Fic Update - Sorrow's Dark Array Chapter two
Sorrow’s Dark Array
Author - Cornerofmadness
Disclaimer - not mine, all characters belong to Hiromu Arakawa et al, Square Enix and funimition.
Pairing - Roy/Riza, Ed/Win (eventually) Winry/OC, mentions of Maes/Gracia and Al/OC
Rating - will vary from chapter to chapter, mostly Pg-13 but will eventually contain well marked adult chapters.
Time Line - anime based, spoilers all the way through the anime and the movie and does have strong manga elements such as Armstrong’s older sister and the land of Xing
Summary - As Roy and Riza prepare for their wedding, while dodging assassins, Ed and Al try to find their way back home.
Author’s Note #1- This was written after much prodding by evil_little_dog as a sequel to the source of sorrow and is now her holiday gift even if she has beta’ed part of it. So thanks to her and lyricnonsense for the beta. You do not have to read the first story to understand this. You’ll quickly pick up that Riza has retired from the military to be Roy’s wife and bodyguard. Olivia Armstrong is now president and she’s assigned Roy as the ambassador to Ishbal; oh and that Roy was severely injured in the destruction of the Gate, requiring some of Winry’s automail.
Author's Note #2 - This is a longer work and like real relationships, the ones listed in the pairings, take time to mend and come together. They have to work at it (for example Winry's relations). Hope you enjoy the ride.
Chapter One
“Days of absence, sad and dreary, Clothed in sorrow's dark array, Days of absence, I am weary; She I love is far away.” - Shakespeare
Where we love is home,
Home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.
~Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr., Homesick in Heaven
Chapter Two
“Al, you need to eat.” Ed shoved a tray of soup with thick bread on the table in front of his brother. Was this how he had looked to others when he was searching for a way to restore Al to his own body? Like a man possessed? Ziata and Gracia had been in the ground for three weeks now and Al almost never left their library unless it was to go back to the Carnegie library to exchange books. His clothes slipped around his body as he turned to look at Ed. Damn, Al’s face was so gaunt. His sandy hair hung unbound and unwashed.
“Look at this.” Al tapped the tome. Mythology? What did Ed have to do to convince his brother there were no answers there?
“Al, those stories are just old religions no one believes in any more,” Ed said wearily. He knew that Al’s new obsession would lead nowhere. As much as Ed wanted to see home again, to hear Winry yelling about his automail and giving him those subtle looks he had only just begun to fully understand, Ed knew this wasn’t the way.
“I’ll eat if you read about Janus,” Al said, his eyes hard.
“All right,” Ed raised his hands, giving up the battle if he could just get his brother to eat something. As Al slowly supped his soup, Ed stared at the two-faced man inked onto the page. Janus, the god of doorways and gates, beginnings and endings. Ed read about the god’s history and the temples dedicated to him, most of which were in ruin now. How could Al believe this? This was a god even the people of this world hadn’t believed in, in centuries. “Al…this thing, he wasn’t ever real.”
Al’s eyes slotted. “I don’t believe that Janus is a god, Ed. Look at the coins, there’s writing on them and symbols.” Al gave his brother a knowing look. “I think there could be a key to something there, which is appropriate since the key is his symbol.”
Ed peered more closely at the coins in the pictures, thinking his brother was desperately grasping at straws but was willing to let him. “Al, most of what remains of Janus is back in Italy…you know what’s happening there.”
Al’s face blanched. “I know.”
Before Ed could comment further, there was a knock on the door. “Finish eating.” Ed stabbed a metal finger at his brother then limped to open the door. He wasn’t very surprised to see Hughes standing there, looking and smelling a lot like Al. Ed waved the older man in and let him trail him back to the library. Ed didn’t know what to say to Hughes. He was no good with words like that and Al, who usually covered for him, wasn’t in any condition to do it. What did one say to a man who lost his wife and unborn child? “Want something to eat, Hughes?”
Hughes shook his head and displaced enough books to sit down on the couch. “Can’t eat.”
“Al’s just eating and we’re doing some research,” Ed said, trying to fill the silence. He wasn’t good at it. He liked silences really but right now, with so much death, with people he loved drowning around him in despair, Ed kept flinging out verbal life preservers out of desperation.
“You’re looking for a way to go back home,” Hughes said, his tone flat.
Ed exchanged glances with his brother. “There’s really no way back,” he hedged, dreading what was coming.
Hughes shook his head. “Don’t lie to a cop, Edward. We see right through it. You wouldn’t waste time if there wasn’t a way. Take me with you.”
Ed heard Al stiffening behind him, dishes clattering. That was the one thing they should not do. “It could take years.”
“I don’t care.” Hughes dragged a hand through his oily hair. “I have nothing left here.”
Ed glanced back at Al again then they both nodded. Ed had no intentions of it. This was Hughes’ world. He could only imagine what would happen if he took this Hughes to a world where his counterpart was dead but his wife and child weren’t. Still, for now, he’d let the poor man have solace in thinking that they would do it.
X X X
The verdant expanse rolled to the glassy lake. Roy loved it here, the sun bright on his naked, tanned skin. How had he ever lived anywhere else? How had the rigors of duty and desire for power ruled him so long? All he needed was this beautiful bucolic homestead of theirs and this lovely creature always at his side. He leaned over and kissed her sun-warmed shoulder. Riza looked up at him with so much love in her eyes.
“Roy,” she said his name softly.
Roy tried to answer but couldn’t. He heard her calling again and he felt something sucking at his bones, a painful something that he feared. He squeezed his eyes shut, wanting it to go away. Finally, he opened his eyes again he could barely focus on Riza’s pretty face. The sweet smells of grass and summer flowers had been replaced by something sour, like rot. It made his stomach ache. “Why did we leave the lake, Riza?”
“Lake?” The look of confusion on her face frightened him.
“We were happy, making love under the clouds.” Roy fumbled for her hands. “This isn’t my bedroom. Why am I here, Riza?”
Riza put a hand on his sweating head. “Shhh, Roy, it’s all right. You were mumbling. That’s why I woke you up. Shut your eyes, love. Rest.”
Roy thought that sounded good. When he shut his eyes, his world would be right again.
Riza stumbled to her feet and went outside the hospital room. Winry and her grandmother sat with Havoc in the waiting area. Dev, still scraped and bruised, his arm totally removed at this point, sat next to his girlfriend, holding Winry’s hand with his remaining one. Aris, who had been out of the building at the time of the explosion, was at the nurses’ station on the phone. She wondered if he was still trying to arrange for a small altar to be set up in the corner of Roy’s room. Aris knew his fellow ambassador didn’t believe in any god but Riza knew this was his way of being helpful.
She didn’t know how she got to the cluster of chairs in the alcove facing the nurses’ station. Riza sat down hard, holding a hand over her mouth lest she start shrieking. Finally, their lives were normal. They were going to get married and now, instead, she would be burying Roy in his dress uniform. Riza knew death when she saw it. “He’s delirious,” she whispered to no one in particular.
“It’s the fever,” Winry said as Havoc went over and gave Riza’s shoulder a squeeze.
“The infection is getting worse,” Riza said, wanting Winry and Pinako to tell her she was wrong.
“Is there anything we can do?” Dev asked.
She shook her head. “No, thank you, but no. I’m not even sure who should visit. I don’t want to turn anyone away but I’m not sure Roy would want anyone to see him like this.” Riza knew Roy’s vanity would be crushed to have people seeing him this weak, no matter who they were.
“They won’t let many in,” Pinako said. “For his own sake and so the infection doesn’t spread to anyone else.”
Riza brushed Havoc’s fingers, grateful for his support. “I hate feeling helpless.”
“We all do,” Aris said, coming over to her. “I know what we have to offer is little enough but I think some of our herbs and ceremonies might at least bring Roy some relief from the fever. I’ve spoke to the doctor and he has no objections to us trying. Do you?”
“No, if you can let him rest easy, I would be grateful,” Riza told the priest.
Aris nodded and waved at Dev. The battered boy gave Winry a kiss then followed his mentor out.
Riza sighed, hating what she was going to do next but she had to do it. “Havoc, do you mind if I speak with Pinako and Winry alone?”
He shook his head. “Nah, I could use a smoke and Armstrong is expecting me shortly. I’ll let you know what progress we’re making on tracking down whoever did this.”
Riza summoned up a weak smile. “Thank you, Jean.”
“We need to change the dressing on Roy’s leg anyhow,” Winry said.
All three women went into the hospital room but, before Winry and Pinako could gown up to work on Roy’s leg, Riza pulled them close to the window so they could talk quietly. “He’s getting worse,” Riza said, her throat so tight the words hurt coming out.
Winry looked back at him. “The leg is getting better.”
“He’s getting worse,” Riza insisted, trembling. “Roy barely knows me when he wakes up. He doesn’t know where he is.” She took a deep breath. “Roy almost never comes to now at all. I know he’s failing. I just want to know, what are his chances?”
“I’m sure the doctor is right,” Winry said, struggling to keep her expression bright and positive. “There’s every reason to be hopeful.”
Riza turned from her to face Pinako. She knew the older woman had seen death too many times, that she might be more realistic than Winry would allow herself to be. “I know you both use narcotics to kill the pain after automail surgeries. I mean, all your patients can’t be like Ed and Roy, too stubborn to take it,” she said and Pinako nodded. “Can you get some for me?”
“Why?” Winry broke in before her grandmother could answer. “The doctor could give Roy something, if you want him to.”
“That’s not why she wants them,” Pinako said softly.
Winry’s face squinched as she thought about that then her mouth dropped. She grabbed Riza’s wrist. “No! Riza, what are you thinking? Are you asking us for an overdose?” Reading Riza’s face, Winry’s grip tightened. “You’re not thinking straight!”
Riza pulled free and whipped the girl around so she could see Roy’s bed. “Look at him, Winry. He’s suffering horribly. Roy is in so much pain that he cries in his sleep. The infection is killing him from the inside. If he has no chance of recovering, then I want him to go quietly, peacefully. Those drugs could do that for him.”
“I won’t help you kill him,” Winry said, yanking away from the older woman.
“I’ll give them to you.” Pinako’s face set with grim determination.
Winry turned on her grandmother. “Granny!”
Pinako held up a strong, wrinkled hand. “But only if there’s no hope. Right now, the infection is still contained and he’s fighting. Yes, he’s in pain but he’s fighting. If it spreads to his brain or his intestines go gangrenous then I’ll give you the medicine because there’ll be nothing we can do.”
Riza nodded. “Thank you.” She dashed tears from her eyes. “Do you think he’ll make it?”
“He’s as strong a man as I’ve met over many long years. I think his chances are good. He just needs us to be strong, too.” Pinako rested a hand on Riza’s arm.
“I’m trying.” Riza tossed her hair back. “It’s not a matter of strength. I just won’t see him suffer any more. Roy’s been hurt so much and, if this is the end, I will see him off to a place where he won’t hurt any more.”
Winry pressed a hand to Riza’s shoulder then turned back to pull on her pale blue gown and rubber gloves. Pinako did likewise. Riza watched them work as a team. The older woman deftly cut away the bandages from around Roy’s truncated leg. She knew Roy was still in danger of losing more of his leg. There was an infection around the docking port, deep but not yet at bone. If it reached there, more of his leg would have to come off, above the knee, which Winry told her would mean relearning how to use it since one more joint would be involved. Providing, of course, Roy survived the sepsis first.
Riza watched as Pinako drew iodine-imbued gauze strips from inside Roy’s leg. They had explained it to her. There was an abscess and necrotic tissue inside the ragged red hole and dead tissue would be drawn out, stuck to the gauze, without needing surgery. Riza had to admit, less gauze went in every time, a sure sign that at least his leg was mending. Winry, her gloves clean of the infection, pushed fresh gauze in. It was morbidly fascinating. Riza jumped when someone knocked as Winry was bandaging Roy back up. Riza went to peek out the door, surprised to see Gracia there. “Gracia?”
“I won’t stay long. I just wanted to ask the doctor if I could put this in Roy’s room. He said it should be okay if we keep it quiet.” Gracia hefted a portable phonograph. Riza recognized it as one of Fuery’s gadgets. “I know Roy likes symphonic music. Maes used to tease him about it. I thought it might be comforting for him to hear some. I left the records in the car until I was sure you thought it was a good idea.”
Riza took the heavy equipment. “I think it’s a perfect idea. I’ll help you go get the records. Thank you so much, Gracia.”
The green-eyed woman smiled. “My pleasure.”
“I’ll set it up for you, Riza,” Winry said, peeling off her gloves and surgical gown.
Riza thanked her, trying not to cry out of sheer gratitude for the good people in her life.
X X X
Flopping down on the bed, Winry locked an arm around Dev. He still had a look on his face that suggested he wasn’t quite sure how he had been taken away from his work by a force stronger and more demanding than a sandstorm. However, he looked quite happy about it. She knew Dev was still sore and, of course, even more of her automail had been blown to bits, leaving him with a stump. That’s why she had made sure to be on top after she had corralled him in his room the moment Aris left the Ishbalans’ two bedroom apartment. Watching Riza’s agony, it struck home just how close Winry had come to losing yet another man in her life and she wanted to let Dev know how she felt about him. Only, she wasn’t really sure what that was. She cared certainly and deeply. She found him sexy. But did she love him the way Riza loved Roy? Would losing Dev nearly kill her, too? “You okay?” she asked him.
Dev wiped a sweat-slicked lock of dark hair out of his red eyes. “I was about to ask you the same. You seemed a little…intense this time.”
She brushed a kiss over his lips. “Thinking about how badly Roy’s doing and how it’s hurting Riza.”
“Is he going to die?” Dev slipped and arm around her as if this was normal every day pillow talk. Winry wondered if it was for the hunted and wounded Ishbalans.
“He might. Riza…she doesn’t want his death to drag out,” Winry said, unsure if she should mention it to anyone.
Dev nodded. “I can understand that. Death should have dignity of some sort…and as often as I’ve wished death on him, these past months, getting to know him, working with him, I feel guilty about that.”
“I’m sure he’d understand.” Winry traced the rippled skin above Dev’s docking port. The tanned flesh was marred by white, melted-candle appearing expanse of burn scars. “You may have set a new record for destroying automail. At least Ed and Roy learned to use theirs before they got it blown off.”
Dev made a face at her, looking at his stump. “And now I have to go through the pain of you putting it back on. Not that it does anything. That hand just lies there spazzing about if I can make it move at all.”
Winry laughed softly. “It takes a few years to get it right. We warned you about that…and about the pain.”
“I know. I just thought that if that bas….Mustang could do it in a year and Edward, too, then I should at least be able to move a finger or something in a few months,” Dev said and Winry could hear the deep disappointment. “Then again, if I were the Fullmetal Alchemist, I’d probably have been able to contain the bomb or at least done something useful.”
Winry winced, hearing the self-recrimination in Dev’s tone. Maybe they all had made too big a deal out of Dev’s similarities to Edward in their personalities. He seemed to have taken it deeper to heart than she knew, setting up Edward as an invisible rival and someone he needed to outdo at all times. “No one could have stopped that bomb,” she said, not really sure of that. She remembered the stories Roy told her about the Crimson Alchemist. “And believe me, neither Edward nor Roy went waltzing on their automail minutes after getting it. It’s very hard to learn to use it. You’ll do fine. I’ll have another arm for you soon,” she promised then frowned. “Were your friends giving you a hard time about losing your arm or not being able to use it right?” Winry remembered the angry look on his face earlier in the day when he had been with some of the young Ishbalans who had moved into Central.
Dev shook his head, squirming on the sweat-soaked sheets so he wouldn’t have to meet her eyes. “No, they were…” His fists balled up in the sheet. “They were harassing me about having an Amestrian girlfriend. They wanted to know if I was too good for Ishbalans now.”
Winry stroked his shoulder, feeling him move away from her touch. “That’s cruel. It shouldn’t matter who you love,” she said but she knew it did. There had been something between them as of late and now she knew what it was. He was leaving her, too. Maybe Dev didn’t know it yet but he was. Just like her parents, like Mr. Hughes, like Ed and Al, soon Dev, so proud of his Ishbalan heritage, would drift away like fog with barely a trace that he was there.
“I know,” he muttered, rolling onto his back. “You were the first person to ever make me think someone could find me sexy.” Dev gestured to his lost arm and the expanse of twisted, melted candle flesh that rose up over his slender hip, licking its way to his collarbone. She didn’t know how the poor boy had survived such a hideous wound as a child. “I don’t care that you’re not Ishbalan. What I care about is you.”
While Winry didn’t doubt that, she was even more certain that he did care about her lineage and always had. Maybe she was only with Dev because of those familiar Ed-like traits. Maybe they were both looking for something in each other that almost fit the mold but not quite. Still, Dev was here now. Ed was gone where Winry could never follow. What was happening to Roy had proven once again how little time they all had and how unpredictable life was. He might leave her but for now she would hold Dev tight. She kissed his chest, her mouth rolling over the rippled flesh where a nipple should have been. “You are sexy and I care about you.” Winry wanted to add ‘when you go, now at least you’ll know you can be desirable just as you are,’ but she kept her own counsel, letting him take her in his arms - or what was left of the one - and hold her. Maybe this was something they both needed.
onto Chapter Three
Author - Cornerofmadness
Disclaimer - not mine, all characters belong to Hiromu Arakawa et al, Square Enix and funimition.
Pairing - Roy/Riza, Ed/Win (eventually) Winry/OC, mentions of Maes/Gracia and Al/OC
Rating - will vary from chapter to chapter, mostly Pg-13 but will eventually contain well marked adult chapters.
Time Line - anime based, spoilers all the way through the anime and the movie and does have strong manga elements such as Armstrong’s older sister and the land of Xing
Summary - As Roy and Riza prepare for their wedding, while dodging assassins, Ed and Al try to find their way back home.
Author’s Note #1- This was written after much prodding by evil_little_dog as a sequel to the source of sorrow and is now her holiday gift even if she has beta’ed part of it. So thanks to her and lyricnonsense for the beta. You do not have to read the first story to understand this. You’ll quickly pick up that Riza has retired from the military to be Roy’s wife and bodyguard. Olivia Armstrong is now president and she’s assigned Roy as the ambassador to Ishbal; oh and that Roy was severely injured in the destruction of the Gate, requiring some of Winry’s automail.
Author's Note #2 - This is a longer work and like real relationships, the ones listed in the pairings, take time to mend and come together. They have to work at it (for example Winry's relations). Hope you enjoy the ride.
Chapter One
“Days of absence, sad and dreary, Clothed in sorrow's dark array, Days of absence, I am weary; She I love is far away.” - Shakespeare
Where we love is home,
Home that our feet may leave, but not our hearts.
~Oliver Wendell Holmes, Sr., Homesick in Heaven
Chapter Two
“Al, you need to eat.” Ed shoved a tray of soup with thick bread on the table in front of his brother. Was this how he had looked to others when he was searching for a way to restore Al to his own body? Like a man possessed? Ziata and Gracia had been in the ground for three weeks now and Al almost never left their library unless it was to go back to the Carnegie library to exchange books. His clothes slipped around his body as he turned to look at Ed. Damn, Al’s face was so gaunt. His sandy hair hung unbound and unwashed.
“Look at this.” Al tapped the tome. Mythology? What did Ed have to do to convince his brother there were no answers there?
“Al, those stories are just old religions no one believes in any more,” Ed said wearily. He knew that Al’s new obsession would lead nowhere. As much as Ed wanted to see home again, to hear Winry yelling about his automail and giving him those subtle looks he had only just begun to fully understand, Ed knew this wasn’t the way.
“I’ll eat if you read about Janus,” Al said, his eyes hard.
“All right,” Ed raised his hands, giving up the battle if he could just get his brother to eat something. As Al slowly supped his soup, Ed stared at the two-faced man inked onto the page. Janus, the god of doorways and gates, beginnings and endings. Ed read about the god’s history and the temples dedicated to him, most of which were in ruin now. How could Al believe this? This was a god even the people of this world hadn’t believed in, in centuries. “Al…this thing, he wasn’t ever real.”
Al’s eyes slotted. “I don’t believe that Janus is a god, Ed. Look at the coins, there’s writing on them and symbols.” Al gave his brother a knowing look. “I think there could be a key to something there, which is appropriate since the key is his symbol.”
Ed peered more closely at the coins in the pictures, thinking his brother was desperately grasping at straws but was willing to let him. “Al, most of what remains of Janus is back in Italy…you know what’s happening there.”
Al’s face blanched. “I know.”
Before Ed could comment further, there was a knock on the door. “Finish eating.” Ed stabbed a metal finger at his brother then limped to open the door. He wasn’t very surprised to see Hughes standing there, looking and smelling a lot like Al. Ed waved the older man in and let him trail him back to the library. Ed didn’t know what to say to Hughes. He was no good with words like that and Al, who usually covered for him, wasn’t in any condition to do it. What did one say to a man who lost his wife and unborn child? “Want something to eat, Hughes?”
Hughes shook his head and displaced enough books to sit down on the couch. “Can’t eat.”
“Al’s just eating and we’re doing some research,” Ed said, trying to fill the silence. He wasn’t good at it. He liked silences really but right now, with so much death, with people he loved drowning around him in despair, Ed kept flinging out verbal life preservers out of desperation.
“You’re looking for a way to go back home,” Hughes said, his tone flat.
Ed exchanged glances with his brother. “There’s really no way back,” he hedged, dreading what was coming.
Hughes shook his head. “Don’t lie to a cop, Edward. We see right through it. You wouldn’t waste time if there wasn’t a way. Take me with you.”
Ed heard Al stiffening behind him, dishes clattering. That was the one thing they should not do. “It could take years.”
“I don’t care.” Hughes dragged a hand through his oily hair. “I have nothing left here.”
Ed glanced back at Al again then they both nodded. Ed had no intentions of it. This was Hughes’ world. He could only imagine what would happen if he took this Hughes to a world where his counterpart was dead but his wife and child weren’t. Still, for now, he’d let the poor man have solace in thinking that they would do it.
X X X
The verdant expanse rolled to the glassy lake. Roy loved it here, the sun bright on his naked, tanned skin. How had he ever lived anywhere else? How had the rigors of duty and desire for power ruled him so long? All he needed was this beautiful bucolic homestead of theirs and this lovely creature always at his side. He leaned over and kissed her sun-warmed shoulder. Riza looked up at him with so much love in her eyes.
“Roy,” she said his name softly.
Roy tried to answer but couldn’t. He heard her calling again and he felt something sucking at his bones, a painful something that he feared. He squeezed his eyes shut, wanting it to go away. Finally, he opened his eyes again he could barely focus on Riza’s pretty face. The sweet smells of grass and summer flowers had been replaced by something sour, like rot. It made his stomach ache. “Why did we leave the lake, Riza?”
“Lake?” The look of confusion on her face frightened him.
“We were happy, making love under the clouds.” Roy fumbled for her hands. “This isn’t my bedroom. Why am I here, Riza?”
Riza put a hand on his sweating head. “Shhh, Roy, it’s all right. You were mumbling. That’s why I woke you up. Shut your eyes, love. Rest.”
Roy thought that sounded good. When he shut his eyes, his world would be right again.
Riza stumbled to her feet and went outside the hospital room. Winry and her grandmother sat with Havoc in the waiting area. Dev, still scraped and bruised, his arm totally removed at this point, sat next to his girlfriend, holding Winry’s hand with his remaining one. Aris, who had been out of the building at the time of the explosion, was at the nurses’ station on the phone. She wondered if he was still trying to arrange for a small altar to be set up in the corner of Roy’s room. Aris knew his fellow ambassador didn’t believe in any god but Riza knew this was his way of being helpful.
She didn’t know how she got to the cluster of chairs in the alcove facing the nurses’ station. Riza sat down hard, holding a hand over her mouth lest she start shrieking. Finally, their lives were normal. They were going to get married and now, instead, she would be burying Roy in his dress uniform. Riza knew death when she saw it. “He’s delirious,” she whispered to no one in particular.
“It’s the fever,” Winry said as Havoc went over and gave Riza’s shoulder a squeeze.
“The infection is getting worse,” Riza said, wanting Winry and Pinako to tell her she was wrong.
“Is there anything we can do?” Dev asked.
She shook her head. “No, thank you, but no. I’m not even sure who should visit. I don’t want to turn anyone away but I’m not sure Roy would want anyone to see him like this.” Riza knew Roy’s vanity would be crushed to have people seeing him this weak, no matter who they were.
“They won’t let many in,” Pinako said. “For his own sake and so the infection doesn’t spread to anyone else.”
Riza brushed Havoc’s fingers, grateful for his support. “I hate feeling helpless.”
“We all do,” Aris said, coming over to her. “I know what we have to offer is little enough but I think some of our herbs and ceremonies might at least bring Roy some relief from the fever. I’ve spoke to the doctor and he has no objections to us trying. Do you?”
“No, if you can let him rest easy, I would be grateful,” Riza told the priest.
Aris nodded and waved at Dev. The battered boy gave Winry a kiss then followed his mentor out.
Riza sighed, hating what she was going to do next but she had to do it. “Havoc, do you mind if I speak with Pinako and Winry alone?”
He shook his head. “Nah, I could use a smoke and Armstrong is expecting me shortly. I’ll let you know what progress we’re making on tracking down whoever did this.”
Riza summoned up a weak smile. “Thank you, Jean.”
“We need to change the dressing on Roy’s leg anyhow,” Winry said.
All three women went into the hospital room but, before Winry and Pinako could gown up to work on Roy’s leg, Riza pulled them close to the window so they could talk quietly. “He’s getting worse,” Riza said, her throat so tight the words hurt coming out.
Winry looked back at him. “The leg is getting better.”
“He’s getting worse,” Riza insisted, trembling. “Roy barely knows me when he wakes up. He doesn’t know where he is.” She took a deep breath. “Roy almost never comes to now at all. I know he’s failing. I just want to know, what are his chances?”
“I’m sure the doctor is right,” Winry said, struggling to keep her expression bright and positive. “There’s every reason to be hopeful.”
Riza turned from her to face Pinako. She knew the older woman had seen death too many times, that she might be more realistic than Winry would allow herself to be. “I know you both use narcotics to kill the pain after automail surgeries. I mean, all your patients can’t be like Ed and Roy, too stubborn to take it,” she said and Pinako nodded. “Can you get some for me?”
“Why?” Winry broke in before her grandmother could answer. “The doctor could give Roy something, if you want him to.”
“That’s not why she wants them,” Pinako said softly.
Winry’s face squinched as she thought about that then her mouth dropped. She grabbed Riza’s wrist. “No! Riza, what are you thinking? Are you asking us for an overdose?” Reading Riza’s face, Winry’s grip tightened. “You’re not thinking straight!”
Riza pulled free and whipped the girl around so she could see Roy’s bed. “Look at him, Winry. He’s suffering horribly. Roy is in so much pain that he cries in his sleep. The infection is killing him from the inside. If he has no chance of recovering, then I want him to go quietly, peacefully. Those drugs could do that for him.”
“I won’t help you kill him,” Winry said, yanking away from the older woman.
“I’ll give them to you.” Pinako’s face set with grim determination.
Winry turned on her grandmother. “Granny!”
Pinako held up a strong, wrinkled hand. “But only if there’s no hope. Right now, the infection is still contained and he’s fighting. Yes, he’s in pain but he’s fighting. If it spreads to his brain or his intestines go gangrenous then I’ll give you the medicine because there’ll be nothing we can do.”
Riza nodded. “Thank you.” She dashed tears from her eyes. “Do you think he’ll make it?”
“He’s as strong a man as I’ve met over many long years. I think his chances are good. He just needs us to be strong, too.” Pinako rested a hand on Riza’s arm.
“I’m trying.” Riza tossed her hair back. “It’s not a matter of strength. I just won’t see him suffer any more. Roy’s been hurt so much and, if this is the end, I will see him off to a place where he won’t hurt any more.”
Winry pressed a hand to Riza’s shoulder then turned back to pull on her pale blue gown and rubber gloves. Pinako did likewise. Riza watched them work as a team. The older woman deftly cut away the bandages from around Roy’s truncated leg. She knew Roy was still in danger of losing more of his leg. There was an infection around the docking port, deep but not yet at bone. If it reached there, more of his leg would have to come off, above the knee, which Winry told her would mean relearning how to use it since one more joint would be involved. Providing, of course, Roy survived the sepsis first.
Riza watched as Pinako drew iodine-imbued gauze strips from inside Roy’s leg. They had explained it to her. There was an abscess and necrotic tissue inside the ragged red hole and dead tissue would be drawn out, stuck to the gauze, without needing surgery. Riza had to admit, less gauze went in every time, a sure sign that at least his leg was mending. Winry, her gloves clean of the infection, pushed fresh gauze in. It was morbidly fascinating. Riza jumped when someone knocked as Winry was bandaging Roy back up. Riza went to peek out the door, surprised to see Gracia there. “Gracia?”
“I won’t stay long. I just wanted to ask the doctor if I could put this in Roy’s room. He said it should be okay if we keep it quiet.” Gracia hefted a portable phonograph. Riza recognized it as one of Fuery’s gadgets. “I know Roy likes symphonic music. Maes used to tease him about it. I thought it might be comforting for him to hear some. I left the records in the car until I was sure you thought it was a good idea.”
Riza took the heavy equipment. “I think it’s a perfect idea. I’ll help you go get the records. Thank you so much, Gracia.”
The green-eyed woman smiled. “My pleasure.”
“I’ll set it up for you, Riza,” Winry said, peeling off her gloves and surgical gown.
Riza thanked her, trying not to cry out of sheer gratitude for the good people in her life.
X X X
Flopping down on the bed, Winry locked an arm around Dev. He still had a look on his face that suggested he wasn’t quite sure how he had been taken away from his work by a force stronger and more demanding than a sandstorm. However, he looked quite happy about it. She knew Dev was still sore and, of course, even more of her automail had been blown to bits, leaving him with a stump. That’s why she had made sure to be on top after she had corralled him in his room the moment Aris left the Ishbalans’ two bedroom apartment. Watching Riza’s agony, it struck home just how close Winry had come to losing yet another man in her life and she wanted to let Dev know how she felt about him. Only, she wasn’t really sure what that was. She cared certainly and deeply. She found him sexy. But did she love him the way Riza loved Roy? Would losing Dev nearly kill her, too? “You okay?” she asked him.
Dev wiped a sweat-slicked lock of dark hair out of his red eyes. “I was about to ask you the same. You seemed a little…intense this time.”
She brushed a kiss over his lips. “Thinking about how badly Roy’s doing and how it’s hurting Riza.”
“Is he going to die?” Dev slipped and arm around her as if this was normal every day pillow talk. Winry wondered if it was for the hunted and wounded Ishbalans.
“He might. Riza…she doesn’t want his death to drag out,” Winry said, unsure if she should mention it to anyone.
Dev nodded. “I can understand that. Death should have dignity of some sort…and as often as I’ve wished death on him, these past months, getting to know him, working with him, I feel guilty about that.”
“I’m sure he’d understand.” Winry traced the rippled skin above Dev’s docking port. The tanned flesh was marred by white, melted-candle appearing expanse of burn scars. “You may have set a new record for destroying automail. At least Ed and Roy learned to use theirs before they got it blown off.”
Dev made a face at her, looking at his stump. “And now I have to go through the pain of you putting it back on. Not that it does anything. That hand just lies there spazzing about if I can make it move at all.”
Winry laughed softly. “It takes a few years to get it right. We warned you about that…and about the pain.”
“I know. I just thought that if that bas….Mustang could do it in a year and Edward, too, then I should at least be able to move a finger or something in a few months,” Dev said and Winry could hear the deep disappointment. “Then again, if I were the Fullmetal Alchemist, I’d probably have been able to contain the bomb or at least done something useful.”
Winry winced, hearing the self-recrimination in Dev’s tone. Maybe they all had made too big a deal out of Dev’s similarities to Edward in their personalities. He seemed to have taken it deeper to heart than she knew, setting up Edward as an invisible rival and someone he needed to outdo at all times. “No one could have stopped that bomb,” she said, not really sure of that. She remembered the stories Roy told her about the Crimson Alchemist. “And believe me, neither Edward nor Roy went waltzing on their automail minutes after getting it. It’s very hard to learn to use it. You’ll do fine. I’ll have another arm for you soon,” she promised then frowned. “Were your friends giving you a hard time about losing your arm or not being able to use it right?” Winry remembered the angry look on his face earlier in the day when he had been with some of the young Ishbalans who had moved into Central.
Dev shook his head, squirming on the sweat-soaked sheets so he wouldn’t have to meet her eyes. “No, they were…” His fists balled up in the sheet. “They were harassing me about having an Amestrian girlfriend. They wanted to know if I was too good for Ishbalans now.”
Winry stroked his shoulder, feeling him move away from her touch. “That’s cruel. It shouldn’t matter who you love,” she said but she knew it did. There had been something between them as of late and now she knew what it was. He was leaving her, too. Maybe Dev didn’t know it yet but he was. Just like her parents, like Mr. Hughes, like Ed and Al, soon Dev, so proud of his Ishbalan heritage, would drift away like fog with barely a trace that he was there.
“I know,” he muttered, rolling onto his back. “You were the first person to ever make me think someone could find me sexy.” Dev gestured to his lost arm and the expanse of twisted, melted candle flesh that rose up over his slender hip, licking its way to his collarbone. She didn’t know how the poor boy had survived such a hideous wound as a child. “I don’t care that you’re not Ishbalan. What I care about is you.”
While Winry didn’t doubt that, she was even more certain that he did care about her lineage and always had. Maybe she was only with Dev because of those familiar Ed-like traits. Maybe they were both looking for something in each other that almost fit the mold but not quite. Still, Dev was here now. Ed was gone where Winry could never follow. What was happening to Roy had proven once again how little time they all had and how unpredictable life was. He might leave her but for now she would hold Dev tight. She kissed his chest, her mouth rolling over the rippled flesh where a nipple should have been. “You are sexy and I care about you.” Winry wanted to add ‘when you go, now at least you’ll know you can be desirable just as you are,’ but she kept her own counsel, letting him take her in his arms - or what was left of the one - and hold her. Maybe this was something they both needed.
onto Chapter Three