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A Little Light of Love	By : squallstorm Category: Fullmetal Alchemist > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 7988 -:- 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
- 18
- 19
- 20
Disclaimer:
I do NOT own Fullmetal Alchemist or its characters.....I'm just
playing with them.

Author's
note:

Thanks
to ZaKai for reading through this chapter and finding all my many,
many mistakes.

(1)
POW – prisoners of war

(2)
M.A.S.H – mobile army surgical hospital

Chapter
19

Eberhard
stared hard into the half light down the hallway trying to make out
who and what was down there. He could hear faint murmurs of people
talking and could sort of make out three, maybe four, people standing
around together, but, well...it didn't make sense. Everyone was
leaving. Why would they just be standing around like that?

With
a shrug of his shoulders, he was about to turn away when he heard a
small girl's voice sob into the darkness. The giant froze. There
were no children in the base but for one that he could think of. The
charm on his wrist swung back and forth making him remember how he
promised to be her new friend. But...if that was the small girl from
the cell...then who was with her that was making her cry?

With
a turn of his head, Eberhard looked hard at the people. He twirled
the pendant between his thumb and index finger, thinking. Without
realizing it, he began to inch his way forward; crouching and
crawling closer.

“—So
pathetic.” Eberhard knew that voice. “Just having this
girl bleeds all your fighting spirit. But that's okay, I like you
docile,” the Seniore said, his voice dropping to pure velvet as
he eyed one of the men standing before him. The man the Seniore was
eying; he knew that guy. He was the one from the train, and again in
Cairo. The one the Seniore wanted him to find. The other taller man
beside the object of the Seniore's interest flinched and took a
half-step forward.

“Don't
talk about him like that,” growled the taller man. The twins
moved a little bit closer; one of them placing a restraining hand on
the taller man's shoulder. “Ed, you aren't thinking what I
think you're thinking...are you?” the taller man asked in a
loud whisper, turning to look down at the other man. Eberhard
watched from his hiding place behind a wooden crate as the man in
question just hunched his shoulders.

“Ed!”
said the other man, he sounded very mad. That man turned and grabbed
onto the one called Ed's arm.

“Al...”
the smaller one said painfully. Eberhard waited for the smaller one
to continue, but nothing else came.

“Your
knife,” said the Seniore, holding out his free hand to one of
the twins.

“No!”
The one known as Al lunged at the twin that was handing over the
knife, and a small tug of war broke out. Ed was scooped up into a
headlock by the other twin when he tried to help and seemed to be
getting choked. That twin did hand over his knife to the Seniore and
he placed the blade along the girl's throat making her cry harder.
Both of the beaten men stopped their struggles at the sound of her
wailing.

It
was then that Eberhard came to a life changing decision. He knew the
Seniore wouldn't want to have a little girl around. He only took in
boys or men, so he was most likely about to kill her. He couldn't
let that happen. All his worry about what to do and how to leave the
Seniore was resolved in that moment of clarity. He
couldn't—wouldn't—let his friend be killed. Bellowing
his rage at them, Eberhard jumped up and rushed at the Seniore, who
froze, his eyes wide, looking at Eberhard.

What
a sight that must have been to have over three hundred and fifty
pounds of solid muscle come charging at you. The twins had their
hands full and could do nothing to help, and they looked on in
wonder. Eberhard reached out and caught the Seniore's wrist in his
meaty hand, pulling the knife away from the child's throat. With the
other hand, he plucked her out of the Seniore's grip and hoisted her
up into his arms.

With
small arms wrapped around his neck, he pulled on the wrist in his
hand and snapped out a backhanded strike to the Seniore's face,
sending him sprawling across the floor. Pivoting on the ball of his
foot, Eberhard pelted down the hall towards the main chamber.

Now
he'd done it. He was in so much trouble now. He'd struck the only
person that cared about him enough to take him off the streets, and
feed and clothe him. Oh, he was in so much trouble!

A
slightly wet smack on the side of his cheek made him forget for a
moment his impending doom. Eberhard slowed and twisted his neck to
look at the bundle riding high in his arms. Rubbing a hand across
her wet cheeks and sniffling hard, the girl gave him a weak smile
before lunging forward to hug his neck.

“Thank
you. Thank you, I was so scared,” the girl said into his neck.

“You're
welcome,” said Eberhard softly in Italian. He crossed into the
main chamber and looked around before deciding that they should maybe
go hide in his room for a while, just in case the Seniore would be
looking for them—or him... He began to trot towards the back
of the chamber.

“My
name's Isabella,” said the girl, leaning back and wiping her
hand under her nose.

“Eberhard,”
said the giant, smiling at her.

- - - -

Al saw the large man
pluck Isabella out of the Seniore's arms and run off, and with it, he
felt hope again. On the heels of that hope, he got angry. Once
again Ed had planned to sacrifice himself to protect his loved ones.
With a surge of strength, Al wrenched his hands out of the twin's
grip and began to punch him anew.

Now, with his hope
renewed, he felt stronger than before. Al aimed his blows on top of
each other, wanting to deal the most damage to only a few areas. All
his efforts before this had come to naught. For whatever reason,
these men were really hard to bring down. The few glimpses of Ed's
fight had shown him that, and it seemed impossible that these men
could take all this punishment, and still be unaffected by it.

He put all his power and
skill into his strikes and finally it was starting to look like it
was catching up to his opponent. His twin faltered leaving Al the
chance to find openings and exploit them. Where before he had been
taunted about the strength of his punch, now the twin had no
condescending words to share. He just looked at Al with a glazed
expression and swayed on his feet. He was already unconscious, Al
noted. He just didn't know it yet. He aimed a blow at the twin's
solar plexus, putting all his weight into the blow.

He
watched as the twin's eyes go wide as his breath expelled from his
body in a loud whoosh. The man faltered and stumbled backwards, his
ankle rolling. He fell to the floor and knocked his head against the
concrete and remained unmoving. Al
immediately turned towards Ed's opponent and joined in this brother's
attempt to wrestle and pry Ed away from the choke hold he was in.

Ed started hitting the
man's legs with his auto-mail, attacking the sides of the knees, he
even twisted as much as he could to try and punch the man's nuts. Al
pressed his advantage above. The twins' hands were full of a angry,
feisty blond, and he couldn't defend against anything Al was throwing
at his face and body. There was only one of them left now, and
although his knuckles and hands were feeling decidedly tender and
bruised, it didn't stop him from delivering some pretty vicious blows
to the remaining twin's face.

Suddenly, for all their
combined effort to take down these twins, this one, without any
warning, just fell over to the ground and didn't move. Ed who was
still crouched over from the head lock, and Al, who was mid-punch,
blinked. Without missing another beat, Al changed his target and
punched Ed in the face.

“Let's
go,” Al gruffly said, pulling on Ed's arm to make him stand
upright.

“Fuck,”
cursed Ed, rubbing his face but allowing Al to pull him along. “I
love you too, asshole.
And where do you get off just hitting me like that? Was that really
necessary?”

“I'm
so mad
at you right now. I don't believe that you were going to do that
again!” He tugged his brother forward, increasing his pace.

“What
fucking choice was there?” yelled Ed at Al's back, and panted
hard. “I'm not going to let Izzy be used like that—”

“I
told
you
to stop that!” interrupted Al, his own voice rising in volume.

“You
what? Stop what? You never said anything,” huffed Ed, and
pulled at Al's hold on his wrist so he could slow down. He clutched
at his chest with his free arm. Al caught the movement from the
corner of his eye, and adjusted his pace so Ed could keep up. They
were almost to the main chamber now, and he couldn't see Noa or Roy
anywhere yet, let alone that huge man and Isabella.

“What's
wrong? Did you hurt yourself again?” asked Al in a slightly
softer voice, looking side long at his brother while he panted at the
floor. His lecture could wait until they were out of here, until
they were safe, but his anger was rolling just under his skin.

“I
don't know...it's squeezing,” gasped Ed, his shoulders curling
into his body. He put his hands on his knees and squatted towards
the floor.

Al slowed to a stop at
the edge of the main hall and looked around. There was so much
activity going on that he was sure they wouldn't be paid any
attention, but...where was everyone?

- - - -

Roy broke off what he
was about to say to the soldiers in front of him as he heard the whir
of the elevator's descent. The two men turned to look and as soon as
it passed the ceiling and into the main chamber, several loud thunks
could be heard, and then the hiss of gas.

Gas grenades.

Their acrid smoke
quickly began to fill the chamber, slowly expanding outwards. Then
more thunks and now explosions, and by the sound of it, they were
anti-tank grenades this time; a bit excessive in Roy's mind. Pulling
Noa's head down towards the ground, he covered her with his body as
the concussions rocked the floor under them.

As particles of grit and
other matter from the ceiling rained down on them, Roy could only
suppose that it was the Americans leading this assault. Shots and
cracks of gunfire began to whiz over their heads, and Roy dimly noted
the two soldiers moving away from them.

The Germans were
woefully unprepared for the attack. Most of them had discarded their
rifles in order to move more freely to pack everything up, and they
now scrambled to reclaim them through the smoke. Roy lifted his head
a fraction and looked over at the elevator, hoping to see someone he
knew. It would be really shitty to walk up to the American army and
try to convince them he was one of them and get shot in the process.

He saw Colonel Tompkins
standing boldly in the middle of the elevator, directing the men's
movements, yelling himself horse. Well, that solved that. With a
shake of Noa's shoulders he yelled in her ear and told explained what
they were about to do.

- - - -

When the gas grenades
started shooting out from the descending elevator, Ed and Al moved to
the other side of the hallway, and crouched down, hoping it would
offer more cover.

“Al,
look! The man with Izzy,” shouted Ed over the shouts and
hissing of releasing gas.

Al followed down Ed's
outstretched arm and saw the giant running with the small girl high
in his arms. “Isabella!” cried Al, straining his voice
to be heard now over the explosive grenades and gunfire. Standing
now, Al cupped his hands around his mouth. “Isabella!”

They could just make out
Isabella gesturing franticly and the giant stopped and turned. The
small girl waved at them happily, making Al sigh. Shrapnel exploded
only a few feet away from the man and Isabella, making the giant turn
to shield the girl. Ed, however, had his eyes on the growing battle.

The Germans were falling
at an alarming rate. It made Ed sick to watch, but he couldn't he
turn away. Through the thinning cloud, he watched one man get his
face ripped in two, and turn to look his way before collapsing dead.
A shot whizzed by, hitting the wall across from them. He ducked his
head, Al doing the same, and then he looked out across the chamber
again.

His hands were over his
ears as the grenades popped and exploded around the large room,
echoing horribly. Staccato gunfire popped, the red hot metal could
be seen in the darkness as they whizzed towards the Germans with only
a few answering volleys. He watched as one grenade was launched up
rather then across the room, where it exploded just under the
ceiling, but the concussion was enough to bring a large chunk that
had to weigh a couple of tons down to the fighting below.

He watched, his eyes
flicking down to where the large boulder would impact, and his breath
caught in his throat.

“Isabella!”
called Al, his hands still cupped over his mouth, unaware of what was
happening elsewhere in the room. The large man looked around, rather
stupidly in Al's opinion and then started to jog towards them. He
wasn't even weaving towards them. Al became worried that a stray
bullet could hit them, and his heart thudded in his chest.

“Too
late,” whispered Ed, standing beside Al now, and gripping his
short sleeve. He knew there was nothing they could do. Even if they
saw the stone falling, they didn't have time to get out of the way.
The tone of Ed's voice, so full of pain and grief, it made Al's eyes
widen as he saw what was coming.

The boulder crashed into
the ground with a shudder that rippled through the floor, blocking
Isabella and the large man from view.

Crushed...

“NOOO!”
screeched Al, and pushed Ed off his shirt. His chest heaved.
They...weren't... It was a lie. A strangled sob came from beside
him, and Ed sunk back to the floor, hanging his head. No. They were
just behind the rock. He would show Ed that he was wrong, and he
pelted out into the fray to prove it.

Ed tried really hard to
not feel anything as he sat on the floor alone. He willed his mind
to block out what he'd just witnessed and please would his mind go
blank? To distract himself he began to notice the texture of the
concrete beneath his legs. He ran his left hand over the slightly
bumpy texture, again and again. He didn't even react when a stray
bullet gouged the stone above his head, and small debris tumbled over
his head and shoulders. He hardly even felt the throbbing of his
chest through his numbness.

When he did look up, he
slowly looked around the chamber before he looked at the elevator and
saw Roy pushing Noa towards an American soldier and then turning to
look directly at him. With a frown, Roy turned and gestured at the
soldier before spinning around and jogging over to him in a crouch.

“Ed,
com'on, we got to hurry. Where's Al and the kid?” shouted Roy
as he neared and then slid to his knees in front of him, grabbing his
arm and pulling.

“She's
gone...she's gone,” he said, the horror—the guilt
catching up with him. Ed shook his head, and stared past Roy. “Oh,
it's my fault. I did it again,” moaned Ed. His hand came up
and covered his face, and another sob choked its way free. She
was...just... One minute she was there...and then... Oh, how could
this be happening! She was just a little kid, she had so much more
to live for, and now she was dead. He was supposed to take her to
America so she could be with her parents. He shook his head from
side to side, and pressed his fingertips into his forehead.

Roy quickly scanned the
hallway and then the chamber for the missing brother and girl. Ed
began to mumble beside him, shaking his head and losing it. He'd
seen it countless times before, when stress just got to be too much
for a soldier to handle. Sometimes they just walked away, others
started killing everything in sight, but the worst, in Roy's mind,
were what Ed was about to do if he didn't stop it now. Not liking
himself at all in that moment, Roy pulled Ed's his hand away and then
slapped Ed hard across the cheek, startling him.

Ed
looked up at him with the beginnings of tears in his eyes, pleading
with him...for something. “Not now, Ed,” said Roy as low
as he could over the noise behind him. “I need
you to hold it together.” Roy pulled Ed roughly to his feet
and began to pull him towards the elevator.

“Right.
You're right, not now. But later...yeah,” mumbled Ed, looking
at his feet. Roy looked back over his shoulder with a worried
expression on his face. It looked like Ed was cracking, and it made
his heart go out to him. But there really wasn't the time for it
now, though. He placed his hand over Ed's head and forced him into a
crouch as they ran at the elevator. He remembered seeing his uncle
look like this after he'd drink too much on Sundays. He hoped
something like that didn't happen to Ed.

Roy pushed Ed to his
knees beside Noa as soon as they stepped onto the elevator, and ran
over to the colonel. “I got one more asset out there, a boy of
about seventeen,” shouted Roy at the colonel's head, and looked
over his shoulder at Ed staring blankly off at the far chamber wall.

“When
we're top side, I want to know just why it is that it took you so
long to get back to the fucking front door!” snapped the
colonel, only slightly serious as a crooked grin was tugging at the
side of his mouth.

“Yessir,”
came Roy's crisp reply.

“We're
going up to bring down more soldiers and take up the wounded. Make
sure you get looked after, captain,” the colonel said without
removing his eyes from the unfolding battle.

“Roy!”
shouted Ed, coming to life to point out into the chamber. “There's
Al!” Roy turned to look, and saw Al just standing around a
large piece of the roof. He was making himself a fine target.

“Colonel,
there's the last asset,” shouted Roy, indicating to the colonel
where Al was standing. With a nod he sent out three of the soldiers
that remained behind to defend the elevator to fetch the boy. He
felt Ed come to stand at his shoulder, and he spared him a quick
glance.

“Alright,
we're going up!” the colonel shouted to the operator.

Ed fidgeted beside Roy,
anxious for Al to be with him and out of harms way. “Wait for
my brother!” he shouted.

“He'll
be on the next one,” shouted the colonel in return, making Ed
frown.

The platform shuddered
under their feet. “Wait! Please, wait!” Ed pleaded with
the colonel, and then looked back at his brother. The soldiers sent
to fetch him weren't even halfway yet. “Roy!” Ed
gripped his bare arm with both of his hands. “Make them wait,
please!”

His
eyes begged Roy to do something. “I
can't,” said Roy with a sad shake of his head. He didn't have
the authority to do anything to help.

“Fine!
Then I'm not going on this elevator, I'll take the next one!”
shouted Ed stubbornly. He dropped his hold on Roy's arm and started
to stride to the edge of the already rising platform. But then Roy
was there, wrapping his good arm around his chest and pulling him
away. “Let go! Piss off, Roy, I have to get my brother!”
Ed gripped Roy's wrist and yanked it.

“NO!”
yelled Roy, resisting Ed's attempts to dislodge him.

“You!
You're such an asshole no matter what world, you fuckin' know that?”
screeched Ed, and looked at his brother as he turned towards the
approaching soldiers. It was hard to tell from this distance, but Ed
could swear that Al had tears rolling down his face, and he kicked at
Roy's leg. As Al faced his rescuers, he suddenly staggered, and Ed
ceased his struggles.

He stopped breathing.

He
stared unbelieving as a large red spot bloomed on the side of Al's
chest and then his little brother fell face first. Ed looked down
from the rising platform in horror. First Izzy, now Al... Not Al!
Ed drew a shuddering breath. NOT AL! Al can't
die! He CAN'T!

“NOOOO!”
yelled Ed. He took one more precious moment to watch and see if Al
would move. When he continued to lay there unmoving, Ed knew he had
to get there. He had to be with Al! Al would NOT die!

If Roy thought Ed was
fighting his grip before, now he was positively thrashing in his
attempt to jump the thirty feet or so to the ground below. In this
fight, Ed would eventually win. It was his two hands to his one.
Growling, Roy planted his feet and hefted the small, but heavy, man
up off his feet, and brought them both to fall to the side. Using
his body, Roy pinned Ed face first.

“Stop!
I won't let you kill yourself,” declared Roy, right into Ed's
ear. Roy had his nose buried in the wild blond hair, it tickled his
mouth and nose.

Ed
shifted and tried to work his hands out from under his chest,
stubbornly continuing to fight. Roy countered by pressing the length
of his longer body more firmly against him, even wrapping his leg
over and then under Ed's own. “He was shot! He's my brother
and I won't lose him again!” hissed Ed, feeling his face grow
warm, but it was from anger...at least that's what he told himself.
He bucked his body, trying to shake Roy off of him. This was not the
time to be noticing stupid stuff like the fact that Roy was lying on
his back. Al was wounded! He was shot!

“He'll
be on the next one, just wait. Killing yourself will achieve
nothing!” He hadn't seen that Al had been shot. So that was
why the blond had suddenly gone wild like that. He could already
guess that Ed and his brother were close from seeing how they had
interacted with each other. Ed bucked under him again, pressing his
bum into his stomach, but Roy just squeezed tighter with his legs and
arm. This
must be killing him,
Roy thought.

“I
don't want to lose him...” Ed said, softer this time, going
limp beneath Roy, and ceasing his struggles. He just lay there under
Roy's weight and tried not to cry. But it was close, oh, so close.
His throat burned
with it. He could feel it welling up in him, but he refused to give
into that, not now. Not yet. Al wasn't dead!

“If
I get off you, are you going to be good?” asked Roy, feeling
the closeness acutely. Ed nodded his head, giving Roy the mute
promise he desired. Slowly, Roy untangled his legs, and then his
arm, waiting to see if Ed would try and pull a fast one on him. He
watched warily as he sat down beside the blond. Ed continued to lie
on the ground, his face hidden amongst the wheat-gold hair.

Roy then turned his
attention to the others on the elevator and found Noa sitting where
he'd put her earlier, watching them closely. He couldn't last under
her knowing gaze and dropped his eyes back to the platform in front
of his feet before looking up to see how much further they had to go.
The surface was close now, then the elevator could go back down
and...hopefully, for Ed's sake, Al was still alive. Rubbing his
wounded arm, trying to sooth the throbbing, Roy stood and wandered
over to the colonel.

- - - -

Schreck stood aghast at
the scene before him. Americans! Where the hell did they come from?
They were swarming around the place like flies on a dead dog. Those
grenades they were throwing around seemed to be weakening the
structural integrity even further. The haze of smoke obscured what
was actually going on, and Schreck could only make out flashes of
activity.

If they'd had any
inclination that they were going to attack, they would have been able
to defend themselves, most likely indefinitely. As it was now, they
were scrambling to put together an effective defense and counter
attack. His commands were falling on deaf ears, with the bulk of his
men scattered about the base in an attempt to pull all their various
research projects and data together, he had no men to fend off this
attack. With no major power source, he couldn't even use the P.A.
system to issue a general alert. All he had was the barest minimum
of power that was even good enough to light the control room.

Rubbing
his index finger along his top lip, Schreck considered his next move.
There was little chance now that he could salvage this base, but
could he save any of it? What would the Führer
want more...the Spanish flu research and those creatures of Marcoh's?
The bomb research? Or maybe Maxton's work on alchemy and the other
world? Which one would be the best to save...

- - - -

Roy
stood over Ed's hunched over body and sighed. He had his head
pillowed on top of his arms, and them on top of his knees, looking
very sullen and depressed. Noa continued to watch from her position,
not once coming closer, which struck Roy as odd. Now though, she was
standing, waiting for them to get off the platform and walk out into
the bright sunlight. Looking down at the top of Ed's head again, Roy
reached
down, gripped his upper arm, and tugged, telling him without words to
get to his feet.

When he got no response,
he reached down again and was about to lift him upright when Ed
slowly pulled his head away from his arms and looked up into Roy's
face. Roy studied Ed's blank face. His eyes had gone cold and dead.
Even the color of Ed's eyes seemed to be dull and flat. Roy sighed.

With a slight tilt of
his head, he motioned to Ed that they should leave. Tiredly, Ed
looked out the sliding garage-type door at the activity there, and
then stood. Roy walked by and motioned to Noa that she should follow
as well.

To be in the air again,
even if it was hot and blistering, was sublime. Roy took a deep
breath as the wind blew across the compound, savoring the smell. He
didn't think anything smelt as good as the desert air did. It
brought to mind his days with his grandfather. He decided then, that
when this was all over, he was going to go home, and to hell with
what his mother thought. He might even leave the military, so he
could truly be himself, with no more lies.

The compound area was
transformed, Roy noted, with all the American soldiers swarming
inside the chain link fence. Off to the right, it looked like they
had set up a POW (1) holding area, where men who weren't seriously
wounded were being placed.

Beyond that, towards the
front gate, there were about six transport trucks lined up, their
grills pointed at the desert. A supply line had been formed behind
each truck as soldiers unloaded the beds, hand over hand to stack the
crates along the wall of one of the buildings. The command tents
were placed on the far left and beside it the M.A.S.H (2) tent.
Well, the colonel did tell him to get cleaned up, so he led Ed and
Noa in that direction.

Looking over his
shoulder, Roy sighed again when he saw Ed's slumped over shoulders
and heavy head. He'd convince Ed to come with him when he went back
to America. He knew now that his grandfather was talking about this
man when he was told of his dream. The hills would do much to help
him heal and be at peace.

He
stopped to wait for the blond to come along side him, and placed his
hand on the back of Ed's neck. He
must be going crazy with worry for Al,
he thought. Pulling him along, Roy rubbed small circles through his
hair, and then pulled him in for a one-armed hug. He didn't even bat
an eye that the other soldiers would see this display of affection,
even if he may have a slightly amoral intent behind it.

When one is surrounded
by men, comfort comes where it comes. There is no stigma on that.
It was being intimate with a man that was a sin. But the line
between comfort and sin was quickly thinning for Roy. Now it didn't
seem like it was that much of a taboo. If he really was going to go
home, his real home, this would be accepted by the other members of
the community. He was willing to embrace that part of himself now...
because he didn't remember ever feeling this way about any of the
women he dated.

“Ed...”
whispered Roy. He tightened his arm around Ed's shoulders, pulling
him even closer to his body.

Ed
made a plaintive sound in the back of his throat and bunched up his
fist in the remains of Roy's shirt, burying his face in the other
man's chest, then abruptly pushed him away. “No,”
grunted Ed, hiding his face from view. He
was barely hanging onto his ragged emotions as it was; for Roy to be
kind and sympathetic, it would just push him over the edge.

“Alright,”
Roy said kindly, understanding of Ed's turbulent emotions. He
entered the shade the tent cast over the ground, and stopped outside
the M.A.S.H tent's entrance, making Ed and Noa stop as well. “I
want you two to stay out here while I get cleaned up, okay?”

“Of
course, captain. We'll be waiting on your return,” said Noa,
speaking for the first time since she had been separated from the
child. Her eyes dropped to the ground and she clasped her hands in
front of her body. She stood beside Ed only a few inches apart.

“Right,”
said Roy, frowning in thought. Did this mean that whatever she did
to Ed was gone now? “Just wait off to the side, so you don't
get in the way.” Roy motioned to the left side of the tent's
entrance. “I'll be as quick as I can.”

Noa looked up at the
captain entered the dark green, heavy canvas tent, and then tilted
her head to look at Edward, who was still hiding in his hair. She
didn't have to touch him to know something terrible happened, and her
heart gave a lurch, making her stomach answer with a sick roll.
Alphonse and Isabella weren't on the elevator... She gasped and
turned to face Edward's down turned face.

“Edward...”
Her voice was weak and shaky. “Edward, where are—where
are Alphonse and Isabella?” The only answer she got was a
further hunching of Edward's shoulders. Then he walked around her
and sat down in the dirt beside the tent's canvas wall, placing his
arms on top of his drawn-in knees and his head on top of his arms.

“Outta
the way, woman!” barked a medic, who was tending a gravely
wounded man on a stretcher carried by two attendants.

Noa tripped over her
feet and scurried aside to let the men pass. Her eyes were drawn to
the wounded man, who was missing most of his lower half of his body
and caked in so much gore. Their eyes met, and the man seemed to beg
her for his death rather then live as half a man. The waxy pallor of
his skin and the fading brightness in his eyes, told her that he was
most likely going to get his wish.

- - - -

Roy had been gone for
sometime now. Ed almost wished he had his pocket watch with him, so
that he'd at least have something to fiddle with or watch the seconds
slowly go by. Now though, he was pacing the ten feet from the tent
entrance to the corner and back, with his hands trust deep in the
shorts he'd pilfered from Al so long ago.

Every time he heard the
elevator come to the surface, Ed would stop his pacing and watch each
and every person exiting from the shed, looking for his brother. He
had already tried to go back down, but Roy must have alerted the rest
of the Americans somehow, because each time he got close, he got a
stern warning and a half-serious rifle thrust at him and was told to
go stand next to the tent.

He was becoming frantic.
The longer he went with no answers the more he dreaded the worst.
He can't be dead, he just can't! After everything they went through,
for Al to die now—it didn't make any bloody sense! Fucking
karma, fate, whatever! First Izzy—no can't go there. He ran
his left hand through the tangled mess on top of his head and stopped
again when the elevator clamored to a stop.

Just like every other
time, Ed's pulse raced as men began to move out into the compound.
When the wounded started coming off, Ed willed himself to wait for
them to approach the tent before he started searching for Al.
Standing off to the side, Ed scanned the wounded faces as they
entered the tent.

He almost didn't
recognize the bloodied mess when it passed him, looking small and
fragile on the canvas stretcher. His eyes went wide as they passed
him, staring blindly at the middle of the compound before he turned
and watched them take his younger brother into the tent. His throat
worked reflexively, swallowing down the bile that burned his
esophagus. Someone placed their hand on his shoulder, but he could
barely feel it he was so numb.

His little
brother...Al...was coated in his own blood. It had to be his
own...right? But there was so much of it. Ed had been on the
surface for over an hour, he guessed, though he had no way to be
sure, before Al had been brought up, would he even have any blood
left after all that time? Al had looked so pale, so pale. Ed took a
step towards the entrance of the tent, and then another, until he was
inside the tent, following after his brother's unmoving body.

The
front part of the tent was for the less serious wounds. As Ed looked
around he saw a surprised Roy sitting on a stool with his shirt off,
holding a gaze pad to his shoulder, but he didn't stop there. When
he got to the back half of the tent—he almost wished he hadn't
seen this. Ten maybe fifteen tables with men lying on top of them
were being worked on by the doctors. Each doctor was covered in
their patent's blood, with nurses moving between the tables handing
them instruments, gauze, anything they wanted. What drew Ed up short
was actually being able to see
inside more then one man, be it the chest or the stomach, Ed could
see it all.

Re-focusing on his
brother, Ed watched them lift the stretcher up and place it on the
last empty table, where a nurse immediately went to work cutting away
the blood soaked shirt. He came forward slowly, his breath weak and
faint. He just needed to make sure that Al was still alive, needed
to...to touch him...needed to know that he wasn't going to fade away
like when they were younger.

People brushed past him,
knocking his body as he continued towards his goal. He slowly raised
his left hand, intent on touching Al's shin. But then he was being
pulled away, and people were yelling at him, and they didn't make any
sense. Arms wrapped around his middle, and a hand scooped up his
thigh, picking him up and carrying him away.

“Al!
Al! Stop, I got to check—I got to see! AL!” Ed
reached for his brother even though he was getting further away. He
wrestled with the forearm across his chest unsuccessfully, finally
restoring to hitting it with his auto-mail, making his restrainer
grunt, but not let go. He was spun around so that now he couldn't
even see his brother, and then he was flung into the dirt outside the
tent's entrance.

“What
the fuck!” cursed Ed, landing on his side. He coughed out
sand, wiping the back of his mouth with his left hand. He pushed
himself up to a sitting position and looked back over his shoulder at
the man who'd thrown him out. “Just let me see my brother,
dammit!” raged Ed at the rather large red head cracking his
knuckles.

“Stay
outta the way, kid. We canna do our job when yer in the focking way,
see?” the red head said with an Irish lit to his voice. “Yer
just lucky ya ain't in the POW pen wit' all the rest.” That
said the red headed soldier turned and re-entered the tent. With a
growl of hurt and rage, Ed pounded the ground.

- - - -

Roy cradled his right
arm as he walked into the hot stiffing tent. He had to take a moment
for his eyes to adjust to the darker interior but when they did, he
strode over to the nearest doctor.

“Yes,
yes, I see you standing there,” the doctor said with a wave of
his hand. Roy had just opened his mouth to ask him where he should
go, but seemed this man, who hadn't even looked at him, knew he was
there. With a click of his teeth, Roy closed his mouth and tired to
deal with the throbbing arm in silence. Once the doctor was finished
with bandaging the soldier's wounded leg, he turned and looked Roy up
and down.

“You
don't look like your going to die just yet. Have a seat over there,”
said the doctor, pointing at a stool on the opposite side of the
tent. “And get your shirt off if you can.”

Roy nodded and strolled
over to the stool the doctor indicated and practically collapsed onto
the small thing, exhaustion making him clumsy. He fumbled with the
buttons unsuccessfully. A passing soldier-medic saw his trouble and
cut away his shirt to throw it into a pile at his feet.

“Here,”
the medic grunted, thrusting a wad of gauze at his wound, before
walking away again. Roy must have dozed then because he was awakened
when stretchers of wounded men began to stream through. Then he lost
touch again for sometime, dimly noting that other men were being
carried in time and again.

With a jerk, Roy
suddenly became aware of himself and his surroundings again. He
found himself slumped over his knees, and his gauze had fallen from
his hand to lie at his feet. He slowly worked his arm free from
between his chest and thighs and reached for the soiled pad. He made
a few faltering attempts to grasp it before he finally made his
fingers obey him. With the gauze in hand, he placed his left hand on
his knee and carefully sat upright again.

The room swam
sickeningly, his vision fading with the rush of blood pounding behind
his ears. With a sigh, Roy sluggishly lifted his hand to replace the
pad, staring at nothing. He was quite surprised then to see Ed
trailing after the wounded. Their eyes met, but Ed didn't stop to
talk, only continuing towards the back of the tent.

“Doctor!
I think it's time to patch me up!” shouted Roy over the noise
at a passing medic.

“You!
You're still here?” asked the same doctor that had shown Roy
to the stool.

“Yeah,
how about some service here!” demanded Roy. The doctor nodded
and pulled over a cart with some medical supplies on it. He had just
started when Roy looked up at Ed's shouting bloody murder to a large,
red headed man that was carrying him out to drop him hard into the
dirt outside. That man attracted trouble like there was no tomorrow.

“Hurry
it up here, man. I got to get going,” urged Roy. The doctor
grunted and began to wrap his shoulder in linen, and then put his arm
in a sling.

“I
didn't really do a through exam here, but you can do that once you're
back in Cairo.”

“Yeah,
yeah,” said Roy dismissively. He surged up off his stool and
weaved a bit until he found his balance, and then chased after Ed.

- - - -

The
Seniore groaned at the pain pounding behind his eyes. He slowly
opened his eyes, only to frown at what he couldn't
see. That's when he remembered. He was still underground in the
base...and then. What happened next? The Seniore rubbed his face as
he tried to remember what he was doing from before.

That brat! The Seniore
sat up rather quickly, blinking his eyes to adjust to the darkness.
He looked around him and saw his twins also lying on the floor. When
he found Eberhard, there would be some serious repercussions, the
Seniore promised mentally.

Looking towards the main
chamber, he saw the flash of gun fire and an occasional explosion.
Well, he wasn't going to go that way. He wanted to live long enough
to make sure he got his little pet.

“You
two! Up! Now!” barked the Seniore, rolling over onto his
knees to stand. He stood over the closest twin and kicked his toe
into the soft part of the twin's midsection sharply. The man at his
feet began to stir, so the Seniore walked down the hall to the other
twin and gave him the same treatment.

“Let's
go!” barked the Seniore once more.

- - - -

“Edward?”
asked Noa, kneeling beside him and gently placing a hand on his
shoulder.

Ed jerked his shoulder
out from under her touch, and stood, letting his hair come forward to
cover his face. He just needed to go somewhere where he could
just...just... He sniffled, a hand coming up to tug hard at his hair
in an effort to distract himself from the growing tide of emotions.

It wasn't working.

“Stay
here,” he said gruffly at Noa, and then turned on the ball of
his foot, taking off around the edge of the tent. Tears gathered at
the edge of his eyes as soon as he was away from watching eyes. Even
now he was fighting them. He walked the whole length until he
figured he was at the same spot Al was on the inside and then sat
down in the dirt with his back facing the middle of the compound. He
strained to hear what was going on inside but there was way too much
chatter to know who was working on whom.

He took a large, deep
breath in an effort to calm down, turning into a shuddering hiccup.
No, no! Don't cry; he's okay. I know it! Tears slid down his
cheeks and fell into the sand making two deep brown spots between his
legs. How long he battled with himself, he didn't know, but when he
heard the scuff of feet through the sand, he quickly tried to make
himself look a little more presentable.

“Edward,”
spoke Roy softly, watching the blond's back stiffen.

“What?”
croaked Ed, trying to hide his sniffle but not quite succeeding. He
swiped at his face, wiping away the tear tracks.

“Can
I sit with you?” asked Roy. When Ed didn't answer Roy sat with
his back to the tent quietly for several moments. Ed made no move to
face him, so he gently reached out with his left hand and pulled the
blond around. “Come here; sit on my left side.”

With another half hidden
sniffle, Ed crawled over Roy's outstretched legs and sat beside him
in the dirt, leaving a space between them. He folded his legs up
towards his chest and hid within his arms. Roy let him sit there for
a few moments before he draped his good arm across Ed's back, and
then he pulled him in, making his head hit his chest.

“Let
it out, Ed. I'm not going to judge you,” whispered Roy.

“I
c-can't. I have to be s-strong.” Ed gripped the front of his
own shirt and stared at the ground between his legs and Roy's. Ed
hardly noticed that Roy was bare-chested, but he did note the
increased tightening of Roy's hand on his left shoulder.

“You're
not weak if you cry,” said Roy softly, resting his lips on the
crown of Ed's head. “You're worried—it's natural to—”

“No!
You don't understand. A-al depends on me... and Noa—about
Izzy... I c-can't—”

“Al's
a man. He knows how to take care of himself,” interrupted Roy.

“He's
only sixteen!” said Ed, appalled that Roy would even
contemplate Al as an adult. Well, really he was nineteen. Didn't
matter, baby brothers didn't get to be men!

“Almost
old enough to go to war. Old enough to make a man's decision.”

Ed gasped. The
Americans would use the draft soon! No way would he see his baby
brother go fight in a war at someone else's command, especially if he
was going to go work with them. But what if he didn't live long
enough to even have to worry about it? His indignation at Roy's
suggestion that Al was a man had made him forget temporarily that Al
could be dead even as he spoke.

Roy smoothed the hair
back from Ed's face, craning his neck to see just what was happening.
The blond's eyes flickered up to meet his, filling up with tears
that fell down his cheeks. Ed closed his eyes tight and turned his
face away.

“Ed...”
whispered Roy. He was going to say more, something along the lines
of how good it would feel to be able to let go and just express your
emotions. But it seemed that just saying Ed's name again was enough,
because he suddenly threw his left arm around Roy's waist and buried
his face in his neck, pushing him back somewhat towards the tent
canvas.

All
of Ed's grief and fears bathed Roy's neck and chest. He bore it all,
squeezing the shaking man to his side ever harder as the sobs grew
more ragged. Roy began to doubt if all this was really as a result
of his brother getting shot. It was too much, too deep, or maybe Ed
was just really that
sensitive. He leaned his cheek on Ed's shaking head, and closed his
eyes. It was painful to see him like this. Ed was right. He'd been
so strong up until now, that Roy couldn't reconcile the two halves;
the emotional side and the brash, angry side.

When he was a kid, his
grandfather used to sing to him an old Lakota lullaby whenever he
used to take a spill or when he lost control of his fire. It had
been so nice to be within those arms and hear that deep voice sing of
times long ago, even if he didn't know all the words. So now, even
though he hadn't thought about it for many years, the song was
suddenly there. He began to hum the tune, singing only the chorus,
softly into the top of Ed's head. It felt right, felt like it was
time. Time to become who his grandfather always wanted him to be.
Time to reclaim his Indian name; Flame Mustang.

“Roy...”
croaked Ed after a time. The singing helped. It was really hypnotic
and whatever language that was, it was beautiful. He had to become
quiet just so he could listen. He sniffled loudly, and wiped at his
nose, but wouldn't look at Roy. “Why?”

“Why
what, buddy?” asked Roy softly, he began to rub his hand up and
down Ed's back. Small goose bumps broke out along his arm at the
whisper of breath from the man still resting on his shoulder.

“Why
are you being so nice to me?” wondered Ed. He stared at the
neck in front of him, his gaze drawn to a small freckle near where
his collar bones met in the middle of his neck.

“Shouldn't
I be?” wondered Roy softly.

Ed sighed, and wondered
how he could answer that. He wanted to know what Roy felt for him,
but couldn't figure out how to ask without asking.

“Ed,
whatever happens...I want you to come with me to South Dakota when
this is all over. Please say you'll come.”

“What—why?
Y-you want me to come with you!” Ed sat back, pulling out of
the embrace and sitting back on his heels to be able to see Roy's
face.

“I'm
going to leave the military, it's not—”

“You
can't!” shouted Ed. Roy looked at him, startled. “It's
your life isn't it?” Ed explained. It was such a part of the
colonel-bastard's life, that it must be the same for this Roy. At
least that's what he figured. Although he was thrilled that Roy
wanted to continue to know him enough to invite him to go with him.

Roy smiled sardonically
at the ground, and then looked back up at Ed. “Maybe at one
point it was. Before you.”

“Me?”
The air seemed thin as he looked into Roy's tired face.

“Look,
I...I don't want to go too deep into this now, but—” Roy
sighed heavily and ran his hand through his hair, the motion drawing
Ed's eyes to the fact that Roy was half naked and his shoulder now
bandaged in a cloth sling. Roy leaned forward and cupped Ed's tear
stained, red cheek, wiping away the evidence of his sorrow. He tuned
his hand over and brushed the other side with the back of his
knuckles.

Ed's mouth fell open at
the tender touch, wave of goose bumps traveled down his body all the
way to his toes, making him shiver. He closed his eyes and leaned
into the hand, craving so much more, but restraining himself.

“But,
I want to tell you when you come to see me. Promise me?” asked
Roy. He couldn't take his eyes off of Ed's slightly parted lips and
the small flash of teeth within his moist mouth. He almost wanted to
run his thumb across those lips just to remind himself of their
texture; of that brief kiss.

Slowly,
Ed opened his eyes again and looked into Roy's dark ones. Was this
for real? Roy wanted to know him, wanted
him
to visit? And he had something to tell him? What could it be? He
had to swallow hard before he could answer. “I—”

“Ed!”
Noa's voice broke the spell and both Roy and Ed turned to see Noa
standing at the far corner of the tent waving at them. “Al...”

With
a shocked gasp, Ed was on his feet and about to run to Noa when he
suddenly skidded to a stop as he realized that he hadn't responded
yet to Roy. “I got to look after Al now,” said Ed
quickly. He felt so torn. His brother was his life...but Roy... It
could mean a new kind of life for him...with
Roy...at least that's what it sounded like. He didn't want to lose
that chance. But for right now, Al was his priority. “Ask me
again,” said Ed, looking over his shoulder at the man still
seated in the dirt. At Roy's nod, Ed turned and sprinted down the
length of the tent towards his best friend.

--To Be Continued--

So very near the end now
-sniffle- make sure you review so I don't sink into a depression over
the coming end to “A Little Light of Love” -sniffle, sob-
- 18
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A Little Light of Love