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“Ow, ow, ow!” Roy winced and jerked his head away. “That hurts!”
Chris gripped his chin and the tweezers tighter as she continued the painstaking process of removing all the glass that had been embedded into the boy’s scalp after getting into a barfight a few blocks away.
What fifteen-year-old got into a bar fight?
Oh. Right. This one.
Her stubborn, hard-headed nephew still, after all these years, thought that rising to the top of the criminal underworld and running it was the ultimate goal. No matter how many times she tried to convince him to go do something else with his life, he would shake his head and tell her, ‘I can’t do anything else with my life. I don’t have the power.’
She understood what he was saying, of course. People like them didn’t rise to the top. Not even to the top of the gangs they worked with. And, the poorer you were, the harder it was to claw your way out of it and into a respectable life. But… well, Roy deserved better than to live out the rest of his life as some grunt for the Xingese Mafia, only to die by age thirty in a shoot-out or territory dispute. He was smart.
Smarter than smart.
She’d never say this out loud for fear of giving the boy a bigger head than he already had, but she reckoned he might damn be near the genius level of intellect. It didn’t take long for her to realize just why Apollyon had taken such an interest in him.
Roy could be doing something with his life. He could be out making the world a better place instead of figuring out the best routes to run Xingese opium into Amestris.
But he wasn’t.
He was here.
Sitting in a dingy bar.
Getting into bar fights.
And having her pick glass out of his skin. She suspected the only reason he came to her this time instead of Dr. Nozdryov was that she was closer.
“Hold still, brat,” she grunted, yanking his head back into position and pulling out a few more pieces.
“But it hurts.”
“Should have thought about that before you insulted his mother.” She yanked his chin back once more.
“He deserved it! You heard Nessa. He was getting all handsy with her and making jokes about ‘shoplifting.’ Besides, I won the fight. That’s all that matters.”
She scowled and pulled out another shard of glass with a bit more roughness than strictly necessary.
“One of these days you’re going to go after a fish that’s too big, even for you. And then what’s going to happen?”
“I’ll come out on top,” Roy said. Despite being world-weary and wiser than most adults because of his upbringing, he still had the brash stubbornness of most teenagers. And that worried her.
“So you think you could defeat a god?”
Roy shrugged. “Yeah. If I had enough time to plan.”
She cursed under her breath. This boy. This stupid boy was going to be the death of her. And the death of himself.
She could see the road he was heading down now, and she didn’t like it. Roy might think he was invincible, but he wasn’t. And what’s more, is that he was getting worse with each passing month.
She had hoped that after Apollyon had left Roy might start settling down, maybe even go to school. But it was like the opposite had happened. Now that he didn’t have to fear Apollyon, he was getting more destructive. Brasher. Going after bigger and bigger people and not caring what happened.
She was at her wit’s end and didn’t know how to stop or even curtail this downward spiral. The only thing she was thankful for was that he appeared to not be getting into drugs. She supposed ‘don’t get high off your own supply’ was a core tenant of his belief, and given that he was helping run pretty much every drug you could think of, that didn’t leave many options. Though that smoking habit of his was starting to get on her nerves (pot calling the kettle black, much?) and the drinking, while not bad, certainly wasn’t something that she wanted to encourage.
She needed to do something.
She needed someone to help put the fear of god back into this boy and reign him back in. He was smart. He could do great things. But at this rate, he’d self-destruct long before he had the chance to accomplish anything.
And she had a feeling that the only way for him to actually become the person he could be was to cut him off from this city and the people who ran it. Only then might he see that there was more to life than stealing cars, running drugs, and getting into fights.
“What?” Roy asked, looking up at her, eyes a bit unfocused from a suspected concussion.
Chris dropped his chin, mind made up, and walked over to her desk. She pulled out a piece of paper that had on them a list of addresses and names and handed it to him.
“Here are some alchemists I know. I want you to write to each of them and ask to be their apprentice.”
Roy laughed and took the paper. “I’m doing fine on my own. I don’t need a teacher.”
“Books and self-study can only take you so far. I hear you complaining to Naill about all the blocks you’ve hit. You need to study.”
He crumpled up the paper and tossed it in the trash. “Nah. I’m good.”
She stopped herself from smacking this boy upside his concussed, glass-infused head.
“Fine then, let me put this another way. You write these letters, or you’re out on the street. Pick one.”
His smile dropped instantly. “What? You can’t be serious?”
“I am serious.”
“No, that’s not fair!” He jumped to his feet, tipping over slightly before managing to steady himself.
“Life’s not fair, boy. Besides, all your fights are starting to bring people here that aren’t looking for what I’m selling. They’re looking for you. And they’re putting the girls in danger.”
This got Roy to hesitate. “Danger?” He asked, looking much more like a child than he had previously.
She nodded and held firm. Now was not the time to coddle him and assure him that everything would be alright. “That’s right. The more you fight, the more likely someone is to do a drive-by. And who do you think they’re going to hit with their poor aim?”
She didn’t know if the lack of color in his face was because of his concussion or because he was now starting to get how much shit he had gotten himself into. Either way, it was working. Roy might claim he wanted all the power in the world, but that wasn’t technically true. He didn’t want power. He wanted to keep people safe. He wanted to keep the people he loved safe. And, right now, the only way he saw as a way to do that was by rising to the top of the criminal underworld and becoming so powerful that no one would dare touch him.
But power came in many different forms. If she could just get him to see that, then he might make something of himself. He might actually leave this horrid world behind and live a good life.
He sighed and dug the note out of the trash. “They’re not going to respond.” He said glumly.
“Why do you say that?”
“Cause I’m trash. No one wants me as an apprentice. They want Alex-Louis Armstrong or something like that.”
“All I ask is that you write the letters.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, stumbling out of the room.
“And actually try, boy.” She called after him. “If I find out you didn’t try I’ll make De Falco look like a saint!”
“I got it! Get off my back!” He shouted back.
Once alone in the room, she sighed and sat down at her desk, head in her hands. Roy wasn’t wrong. Alchemists were a weird bunch. Some of them were elitist in the worst sense. Others were so protective over their secrets they’d rather it die with them than pass it on to someone who might be able to improve it.
It was a crapshoot if Roy would get a response or not. But she hoped, for his sake, he would.
*****
“So then, I’m completely stuck on how to get the oxygen separate from the hydrogen but still keep it stable, you know?” Roy rambled as he continued to scribble down notes and shit on a napkin at the bar. He was pretty sure that Niall was completely asleep at this point, but kept rambling on anyways. He looked less insane if it at least appeared someone was listening to him.
“Oxygen and hydrogen when separated are both flammable so I need to figure out how to keep the air flammable, but not too flammable, right? Oh, and I’m also stuck on the whole fitness thing. I thought I was pretty fit, but I tried to build that bunker for Jiang Ai and damn near put myself in a coma. Do you think there’s a limit to how much you can do in one sitting?”
Niall mumbled something and slumped back further in his seat.
It had been a few months since Aunt Chris had told him he was putting his family in danger. He never thought about it like that. If anyone had a problem with him, then they could deal with him. His sisters and aunt had nothing to do with his fights.
But… he realized now how stupid that line of thinking was. Of course, the people he pissed off would go after his family. Why wouldn’t they? His sisters were easy targets. Yes, they could make you hurt if they wanted to, but some of these guys were much more powerful than that.
Not only did he realize how right Aunt Chris was about that, but he also had to admit that he was getting stuck more and more on his alchemy. It was like there was a wall that was keeping him from reaching his true potential. The books seemed to be no help. He thought about breaking into Armstrong’s mansion again but decided against it. He didn’t want to push his luck too much. And, just because Armstrong was nice to him once did not mean he was going to be nice to him again. Many years had passed since then, and it was easy to grow in cruelty as you got older.
But, despite him sending out letter after letter (fifteen in total) he had yet to hear back from any of them.
It was just as he thought.
No one wanted a piece of gutter trash as a student. It didn’t matter how good his alchemy was or how willing he was to learn. All they saw was a poor Xingese punk and figured he’d steal all their jewelry or something.
Niall’s head slipped off his hand and he smacked his forehead on the table. “What’s happening?” He said, sitting up and looking around wide-eyed.
“Nothing,” Roy sighed, flicking some peanut shells off the counter and onto the floor. He’d have to do it later anyways. Man, trying to be an upstanding citizen was boring. He should see if the Pink Elephants had any heists they wanted him to be a part of. Technically, it wasn’t getting into a fight.
“Why do you look so depressed?” He yawned.
“Cause no one wants to teach me shit.”
“I thought you didn’t want them to teach you shit?”
He shrugged. “I hit a wall, what can I say? If I want to become even more powerful, I need help.”
“You’re already powerful enough, mate,” Niall said, yawning once more.
“Do you see De Falco, Jiang Ai, Petrovich, and O’Folley kissing my feet?”
Niall didn’t answer.
“Then I’m not powerful enough.”
The door to the bar opened.
Roy looked at the new patron and made a face. “That guy looks insane.”
Seriously, he was pale with deep circles under his eyes. Roy would have taken him for a scratcher, but he wasn’t scratching. Still, something about his eyes gave him the creeps. They were… obsessive.
Niall slid off the stool. “I’ll go tell your aunt, and see if she knows who it is.”
“Good thinking. I’ll distract him until then.” Roy said, grabbing a bowl of nuts and walking over to the newcomer. A few of the other patrons had taken notice and were whispering amongst themselves.
“Can I help you with something?” he asked. “Need me to tell you anything about how this place works?”
The man himself looked very uncomfortable about being in a brothel. Which wasn’t unusual. A lot of people were uncomfortable their first time. He kept casting sideways glances at Ruth, though. Not in an ‘I’d like her for a few hours’ kind of way. More like a ‘the sooner I can get out of here the better’ kind of way.
The man looked down at him, crazy eyes seeming to study every single inch of Roy. He wasn’t one to shrink away from people studying him, but something about this made him very uncomfortable. It reminded him of Apollyon.
“Yes, I’m looking for—”
“Berthold didn’t know you’d be in the city,” Aunt Chris called, stepping out from the back room and followed by a still very nervous-looking Niall.
So Aunt Chris knew him? Strange. Roy was certain he’d never seen this man before in his life.
“Yes, well… I got…” ‘Berthold’ dug around in his pockets, cursing under his breath before pulling out a wrinkled piece of paper.
Berthold. Berthold. Berthold… Why did that name seem so familiar?
“This. Roy Mustang? Where is he?”
Oh, shit. The day had come! Someone was out to pop a cap in his ass because he beat his son up a few months ago.
“You’re looking at him,” Chris said.
“Him?” ‘Berthold’ said, pointing at Niall.
“The one standing in front of you, Hawkeye,” Chris sighed.
Berthold Hawkeye.
Berthold.
Hawkeye.
Shit! Berthold Hawkeye!
One of the people he had written a letter to ask to be his apprentice. He was here! He looked crazy. And he smelled… a bit like old cheese and overripe fruit?
Berthold’s eyes turned back to him.
Roy didn’t know what to say. Should he call him sir? Should he bow? Should he start talking about Alchemy?
Berthold Hawkeye flattened out the paper and flipped it over to the back where Roy had drawn a transmutation circle to show that he did have some pre-existing talent. The master wouldn’t be starting from scratch.
“This.” He pointed a gnarled finger at it with fingernails that were just a bit too long. “Can you make this work?”
“Um, yeah. That’s why I drew it.”
Aunt Chris smacked her forehead with her palm.
”Try to be a little respectful, boy.” She muttered in Xingese.
“Show me.”
Okay. Apparently, Berthold Hawkeye wasn’t exactly a brilliant conversationalist.
“Alright… like, now?”
“I’d rather not sit in this filthy city much longer.”
“Then why’d you come here? Come on, the alley should be big enough,” he said, leading him out the door.
“Because I wanted to meet you in person before I made a decision. You might be trying to steal my work,” he said, looking behind him as if someone was about to mug him here and now.
“I’m not trying to steal your work,” Roy assured him, kneeling on the ground, pulling out a piece of chalk, and getting to work.
Berthold Hawkeye wrinkled his nose at the stinking trash that surrounded them. Roy’s face burned with shame though he tried not to show it. He wasn’t going to get his hopes up. He wasn’t going to get this apprenticeship. He’d show what he could do. Berthold Hawkeye would burst out laughing, call him a fucking idiot, and then disappear into the night.
Then, Roy would go back inside, tell Aunt Chris he tried, and talk to Niall about overthrowing O’Folley in a few months. Because clearly, this alchemy thing wasn’t going to work out.
Once the circle was finished, he put his hands to it. A brief crackle of lightning later and in the center sat an hourglass filled with water. He picked it up and handed it to Berthold Hawkeye.
“It’s not exactly accurate, but close enough.”
He turned it over, studying it. “Where’d you get the water from?”
Roy furrowed his brow. “Um… the air? It’s like 70% water here.”
“And the sand to make the glass?”
He gestured to the pavement beneath their feet. “It’s made with sand. Sand makes glass. Just extract it and use that.”
“You don’t add anything?” He turned the hourglass over once more.
“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not exactly swimming in cash.” Roy spat. “I can’t keep buying new materials every time I want to try something. I gotta improvise.”
He turned the hourglass over once more. “It’s too complicated.”
“What?”
“You circle. It’s too complicated. It should be simpler.” He turned on his heels and walked out of the alleyway.
“Um.. okay?” Should he go after him? Ask if he got the apprenticeship.
“Two months. Your aunt knows where I live. She can call me when you come. I don’t like smokers. Makes my work more dangerous.”
“Wait, what?” Before Roy could question any more, though, Berthold Hawkeye was gone.
He turned and headed back into the bar. Everyone was there, waiting with bated breath.
“How did it go?” Aunt Chris asked.
“I don’t… I don’t know.”
“Well, what did he say?” Vanessa said, bouncing on her toes.
“Two months and to have you call him when I show up?” He looked to Chris for clarification.
For a few seconds, no one said anything.
Then, everyone burst into cheers.
Chris wrapped him up in a bear hug and squeezed him tightly. “Looks like you got yourself an alchemy master to learn from. Hawkeye’s a strange one, but I think he has a daughter about your age.”
She put him down. “No funny business with her, by the way. If I find out you fooled around with her, I’ll come out there and castrate you myself. Lord knows Hawkeye probably wouldn’t even notice.”
Slowly, realization dawned on Roy. He had a master. Someone was willing to teach him! He might actually reach his goals yet.
The only person who didn’t seem that happy was Niall.
“Look, I know we had plans but—”
“Oh, I’m not worried about our plans, I’ll survive just fine,” Niall said, still looking very nervous.
“But—”
“What do you think is going to happen when the heads all hear you’re leaving?”
Just like that, the wind was knocked out of Roy’s sails. “Um... Auntie, I think we might have a problem,” he called over the sounds of celebrations.
She sighed. “Alright, you have two months. Let’s figure out how to get you out of Central without having hit men sent after you.”
“I’ll be fine,” he said to Niall.
Niall raised a brow.
“I’ll be fine.”
Somehow, he very much doubted that.