Adult-FanFiction.org : Gundam, Beyblade, DBZ, FMA

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
- 19
- 20
- 21
Disclaimer:
I do NOT own Fullmetal Alchemist or its characters.....I'm just
playing with them.

Author's
note:

Thanks
to ZaKai for reading and beta-ing my story once again. XD

No
matter what anyone says, I
like Noa. She has a quiet strength to her that's very admirable. Go
Noa!

Also,
I TOTALLY forgot! I got new fanart by ~Ellie-Underhill. The link can
be found on my profile. I'm sooo sorry! I didn't mean to forget your
props, but with everything else happening...it just slipped! I hope
you can forgive me!

(1)
I
most certainly DO NOT share these views. I'm a very tolerant, and
accepting person. Don't believe me, ask and find out.

Chapter
20

Noa
was reeling. Not only had she not known that Alphonse had been
wounded, but...Isabella was dead? Why hadn't Edward said something
to her? Of course, she knew why. He felt as if it was his fault and
was already taking the blame for both his brother getting wounded and
the girl's death. If she still had Edward's bravado she would have
marched right up to him and slapped him silly, but instead, she
stumbled over to the edge of the tent and collapsed to her knees.

She
wasn't sure what to feel for whom. Alphonse...Alphonse could be
dead... She had seen just how bad Alphonse had looked when she had
touched Edward's shoulder. It didn't look like he could possibly be
alive. He looked so frail and small, even though he was much taller
then her. Would she ever know if those faint tinglings she was
getting from Alphonse were even real? What if he died before she
could even tell him how she felt in return? She shook her head, her
eyes focused blindly on the sand beneath her. For the first time in
her cursed life, Noa wanted to be with someone...really be
with someone who cared for her as she care for him, and not to run
away as she had always done in the past. Alphonse would be that.
She knew!

The
images she pulled from Edward's mind played over and over. She saw
the terror and heart dropping fear
which had gripped Edward as he witnessed Alphonse tumble to the
ground with the ever increasing spot of blood on his chest. Edward's
fear became hers again at the thought of being without Alphonse.
Edward had focused on Alphonse's legs when he was inside the tent.
The skin was so pale that it looked like the vellum paper she saw
once in a fancy shop long ago. She saw Edward reach for Alphonse
only to be snatched away at the last second, and Edward's pain
amplified her own to an agonizing degree. Her chest ached
with it.

Oh,
the blood. How she hated to look at blood, more so now that she had
seen Alphonse covered in it. Alfons had been covered with blood, and
the two became one in her mind. She couldn't see Alphonse without
seeing Alfons as well. She had cradled his dead body after waking
and finding herself alone on this side of the gate; Edward having
gone on without her.

Isabella
too. How could she be dead? She was only five years old! Not even
old enough to know what the world was like, and yet already so wise.
She looked after her mother, helped around the house, was a good
daughter, a good...child. A strangled sob choked its way free. She
blinked rapidly at the sand, trying to clear her clouding vision.

All
the time she had spent with the small girl had made them very close.
Noa had come to look at the small girl like a sister. The sister
that accepted her without question and loved her despite her curse,
and now, just like that, in a blink of an eye...she was gone.
Crushed under a bolder of rock! She had seen that too, in Edward's
mind. He had watched the large rock break free and plummet to the
ground directly on top of Isabella's position. One minute smiling,
the next...gone. What...what a horrible...way to die...

Noa's
small brown hands flew up to cover her face, making her gold
bracelets tinkle against one another. Her utter shock was fading and
becoming a choking grief. Her chest was tight and her eyes swam with
tears about to be shed. She could feel the tremors start and didn't
know if she could handle this without Alphonse...or Edward. Edward
should be here—no Alphonse should be here. She wanted Alphonse
to hold her, and enfold her in his arms, pulling her towards his
chest where she could hide from all this emotional torment. She
could almost imagine Alphonse's arms around her, holding her. Oh,
Alphonse! Please don't die!

Her
throat worked against the sudden obstruction that seemed to be lodged
there. She didn't know who to morn for first. The tears came, in
painful gasps and hard fought sniffles, but it was better then
holding them back, which hurt even more.

“—Noa!”
Roy grabbed her arm and shook her to make her look up. “Didn't
you hear me?” he demanded, his face angry and leaning over her
bent form. Always demanding something from someone...everyone
demanded something from her...

Noa
barely looked up at Roy's hovering face. Moving her fingers just
enough to see him, she shook her head. Nothing made sense anymore.
Alphonse can't die, couldn't be dead. Not after all the things
Edward had done to bring him back. All his suffering to right his
wrong, it would be for nothing if he died now. It was so unfair.

“Noa,
where is Ed? Is he alright?” he asked franticly. Roy frowned
at the woman when she didn't respond to him. “Noa! Where's
Ed?” he asked more forcefully, giving her shoulder a rough
shake.

Noa
blinked at steely tone of voice Roy used, and was reminded of other
parts of Edward's past. A stern Colonel yelling at a younger version
of Edward, and making him feel small and ashamed for destroying yet
another piece of property. “Alphonse, he—so much blood.
I—” she said, trying to make him understand. Understand
everything. There was so much to know...

“Listen
here!” growled Roy, the hand on her arm squeezed tight. “I
will let you alone as long as you tell me where Edward went.”
He looked down at her with such intensity that she wanted to answer
him. She wanted him
to be with Edward if Edward couldn't be with her. Someone should
find some comfort in all this.

“Ah!
He-he went down there,” she gasped around the pain, pointing
to the corner of the tent. He released her shoulder and nodded at
her. Shakily, he walked around the corner and out of sight.
“Alphonse...” she moaned to herself. Oh,
Alphonse, please don't die, for both our sakes,
she silently pleaded before covering her face again.

She
sobbed into her hands once more. All those wonderful times she had
spent with both Edward and Alphonse; them together, walking through
the parks in Germany, following behind as they searched for clues for
their self-appointed mission to save the world from itself. She had
really enjoyed those times, had enjoyed getting close to both of
them, and being accepted for just being herself. Was it just moments
later, or did hours pass, when the sound of voices intruded into
Noa's personal bubble of grief and remembrance. She looked up in
time to see a soldier wave a truck that was backing up closer to the
tent.

“More,
more...there! Hold it!” The soldier waved his arms and the
truck groaned to a stop. She was ignored as that man walked forward
to the front of the truck. Just as well...she didn't want to talk
with anyone.

“—I
want all the stable cases loaded on to the truck and taken to the
Cairo Hospital, we just can't handle the volume by ourselves.”
A stern male voice, used to giving orders came from inside the tent,
drawing her attentions to the growing commotion around her. Noa
turned her head to watch two ragged looking men stride out of the
tent. The larger of the two pulled on the others arm to make him
stop.

“I'm
telling you, that some patients might die if we move them now. It's
irresponsible to do this, aren't we supposed to protect life?”
the larger man said. Both men were weary and covered in other
people's blood.

“Now's
not the time to discuss the finer points of philosophy. I got
wounded—more then I can handle, and this is what I'm telling
you will happen. Carry out your orders, soldier,” ordered the
other man with a note of finality.

“Yes...sir,”
said the man arguing against those orders. Both men went their
separate ways, leaving Noa to wonder vaguely what was happening, but
it was beside the point compared to her grief and sorrow. She became
immersed in her grief again only to look up when they started loading
up the truck with wounded men. They slid each stretcher, one above
the other, into the truck with only a small corridor between the
wounded on one side and the wounded on the other.

Noa
fell over onto her hands and knees. Oh
no! Alphonse! Where are they taking Alphonse?
she thought in distress. She recognized the bottom of his boots as
they loaded him onto the top slot of the truck. They were moving
him! Edward would need to know! Why were they moving him! He must
be one of the cases the taller man was talking about! Pulling her
dress out from under her knees, she quickly got to her feet and
grabbed the soiled jacket of one of the men walking back into the
tent.

“What
are you doing? Where's he going?” asked Noa breathlessly. She
clutched at the blood stiffened wool of his jacket, willing strength
she didn't have into her long fingers. “You can't take him!”
she nearly shrieked into his weary face.

“What's
this woman doing here?” the man asked over his shoulder at his
friend. He only got a shrug in answer. Without waiting for a reply,
he turned back to Noa. “Look, I don't have time for this.
We're very busy trying to save lives here.” He pushed Noa
aside and went back inside the tent.

“No!”
Noa scrambled up the truck, squeezing between the wounded and into
the small space between beds. She reached up and pulled Alphonse's
limp hand down off his stomach. It was so cold. A confused sob
burst from her mouth. Standing on her tip-toes, she brushed the back
of his hand over her cheek. “Please, Alphonse,” she
urged, not sure what she was pleading for. His life, for him to
stay, for him to love her...

“Hey!
What do you think you're doing there!” a voice demanded behind
her.

“Alphonse—I
want you to listen to me,” she whispered, ignoring the shouts
from outside the truck. “I want you to hear
my voice. Alphonse...hold onto the sound of my voice.” She
closed her eyes and sought out the essence of Alphonse's mind.
“Alphonse...” she whispered again. Oh, his mind was so
far away already. She had to make sure he didn't leave. “Alphonse,
you must
stay, please, you must fight. I don't want you to leave me,
Alphonse.”

“—Woman!
Get outta there—”

Finally,
Noa found Alphonse's mind. It was slowly leaking away, as if it was
sand falling out of the bottom of a cracked pot. Not knowing what
else she should do, she brushed him with her thoughts, and the
leaking paused, uncertain. Encouraged, she touched it again.
Alphonse's mind swirled with a rainbow of color and then came towards
her. It was almost at her 'feet' when it stopped and changed to a
somber red, then it headed back towards the crack.

“Alphonse...”
whispered Noa, getting desperate. She squeezed his larger hand in
hers. “Alphonse, it's not your fault. I know. Isabella's
dead. I know...it hurts, but don't run. Please, we need you, Edward
and I. I
need you, Alphonse.” Alphonse's mind stopped just short of the
crack and shifted through a range of somber colors. “I need
you. I want you, don't you see?” She was getting desperate
for him to understand. He had to understand!

The
shifting of colors slowed and settled on a pale yellow. Noa held her
breath, wondering if she should say more. Alphonse's mind came
towards her, then stopped, then shifted back towards the crack and
stopped again. “Alphonse, I love
you. I want to be with you. Won't you stay, please,” she
tried once more. She could feel a hand gripping her arm, trying to
pull her away. She waited desperately for Alphonse's reply, knowing
that her connection would soon be broken. Just as she was about to
be yanked from her hold on Alphonse's hand she saw his mind blaze in
a glorious hue of bright color, and then she lost her hold and
connection to him.

As
she was pulled from the truck, she looked up at Al and saw his chest
rise and fall with new strength, making her smile with hope that he
would make it through. The mind was powerful after all. If Alphonse
wanted to live, he would. The soldier who had pulled her from the
truck was speaking at her but she wasn't listening. Pushing at the
hands that still held her away, she looked over her shoulder at the
edge of the tent. She had to find Edward, let him know what was
happening with Alphonse.

- - - -

The
Seniore led the twins away
from the main chamber, much to their confusion. They looked at each
other as they ran down the dark hallways in wonder. Why weren't they
headed to the elevator? That was the quickest way out.

As
puzzled as the twins were, they didn't broach the subject with their
master. They turned down this hallway, turned up that one. Again
and again they trotted after their master's quick steps, baffled
about where they were going. They didn't even dare to ask where the
Seniore was leading them. The master had taught them quite early
that disobedience was a whipping offense, and they didn't like being
whipped.

They
both kept an eye out for Marcoh's monsters while master walked ahead
of them. Scanning the walls and ceiling to make sure they weren't
going to surprise any of those things was their job. If they found
something that would endanger the Seniore, they would gladly do
whatever was necessary to make sure that the Seniore remained
unharmed.

“It's
here,” the Seniore said, skidding to a stop in front of a
nondescript door. The twins scanned the walls and flanked both sides
of the Seniore.

The
Seniore wiped a hand under his bleeding nose, winching as the broken
cartilage moved, before he reached into his pant pocket, and pulled
out a key, fitting it in the lock. Once open, he replaced the key in
his pants and opened the door. “In!”

The
twins glance at each other and then entered the doorway. They looked
around curiously at a crudely chiseled stairway going up at an almost
vertical angle into a deep darkness.

“Up!
Hurry boys,” the Seniore urged, closing the door behind him
and cutting off all light. Even as he did so, the Seniore gave a
passing thought to Johann's fate, and the fact that he was now
abandoning him. The boy was probably still within his room waiting
on him to come back, but dismissed it almost immediately when he
remembered that he would soon have an even greater prize in his
possession soon.

He
couldn't let Edward get away with all his transgressions without
serve
punishment. While his
little blond may hate him for it, the Seniore would enjoy every
moment he had Edward under his control. He would be sure to inflict
torment the likes Edward hadn't even imagined on that well muscled
body. Climbing behind the twins, the Seniore allowed himself the
indulgence of imaging each and every single lash his whip would rain
down on that fine body, marking it as his own.

“Sir?”
one of the twins called down from above, his voice hesitant. The
Seniore grunted, and the twin in question continued with his
question. “We were under the impression—”

“—That
there was only two exits,” the other finished.

The
Seniore chuckled lowly. Yes, there were two ways to leave the base.
Two official
ways to leave the base. The main one, in the front chamber, and
another, less known exit; a tunnel that led under the sand to the
mountains. “To the Germans, yes, but for me, I studied the old
blueprints very
carefully. What they missed, I found.”

- - - -

He took in every detail
of Noa's body language as he ran towards her. The way she fiddled
with the front of Roy's jacket, how she looked at him steadily as he
approached...and her tear stained face. Looking at her face, Ed
reached up and scrubbed his own, hoping it wasn't too obvious what he
had been doing for the last half hour or so. Swallowing, he reached
out and gripped her arm, drawing her with him.

“Edward,”
said Noa, breathlessly. “I saw Al—”

“You
did?” questioned Ed, his eyes going wide. “Where? How?”
His hold on her arm tightened unconsciously. How did she
get to see Al and he was thrown out? That wasn't fair!
He was the older brother! He should get to see Al before Noa!

“Yes!
I touched him and—”

“Noa!—”
interrupted Ed, getting impatient. He didn't want to know about her
touching Al, he wanted to know what the urgency was.

“I
was able to bring him back,” said Noa, her eyes sparkling. She
pulled him towards a large military truck, and pointed at the tarp
covered bed.

“What
are you saying?” Ed gripped her other arm with his auto-mail,
and shook her closer to his face. Bring him back? Back from where?
That made no sense. He was in the tent behind him. “What are
you saying!” he asked again, his voice coming out hard, and
steely. Panic settled deep in his stomach, and he shook her again
for good measure. “What's happening?”

“Al's
alive,” Noa gasped, her hands coming up inside his grip to pull
at his green shirt.

“Why
wouldn't he be alive, Noa! What's happening? Make sense, dammit!”
growled Ed, giving her another shake.

“You're—you're
hurting me, Edward,” whined Noa, wincing.

His
eyes went wide. Ed pushed her away, and frowned. He didn't mean to
hurt her. He didn't want to hurt anyone.
But no matter how careful he was, someone always got hurt around
him. He grimaced, and backed away from her even more, holding his
right hand into his chest. “Okay, okay. Just tell me,”
said Ed, forcing himself to be calm and rational. He took a
steadying breath, and looked her in the eyes.

“Al
was fading. He wasn't going to last long,” she explained. His
eyes went wide, and he went cold. The small hairs on the back of his
neck, and arm stood up. Even though he was in the desert, he
shivered. “So I touched his hand,” continued Noa,
oblivious. “And it was color all around me.” Her eyes
danced, taking on a far away look, and she smiled. “It was
like when I took your anger, but different. He'll be okay now. I
saw it.”

“Noa...was
Al—Al was...dying?” asked Ed softly, his brows deeply
furrowed now. He daren't breathe
in case...in case it somehow changed her answer.

“Yes,
I've already said that, Edward, but he'll be okay now. I've fixed
it. I saw it.”

Ed
couldn't make the air in his lungs come out. Al was dying? While he
was outside, carrying on and behaving like a kid—crying while
Al was dying? But wait, she said he wasn't now. So, if he was going
to live... Ed didn't want to ask... If Al was okay now, then what
was the emergency? Why call him over if Al was okay now? Telling
him that Al had almost died would just make him freak. He was
freaking. He forced himself to take a breath before he asked,
“Noa...” Ed reached for her, but he saw his right hand
in his peripheral vision, so he closed his hands and let them drop to
his sides. “If Al's okay, why—”

“They're
taking him to the city,” said Noa, pointing at the truck.

Ed
gasped, and looked behind him. Men on hanging stretchers were
stacked one on top of the other. “Wha...” whispered Ed,
clenching his teeth. “WHAT! Who said they could do that?”
he yelled. He looked franticly around at the front of the MASH tent,
and saw a man with a blood stained smock come out and hand a solider
a clip board.

“You!”
He pinned the doctor with a metal finger pointed at the center of
his chest. “Who gave you permission
to move my brother?” The man in question looked up at him with
only mild curiosity, and then turned back to the soldier with more
instructions. Ed stomped over, doing his best to intimidate the man
into obedience. “I asked you a question!” growled Ed as
he neared.

“I
heard you, I just chose not to answer,” came the smarmy reply.

“What's
happening?” wondered Roy. He stopped beside Noa, and watched
as Ed stalked after the doctor. It had taken him three tries to get
to his feet after Ed left, and when he did, he had almost fallen back
down. He almost didn't make it to the edge of the tent, because half
way there, his vision spotted to the point where he couldn't see. He
had gripped the canvas tight in order to stay on his feet until he
could see again.

What
he really needed was to lie down, but his job was far from over yet.
He still had to give his report, and that would require finding the
colonel, and that meant he'd have to look around. He closed his eyes
in exhaustion, and pleaded for some mercy from above, and a bed. A
bed would be really nice.

“I
saved Al from dying, and now he's going to the city,” replied
Noa, and sighed happily.

Roy
did a double take, and looked down at the woman with a frown.
“Okay...” So much for a bed. “Ed! Maybe you
shouldn't bother him,” yelled Roy, trying to get his voice to
carry across the distance, but it came out sounding tired, and weary.

“That.
Is. My. Brother!” growled Ed. He shot a glare over his
shoulder at Roy, and then turned around to get his answers from the
doctor.

“Listen,
I don't have time for this. These men need to get going, and the
longer you hold them up, the more likely someone will die,” the
doctor said, giving a push on Ed's shoulder so he could pass.

Ed
seethed. Adrenaline shot though him, but there wasn't anyone he
could fight to make this right. This was in the hands of people he
didn't know; doctors and nurses who didn't have any reason to go that
extra mile to make sure Al survived. This guy didn't care that Al
could die. He didn't give a fuck!
He was the only one that could handle this.

“Who
said anyone could take him anywhere?” demanded Ed at the
doctor's back. He had to sort this out before anything happened to
Al. After all that had happened to them, he couldn't let Al out of
his sight. He couldn't lose his little brother again.
He reached out and gripped the doctor's elbow, pulling him around
forcefully. “Who said you could take him!”
he yelled at the man's face.

“I
did, and I will!” the doctor said as he turned back to glare at
him. He waved his arm at the truck and the engine turned over with a
cough of black exhaust hitting them in the legs. Ed gasped in
stunned horror.

Ed
pulled on the doctor's arm, shoving him out of the way with glare
that he hoped displayed his utter hated for the man, and then hurried
after the moving truck.

“Ed,
you can't—” yelled Roy, trying to make his voice carry
over the rumble of the large diesel engine, but he hardly heard
himself, so he could guess that Ed wouldn't be able to hear him.
Chasing after him wasn't an option, since he was sure he'd just end
up face first in the dirt.

He
watched as Ed hurried after the truck, reaching out with his right
hand to pull on the door handle. The truck lurched to a stop, and Ed
yanked the door wide open. Roy swallowed, and forced his already
tired body into action.

Ed
growled at the driver who was looking at him like he was out of his
mind. He was up and into the cab before the man even opened his
mouth to say something to him. Ed reached over and pulled the keys
from the ignition, killing the engine. Pushing on the man's head, Ed
vaulted back into the sand.

“I
am warning you! If you continue to hold this soldier up, you will be
thrown in the brig!” the doctor said, striding over to him with
a dark look.

“My
brother isn't going with them! Take him off!” ordered Ed.

“Ed,
please,” said Roy, placing his good hand over Ed's left
shoulder. Roy recoiled from the look of pure venom Ed shot at him.
Ed seemed to come back to himself for a moment as he searched Roy's
face, and a look of regret entered into his eyes. Roy forced himself
forward again, willing to take advantage of the moment if it helped
the brother somehow.

He
placed his hand back over Ed's shoulder, felt the tenseness in the
muscles, and then ran his hand lightly down to Ed's elbow, and lifted
until the arm bent between them. Ed swallowed hard, and struggled
with himself. Roy could feel how Ed wanted to move, but somehow he
held back. Ed's hand hovered between them, gripping the keys
tightly. Roy didn't blink, and he wasn't going to let go.

“Edward...”
said Roy again, softer. Ed blinked, and shuddered; one that went
down his whole body, and then he dropped the keys into the dirt. Roy
nodded to the doctor, and he cautiously stepped forward, his eyes on
Ed the whole time, and picked up the keys.

Roy
sighed, and stepped closer to Ed so he could feel his warmth. He
watched as he moved his hand down Ed's arm until he had his wrist in
the palm of his hand. His fingers brushed over Ed's racing pulse.
Ed dropped his gaze to their feet, pulling his hand down so that he
could grip Roy's hand in his.

The
truck rumbled back to life, the driver's side door closing with a
slam. Ed raised his head, and just looked at the truck with the most
pitiful, forlorn expression. It made Roy's heart squeeze in his
chest, and he wasn't even sure why.
Roy struggled with his tired mind to try and say
something—anything—that would ease that look
off of Ed's face.

“Do
you promise?” asked Ed, letting his gaze drop to their feet.
His grip became just this side of uncomfortable as Roy's knuckles
ground together.

“Yes,”
answered Roy easily. He'd promise anything to this man now, without
even knowing that he was saying yes to. Ed could have it, all of
it...any of it. He blinked tiredly at the top of Ed's head, thought
about leaning into the smaller man so he could just rest, and then
dismissed it as too much effort right now.

“Taylor!
There you are! The colonel wants to see you and—I suppose
this is the elusive Edward Elric we were sent to get?” Roy
looked behind him blearily to see Jones walking towards them with a
cigarette hanging out of his mouth, and grinning.

“Looks
just like the guy in the picture, eh?” Jones commented
good-naturedly when he came to a stop beside the pair.

“Hm,”
agreed Roy quietly. He watched Jones's cigarette with longing, but
he didn't want to let go of Ed's hand just yet in order to reach for
it. He could really do with a smoke about now...and maybe a drink of
something golden, like Ed's eyes. A fire too. Oh—and a bed!
There had to be a bed somewhere in that fantasy. With clean sheets.
Yeah, that sounded alright.

“What'd
you do to yourself?” asked Jones, giving Roy's sling the once
over, and raising an eyebrow at him.

“Stray
bullet,” replied Roy slowly, feeling the pull of exhaustion
again. He couldn't focus very well, and blinked slowly at Jones'
mouth. The sky tilted slightly to the left, and then slowly reset
itself. Roy frowned, and held onto Ed's hand. “Nee' ta sit,”
he mumbled, as the sky shifted again. Not pleasant, not fun,
headache forming behind his eyes. His knees decided to turn to
jelly, his hand slipped out of Ed's hold, and he headed for the dirt.

“Whoa,
easy there, Taylor,” said Jones, catching him around the waist
and holding him upright. “Okay, tough day at the office for
ol' Roy, here. Hey blondie, I got a commanding officer that would
like to talk to you.” As Jones was saying that, he had plucked
the cigarette from his mouth and put it in Roy's mouth. “Come
on. You can help me drag this one somewhere where he can rest up a
bit.”

Ed
closed his eyes, blocking out Roy's slumped body. He needed to get
out of here and be with Al. “I don't want to talk to your
officer. I want someone to take me where Al is,” said Ed,
opening his eyes and looking into the newcomer's face with a glare,
before turning his attentions out into the desert.

“We
don't always get what we all want, now do we,” said Jones, with
a small grin.

“No...we
don't,” said Ed, his gaze falling back down to his feet. Would
this be some fucked up way of the scales trying to balance out? He
had Al, whole and in the flesh, but somehow it wasn't enough. They
hadn't paid enough yet, and now the fucking universe was back to
collect the interest? When would it ever be enough? How much did he
have to endure
before it was ever going to be enough?

“—got
some pretty sweet bargaining chips he's willing to offer.”

“Wha—”
asked Ed, looking blearily up at the man holding Roy.

“Edward,
lets go,” whispered Noa, slipping her hand into his. Ed
frowned in confusion, and looked at Noa. He'd actually forgotten
about her; that she was here. Al better be safe. “The quicker
we're done here, the sooner we can go to Alphonse's side,” she
said. Noa rested her chin on his shoulder, tightened her grip on his
limp hand.

Ed
made no move to answer Noa, nor return the squeeze of her hand on
his. He looked out into the desert, and the fading cloud of dust
kicked up from Al's truck. Al...be safe. Don't die. Everything
he'd worked so hard to put behind him from his time in the military
rushed back to knock the cobwebs off, and revisit his old
insecurities. Life alone without Al, living with the fact that he
had done this to his only little brother, having to be alone—damn,
he hated to be alone. Being alone was so...empty.

He
swallowed around the bitter lump in his throat. He didn't want to be
alone anymore. He wanted his brother, alive and well, and
he...just—he just wanted.
He had a right
to want now! He'd given years of his life to others, ignoring his
own want. Now it was his turn! He wanted Al to be well and happy.
He wanted to visit Roy someday. He wanted to love—please let
there be love. He wanted acceptance for who he was, and the mistakes
he'd made. Everyone...made...mistakes.

But
his mistakes... They were so...heavy. Sometimes he couldn't stand
how they weighed him down, even now. It was hard sometimes to just
keep moving. Izzy... He'd find her parents...somehow... He
need—wanted to tell them what a good girl she was... Ed
blinked hard. She was
a good girl, always smiling at them. So trusting.

“Let's
get this briefing over with. I think I need to sleep for about a
week,” mumbled Roy, the cigarette bobbing as he spoke.

Ed
looked over at Roy, and wanted from him too. So much younger then
Mustang, so free from whatever drove the colonel to plan and
manipulate everyone around him. He was so different, but he could
almost guess that Mustang was exactly like this as a younger
man...before he got that look in his eyes.

That
brief look of haunting pain that he'd seen at the battle assessment
all those years ago now. Mustang would be like this at this
age...but Roy Taylor wasn't like Mustang. Roy was himself, and not a
copy of Mustang, like Mustang was a copy of Roy. It was here, now,
that Roy became different. If Roy left the military now, then he
would grow into someone different, someone that shared little with
his double back home.

Ed
started, and snorted under his breath. Since when did Mustang become
the double? Roy was the original in his mind even though he knew it
was the other way around from his point of view. Original...and he
wanted him to come to America to visit him. He had something to tell
him... He tilted his head in Roy's direction and glance at his
slumped body, leaning heavily on this newcomer. He wondered what it
was that Roy wanted to tell him. He wanted to ask...

“Let's
go, we've already made them wait too long,” said Jones kindly.
“Come on, blondie. Time for your interview.”

- - - -

“Those
are the terms of your contract,” Major General Thompson said,
easing back into the metal office chair of his commandeered office.
He regarded the dirty, sullen man standing in front of him with a
critical eye, waiting for his response to his terms.

Slowly,
the mop of tangled hair lifted and unnatural yellow eyes bored into
his own. Those strange eyes startled him. Like an animal's...they
were unnatural. The major general narrowed his eyes at the smaller
man when he continued to remain mute, and then he became angry at the
insolent look on the boy's face.

“What
is your answer?” demanded the major general, barely able to
reign in his temper. The longer he looked into those eyes, the more
unsettled he became. They needed this petulant brat. He couldn't
blow this chance for his government. He had a promotion riding on
this mission and its successful completion. This...pup wouldn't be
holding him back.

“I'll
answer, but after my brother is healed. You better make sure he
doesn't die, since you took him away to who knows where,” said
the man in front of him. He had the gall
to make conditions on his answer? Those feral looking eyes picked up
light and reflected it back, making him look animalistic. It was
unnerving.

“I
won't be ordered around by a pup like you,” snarled the major
general, rising out of his chair. He slammed a hand down hard on the
desk top, and leaned forward towards the man on the other side, using
his most imposing glare.

“It's
not an order, major general, it's a condition of my response,”
stated the man flatly, his eyes flickering upwards to follow his
movement, in doing so, his eyes reverted back to the dull, plain,
human eyes.

The
major general felt his lip twitch in annoyance, but in the end it
wasn't so hard for him to order that the brat's sibling get some
extra special attention. It wasn't an unreasonable demand...yet. As
long as the boy lived...if not...well, he'd already explored many
options to obtain Mr. Elric's cooperation before hand. His
government was very interested in the claim from Fritz Lang that this
man knew the future.

“Done,”
agreed the major general, resuming his seat, making the chair creak.
“Corporal!” A head was quickly thrust through the office
door, with a smart salute. “Call the hospital; I want young
Elric treated with the utmost care, understood?”

“Yessir!”
the corporal said, snapping off another salute before closing the
door behind him.

“Satisfied?”
the major general asked, returning his attention to the man before
him.

“Almost.
I want a ride into the city. I need to be at my brother's side,”
said the blond, his voice less steely now that he had gotten what he
most wanted. “Once I know he'll be okay, I'll give you your
answer.”

“Fine,
outta my sight,” growled the major general with a wave of his
hand. He dropped his eyes back to the documents littering his table
top. When the door was opened again he looked up to watch the man
enter into the hallway, then shook his head at himself and returned
to concentrating on wrapping up the assault.

- - - -

In
the end, Schreck decided that the Spanish flu research would be the
most valuable to the Führer.
If all went well, they would have numerous test subjects within a
few years as they implemented the 'final solution' to the Jewish
question. Sooner if the Führer
could manage it. There was a plague—an infestation of Jews
(1).

They
were polluting the pure Aryan race with their vile breeding and
Jewish faith. He knew that the Führer
would want something new to help deal with them. So, as the fighting
in the chamber escalated, Schreck sent out his second-in-command and
a few office technicians down the pathology lab to gather up the lab
workers, the samples and the research and meet him in the hallway
deep in the base, far from the fighting. There was a large bulkhead
door that lead to a tunnel. By the time anyone got this deep into
the base they'd be long gone.

While
his men left to carry out his orders, Schreck made his way out the
back of the control room, abandoning it to make his way to the
rendezvous point.

- - - -

“...And
then I went back for Edward, and got him on the platform. You know
the rest, sir,” finished Roy, closing his eyes briefly before
opening them again. Exhaustion pulled his eyes closed and he could
feel the start of a headache behind his temples. It was battle for
him to stay awake—one that he was quickly losing.

“Indeed.
Sounds like you almost fucked up royally,” commented Colonel
Tompkins, as he played with a small pocket knife, working it under
his short nails.

“Yes,
sir,” said Roy meekly. He looked at the metal beneath his
feet, and said nothing more. Ed seemed to look at him in his minds
eye. Those eyes...
Those impossibly yellow eyes just looked right through him even in
his memory. He tried to remember if their color was more like a wild
buttercup, or like a glass of scotch. He blinked slowly at his feet.
Maybe it wasn't like anything, maybe Ed's eyes were a whole new
color just for him alone, because he was so...unique. He was so new
and strange, so much like a—Roy smirked—like a gale wind
actually, and he wanted to see him again already. He wanted to get
to know more about him. Lifting his head, his eyes focused on his
commanding officer in shock. Wasn't Ed supposed to be sitting across
from him...

Then
he remembered...he was giving his report. The will to move slowly
seeped out of him. It felt like it was pooling around his feet, to
run off the back of the truck into the dirt. He really needed to
rest. Only a few minutes would do it. He just need to—

“Hey,
colonel. You won't believe what I found,” Jones said, poking
his head into the back of the truck the colonel was using for the
debriefing. “Oh! Are you done?” he asked seeing Roy
sitting across from his reclining commanding officer.

Roy
let his head fall to the side and he just blinked at Jones. He
looked past him and out the back of the truck, searching. It wasn't
until he started to get disappointed at what he didn't find, that his
mind finally told him that the owner of those golden eyes were
missing.

“More
or less,” the colonel said, brushing down the front of his
uniform, and closing the pocket knife. Roy dragged his gaze back
inside the truck and looked across at the colonel.

“Well,
I was strolling behind the POW enclosure, when I noticed something
very, very interesting.” Jones paused, quirking an eyebrow at
the colonel.

“Alright,
I'll bite. What did you see?” the colonel wondered.

“The
seller and his wife,” Jones said around a large grin.

Roy
let his head roll back to Jones, and blinked. He was looking for
that person. The...earl... Yeah, the earl and his wife were into
something weird. They wanted Ed for something, and the husband was
going to give the brother to the wife. Roy blinked again. Could it
really be that easy? They got them?

He
wondered how the rest of his team was doing. Maybe they were even
here somewhere amongst the soldiers. Somewhere out there, Ed was
talking with the major general. He wished he could see him now. Roy
blinked again, but when he tried to open his eyes this time, he found
them way to heavy to bother, so he didn't. He could hear the
conversation continue on without him, and he couldn't care less.
Nirvana waited in dreamland.

- - - -

By
eight that evening the fighting had stopped and an unconditional
surrender had been accepted. When the dust settled, the main chamber
had been transformed into a craggy landscape. What boxes that were
near the elevator at the time were brought up to the surface to be
shipped back to the states where it would be cataloged at a later
date.

As
an added precaution, a demolitions team was sent down and ordered to
set up around the main chamber and a few of the adjoining corridors,
set on a time delay. Plans had been made to make a more through
collapse of the base but when strange creatures began attacking,
killing, and wounding several soldiers very seriously, the order was
given to retreat. By
then all other personnel had been moved back to the base or to a
medical facility in the city.

At
a quarter to ten, when the desert night was fully dark, the old
British base turned Nazi holdout, blew up, and caved in. The shock
wave generated by the blast travelled underground all the way to
Cairo, making dishes rattle on tables and within cupboards all around
the city walls.

The
Americans found out later that several key players in the command
structure were missing from the POWs. Alerts were issued for one
Oberführer
Julius Schreck, and his officers as well as the lab workers. Of the
Italian officers, a Seniore Normand Mazón,
a.k.a. 'the Seniore' was also missing but presumed dead based on
reports of his incapacity to move when last sighted by eye witnesses.
Mr. Maxton working for the Thule society under German command,
presumed dead, and Dr. Marcoh, also presumed dead.

The exiled Earl Thomas
Asherton and his wife, Lady Rose Asherton, were apprehended as they
left the base ahead of the soldiers and placed under heavy guard as
soon as an astute solider noticed them. That soldier was offered a
promotion, and was subsequently declined as the man in question
wanted to continue to serve under Colonel Tompkins.

An American posed as the
buyer during the scheduled exchange and caught the seller red-handed
with valuable schematics for prototype American fighter planes. Upon
questioning the seller it was learned that the schematics were bought
from an American citizen disaffected with how the country was being
run and wanted to help the growing Nazi cause, and while the seller
had no name or address for this person, they were able to get a
description and learned that this man worked within the design team.
Communiqués were sent back home to proceed with capturing the
engineer, thus ending this part of military operations.

--To Be Continued--

So...this
was supposed
to be the last chapter...but it seems like 'A Little Light of Love'
isn't finished with me yet... I'm guessing that there should be
about 2-3 more chapters... -shrugs- you'll know as soon as I do XD.
At least there aren't any evil cliffhangers this chapter! XD

Since
the continuation of this story (for who knows how many chapters) was
unplanned...I'll be taking my time to make sure I get it right the
first
time. I don't want to repeat tricking myself into thinking I'm done
when I'm not. XD Please bear with me!

Review...?
- 19
- 20
- 21
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

A Little Light of Love