The Spider's Web (10/?)
Author: crazybeagle
Characters: Alphonse, Edward, Mustang, OC's
Genre: Suspense, Drama, H/C
Rating: T
Summary: Two weeks after the Promised Day, the largest organized crime family in Amestris kidnaps Alphonse, to punish the brothers for a double murder that they can't remember committing.
Disclaimer: But alas, not mine.
As it turned out, Al never did have to worry about not waking up that particular time. In fact, he felt like he'd barely closed his eyes at all before Marie was back in the cell, her arms full of a soaking wet bed sheet that she must have taken from one of the other cells or from the old prison stores, telling Ed to prop him upright. Apparently, she deemed it more important that they get the swelling in his arms down than it was to have him sleep, and Ed agreed.
She wasn't her usual nervous self, or flitting about the cell now-now that she had a definitive task to do, it seemed, she was focused, levelheaded.
"Hold him steady," she was saying to Edward, actually taking Ed's arms in her hands and wrapping them tightly around Al's stomach. "It may not hurt now," she continued, "but it will in a few minutes, and he may not be able to help struggling. A bad fall off the bed is the last thing he needs."
Al was too busy eyeing the sodden sheet in her arms with trepidation to be bemused at the fact that she was speaking as though he couldn't hear her.
His guess was, the second the swelling began to go down, he was going to remember acutely just how badly his arms were broken.
"Better this than no arms at all, right?" said Ed's voice in his ear, in an attempt at reassurance.
"Yeah," Al managed in reply.
But he nearly retched a few seconds after the sheet touched his skin. He felt Ed's arms tighten their hold around his middle as Marie twisted and maneuvered the sheet to twine its way up and down his arms. The sheer coldness of the thing pressed into his chest like a sheet of ice, and all at once, his arms seemed to come to life again, like exposed, crackling electrical wires had tightened themselves around every inch of his bones.
It wasn't until it was done with-his arms swathed in a wet gray mound of cloth that sat on his chest-that Al realized he'd been crying, or shaking. Ed was laying him back down on the cot. They'd managed to coax some water and more acetaminophen pills into him, but the soup Marie had brought was a lost cause. He was barely confident he could keep the water down right now.
He blinked his stinging eyes, doing his best to ignore the entire existence of his arms.
Well, so much for a brave front…
Marie's fingers lighted on his forehead. "No break in the fever," she said, handing Edward a rag. "With a poison engineered to replicate a believable illness, I'd expect there to be at least some fluctuation in his temperature, but…" she trailed off, with a bit of a helpless shrug, her eyes grim.
Ed swore under his breath at that. He swiped his thumb at a tear or two on Al's cheek, before laying the rag over his eyes. His hand slid around to the back of Al's neck and gave it a brief squeeze.
"Thanks," Al croaked.
"Yeah."
"You can try and rest now," Marie was saying. "But when you wake up, you've got to eat something."
"Okay."
"Rest wouldn't be a bad idea for you either, Edward. There might not be space on the cot for the two of you, but-"
Marie's words died away quite suddenly. They were replaced by one long, shaky inhalation as another sound echoed through the cell, and, from the sound of it, down the hallway outside, reverberating all-too-sharply off the walls.
It was the unmistakable clack-clack-clack of a woman's high-heeled shoes.
"Viv," Marie breathed.
Al felt Ed tense. "You haven't been to see her yet, have you?"
"No." The word was barely audible.
As the footsteps grew louder, Al tried to turn his head, and dislodge the washcloth-the last thing he wanted was to be rendered both immobile and blind around this viper of a woman-but Ed's hand pressed down over the washcloth, hard. He felt Ed's other arm reach across his stomach, in what he immediately knew to be a protective gesture, though his hand was balled into a fist and his whole arm was trembling. But not from fear, that much was apparent, to Al at least-but from anger. Heaven help this woman if she was fool enough to keep a wall of steel bars between Edward and herself.
"What do you want?" he heard Ed demand the moment the footsteps came to an abrupt halt. His tone was low, mutinous.
Somewhere off to the side, there was a rustling, as though Marie was rummaging for something.
"Checking on Maria's patient, of course." That was Vivian. Obviously. The odd part of it was, he'd have thought that such words would be accompanied by some sort of vindictive sarcasm, coming from a woman as sure of herself as Vivian Valera. But there was none. The words were spoken with cold precision. And hatred.
"I was going to come to you," Marie muttered. "We agreed-"
"We agreed you'd come when the job was done, Maria," Vivian cut in, impatiently. "Not hours and hours afterwards. I had urgent matters to attend to for Uncle, or I'd have come and seen to the whole affair myself…"
"Affair," Marie repeated, quietly. Incredulously. "And does it matter?" she shot at Vivian, her own voice rising now. "Just look at him."
There was a brief silence, and Al heard Vivian take a step or two closer to them before uttering a thoughtful "Hm."
"Well? Are you satisfied?" The question was bitter, subdued.
"No," Vivian said, slowly, as though she were speaking to a dull-witted, disobedient child. "Because, Maria, you were explicitly instructed to-"
"To hell with my instructions," Marie hissed.
There was a beat of silence before Vivian scoffed, and Al guessed that though Vivian was the one person in her family that Marie was actually willing to stand up to, it probably didn't happen very often.
"There's a plan, Maria," Vivian snapped. "Stop being a child."
But it seemed that the floodgates had been opened. "A child?" Marie repeated. Her voice shook-Al almost wished he could see her. "I'm not a child. He is."
"Maria," Vivian repeated, her own voice taut with an unspoken threat.
Then there was an odd sound-a stomp-stomp-stomp of purposeful feet crossing the cell floor, followed by the tinkling of shattered glass.
Vivian inhaled sharply, and it sounded as though she had taken a step back. Even Ed, who had said nothing during this whole exchange, made a small startled noise.
Wait, did…
Had she just thrown the syringe at Vivian through the bars?
"There's your proof," Marie practically spat.
Yes, it seemed she had.
There was a long silence. Then, another crunch of glass-Vivian must have stepped on some fragments of the syringe-followed by a sigh.
"You choose to be blind to all of the things that these children have done," Vivian said, coldly. "They ruined us."
"No, they ruined Uncle, and that's just your opinion, Viv," Marie was nearly shouting now. "Yes, they're prodigies. Nobody's denying that. But come now, do you honestly believe that all of the military's elite, not to mention the Flame Alchemist of all people, would have remained blind to the fact that their whole system was rotten to the core if these two hadn't been there? The Fuhrer-"
"Maria." Vivian's voice was deadly.
Another silence. All Al could hear was Marie, panting slightly.
"Maria, you're to come back with me and report to Uncle," Vivian snapped. "Now."
"No." Marie's voice was quiet.
"Excuse me?"
"I'm staying here," she repeated, her voice a bit shaky but louder.
Almost immediately, there was a crashing, jarring noise that set Al's teeth on edge-as if something, or somebody, had just collided with the wall of bars. He heard Marie cry out.
Al started and tried to turn his head again. Vivian must have pulled at her arm through the bars and slammed her bodily into them-or something equally unpleasant-but Ed pushed his hand down even harder over his eyes. The message was clear. Don't.
And then Al understood what Ed had been trying to do. He could feel that Ed was shaking all over with positive fury over what he was witnessing now-could feel the very same gut urge to get up and do something to stop this-but he realized why Ed was staying put, and keeping him still. It was to deflect Vivian's attention. For all she knew, Al was unconscious right now, and if that was the case, she had no reason to enter the cell, to come near him again. And he was grateful for it, but his stomach took a nosedive as Marie stifled a pained whimper.
"Perhaps I should remind you what's at stake for you here, Maria." Vivian's voice was a snarl now. Marie cried out again.
"If y-you hurt Lissie and A-anthony," Marie managed, haltingly, through gritted teeth, "I will kill you, Viv…."
Vivian barked a laugh. Short, loud, and harsh. Near manic. "Do it."
TBC-
Characters: Alphonse, Edward, Mustang, OC's
Genre: Suspense, Drama, H/C
Rating: T
Summary: Two weeks after the Promised Day, the largest organized crime family in Amestris kidnaps Alphonse, to punish the brothers for a double murder that they can't remember committing.
Disclaimer: But alas, not mine.
As it turned out, Al never did have to worry about not waking up that particular time. In fact, he felt like he'd barely closed his eyes at all before Marie was back in the cell, her arms full of a soaking wet bed sheet that she must have taken from one of the other cells or from the old prison stores, telling Ed to prop him upright. Apparently, she deemed it more important that they get the swelling in his arms down than it was to have him sleep, and Ed agreed.
She wasn't her usual nervous self, or flitting about the cell now-now that she had a definitive task to do, it seemed, she was focused, levelheaded.
"Hold him steady," she was saying to Edward, actually taking Ed's arms in her hands and wrapping them tightly around Al's stomach. "It may not hurt now," she continued, "but it will in a few minutes, and he may not be able to help struggling. A bad fall off the bed is the last thing he needs."
Al was too busy eyeing the sodden sheet in her arms with trepidation to be bemused at the fact that she was speaking as though he couldn't hear her.
His guess was, the second the swelling began to go down, he was going to remember acutely just how badly his arms were broken.
"Better this than no arms at all, right?" said Ed's voice in his ear, in an attempt at reassurance.
"Yeah," Al managed in reply.
But he nearly retched a few seconds after the sheet touched his skin. He felt Ed's arms tighten their hold around his middle as Marie twisted and maneuvered the sheet to twine its way up and down his arms. The sheer coldness of the thing pressed into his chest like a sheet of ice, and all at once, his arms seemed to come to life again, like exposed, crackling electrical wires had tightened themselves around every inch of his bones.
It wasn't until it was done with-his arms swathed in a wet gray mound of cloth that sat on his chest-that Al realized he'd been crying, or shaking. Ed was laying him back down on the cot. They'd managed to coax some water and more acetaminophen pills into him, but the soup Marie had brought was a lost cause. He was barely confident he could keep the water down right now.
He blinked his stinging eyes, doing his best to ignore the entire existence of his arms.
Well, so much for a brave front…
Marie's fingers lighted on his forehead. "No break in the fever," she said, handing Edward a rag. "With a poison engineered to replicate a believable illness, I'd expect there to be at least some fluctuation in his temperature, but…" she trailed off, with a bit of a helpless shrug, her eyes grim.
Ed swore under his breath at that. He swiped his thumb at a tear or two on Al's cheek, before laying the rag over his eyes. His hand slid around to the back of Al's neck and gave it a brief squeeze.
"Thanks," Al croaked.
"Yeah."
"You can try and rest now," Marie was saying. "But when you wake up, you've got to eat something."
"Okay."
"Rest wouldn't be a bad idea for you either, Edward. There might not be space on the cot for the two of you, but-"
Marie's words died away quite suddenly. They were replaced by one long, shaky inhalation as another sound echoed through the cell, and, from the sound of it, down the hallway outside, reverberating all-too-sharply off the walls.
It was the unmistakable clack-clack-clack of a woman's high-heeled shoes.
"Viv," Marie breathed.
Al felt Ed tense. "You haven't been to see her yet, have you?"
"No." The word was barely audible.
As the footsteps grew louder, Al tried to turn his head, and dislodge the washcloth-the last thing he wanted was to be rendered both immobile and blind around this viper of a woman-but Ed's hand pressed down over the washcloth, hard. He felt Ed's other arm reach across his stomach, in what he immediately knew to be a protective gesture, though his hand was balled into a fist and his whole arm was trembling. But not from fear, that much was apparent, to Al at least-but from anger. Heaven help this woman if she was fool enough to keep a wall of steel bars between Edward and herself.
"What do you want?" he heard Ed demand the moment the footsteps came to an abrupt halt. His tone was low, mutinous.
Somewhere off to the side, there was a rustling, as though Marie was rummaging for something.
"Checking on Maria's patient, of course." That was Vivian. Obviously. The odd part of it was, he'd have thought that such words would be accompanied by some sort of vindictive sarcasm, coming from a woman as sure of herself as Vivian Valera. But there was none. The words were spoken with cold precision. And hatred.
"I was going to come to you," Marie muttered. "We agreed-"
"We agreed you'd come when the job was done, Maria," Vivian cut in, impatiently. "Not hours and hours afterwards. I had urgent matters to attend to for Uncle, or I'd have come and seen to the whole affair myself…"
"Affair," Marie repeated, quietly. Incredulously. "And does it matter?" she shot at Vivian, her own voice rising now. "Just look at him."
There was a brief silence, and Al heard Vivian take a step or two closer to them before uttering a thoughtful "Hm."
"Well? Are you satisfied?" The question was bitter, subdued.
"No," Vivian said, slowly, as though she were speaking to a dull-witted, disobedient child. "Because, Maria, you were explicitly instructed to-"
"To hell with my instructions," Marie hissed.
There was a beat of silence before Vivian scoffed, and Al guessed that though Vivian was the one person in her family that Marie was actually willing to stand up to, it probably didn't happen very often.
"There's a plan, Maria," Vivian snapped. "Stop being a child."
But it seemed that the floodgates had been opened. "A child?" Marie repeated. Her voice shook-Al almost wished he could see her. "I'm not a child. He is."
"Maria," Vivian repeated, her own voice taut with an unspoken threat.
Then there was an odd sound-a stomp-stomp-stomp of purposeful feet crossing the cell floor, followed by the tinkling of shattered glass.
Vivian inhaled sharply, and it sounded as though she had taken a step back. Even Ed, who had said nothing during this whole exchange, made a small startled noise.
Wait, did…
Had she just thrown the syringe at Vivian through the bars?
"There's your proof," Marie practically spat.
Yes, it seemed she had.
There was a long silence. Then, another crunch of glass-Vivian must have stepped on some fragments of the syringe-followed by a sigh.
"You choose to be blind to all of the things that these children have done," Vivian said, coldly. "They ruined us."
"No, they ruined Uncle, and that's just your opinion, Viv," Marie was nearly shouting now. "Yes, they're prodigies. Nobody's denying that. But come now, do you honestly believe that all of the military's elite, not to mention the Flame Alchemist of all people, would have remained blind to the fact that their whole system was rotten to the core if these two hadn't been there? The Fuhrer-"
"Maria." Vivian's voice was deadly.
Another silence. All Al could hear was Marie, panting slightly.
"Maria, you're to come back with me and report to Uncle," Vivian snapped. "Now."
"No." Marie's voice was quiet.
"Excuse me?"
"I'm staying here," she repeated, her voice a bit shaky but louder.
Almost immediately, there was a crashing, jarring noise that set Al's teeth on edge-as if something, or somebody, had just collided with the wall of bars. He heard Marie cry out.
Al started and tried to turn his head again. Vivian must have pulled at her arm through the bars and slammed her bodily into them-or something equally unpleasant-but Ed pushed his hand down even harder over his eyes. The message was clear. Don't.
And then Al understood what Ed had been trying to do. He could feel that Ed was shaking all over with positive fury over what he was witnessing now-could feel the very same gut urge to get up and do something to stop this-but he realized why Ed was staying put, and keeping him still. It was to deflect Vivian's attention. For all she knew, Al was unconscious right now, and if that was the case, she had no reason to enter the cell, to come near him again. And he was grateful for it, but his stomach took a nosedive as Marie stifled a pained whimper.
"Perhaps I should remind you what's at stake for you here, Maria." Vivian's voice was a snarl now. Marie cried out again.
"If y-you hurt Lissie and A-anthony," Marie managed, haltingly, through gritted teeth, "I will kill you, Viv…."
Vivian barked a laugh. Short, loud, and harsh. Near manic. "Do it."
TBC-