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A Little Light of Love	By : squallstorm Category: Fullmetal Alchemist > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 7987 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Full Metal Alchemist, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 17
- 18
- 19
Disclaimer:
I do NOT own Fullmetal Alchemist or its characters.....I'm just
playing with them.

Author's
note:

Thanks
to ZaKai for finding the time to read through this chapter and
finding all my many, many mistakes. I know you're crazy busy with
school work...I'm sure everyone will understand why I can't update
sooner or more often. Please give some major PROPS to ZaKai! Send
her a PM or thank her via your review to me!

Also,
based on a recent review I've received for FF . net, I just a want to
say that this story is NOT
a true historical accounting, that is accurate down to the very last,
still debated details. It is BASED
on historical facts and people, and most of the historical content is
presented from a character's POV, making it skewed towards that
character's thinking and views.

Please
keep this in mind as you read as well...this is a fictional story and
I've taken creative licenses more than once (I usually let you guys
know when I do this with any major historical content).

With
that in mind...enjoy
the chapter!

Chapter
18

Al
turned back and thrust out his hand at Noa. She threw him a pained
look and reached out the hand not currently wrapped about Isabella's
in a vice-like hold and gripped his hand tight. Re-directing his
attention forward, Al pulled Noa and Isabella with him as he
lengthened his strides to cover more ground. The Seniore huffed
loudly though his blood stained lips as he ran beside Al. He didn't
seem all that concerned that they had an indeterminate number of
strange animals chasing after them.

“About
face, Ed!” shouted Roy from behind them.

Al
grimaced. Did Roy mean to try and fight those things? They looked
incredibly fast and vicious. Who knew how many of them there were.
He had to be out of his mind to want to face them.

“Are
you fucking
crazy!” yelled Ed, his voice laced with near panic.

“Do
it! And draw my gun!” Roy yelled back, his voice hard and
determined. Ed growled in response.

Noa
cried out in fear as the creatures vocalized once more, echoing down
the deserted, crate filled hallways, making Al dare to look over his
shoulder. Ed and Roy were falling behind, as much as Ed was pulling
Roy along, he couldn't do all the work; he was still recovering from
his own injury. Beyond that, Al couldn't see their chasers, and with
their noisy retreat he couldn't hear them either unless they cried
out.

“Turn
r-right!” gasped Noa. Al pushed the slowing Seniore to the
right and pelted after him.

As
he rounded the corner, Al looked back once more. Ed planted his foot
and used his inertia to pull Roy around to face their pursuers; Roy's
gun already in his left hand and leveled at the dark hallway.
Unwilling to put Noa and Isabella at risk, Al tore his eyes away with
a frown and dashed out of sight. Ed and Roy better not get
themselves killed. Stretching his legs, he increased their pace,
pulling Noa and Isabella along behind him. At this point he could
care less about the Seniore. It was time to focus on themselves and
on getting out alive.

Al hadn't been able to
get everyone very far before two men stepped out from between all the
crates and other construction items lining the halls to block their
path. Skidding to a stop twenty feet away, he pulled Noa and
Isabella towards him, throwing a protective arm around Noa's
shoulders. He watched the men warily, his other hand hanging limply
by his side, gripping the gun handle tight. Isabella shifted around
and hid her head in his legs, throwing her small arms around his
thighs.

They were so close. So
close... He could see the main chamber at the end of the long
corridor. Portable flood lights on tall stands had been erected near
the elevator, and he could see people moving within the light. The
Seniore, who had stopped at the same time as Al, smirked widely.
Throwing a triumphant look over his shoulder, he stepped forward.

“About
time, boys. Look what they did to me,” drawled the Seniore,
lifting his head and sniffing.

“Our
apologies—” the man on the right said, lowering his eyes
in apparent shame.

Al frowned. This did
not bode well. He tightened his hold around Noa's small shoulders
drawing her even closer, where she buried her face into his collar
bone and neck, and clutched at his shirt front.

“—Seniore.
It won't—” the man on the left demurred, also lowering
his eyes.

“—Happen
again,” finished the man on the right.

The Seniore stopped in
front of the two pale blond men and smiled. The odds had finally
shifted in his favor. Now he could have the older brother and not
have to tell Thule or the Germans. It was perfect. The very thought
of finally getting his hands on that troublesome man, and bending him
to his will, breaking him, made his heart flutter in excitement.

He could almost see how
his newest, prized toy would look under him; Edward's eyes shining in
the half light, full of fear...fear so strong that the Seniore would
be able to smell it. His hair would be loose over his shoulders,
reflecting the light. At first, he'd bind the hellion to a T-bar,
never allowing him the chance to ease his pain stretched shoulders.

He'd be so easy to fuck
in that position too. Just pull him back and ram into that tight ass
of his. Even imagining the cries and protests, the pleas, would be
as if sweet music to him. Later, as he became more obedient, more
broken, he might let him down; make the blond feed him with his metal
hand. He would beg to feed him, as long as it pleased the Seniore,
his newest pet would do anything.

The twin on the right
pulled out a small set of keys from his pocket and came forward.
Nodding to the Seniore that he should turn around so he could release
the manacles, he began to shift through the keys, searching for the
right one.

“I
want him alive,” the Seniore said, his chains jangling. He
looked down the hallway at the boy holding onto the witch-woman.
“We'll give him to the Germans to play with as they try to open
that gate, while I keep the other one for myself.” The Seniore
rubbed his now freed wrists while leering at Al, making the younger
brother shift anxiously from foot to foot. The blond man who had
released the Seniore pulled out a handkerchief and began to try to
clean up the bloody mess on the Seniore's face.

Al shifted his focus to
the remaining man standing slightly apart from his double and the
Seniore. While his attention had been focused on the Seniore as he
spoke about his future plans, the other man had drawn his gun and
leveled it at them. With a start, Al began to raise his own gun that
had rested in his hand forgotten until now.

A loud crack made Al
flinch and stagger. Noa stumbled out of his arms and shrieked,
dragging the small girl off his legs. The gun fell from his weak
hand to clatter on the floor. In a daze Al looked down at his arm.
The sleeve of his short-sleeve shirt was ripped and blood dribbled
down his arm and off his fingertips to fall into small perfect
circles on the floor. Fingering the charred material in a daze, Al
pulled at the hole to see the wound was just a graze. He couldn't
feel it yet, but when he did he knew it would burn something
terrible.

“I
shouldn't do that—” the man who fired the shot said.

“—If
I were you,” the other finished, coming to stand along side
this double.

Al pressed his hand over
the cut and looked up at the identical looking men, frowning.

- - - -

Ed brought his right
hand up to brace the gun and made it steady. The gun wavered in the
air searching for a target that he couldn't see. Roy heaved beside
him.

“Just
shoot! I don't care where!” commanded Roy breathlessly.

Ed blinked and complied,
squeezing his finger around the trigger until it would go no further.
He flinched as the gun bucked and vibrated with the force of the
discharge. A bullet whizzed out of the barrel quickly vanishing from
sight.

Through the fading
afterimage, Ed saw Roy bring up his hand before him. In the next
instant the whole corridor was lit up as flame spontaneously moved
away from them towards their pursuers. The creatures screamed their
fear, which Ed could still hear even over the roar of the flames.

Ed
looked over at Roy in awe, his jaw falling open in his shock. Roy
was directing
the fire. How was he doing that! He didn't snap, and he wasn't
wearing a flamethrower or anything stupid like that. All the debris
lining the corridor became distorted in the flash of light, making
boxes elongate into bizarre shapes as the shadows moved with the
flame's light.

First
one box, then two caught fire. Before long the whole length of the
hallwayl was burning, and filling up with black acrid smoke that
crawled along the ceiling in both directions. Ed swallowed hard, and
tore his eyes away from the hypnotizing flames to look over at the
man beside him. Roy's hair swirled around his head in a breeze that
only seemed to affect him. How...could...this... This can't be
happening! How was it that this man—that he was like him.
He could even use fire just like him.
How? In the yellow light from the fire, Ed stared uncomprehendingly
at Roy's profile.

Roy
frowned. The creatures had moved since he'd last seen them, and he
had to look through
the flames in order to find them. Not as easy as one might assume.
Their howls of anger and fear did nothing to help him located the
creatures. He'd just have to torch the whole thing and hope he got
them all. He glanced out of the corner of his eyes to see Ed's look
of shock.

“I'm
sorry...” Roy murmured, making Ed's eyes widen in confusion.
“I'm not exactly...normal.” He turned his gaze back down
the corridor, making the flames hotter just in case.

Ed
frowned and looked away. “What are you sorry for? Like I'm
any more
normal then you?” he returned gruffly, holding up his right
arm. Screams of pain and agony met his ears. It sounded like one or
more of those things had been caught in the flame.

“It's
like this with my family. Please don't tell the military,” Roy
begged. He didn't like to humble himself, not like this, and not
with Ed. But if the army were to find out...about this or about his
half-breed status...well, he'd either be a lab rat for the rest of
his days or dishonorably discharged. Neither option was what he
wanted for himself. So, he had to ask for Ed's discretion. It was a
lot to hope for under the circumstances, and they'd only just met a
few hours ago, but already so much had happened between them.

“I
won't,” promised Ed solemnly. Another scream echoed towards
them from one of the creatures overlapping with one from behind,
which Ed recognized as being Noa's voice. Isabella's scream could
also be heard. Ed whirled around looking for his brother. His heart
leapt up into his throat when he was nowhere in sight.

“AL!”
Ed launched himself down the hall. At the T-junction, Ed skidded to
a stop and looked quickly both ways. Down the right hall he saw Al.
His back was to him and he had one of his hands up guarding his face
in preparation to attack. Noa and Isabella were off to the side, the
small girl wrapped up in Noa's arms as they watched, forgotten by
everyone.

Two
identical looking, blond men were advancing on Al menacingly with
wicked looking knives held before them. His brother dropped his one
handed guard and pressed his palm over his arm, where Ed could see
something wet coating his bicep in the dim light from the fire. Ed
shifted his weight from foot to foot weighing his options. If he
just ran towards them, it might provoke those twin guys to lunge at
Al. If he called out—they could lunge again. Even if he
walked forward slowly, they might see or hear him coming. Unsure, Ed
looked over his shoulder, hoping that Roy would be right there. He
did not
want to mess
this up.

Roy turning around,
letting his eyes remain downcast as he wiped his forehead of the
sweat that had beaded there. When he looked up and locked onto Ed's
gaze, he sighed. He was certain that he'd gotten all three of those
things so he had released his control of the fire, but the crates
lining the corridor still burned. He could feel exhaustion pulling
at his mind, making it harder to think quickly and plan.

Controlling
fire was mentally draining in the worst way. It fought and disobeyed
his wishes. It wanted to flare up and burn with abandon, not listen
to someone else. He always had to bully and fight with fire,
especially if he held onto it for longer than just a few moments.
But to make a literal wall of fire like he had just done, that was
almost as bad as his little ball of flame he used to set off the
explosions. There was hardly anything to burn so he had to make fire
from practically nothing and still
bend it to his commands.

And
all this for the man who was looking at him,
pleading with him with his eyes. Ed turned away and looked down the
next hall, tensing his body as if for a fight. Roy blinked once in
an effort to snap his mind out of it's stupor, and slowly approached
the man that had begun taking up more and more space in his mind.
Silently, he slided up along side of Ed and took in the scene before
them.

“Crap,”
sighed Roy under his breath. A pair of tall identical twins were
circling Ed's brother slowly, knives drawn. Every few feet one or
both of the twins would lash out making Al jump away. They were
testing Al, seeing how good he was, trying to find his weaknesses.
The Seniore stood facing them with a triumphant grin on his blood
stained face.

“I
don't know what to do,” said Ed lowly. “I always fuck it
up. I can't get my little brother killed.” Ed turned to Roy,
worry etched in the way his eyebrows came together and in the way his
mouth tensed. “What do I do?”

Roy looked at Ed,
seconds longer then he needed to, studying the way those eyes flashed
even in the dim light. “Can you shoot?” he asked,
nodding down at the gun still in Ed's left hand.

Ed lifted the gun to
look at the flat-metal finish, and chuckled mirthlessly. “No.
I hate the things,” he mumbled. He switched the gun from his
left to his right, and handed the weapon back to Roy, his eyes
dropping to the floor. He wouldn't kill...not if he didn't have too.
They only had knives. Al and him could deal with knives.

Roy took the gun, and
looked at it and then up at Al. With a sigh, he holstered the
weapon. He just didn't trust himself to make the shot with his left
hand. “I'll distract them long enough for you to run down.
How's that?”

Ed nodded eagerly. “Are
you going to do that flame thing?” he asked with excitement.
He really wanted to see how Roy did that. Roy chuckled tiredly and
reached down to his belt, showing Ed the small metal plate with the
flint rock in the middle. Reaching out his hand, Ed reverently
touched the cool stone with his left hand before looking up and
smiling maniacally, letting his hand drop away.

“Ready?”
asked Roy, slightly breathless.

“Yeah.”
Ed broke eye contact and faced towards his brother and his
attackers, his jaw set in determination.

With a flick of the
wrist, Roy lifted up the small spark so that Ed could see. Those
yellow cat-like eyes flickered and glanced from the corner of his
eyes, and a smirk tugged at the corner of Ed's mouth, which for some
reason made Roy very pleased.

“Go,”
whispered Roy. The spark disappeared from his hand, and Ed was
sprinting down the hall. As soon as Ed got ten paces away, Roy had
the spark re-appear in-between the twins and Al where he created a
large wall of fire effectively cutting off the twins' ability to
access their prey.

- - - -

Eberhard looked up at
the ceiling, almost forgetting the limp soldier he was supporting as
grit and dirt littered the floor behind him. The wounded man groaned
and shifted feebly within his hold. Even though he was suppose to
help the twins look for the Seniore he had somehow gotten roped into
helping evacuate the wounded and move some of the heavier equipment.
When he had hesitated and mumbled for too long, the officer who had
found him snapped at him to get to work, and he'd been here ever
since.

The disturbing rumbles
from deep within the base seemed to have died down finally, but the
ceiling was still coming down on top of them. It was very upsetting
to Eberhard to see that this strong rock and cement base could
seemingly be destroyed very easily. It seemed to him to be
invincible, something that no one could destroy, and yet...here it
was falling down around them. Everyone had called him strong. Did
that mean that he could fall like this as well?

Gently placing the
injured man on the elevator directly next to another patient,
Eberhard adjusted the thin, almost non-existent pillow into something
a bit more comfortable and guided the man to lie down before
standing. With a nod to the man beside the elevator switch, Eberhard
stepped off, and watched as the platform shuddered and started its
painful ascent.

- - - -

As soon as the flame
wall vanished, Ed leaped into the twins midst, swinging viciously
with his right back hand at the left cheek of the man on the right.
Al ran towards the one on the left, throwing a front hand jab. Both
twins took identical steps back and smirked before flipping their
grip on the knives in order to slash rather then stab.

Grunting, Ed went after
his opponent again. He grabbed for the knife with his right hand
while lashing out with his left with a shot to the kidneys. His twin
blocked the punch, pushing his arm out of the way and all of a sudden
the knife was slicing towards his eyes. As his reflection came
close, Ed just managed to get his right hand up to deflect the slash.
The twin spun around suddenly, picking up his leg and plowing into
Ed's unsuspecting gut.

With a pained grunt, Ed
stumbled backwards right into his brother's back. He looked over his
shoulder slightly and saw that Al was holding onto his stomach much
like he was. Ed's frown deepened, and then he pushed off of Al at
the same time as his brother, each rushing after their chosen
opponent. Ed let the punches fly, making his twin have to step and
step again to avoid him.

“Stop—”
Ed swung with his right hand. “—Moving--” He
lashed out with his left. “—Around!” he growled.
His opponent spun suddenly on his back foot and lifted his leg high
above his head, bringing it down on Ed's collar bone. If he hadn't
have brought up his left hand at the last minute, Ed was sure he
would have had a concussion right now. As it was now, his right arm
was slow to move from the shock of the blow.

As the leg withdrew, Ed
hopped and spun in the air sending a spinning roundhouse to the head.
Ed grinned evilly as he saw his opponent realize he had nowhere to
go. With a satisfying crack, Ed sent his twin sliding across the
floor.

Behind him, Al cried out
in pain. Ed whirled around to see his brother's opponent squeeze his
wounded upper arm causing blood to ooze over the twin's fingers. Al
scrabbled and clawed at the hand, trying to get it to release him and
then threw several ineffective punches at the arm holding him.

“AL!”
shouted Ed, completely forgetting his opponent in favor of saving his
brother from any further pain. Running across the distance
separating them, Ed braced himself and sprang at Al's aggressor.
Abruptly, Ed was tugged out of his jump and spun around. When he was
released he flew at the wall, his back landing with a dull thud that
sent his teeth knocking together.

Gasping, he slid down
the wall and landed on a few dirty tarps, trying to banish the dizzy
spell that made the room spin. Looking through his hair, he saw Al
finally work his way free before a pair of legs stepped in front of
him ruining his view. He glanced up at his forgotten and ignored
opponent, to see that he was glaring down at him. Quick as silver,
Ed braced himself on one hand and threw his body upwards, striking
out with the heal of his foot at that smug face.

- - - -

“Quickly
my dear,” Asherton said, pausing long enough for his wife to
come along side of him. He placed a hand on the small of her back
and urged her forward. People were scrambling over the rubble
towards the elevator carrying all myriad of things. Not only did
they have to pick their way around the rocks and bits of ceiling,
they had to dodge the soldiers as well.

“I
can't believe how quickly everything's going wrong,” huffed
Lady Rose. “Thomas, what will we do if your purchase goes
sour? We'll have nothing to show for all this.” Lady Rose
carefully watched her feet, making sure she didn't step on anything
thing that might twist her ankle or break her high heels shoes.

“Now's
not the time, dear,” replied Asherton absently, glancing up at
the ceiling he pressed a little harder against his wife's back to
speed up their progress. The sense of impending doom was wrecking
havoc with Asherton's nerves. He had a horrible feeling that none of
them would be getting out of here alive, which is why they were
currently leaving before any other of the Thule society or Schreck's
higher ups. He doubted very much that they would be missed in all
this confusion anyway.

Even when his wife had
protested and said they had to convince Mr. Maxton to come with them,
he had put his foot down and finally told his wife that if she wanted
to stay she could kiss any future boy-toys goodbye, for he would not
stand for it if she chose Mr. Maxton over him.

True, unadulterated
shock at her husband's outburst had stilled any further comments she
may have made in light of the determined gaze Asherton gave her. He
gave a painful tug on her upper arm, dragging her out of the control
room quietly, and down to the main chamber. No one paid them any
mind as they walked towards the main entrance.

Lady
Rose squeaked and clutched at Asherton's jacket as rubble crashed to
the floor two feet away from them. They
hurried to the elevator just as it was being loaded with wounded and
some equipment to send to the surface. Asherton spoke quickly with
an officer who seemed to be in charge and then came back to get his
wife, who had yet to step on the platform. As soon as they were
aboard, the elevator shuddered once and than began making it's slow
painful crawl to the top.

- - - -

Ignored for the moment,
Roy hurried over to Noa and the small girl, though his eyes were
riveted on the fight. Al was fighting like a tiger. He was
everywhere. His strikes were strong and graceful, leaving his
opponent reeling. If he hadn't seen it himself, he would have said
that the younger, baby-faced boy couldn't fight. Clearly he was
wrong.

As Al blocked another
attack, Roy's gaze swept over to Ed. Where Al was like the tiger,
full of power, strength and grace, Ed was like the cobra, memorizing
to watch, and deadly to get too close. His impossible body
contortions and the speed at which he executed them, made it seem
that he was floating. It was so incredibly beautiful that Roy forgot
where he was. He just stopped and stared. It wasn't until the small
girl began pulling on his good arm, making him have to look away and
down, did he finally notice that he was getting a partial hard-on.
Fighting back the inappropriate blush and thoughts, Roy let the girl
pull him back towards Noa.

“Roy,
you must stop this. We can't dally here,” urged Noa,
reclaiming Isabella's hand when she came near. She pointed down the
hall. “They'll come to investigate if this keeps up.”

Roy looked down the
hallway towards the main chamber. So far it appeared that they had
gone unnoticed, but there was no way to know how long that would
last. The black smoke from his fire was drifting along the ceiling
towards the main chamber, but it was dim, so he hoped very much that
it would go unnoticed for as long as possible. “Here,”
snapped Roy, pulling off his military jacket and placing it over
Noa's shoulders.

Noa adjusted the heavy
jacket and thrust her arms into the long sleeves. As she tried to
find the cuffs, her hands brushed against the pockets. On one side
was the soft bulk of Edward's braid, on the other, in the breast
pocket, a book. Wondering what could be important enough for Roy to
bring here, she pulled it out. It was Edward's notebook, with a
rumpled letter shoved in between the pages.

“Damn,
I forgot about those,” cursed Roy, tugging the letter out of
the book. “This is a letter of introduction from Ed's patron.
Should prove my allegiance to America, and erase Al's doubts of me.”
Shaking his head at himself, he handed the letter back. “Give
that to him later, okay?” Noa nodded and tucked the book and
the letter back in to his jacket pocket.

“Okay,
we're going to head down that way.” He pointed over his
shoulder at the main chamber. When he turned around to look at the
fighters, they too were making their way towards the main chamber, Ed
and Al driving the twins back with the Seniore following behind.

“Let's
go,” said Roy, gripping Noa's upper arm.

- - - -

Maxton hurried down the
deserted corridor to his lab. He had to gather up four years worth
of research—by himself—and carry it back to the elevator.
Schreck wouldn't even send a few soldiers with him. 'They couldn't
be spared'...he didn't believe that. It was just Schreck's way of
saying that his 'project' wasn't as important as the bomb research or
the genetic work Doctor Marcoh was doing. His 'project' was, as of
now, deemed a drain on the financial, already unstable, German
government.

As
soon as he had heard that, Maxton had left the emergency meeting. He
didn't even stop when Lady Rose called out to him to come back, nor
listen to whatever it was that Doctor Marcoh yelled at his retreating
back. Something he wouldn't have done normally, but...he was so
close. To shut him down now was ridiculous. The gate could be
opened in just a few hours if he was really pressed. Two days would
be better, but it was
possible to open it sooner.

With renewed anger,
Maxton strode down the hall, glaring through the darkness. When were
they going to put the power back on? This was ridiculous. One could
hardly be expected to work in this gloom and be efficient about it.
Mid-way down the hall the small weak lights, placed every fifty feet,
began to glow faintly. As the bulbs warmed up, their light became
stronger.

Finally, someone had
gotten around to getting the emergency power up and running. That
should make things much easier to pack up and remove his work.
Thinking about all the candles he'd have to light in his lab if they
hadn't come on was enough to make him get a headache.

The cones of weak light
make the dark even more menacing, and when a half heard sound of
something shifting on the concrete reached his ears, his heart leapt
up into his throat. His foot hovered in the air, about to take the
next step towards his lab, but hesitating. The seconds ticked by.
Maxton frowned in concentration, but the sound didn't repeat itself.
Shaking his head at himself and how jumpy he was being, Maxton put
his foot down and continued down the hall. He hadn't gone five steps
before he heard the shifting noise again.

This time, Maxton
whirled around and searched through the light and darkness for the
source. There didn't seem to be anyone there. A cold sweat broke
out over his face and spine. He licked his lips and tilted his head
from side to side trying to catch any movement. There was nothing.

Maxton waited a full
minute this time, he knew because he counted each second, and still
there was nothing. “Gah!” sighed Maxton, throwing his
hand up in disgust with himself. He turned back around and resumed
his destination. The sound of his shoes striking the floor
overpowered his hearing to the point that he could hear nothing else.
Suddenly nervous that whatever had made that sound was sneaking up
on him as he walked loudly down the hall, Maxton came to a stop.

The shifting sound of
sand falling was all he heard this time, and he found the source of
it just a few feet in front of him. The large crack in the wall
seemed to be bleeding sand into a growing pile on the floor. Slowly
the tension in his shoulders eased. He was feeling more and more
disgusted with himself and his fear. How could he have mistaken the
sound of sand for a living thing? What on earth would he have to
fear anyway? He was a pioneer in his field, and had made huge
advances on unraveling the puzzle to cross worlds on his own.

A low growl from in
front of him issued from the darkness, almost below the point of
human hearing. Now that Maxton had heard that, his fear lessened.
It was only one of Marcoh's creatures. Feeling much better now,
Maxton continued down the hall. As he came to his turn, he saw the
beast up on the ceiling looking down at him. From his pocket he
pulled an arm band with the German swastika and held it aloft for the
creature to see.

The thing tilted its
head at him, seeming to consider his proof. When the creature made
no move, Maxton replaced the arm band and turned down the hallway.
As he walked away, he heard the crunch of concrete and looked over
his shoulder to see the beast following him on the ceiling.

“What?”
he asked the thing, irritated. But of course he got no response.
“Go away,” he hissed. Waving at it to encourage the
thing to leave didn't do much other then make Maxton more annoyed at
its unresponsiveness. The thing whuffed at him and skittered across
the ceiling until it was directly above, looking down. Staring into
its half seen eyes, Maxton slowly inched away, trying to put distance
between them.

When the creature made
no further movement, Maxton slowly turn his back on the thing, and
continued down the hallway. He'd have to have a talk with Marcoh
about these things. They weren't following orders very well.

When the creature howled
loud enough to make Maxton squeeze his hands over his ears, panic
made his heart stutter within his chest. Then the creature, so
mangled with sores lining its body that it looked like it shouldn't
be able to move, launched itself at him, slamming into his chest.
Its claws sunk though his expensive Paris made suit and down though
his flesh and organs, coming out on the other side, making him gasp
in dull surprise.

The sound of scrabbling,
and low growls eased away as Maxton stared at the ceiling. His body
was dragged a few inches, but it didn't faze him. The warmth of his
blood pooling under his back soothed his fading mind. It was good to
be warm like this. So warm...

- - - -

Doctor Marcoh carefully
lifted the round sphere from its cradle in the heavily shielded room,
and just as carefully, turned and walked the five steps towards a
large wooden crate full of packing material. The two guards sent to
escort him here watching nervously as he slowly eased the
revolutionary device into the small depression he had molded earlier.

An annoying bead of
sweat rolled down his forehead and hung on his eyebrow, shaking from
side to side as it threatened to fall. Marcoh paused to look at it,
wanting to wipe it, but not willing to remove one of his hands. The
guard on the left gasped, and Marcoh's eyes shifted over to the man
with a warning glare. He watched the man gulp and then still.

Lowering the bomb into
the depression, Marcoh eased his hands away and then stood. He
nodded at the two men standing near, and they began to fill the rest
of the crate with packing material. The two men stepped back as
Marcoh began to push down on the filling making sure it was packed
tight, before he lifted the top of the wooden crate and slid it into
place.

“Right.
Bring the hammer and nails,” said Marcoh, adjusting the lid to
fit snuggly. When neither item appeared, Marcoh looked up annoyed at
the two soldiers. “What is it?”

“Um...well,
should you be hammering around that?”
the first soldier said uncertainly.

“It'll
be fine. Please bring me the hammer and nails. We must seal the
crate before we move it or else risk the chance that the crate could
tip over and dump the bomb onto the ground. Which do you prefer?”

- - - -

Ed tried to get the
upper hand with the tall, pale, blond man he was fighting but it
didn't seem to matter what he did. The guy was like a rock. No
matter what Ed threw at him, he kept coming back for more. It was a
little disheartening, and he was expending energy at a phenomenal
rate.

Taking advantage of Ed's
wondering mind, the man threw a roundhouse punch, catching him on the
side of his face. Ed staggered away, clutching at his jaw.

“You
shouldn't ignore me, it'll hurt my feelings,” drawled the tall
blond, shrugging his shoulders. “That's twice now. Do it a
third time and I won't be held accountable for what happens.”

“I
didn't know you were so sensitive. Fuckin' pansy ass like you, it
wouldn't surprise me at all,” snapped Ed. He slowly
straightened as far as his five foot two inch frame would allow and
looked down his nose at his opponent. Ed watched disinterestedly as
the fucker began to play with the knife, throwing it up into the air,
and switching it from hand to hand. He had to get rid of that knife.

All of a sudden, the man
lunged at him, slashing the blade across his chest at Ed. Startled,
Ed arched his body around the strike and smirked triumphantly at the
other blond when they both saw that Ed was whole. “Hah, you're
too fucking slow,” taunted Ed. The blade came whizzing back at
his face. Ed caught the arm between both of his and snapped it back
at the elbow. With another twist, the blade was stripped and
clattering down onto the floor.

Even though Ed had a
hold on the twin's arm, the man somehow managed to contort enough to
be able to bring up his other hand and latch onto his throat. Ed
released his grip on the arm and both hands flew up to try and work
the hand away from his windpipe. The twin kneed him in the groin,
and as Ed bent double, screwing his face up in pain, the other hand
latched itself together with the first and began squeezing the life
from him.

Grimacing,
Ed pulled at those hands, and when that didn't work, he punched. To
the face, to the body, anywhere he could reach, and still the hold on
him remained unwavering. With a grin, his opponent lifted his whole
body
into the air and launched him across the corridor. For the second
time, Ed's back connected solidly with the wall, making his neck snap
backwards painfully.

Falling to one knee, Ed
panted at the floor. He swallowed around a pained inhalation.
Something didn't feel right. His chest...it was squeezing. That
couldn't be right. Ed looked up and across at his brother. Al was
having the same trouble as he was. It didn't seem like he could make
a dent just like Ed wasn't. What are these guys? How could they be
so strong and—

A
powerful blow to the side of his ribs sent Ed sliding across the
floor, interrupting his train of thought. When he finally stopped,
his cheek was rubbed raw, and his arms and legs were all akimbo.
Stupid...shouldn't have taken his eyes of his opponent. Looking
through the mess of hair over his face, Ed saw his guy pick up the
knife and walk leisurely towards him. Working his arms under him, Ed
heaved himself slowly up onto all fours. He couldn't take much more
of this. His reaction time was way
off and it was only getting worse with each passing second. It was
like he couldn't read his opponent at all. He knew he could move
faster then this.

“Get
up,” Ed hissed at himself under his breath. “Get up.
Fuck!”
yelled Ed, launching to his feet just as the twin stuck him in the
head with his fist closed around the hilt of the knife, adding weight
to the blow. Falling backwards to the ground, Ed landed flat on his
back, cracking his head on the floor. What was wrong with him, he'd
tackled tougher fighters then this. He stared up at the dark ceiling
in a daze. It looked like waves were rolling along, and Ed blinked
at them in confusion until he remembered that Roy had made a fire and
it was just the smoke travelling along the ceiling.

“I
told you, I wanted this one for me. Don't break him,” the
Seniore said, entering Ed's line of sight.

It was really tempting
to just close his eyes and not bother with whatever was going to
happen next. His face was burning from his fall, it ached from all
the hits he'd sustained, and something was wrong with his chest
again. If only he could find the energy to continue to fight, but
his body wouldn't move.

- - - -

Ushering the woman and
child past the fighters, Roy came to a stop at the mouth of the main
chamber, and crouched down in order to see what was happening. It
looked to Roy as if the whole base was scrambling to make its escape
from the ruin around them.

A loud crack echoed
around the chamber, making Roy look up in alarm as a chunk of ceiling
worked its way free and fell towards the ground. Startled shouts and
calls for people to move out of the way didn't stop the ones directly
under the falling bolder to stop and watch their doom approach. He
swallowed over a throat that had suddenly become tight as one man
became a crushed mess, and another started screaming loudly. His
legs were no longer there. The unfortunate man reached out towards
some stunned bystanders for help. Only one soldier came to his aid,
kneeling down to share a few words before he drew his gun and shot
the man in the head, ending his whimpers and cries. The resulting
chaos from the deaths of the soldiers seemed too good to give up,
though.

“Noa...how
come?” the small girl asked. Roy glanced back to see Isabella
looking at the grisly scene.

“Don't
look, honey,” answered Noa quietly, placing her palm over the
girl's eyes and turning her head towards her breast.

Reaching back, Roy took
hold of Noa's arm and dragged her out from behind the crate she was
crouched behind. She stumbled over her feet before she could follow
Roy's lead. Throwing one last look over his shoulder, Roy checked to
see how Ed was fairing with his fight, and maybe to tell him to hurry
up. Instead he skidded to a stop as he watched Ed slam into the wall
and then get punched hard enough to make him slide a few feet across
the ground.

“Eddie!”
Isabella cried, tears in her eyes. The small girl broke out of Noa's
hold and ran towards the brothers.

“Isabella!”
yelled Noa, trying to tug her arm out of Roy's grip, but he squeezed
her wrist hard. Her hand flew to her mouth in fear for the child's
safety.

Roy was sorely tempted
to call out as well, but attention was already being diverted to
them. A quick scan of the chamber showed that two men standing
nearby had turned and were staring at them curiously. With an
exasperated sigh, Roy pulled Noa forward to speak with the two men.
The woman whimpered and pulled ineffectually at his hold on her.

Uncertainly, the two men
looked between him and Noa, seeing the jacket she was wearing and
assuming, correctly, that it must belong to Roy. Despite his
disheveled state, the men stood a little taller under his even glare.

“Sir?”
the man on right asked in German. “Is everything alright?”
The man looked Roy up and down taking in his ripped, sleeveless
shirt, bullet wound, and soot covered clothing, before glancing over
to do the same with Noa. The over-large jacket she was wearing, to
her tangled hair and the dark circles under her eyes.

“I
ran into a bit of trouble,” Roy said sardonically, the two men
smiled uncertainly at Roy, not quite buying it as they continued to
look him over. “Where's the lift?” he asked, nodding
beyond the two towards the area where the elevator should be.

“Ah,
did you want a medic to look at that?” asked the second man,
pointing to his right shoulder.

“It's
fine.” Roy looked beyond the two men to see what sort of
attention they were getting, and so far no one had the time to wonder
what was happening over here. “It's fine.”

- - - -

Eberhard pushed the
large wooden crate, imprinted with the Nazi party logo, towards the
main chamber. Two soldiers had found him lugging boxes full of
papers and recruited him for this job. They seemed overly happy that
Eberhard had agreed to push the crate that now had his three boxes of
paper on top of it. It didn't bother him any. It had wheels and the
only thing he had to be careful of was falling debris from the
ceiling.

Pausing in the entrance
way to the main chamber, Eberhard once again took in the continuing
destruction. More people were moving items and equipment towards the
front of the room, waiting for the elevator to come back down so they
could move more things to the surface.

Taking a cautionary
glance up at the ceiling, Eberhard set off, pushing the cart before
him. The grit and rubble knocked the wheels and Eberhard had to
fight now, to keep the crate going in a straight line and not veer
off into a totally unwanted direction.

It wasn't until he had
come half way into the chamber that he saw that someone had been
crushed by the collapse of the roof. With a gasp, Eberhard came to a
stop beside the group of people surrounding the mess. As the people
moved around, he could just make out the puddle of blood—a lot
less then he'd imagine there would be, considering. Slowly, he began
to push the cart forward, his eyes never leaving the gruesome sight.

Things seemed to be
actually settling down now. It was just the ordered frenzy of people
carrying things to the elevator and back to get a new load. Eberhard
pulled his eyes back to the front, urging the cart to a slightly
faster pace. When he came to the end of the room, he pushed the cart
into the line of goods waiting by the edge of the wall and turned to
go back for more stuff. When he turned, the corridor to the left
caught his attention and he wondered over to investigate.

- - - -

“Eddie!”

At Izzy's cry, Ed
somehow found the energy to prop himself up on one elbow to watch the
small girl run out of Noa's grip towards him. The Seniore chuckled
beside him, making Ed crane his neck at the man with a frown.

“Boys!”
yelled the Seniore.

The twin standing off to
the side beside Ed looked over at the Seniore, while the other
continued to push the tall sandy haired youth, throwing vicious kicks
and lethal punches at Al's head. At the Seniore nod, the man turned
and noticed the small girl coming towards them. Ed sat up a little
straighter as he saw that Izzy would have to run past the twins in
order to get to him.

“NO!
Izzy, stay back, dummy!” yelled Ed, struggling to find the
will to make his body move. His other hand wrapped around his
constructing chest, his fear making his heart beat fast. As the
small girl ran head long down the hall, Ed knew he had to do
something. Fast.

Rolling into the
Seniore's shins, Ed knocked him backwards onto the ground.
Scrambling over the man's body, Ed made his way up to the Seniore's
face and punched him as hard as he could on the point of his chin,
leaving the man dazed. Ed had to take a moment to dig deep and find
the energy to push off the floor and stand, even though he was
hunched over. His chest was burning horribly, but that didn't
matter. Izzy needed him to move.

Quickly picking up
speed, Ed ran past his brother and after the twin pelting towards
Izzy. The small girl stopped when she saw the strange man coming
towards her. Willing his body to not fail, Ed put on a burst of
speed and as he came near, he slid along the floor taking out the
twin's feet as he ran forward. It worked...but too well. The twin
lost his balance and toppled back onto the floor, landing heavily on
top of Ed.

Groaning at the extra
weight on his chest, Ed pushed the man's shoulder. In the next
instant, the twin was straddling his stomach and raining down blows
to his head. The only thing he could do was cover his face and try
to roll with the strikes.

The
Seniore pushed on the floor and sat up, looking around while testing
the inside of his mouth, finding the taste of blood was strong and
his tongue tender. That little brat
had made him bite his tongue. He saw that his newest toy was already
receiving his punishment for striking him from one of the boys. Then
he saw the girl, and a smile spread across his battered, and blood
stained face. It was so perfect.
He was truly blessed.

He was able to approach
the girl without her noticing. She had small tears in the corner of
her eyes as she watched his toy continue to be beaten. For now he'd
allow it. He had given him so much trouble that it was time to start
his training. This will be a good first lesson. Grabbing the girl
under her arms, he swung her up making her squeal in surprise.
Holding the small thrashing body tightly to his chest, he smiled in
anticipation and looked over at his toy.

Ed, predictably, reacted
to the threat the Seniore posed Izzy. With a burst of strength, Ed
threw the man straddling him off him with a violent lift of his hips.
Rolling to his feet he glared at the Seniore as he stroked along
Izzy's throat. Growling low in the back of his throat, Ed narrowed
his eyes at the man. It didn't look like he had a weapon on him. Al
should have taken care of that from before, but what if...one of
those freak twins gave him something when he didn't notice.

“Stop!
Stop! Oaf!” grunted Al as he was unceremoniously pushed to
the floor at Ed's feet. Al's opponent towered over both of them,
standing guard. Ed looked up from his prone brother and glared at
the Seniore.

“Such
fire, even though you've got nothing left. Lovely. Truly,”
said the Seniore, his voice dropping to a more intimate level, his
eyes roving up and down Ed's battered, hunched body. He tightened
his arms around the squirming child making her cry out.

Al rolled over and
pulled his feet under him to stand beside Ed and looked over at poor
Isabella, used as a pawn against them again. Why hadn't he insisted
that the child not come with them? Ed was right. It was too
dangerous for her here with them. His brother had only given in
because of him. If he hadn't have pushed... He was at a complete
loss as to what to do now.

Glancing
side long at his brother, Al saw how bad off he was. The side of his
face was rubbed raw and oozing little trails of blood and it looked
like he'd taken a few heavy hits to the face. Covering his gun
wounded arm with his hand, Al looked back at the still struggling
girl and felt all hope fade.

--To be continued--
- 17
- 18
- 19
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A Little Light of Love