Fullmetal Alchemist: "The Spider's Web" (9/?)
AN: This chapter is more of a short interlude than anything else- giving Ed and Al a moment of peace before all hell breaks loose….and before I bring Vivian back in to meddle with things…
At some point-Al didn’t really register when-Marie’s knee was replaced by Ed’s underneath his head, and something wet and cold was placed over his eyes. He tried to protest, because the cold of it drove dull spikes of pain into his skull, but he found that his mouth wouldn’t quite obey his brain. He settled eventually for shaking his head minutely from side to side, at the very least to get Ed’s attention if not to knock the thing loose.
A heavy hand fell over his eyes, and his vision went pitch-black. “Leave it,” came Ed’s voice, gentle, but his hand didn’t budge.
Al couldn’t muster the energy to argue, and just laid there, dumbly, dazed and freezing, but glad that Ed was there in any case.
But…
Something wasn’t quite right here. Well, that was a near-absurd understatement, but aside from everything else that was quite obviously and dreadfully wrong right now, there was something-
And then it hit him. He might not be able to see the room, but it was completely silent in here.
And why was it suddenly Ed he was using as an impromptu pillow, and not-
He made some sort of questioning sound-he didn’t think his tongue was quite coordinated enough at the moment to actually say her name, but Ed must’ve understood, because he said, “Marie’s fine.”
“W-where-” he finally managed.
“Well her sister and her uncle didn’t get their hands on her yet, if that’s what you mean.” There was a low, vicious edge to his voice. And suddenly Al was quite sure that it wasn’t any ill treatment of Marie that had put that fury there.
Marie’s not the one dying here, you are…
….Don’t think about it….
He gulped.
Do NOT think about it. Not right now. Not until we’ve made it out of here.
But why was it so damned hard to be brave about this? Maybe because he knew it was coming. Knew how weak he was. Could already feel it coming.
But Ed’s voice interrupted these thoughts
“She went to try and find something for your arms,” he said, flatly.
Al winced. So Ed had seen them, then.
“They’ve started to swell pretty badly against the ropes, and she doesn’t want them to cut off your circulation.” Al felt the edge of the blanket being lifted off his chest. “Bastards,” Ed muttered under his breath. “I wouldn’t have thought that there’d be enough of your arms to swell, but apparently I underestimate their ability to tie knots.” That fury had return to his voice full-tilt.
“Can’t feel it,” Al offered, weakly, but Ed huffed.
“That’s not a good thing, Al. You could lose your arms. And believe me, we don’t wanna add double automail surgery to your laundry list. Winry would kill you.” There was a weak sort of a smile in his voice at that, but Al wasn’t sure whether if he wanted to laugh or cry.
“I asked her to forget about the swelling and just find something to cut the bonds,” he continued, letting the blanket fall back onto Al’s chest, “But she’s still convinced we’re gonna die here no matter what we do, and that they’d just retie it if they caught us and maybe add a few extra fractures in there for good measure, so she wouldn’t do it.”
“They’d hurt her,” Al pointed out, gritting his teeth as the sound of his own voice made his head throb. “If they thought t-that she was gonna t-try t’help us escape…”
“I know they would.” Ed sighed. “Which is why I didn’t argue with her when she said she couldn’t.”
“And I take it that t-there’s nothing in the room,” he guessed. The place was bare as a bone, and he didn’t need to be on his feet and looking around to be pretty certain of that fact.
“I tore the place apart while you were sleeping, believe me. Nothing,” Ed’s voice was something akin to a frustrated growl. “Of course I had stuff hidden on me when I showed up here. Knives, a lock pick even. But they weren’t stupid enough not to strip-search me first thing when I arrived.” He made a derisive sound. “Can’t say they’re not thorough, though. They were convinced I had stuff hidden inside my braid.”
Aha, so that’s why his hair was down. Al couldn’t help but smile faintly at that. “Well did you?”
Ed sounded distinctly pissed off now. “Well yeah, but it’s still damned inconvenient for us…”
Al chuckled.
“Don’t see what’s so funny,” Ed groused. Al could feel his fingers messing restlessly with the hem of the blanket. “If we don’t get your arms free-”
“We have no alchemy,” Al finished, smile fading.
“…Yeah,” Ed agreed, quietly. “And unless you can think of a decent Plan B, we’re gonna need that.”
And Al certainly didn’t have a Plan B. Locked up in a place of unknown size and layout surrounded by an unknown enemy, their only shot at scape was freeing himself to use alchemy-a force to help break down walls, create doors, and dodge bullets. He wasn’t a hundred percent sure it would still work for him with both of his arms broken as badly as they were, but if he had to force it, he would.
“If I hadn’t switched to Northern, I couldn’t popped open the hatch and taken a gear or something outta my leg for us to use, but it’s screwed shut on this model, so no dice.” Ed tapped the foot of the leg in question against the ground, hard. “Probably why they let me keep it instead of detaching it as soon as I got here.”
“Well don’t talk too loud,” Al said. “Don’t give them any ideas. Besides,” he said, with a yawn as the drug tugged at his consciousness once more, “If you took your leg apart, how’d we be able t’get outta here?”
“I’d put it back together.” There was a bit of sulk in Ed’s voice.
“There’s a reason Winry never lets you mess with it yourself, Brother.” Of its own accord, his head began to slump sideways on Ed’s knee.
“Al?” There was a note of panic in his voice now, and Al felt a gentle pressure on his cheek, as if Ed was trying to push his head back upright.
“’M’okay,” Al slurred. “Jus’ tired.” That awful cold numbness hadn’t gone away, but it was more distant now, and he wasn’t so petrified that he wouldn’t wake up this time. After all, he had to-he wasn’t about to die in Ed’s arms and leave him at the mercy of these people without his only shot at escaping. So not waking up was out of the question.
…But then again, at the moment, so was staying awake.
Ed lifted the cloth off of his eyes then. Al blinked against the sudden assault of the light on his eyes, but when his vision cleared, he could see Ed holding the cloth up in his hands-it seemed to be a bit of the bed sheet that he and Marie must’ve torn off and wet in the old sink-and, well, Al really wasn’t sure what Ed was trying to do with the thing. Scrunching it up, wringing it out though no water fell from it, and re-folding it again, all while frowning and squinting at it as if in deep concentration.
Al watched him, eyes growing heavier, and not liking one bit how pale and utterly exhausted Ed looked. He wondered how much sleep Ed had gotten-if any-since this had all started.
“You need anything?” Ed asked, after a moment, once he finally seemed satisfied with the way he’d folded the cloth. He’d wrapped it loosely round and round itself like a flattened-out jelly roll.
“Yeah,” Al muttered sleepily, letting his eyes fall shut. “Chicken pot pie and some tea’d be nice.”
He heard a snort, and felt Ed whack his forehead lightly. “Yeah, okay. I’ll get right on that.”
***
At some point-Al didn’t really register when-Marie’s knee was replaced by Ed’s underneath his head, and something wet and cold was placed over his eyes. He tried to protest, because the cold of it drove dull spikes of pain into his skull, but he found that his mouth wouldn’t quite obey his brain. He settled eventually for shaking his head minutely from side to side, at the very least to get Ed’s attention if not to knock the thing loose.
A heavy hand fell over his eyes, and his vision went pitch-black. “Leave it,” came Ed’s voice, gentle, but his hand didn’t budge.
Al couldn’t muster the energy to argue, and just laid there, dumbly, dazed and freezing, but glad that Ed was there in any case.
But…
Something wasn’t quite right here. Well, that was a near-absurd understatement, but aside from everything else that was quite obviously and dreadfully wrong right now, there was something-
And then it hit him. He might not be able to see the room, but it was completely silent in here.
And why was it suddenly Ed he was using as an impromptu pillow, and not-
He made some sort of questioning sound-he didn’t think his tongue was quite coordinated enough at the moment to actually say her name, but Ed must’ve understood, because he said, “Marie’s fine.”
“W-where-” he finally managed.
“Well her sister and her uncle didn’t get their hands on her yet, if that’s what you mean.” There was a low, vicious edge to his voice. And suddenly Al was quite sure that it wasn’t any ill treatment of Marie that had put that fury there.
Marie’s not the one dying here, you are…
….Don’t think about it….
He gulped.
Do NOT think about it. Not right now. Not until we’ve made it out of here.
But why was it so damned hard to be brave about this? Maybe because he knew it was coming. Knew how weak he was. Could already feel it coming.
But Ed’s voice interrupted these thoughts
“She went to try and find something for your arms,” he said, flatly.
Al winced. So Ed had seen them, then.
“They’ve started to swell pretty badly against the ropes, and she doesn’t want them to cut off your circulation.” Al felt the edge of the blanket being lifted off his chest. “Bastards,” Ed muttered under his breath. “I wouldn’t have thought that there’d be enough of your arms to swell, but apparently I underestimate their ability to tie knots.” That fury had return to his voice full-tilt.
“Can’t feel it,” Al offered, weakly, but Ed huffed.
“That’s not a good thing, Al. You could lose your arms. And believe me, we don’t wanna add double automail surgery to your laundry list. Winry would kill you.” There was a weak sort of a smile in his voice at that, but Al wasn’t sure whether if he wanted to laugh or cry.
“I asked her to forget about the swelling and just find something to cut the bonds,” he continued, letting the blanket fall back onto Al’s chest, “But she’s still convinced we’re gonna die here no matter what we do, and that they’d just retie it if they caught us and maybe add a few extra fractures in there for good measure, so she wouldn’t do it.”
“They’d hurt her,” Al pointed out, gritting his teeth as the sound of his own voice made his head throb. “If they thought t-that she was gonna t-try t’help us escape…”
“I know they would.” Ed sighed. “Which is why I didn’t argue with her when she said she couldn’t.”
“And I take it that t-there’s nothing in the room,” he guessed. The place was bare as a bone, and he didn’t need to be on his feet and looking around to be pretty certain of that fact.
“I tore the place apart while you were sleeping, believe me. Nothing,” Ed’s voice was something akin to a frustrated growl. “Of course I had stuff hidden on me when I showed up here. Knives, a lock pick even. But they weren’t stupid enough not to strip-search me first thing when I arrived.” He made a derisive sound. “Can’t say they’re not thorough, though. They were convinced I had stuff hidden inside my braid.”
Aha, so that’s why his hair was down. Al couldn’t help but smile faintly at that. “Well did you?”
Ed sounded distinctly pissed off now. “Well yeah, but it’s still damned inconvenient for us…”
Al chuckled.
“Don’t see what’s so funny,” Ed groused. Al could feel his fingers messing restlessly with the hem of the blanket. “If we don’t get your arms free-”
“We have no alchemy,” Al finished, smile fading.
“…Yeah,” Ed agreed, quietly. “And unless you can think of a decent Plan B, we’re gonna need that.”
And Al certainly didn’t have a Plan B. Locked up in a place of unknown size and layout surrounded by an unknown enemy, their only shot at scape was freeing himself to use alchemy-a force to help break down walls, create doors, and dodge bullets. He wasn’t a hundred percent sure it would still work for him with both of his arms broken as badly as they were, but if he had to force it, he would.
“If I hadn’t switched to Northern, I couldn’t popped open the hatch and taken a gear or something outta my leg for us to use, but it’s screwed shut on this model, so no dice.” Ed tapped the foot of the leg in question against the ground, hard. “Probably why they let me keep it instead of detaching it as soon as I got here.”
“Well don’t talk too loud,” Al said. “Don’t give them any ideas. Besides,” he said, with a yawn as the drug tugged at his consciousness once more, “If you took your leg apart, how’d we be able t’get outta here?”
“I’d put it back together.” There was a bit of sulk in Ed’s voice.
“There’s a reason Winry never lets you mess with it yourself, Brother.” Of its own accord, his head began to slump sideways on Ed’s knee.
“Al?” There was a note of panic in his voice now, and Al felt a gentle pressure on his cheek, as if Ed was trying to push his head back upright.
“’M’okay,” Al slurred. “Jus’ tired.” That awful cold numbness hadn’t gone away, but it was more distant now, and he wasn’t so petrified that he wouldn’t wake up this time. After all, he had to-he wasn’t about to die in Ed’s arms and leave him at the mercy of these people without his only shot at escaping. So not waking up was out of the question.
…But then again, at the moment, so was staying awake.
Ed lifted the cloth off of his eyes then. Al blinked against the sudden assault of the light on his eyes, but when his vision cleared, he could see Ed holding the cloth up in his hands-it seemed to be a bit of the bed sheet that he and Marie must’ve torn off and wet in the old sink-and, well, Al really wasn’t sure what Ed was trying to do with the thing. Scrunching it up, wringing it out though no water fell from it, and re-folding it again, all while frowning and squinting at it as if in deep concentration.
Al watched him, eyes growing heavier, and not liking one bit how pale and utterly exhausted Ed looked. He wondered how much sleep Ed had gotten-if any-since this had all started.
“You need anything?” Ed asked, after a moment, once he finally seemed satisfied with the way he’d folded the cloth. He’d wrapped it loosely round and round itself like a flattened-out jelly roll.
“Yeah,” Al muttered sleepily, letting his eyes fall shut. “Chicken pot pie and some tea’d be nice.”
He heard a snort, and felt Ed whack his forehead lightly. “Yeah, okay. I’ll get right on that.”
***