Nodding down to the floor to make the blood stain known to her, he muttered, "You may continue searching if you wish. There is something that needs to be tended to."
"So you sense it too," she asked as she reached up to wipe away the sweat that had accumulated on her brow. She must have seen a faint look of surprise cross his features, because she followed up by murmuring, "There's something down there… And it's big."
Despite warning the girl against following him, Scar soon found himself leading her through the airshafts that ran below the city's surface. In a fit of desperation, she had convinced herself that if her furry companion was not above ground, then perhaps she was below. Maybe she had sensed that presence, whatever it was, and had followed it in the hopes that her owner would do the same?
At least that's what he had determined after listening to her reason with herself for the past ten minutes. So when she grew quiet, he immediately stopped and turned to look over his shoulder at her.
"Hello?"
That voice… A man's?
Seeing that she was looking down through the grating she had stopped on, Scar backtracked to do the same.
Indeed, there was a man down below, his head craned back and looking directly up at them. "Hello," he called again, "Is someone there?"
May opened her mouth to speak, but a hardened glare from Scar caused her to exhale and clamp her jaw shut. However, that small gasp alerted the man to their presence.
"Are you from the outside? How did you get in here?!"
Realizing that they had been discovered, and sensing that the man could do little harm to them, Scar growled, "First tell me about yourself. Who are you? And what are you doing down here?"
An expression of relief and shock spread across the man's features. "My name's Dr. Mauro. I want to know what's going on outside. Please come down."
Clenching his jaw, Scar hesitated to answer him back. The young girl, however, had no problem doing that. "Are you a prisoner?"
Surprised that there were two individuals rather than one, 'Dr. Mauro' said, "Yes, I am. But please come down. The guard won't be coming around for a while."
Hearing the sound of metal scraping against metal, Scar looked up in time to see that May had pushed the grating away and was already dropping down from their hiding place to meet the man. Following after, he landed next to her and slowly rose to his feet, watching the man's eyes scan from May over to him.
"A young Xingese girl," 'Dr. Mauro' muttered, "And an Ishvalan." A beat later, however, his eyes widened. "An Ishvalan with a scar on his forehead?! Are you 'Scar,' the one who's been killing all the State Alchemists?"
"… So they call me," Scar replied hardly.
The man stood transfixed for a moment, processing the information in his mind. Then, much to their surprise, he began to laugh, burying his face into his hands. "My god…"
"What is a doctor doing here," May asked as she began to look around the room, looking for signs of her companion.
"Are you being detained," Scar asked, allowing the girl to continue to search as the man pulled his hands away from his face.
"Yes," he said as he looked down at his shaking hands. "They force me to cooperate. And they're going to use me even more."
At the vague mention of 'they,' Scar's thoughts turned to the creatures they had encountered, especially the one they encountered recently: Mustang's subordinate, the woman with the healing wound. "With those 'things' called Homunculi," he asked. "What are they? They seem to know everything about the Ishvalan Civil War."
'Dr. Mauro' nodded. "It's true. They control this country from the shadows. Their power is overwhelming, their methods a mystery.
"I… I hate myself for letting them take me without even putting up a fight!"
Coming back into the conversation, May quipped, "If you don't want to join them, Dr. Mauro, why not escape and fight them? We could lead you outside and away from here."
"I can't do that," he said as his hands relaxed and fell to his side, and he bowed his head in shame. "An entire village is being held hostage. Last time I tried to hide from them, I took refuge under a new name in a small eastern village. That's how they were able to pressure me.
"They vowed that if I tried to escape or even kill myself… They'll destroy the entire village." Sinking to the ground and folding his hands in his lap, he uttered, "And no, it's not just a threat. I have no doubt they would. So please don't take me out with you…"
Feeling anger bubbling within him, Scar growled, "My people have been all put wiped out. Do you honestly think I would feel pity over a story like that?"
"I know," the man admitted. "You must truly hate us. That's why I have a favor to ask of you…" Closing his eyes, he swallowed thickly and uttered, "I want you to kill me." Ignoring May's gasp, he opened his eyes and looked up at Scar. "My real name is Tim Marcoh. I am the alchemist who created the Philosopher's Stone that led to the murder of your people."
When he heard those words, Scar felt his insides begin to churn.
"My research has taken the lives of countless Ishvalans. I am your nemesis. Whether I refuse to cooperate with the Homunculi or choose to take my own life, innocent villagers will be killed. Undoubtedly, even if I continue to live, I'll be utilized as a 'sacrifice' and contribute to the slaughter of countless more people.
"So please," he begged quietly, "Allow the girl to leave and kill me. If I'm killed by an intruder from the outside, the lives of the villagers can be saved. And if I'm dead, them my captors' plan can be thwarted… Or at the very least delayed.
"It is a stroke of luck that you, an alchemist assassin, arrived here when I was alone and powerless…"
Looking up at him once more, he continued, "Scar… I see a deity in you. Kill me! Right here and now! I will atone for my sins with death—"
No longer able to control the rage he had pent up, Scar lunged forward and grabbed Marcoh's face, slamming him into the ground. Pushing May off of his arm and ignoring her scream, he seethed, "I still haven't heard the full story about Ishval yet! What were you bastards really doing there?! Tell me everything Marcoh, before my right hand destroys you!"
"I'm surprised," 'the General' mused as he leaned back against his desk and eyed the three men that remained sitting at theirs. "I thought you had resigned, seeing that you all failed to show up yesterday."
"We had a good reason not to," Breda growled as he eyed the Homunculus warily. "And besides, we all called in."
"True," 'Mustang' said with a mild shrug, "And I have to say that I'm impressed you came back so quickly. After all, I'd imagine this must be difficult for you to process."
Not giving him the satisfaction he craved, Breda grumbled, "Well, someone has to watch out for the Colonel."
"How sweet," he muttered sarcastically as he folded his arms over his chest. Casting his glance toward Fuery, he added, "Holding up alright, Sergeant?"
Upon being addressed, the younger man, who had been staring down at his desk the entire time, managed to nod quickly, muttering a soft "yes" in reply.
"That's wonderful to hear," the Homunculus responded with feigned sympathy. "And speaking of someone holding up alright, there seems to be a certain someone missing from the hospital today." Looking from Breda to Falman, the Homunculus scoffed, "You two wouldn't happen to know where Jean Havoc might be, would you?"
Shrugging in reply, Breda uttered, "I dunno. Maybe his family took him out for a prolonged stroll. He did mention that the hospital air was a bit stuffy." Seeing that Wrath was clearly unamused by his antics, the Second Lieutenant decided that it was his turn to pry. "So," he asked as he eyed 'the General' with a critical glare, "Where's our favorite lieutenant?"
A sinister smile crossed the Homunculus's face. "The Lieutenant is... running a few errands today."
As Marcoh finished his tale and grew quiet, Scar quietly folded his arms across his chest and glared at him. May, sensing the sheer amount of disgust radiating off of him, had wisely decided to sit quietly, her hands woven together and in her lap.
After allowing the silence to continue on and after he had processed what the doctor told him, Scar rumbled, "So the Stone that was used to massacre my people was created out of the lives of other Ishvalans?" When Marcoh looked up at him, Scar could clearly see the confirmation and guilt in his eyes. Feeling that swell of anger consume him once more, he sprang up again, and grabbed Marcoh by the collar of his shift and hoisted him into the air. He heard the young girl cry out again, but he elected to ignore her once more.
"You forced my countrymen to kill their own people! Don't think I'm going to let you die so easily!"
"I understand," Marcoh gasped, "I'll do anything to atone my sins."
Clenching his teeth and turning his head away, Scar slammed Marcoh to the ground and stumbled over to the wall, the anger and hurt consuming him. Pounding his fist against the wall, he leaned forward and began to breathe heavily, trying to push everything down as his mind began to clear… and his thoughts began to race.
There was still so much more he did not know… And that could not be done here.
He heard May patter over to the man and whisper something to him, most likely helping him sit up. After taking a final, deep breath, he uttered, "Marcoh," as he turned around. "Tell me more about the alchemist named Kimblee."
Genuinely surprised by Scar's question, the doctor stammered, "Ah… Alright."
"Also," he continued as he slowly unclenched his fists, "There was one section of my brother's research that I could not decipher. Before he died, he told me that there was something strange about this country's alchemy. I'm guessing that is what he wrote in his notes.
"You are a skilled alchemist. Can you decipher it?"
"'There's something strange about this country's alchemy,'" Marcoh repeated back to him as he rubbed his chin thoughtfully, turning away from Scar and May to think. Then, jerking his head upward, he said, "I'll try."
"Good," Scar replied, "Now I'm breaking you—"
"What's this?" a new voice suddenly purred.
Snapping his head around and toward the voice, he saw Mustang's subordinate, the blonde-haired woman, step forward from the shadows as a second, larger shape crept up and stopped behind her.
Grinning widely as her gloved fingers elongated and took on the shape of spears, she mused, "Leaving so soon?"
Another sleepless night had visited Edward again. This time, however, he knew he wasn't alone. Despite everyone going off in their respective directions after Fu explained his encounter with Ling. While Edward was relieved knowing that he was still alive, he also knew that, judging by the encounter Fu had described, he too had been taken. Just like the Colonel and Lieutenant.
When they reconvened in the morning, Edward could see the exhaustion in their eyes.
Even Winry looked exhausted, her eyes slightly reddened and her expression solemn as she made her way down the stairs that morning. But before Edward could even begin to console her, Dr. Knox announced that they had run out of gauze and bandages. With his upcoming shift, however, it was impossible to for him to depart and pick up the necessary supplies while still finishing his morning treatments for Lan Fan.
So now here they were; himself, Alphonse, Izumi, and Winry. The four of them were making the trip to the nearest supply store in order to stock up on as much supplies as possible, because for now it was too dangerous to go alone.
As they rounded the corner and onto the street their destination was on, the round beneath their feet trembled as an explosion tore through the air.
Leaving Izumi and Winry behind, Edward and Al raced ahead and turned down the first alley they came upon and came to a halt. The buildings on the opposite end of the narrow road were no longer standing, reduced to a pile of rubbish and bricks. Standing atop the pile, grinning down at the two figures standing at the bottom, was Hawkeye – no, Edward reminded himself – Lust. And beside her, hunched over and regenerating from the explosion, was Gluttony.
Edward immediately recognized two of the three additional individuals as the young Xingese girl they had encountered days before and Scar. When he got closer, he also saw that the other person was lying just beyond the rubble, with bricks scattered about them.
Just as they skidded to a stop a few meters behind Scar and the young girl, Lust looked up at them and smirked. "Well, isn't this a surprise? I figured you'd be too busy looking for a way to free the Colonel and Lieutenant." Narrowing her eyes playfully, she added, "I guess I was wrong."
"Hawkeye," Edward cried as he took a step forward, "Are you there? Answer me if you—"
He was cut off by her laugh. "The Lieutenant won't be coming out to play for a while, I'm afraid. She's far too spent to even say 'hello.'" When she heard footsteps approaching beyond Edward and Alphonse, she looked past the two boys and smiled. "It seems you've brought company. It's a shame you had to visit while I was working. Why don't you come back after I've taken care of Scar?"
At the mention of his name, the man lunged toward her. Before he made it halfway up to them, Gluttony launched itself at the Ishvalan man, its jaws wide and ready to latch down on his perceived prey.
Much to the beast's surprise, the scarred man effortlessly dodged his jaw and slammed his right hand against its head. A series of blue sparks rocked through its body before diving through it, blasting it to pieces.
Panic immediately took hold of Edward as he instinctively rushed forward, now seeing who Scar's real target was.
Extending his hand as he began to dart up the pile of rubble and toward Scar, he watched in horror as the man dodged Lust's attack and grabbed her by the throat.
Despite his deep-seated knowledge of their regenerative capabilities, the vision of Hawkeye being killed dangled before his mind's eye. He couldn't see it. Couldn't allow it to happen. Not while she was still in there somewhere.
No… He would not let it happen.
As Scar's tell-tale blue sparks began to flit around his arm, Edward cried, "Stop," as he closed in on them.
He saw Scar flinch and hesitate when his cry reached his ears. That hesitation proved to be the man's downfall as Edward watched Lust's spears tear through Scar's abdomen.