Worlds Collide

A/M: Of Apples and Honey, glad you've been reading. It's a beast of a story, isn't it? I feel bad for Nicholas too, honestly. I didn't want to do this to him. Amethyst-eyed Koneko, I actually left you speechless? I'm cruel to my characters, I know. I've said for a while on both sites I post this on, it was going to get dark.

Chapter 38

Shocks and Beginnings

It felt strange, to be completely honest. Nicholas was somewhere between floating and feeling completely numb. Vaguely in his mind, he remembered his fathers’ words to him, what he had been going into surgery for. His dad had been really upset about something, something about how his arm was hurt. His papa had just kept rubbing over his right shoulder, holding his hand.

His dad hadn’t grabbed hold of his left, though, probably because it was hurting him so bad. It didn’t hurt now. Nothing hurt now.

Staying like this wouldn’t be so bad. He’d have to talk to his aunt about making this state permanent. He bet if everyone felt this good, there’d never be another war. His parents wouldn’t have to fight anymore.

He remembered his dad looking pretty gruesome, covered in blood, but he’d just been wet and in his papa’s fuhrer uniform coat the last time he saw him. It was way too big for him, too. It was really funny since he’d had on a kid’s hospital gown too, with little trains all over it.

That had been funny.

Except, the look on his face wasn’t. There was something about automail being painful, and he supposed his father knew better than anyone, but why did that matter? And what had that been about Aunt Winry setting him up with the very best?

Why did he need automail?

His arm. It had been damaged, swollen and purple in color midway up his forearm and all over his hand. Had they taken it?

He tried to look, but couldn’t move, couldn’t really see any part of his body. He tried to look again.

“He’s fighting the drugs,” a voice said. It was his auntie.

Why couldn’t he look? He just wanted to see. He wanted to see if his arm was there. He couldn’t feel it, but he couldn’t exactly not feel it either.

“Can you bring him out of it slowly?” That was his papa. He loved his voice, even though he didn’t think his own would ever be so low. And it was a little raspy like his dad’s, like he smoked cigarettes. Though it was funny that General Havoc had always smoked when he was younger and didn’t sound like it.

“He’s calming down. It has to be your voice. You both need to talk to him, then I’ll try bringing him around.”
That was right. He’d been upset about something, about… his arm. His left arm.

“I’m… I’m here, Nicholas.” Why did his dad sound like he was crying? The arm must have been gone. His dad would have been happy if they’d saved it.

“We’re both here.” He could feel the warmth of his aunt’s alchemy on him. He didn’t feel quite so sleepy, but he still felt like he was resting on a cloud. He felt aware of his dad’s automail hand wrapped around his own right, holding him like they were about to start an arm wrestle. One Nicholas would surely have lost in his current state. He felt another hand at his head, fingers going through his hair. They went through his coarse blond locks easily, so it had to be his papa. His dad’s hand always got caught.

He attempted to open his eyes. That really shouldn’t have been a struggle. Once he finally got them pried open, he wished he hadn’t. The florescent lights above him hurt.

“Nicholas?” his Aunti asked. “How do you feel?”

“Not so tired…” he lazily rolled his eyes to look at her. “But really, really good.”

“He’s still on the painkillers,” she said, as though she was explaining to his father’s the reason for his answer. He didn’t think there was a need to explain. He’d meant it when he said he felt good. Why shouldn’t he?

“Nicholas, do you have any idea what happened?” his dad asked.

“I went into surgery about my arm.” He turned his head to his left, now that he remembered. He saw his shoulder was still there, his upper arm too, but as he looked to his elbow, he saw that it just stopped, no elbow even, really. It looked like that joint was gone, too. His forearm, his hand, his fingers were all gone. “But it was only halfway to my elbow, the funny purple color.”

“The infection was further than that,” his papa said, moving his hand to Nicholas’s sweaty forehead. “And it was spreading fast.”

“And automail needs a joint or single bone to attach to,” his dad said. Nicholas didn’t like the tone of his dad’s voice. It was cold, harsh. It was the one he used when he was trying to pretend everything was okay. But it wasn’t; even in his drug-induced haze, Nicholas realized that.

********

Wrath all but collapsed against the shower wall in his tiny apartment. Jacob had thought he was a monster, he’d hated him, been disgusted by him. And those three words he’d asked him, looking at Wrath, blue eyes looking more like ice than the oceans he’d once thought they were.

”What are you?”

He was human. He had the beating heart, the soul, the body, but his instincts were and always would be something different. With his strength and his acrobatic body, Wrath would always be capable of seemingly superhuman feats, and his first reaction would be to do them.

Worst of all was Russell, who was currently unconscious on Wrath’s couch. He’d gotten so angry and Jacob, he’d tried to attack him. Much as Wrath had been hurt, he didn’t want his boyf… ex-boyfriend injured, and it seemed a terribly unfair fight against the thin, shorter man. It would have been as fair as Russell beating up his little brother.

In the act of defense of Jacob, Wrath had tried to simply stop Russell, unfortunately knocking him out. Why did the older man insist on defending him? Wrath certainly wasn’t a weakling, and if being with Edward in Germany hadn’t taught him to cope with insults, nothing would.

He didn’t cry as he leaned against the tiles, letting the heat—that knowing his plumbing, would end soon—penetrate his aching muscles and calm him. He’d been given a human body, but was he really human?

“Where the hell do you get off?” He heard an angry voice say before the curtain of his shower was unceremoniously pulled back, leaving him standing totally naked in front of Russell Tringham.

And Russell seemed to be staring.

“Not only do you have Ed’s arm and leg, but somehow, you managed to be part horse, too…” Russell said just loudly enough that Wrath could hear it over the pounding water.

Wrath turned off the water that was slowly growing colder. “Where do I get off?” he asked grabbing hold of a nearby towel and wrapping it around his waist. “How about knocking or announcing your presence before barging in on someone in the shower?” Strange, though, even as Wrath raised his voice, he didn’t feel embarrassed at what Russell had seen.

“How about just restraining someone instead of putting them in a sleeper hold?”

Wrath folded his arms across his chest. “I’m sorry, but I was furious you weren’t going to let me fight my own battle.”

“Fight?” Russell asked, throwing his arms up in the air. “That wasn’t fighting. That was all but agreeing with what the twerp said.”

Russell walked into the cool air of the single room of the apartment, Wrath following, making every dark hair on his chest stand on end.

“It isn’t any of your business if I did,” Wrath said, growing angry, not to mention wishing he was wearing just a bit more than a towel.

Russell was staring at him strangely. “What?”

“You shave your armpits, and legs. I’ve seen proof you’re not a woman, but—”

“One’s blond, one’s jet black. You figure it out.” Wrath stepped closer, watching as Russell, rather than backing off remained firmly planted in place, hands in his pockets. “And you’re changing the subject. What was your problem today? If I scared Jacob, it was his right to say so.”

“And if I want to defend the most amazing display of alchemy and pure animalism I’ve ever seen, then I will.”

Violet eyes narrowed. “You think I’m an animal?”

“I think what I saw was primal and raw.”

“Then why do you seem so excited by it?” Wrath said, backing Russell into the arm of the sofa.

“Because it was exciting, because it was powerful and incredible. Because fighting today, you looked like you could take on anything.” Russell looked up at Wrath smugly. “Little did I know you could be put in your place by some worthless little weasel.”

“He’s not a weasel,” Wrath said, shoving Russell down over the arm of the sofa and standing between the blond’s legs. “He’s sweet, kind, and—”

“Horribly afraid of what he doesn’t understand. He is the most pathetic thing I’ve ever seen, and you’re nearly as bad for picking him.”

Wrath grabbed Russell by the collar. “Watch what you say.”

Then, Wrath found himself struck in the jaw. “Get your hands off me. I need to find out where my brother is, and I can’t do that if you knock me out again.”

Before he knew it to stop himself, Wrath was punching Russell in the arm.

“Son of a bitch!”

“I didn’t knock you out.”

“No, but if you want to take out your anger at the little wuss you dated, do it on him, or at least yourself. I told you from the start it wasn’t any good dating someone you couldn’t be yourself with.”

“You want to hear me say that you were right? Tell me, Russell, unless I want to join in with Kain and Frank or Roy and Ed, how exactly am I going to find someone who knows all about me and is interested?”

“Don’t be such an idiot,” Russell said, knocking Wrath alongside his head. With that, Wrath once again grabbed Russell’s shirt collar and slammed him against the wall.

“Don’t call me an idiot!” The almost sickening thump as the blond’s body hit the plaster made Wrath’s body tense just a bit. He was inches from Russell’s face, looking into those gray-green eyes.

“Then stop acting like one,” Russell practically spat at him. Wrath was shocked at the amount of fight the older man had in him. If Wrath had done this to either of his previous lovers, he’d have seriously injured him. Russell not only seemed perfectly fine, but also prepared to take Wrath on.

At that thought, Russell kicked Wrath away with enough force to send him falling to the ground, the older man trying to pin him there. It wasn’t much of a struggle for Wrath, but just at the moment the former homunculus seemed certain to turn the tables, he found a hot mouth pressed against his own, and hands that had been holding his wrists now strongly holding the wet braids of his hair.

His own hands nearly covered the entirety of Russell’s head as he mashed the older man’s face and body to his own. This was no loving embrace, there were no tongues seeking entrance. It was a battle for dominance, as tongues intertwined and fought and massaged against one another. The smaller man’s hips grinding against Wrath’s nearly unclad ones, two quickly swelling erections rubbing against one another, pushing, poking, twitching beneath the fabric that separated them.

Wrath flipped Russell onto his back, switching positions, losing the towel as he did, the kiss never really breaking, the battle not yet ended as he ripped Russell’s shirt completely open and began working at the man’s pants. Why hadn’t he known this earlier? Why had he wasted time with the little mouse he’d been dating?

Wrath’s entire body felt warmer than it had even in the shower, sweat beading up all over his body. He pressed his weight down on the man below him, finding Russell finally ending the kiss, only to move to Wrath’s neck and bite him, drawing the skin into his mouth as he did. He was marking Wrath’s nearly flawless pale skin, and Wrath would be damned if he was going to let that go unpunished.

He pushed Russell’s mouth away and attached his own to the older man’s jugular, feeling the pulse racing beneath his lips and finally tasting the man he’d thought would forever remain part of his fantasies. When the phone rang, interrupting what was certain not to stop anywhere short of sex, both men had managed to bruise one another in more than one way, and neither looked to have the immediate energy to get up and answer it.

********

“Hello?” Wrath’s voice said on the other end of the line. He sounded just a bit winded.

“Wrath?” Fletcher asked. “Are you okay?”

“Fine.” Definitely winded.

“Is Russell there?”

“Um… yeah…”

Some brother Russell was, making out, or something like that, with Wrath while he had no idea if Fletcher was safe.

“Do you want to talk to him?” Wrath asked.

“No, tell him he’s a lousy brother doing whatever he’s doing with you while I could very well be injured. You’re the one I want to talk to. Nicholas was injured. We’re going to be transporting him to the hospital.”

“What happened to him?” There was genuine concern in Wrath’s voice, as naturally there would be. He’d always been close to Nicholas, probably more so than even Aideen.

“He’s lost his arm from chimera venom.”

“What?” Through the phone, Fletcher could swear he heard the sound of Wrath’s heart hitting his stomach. It certainly had been how he’d felt.

“I thought you might want to meet us at the hospital. They’re also taking Colonel Fuery.”

“What happened to him?”

“He got scratched pretty bad by one of the things he was fighting. He’ll be okay.”

“We’ll be right there.”

Fletcher hung up the phone, leaning against the glass wall of the phone booth and crying for the first time since he’d carried Nicholas to the clinic. He’d stayed strong for his student and his friends, but no one should have to go through what Nicholas was going to do. Watching the young girl sob into his arms, wracked with guilt, he had wanted to cry himself.

********

“All right,” Frank said, helping Kain slide off the stretcher and onto the seat in the fuhrer’s car. “You okay?”

“I think so,” Kain answered, starting to look enough like himself that Frank felt a bit relieved. He watched as Aideen numbly helped Fletcher return the stretcher to the clinic before climbing into the seat across from Kain and Frank. As she sat in the seat, she curled into the corner, away from everyone, pulling her legs up to her chest, looking at nothing in particular, staring off into the distance, through the metal of the car, one hand absent-mindedly rubbing her thumb over the tiny silver necklace she wore at all times.

There were a few cleared throats, some coughs, but for the largest part, the ride was filled only with painful silence as Breda drove, not seeming any more capable of saying anything than the rest of them.

The drive was short, for which Frank was grateful.

He saw Wrath waiting at the front door along with Russell, both of them looking like they’d been in a fight, not with one of the creatures, but Frank wasn’t going to comment. It had been a shitty day to say the least, and he wasn’t feeling up to ask awkward questions.

Together with the other men, he moved Kain into the hospital, military personnel stopping both Tringham brothers, apparently needing their help with some additional clean-up. Wrath would probably be called on soon, as a state alchemist, but at the moment, he needed to see Nicholas or at the very least try to visit him. Together with Wrath’s help, Frank and medical personnel got Kain into a bed with a private room.

“I’m going to stay down here just a bit longer,” Frank told Wrath. “Roy sent word with one of the nurses that they were waiting on you. Go ahead and take Aideen up with you.”

Frank scanned the room for a sign of the shorter dark head, but found none. Wrath looked out around the hall, still finding nothing.

“Frank,” Kain said, placing a hand on Frank’s arm, “you need to go find her.”

“Wrath,” Frank said, “go up to Nicholas. They’ll wonder why you’re not there. Don’t let Roy and Ed worry about Aideen unless its necessary. I’ll try to find her.”

Frank rubbed Kain’s left foot as he walked out of the room, walking down the hall, looking for any sign of the fire-eyed girl. He didn’t dare ask anyone for help, afraid that word would reach the already overtaxed parents upstairs.

As he passed by the bathroom, he heard noises somewhere between cries of frustration and sorrow. He stood in front of the door, debating on whether or not to go in, afraid that knocking would make the young teen aware he was there and possibly push her to run, but he certainly didn’t like the idea of barging in either. Instead, he opened the door just a crack, just enough that he could manage to charge in if she did try to run, but close enough that he wouldn’t get screamed at.

“Aideen?” there was no answer to the question, only sobs. “Aideen, can I come in?”

“Uh-huh,” was all the answer he got. He saw her, arms curled over her head, elbows resting on the porcelain sink, her body shaking, either from crying or mere frustration, he wasn’t sure. Then he saw a pair of scissors, and the ponytail of her hair laying next to her.

“Aideen, why did you do this?” Frank walked completely into the bathroom, standing in front of the teenager, pulling her into his embrace. “Aideen, aside from the obvious, are you okay?”

There was a noise of anger, the same feeling they’d all had, unable to do anything to help her brother. “Do you know why I went to the salon in the first place?” she asked. Frank said nothing, only rubbed circles on her back. “I had split ends. I was being vain because it wouldn’t lay perfectly. It’s my fault that Nicholas went off to find me. I was safe and didn’t find a way to let him know. I…” There was another noise of her aggravation. “He followed after me when those things were chasing me. They didn’t want him in the first place, they wanted me, and it’s my fault that he got hurt.”

Frank glaced over at the tied off hair that had once been attached to the girl’s head, then rubbed a hand over the somewhat sharp tips of the short hair.

“Wondering what might have happened and blaming yourself won’t get you anywhere. Your brother wanted to make sure you were safe. You’d have done the same for him.”

“The hair,” she said. Frank waited for the shock, the realization that half her hair was now gone. “They had someone downstairs cutting to make wigs for patients. See if they can use it.”

Frank hadn’t imagined that kind of calm from the girl, but there were a lot of things he’d had to teach himself with Aideen, the biggest being to expect what isn’t expected.

********

Roy cursed each and every phone call that took him away from his son. There wasn’t probably a member of parliament he hadn’t growled at, a soldier he hadn’t verbally reamed. Even Havoc and Breda had met his full fury today, and as a parent, Havoc could understand, and as a friend Breda forgave him. He couldn’t help it. He had forgone being brave and strong. He was flat-out pissed off.

Though he hated being fuhrer, Roy was grateful that he had the distraction it provided. Ed was wallowing in his grief, but Roy was angry, and without the diversion of trying to prove he was still leading this country, he may very well have taken everything out on his own family. He was mad with himself for not going out into the field and protecting his children, and that took forefront, but after his self-loathing, Roy was fuming at Ed and Al, two adults who had been out in that part of Central, but had failed the children.

Then there was Aideen, and the almost seething guilt associated with her at the moment. By all rights, she should have stayed in the salon, should have remained there after she’d fortified it. Then, there was the fact that she ran off, leaving no sign of where she was going. Finally, the fact that she had saved all of Central from the monsters who had been attacking it and hadn’t done it sooner.

That anger at his own child made Roy sick; he shouldn’t feel that way, and he knew it. It left a feeling of something eating away at his stomach.

Once again he walked into Nicholas’s hospital room, finding Ed exactly where and how he’d left him, right hand holding Nicholas’s, his left rubbing over the sleeping teen’s arm and shoulder. Roy took a seat beside him, looking as the set of tired eyes of lusterless gold gazing at him. He wrapped an arm around Ed, feeling the blond hair against his cheek as their heads met.

“No patch?” Ed asked.

“I’m done with it.” If his husband and soon his son could walk around without something covering their injuries, he wouldn’t cover his own.

“Is he… okay?” a tiny voice said from the door.

Both parents turned, looking back at their daughter. She’d been kept out of the room until now, staying away even when Wrath had visited.

“Aideen, what have you done to your hair?” Ed said.

“Donated it. I don’t need to have it that long.” She walked into the room, standing at the foot of Nicholas’s bed. “How is he?”

“Tired.” Roy looked to see Nicholas answering. He squinted a bit looking at Aideen. “Had to make this about yourself, didn’t you? You had to chop off your hair because they did my arm.”

“Nicholas,” Aideen said, sounding shocked.

“It’s called dark humor. Get used to it.” Aideen moved to his left side, looking at the remaining part of the arm.

“Does it hurt?”

“Not right now. Probably will after the drugs wear off.”

Roy watched on in amazement as the twins carried on a conversation, sounding far more casual than he felt, than he knew either one felt. It wasn’t denial; it was comfort.

“So,” Nicholas said, pulling his hand from Ed to shift on the bed, leaving room for Aideen, “what the heck did you do back there? That was awesome.”

“The first thing that came to mind. Changed the air into something denser, used a mild explosion to force the chimeras back.”

“Wrath said he heard you yelling to stay away from me all the way in the center of town.”

“Really?” she asked, crawling into the hospital bed beside him, an act so familiar, one they’d done anytime something was wrong since they were toddlers.

“Yeah.”

“You know, if you do get automail, you could try to incorporate it into your body with the stuff Wrath has been teaching you. It could really be a part of you.”

“What do you mean if I get automail. We’ve got Aunt Winry, and I’m going to guilt her into giving me better automail than even Dad’s.”

As they sat in the hospital chairs, Roy pulled Ed closer to his side, listening to the twins talk, a sign that maybe things would be okay.