FMA Fanfic: Unconditional – Six
Unconditional – Six.
by arcanewinter. R 2870 Roy*Hughes. Fullmetal Alchemist. AT, pan-series spoilers.
Greed’s debts may be too much for him to handle.
These characters do not belong to me. I do not profit from this.
The sand was getting irritating. Really irritating.
It was hard to walk in, hard to see in, hard to breathe in, but that was really the wind’s fault.
No, grumbled Greed wordlessly, that was really Pride’s fault–all of it was. Envy didn’t seem to be having any trouble at all with the conditions.
No trouble at all.
Greed stopped his trudging a moment just to stare at the figure several paces ahead of him. For two weeks it had been like this: Envy as normal as ever, Greed barely able to function. He was really no better than human right now. If it weren’t for Envy, Pride would have overtaken Greed days ago.
And if it weren’t for Envy, Greed never would have got out of there in the first place.
Damn it.
Greed sat down hard in the sand and flopped onto his back, arms folded. He was supposed to have everything, not owe everything. And with every step he took, he owed more. He was just slowing Envy down, and he had nothing to offer in return. It would make splitting up harder once Greed was well enough to survive alone, especially when Envy thought they’d be a team.
“Go on without me.”
The distant crunch of sand stopped under Envy’s feet. “That’s dramatic.”
“It’s not like I won’t be here when you get back,” Greed retorted, letting his irritation have free reign of his tone. “Go do your thing,” he mumbled, adding begrudgingly: “and save me a leftover.”
It wasn’t as though Greed hadn’t considered a partnership. It was mutually beneficial: they could steal more stones as a team, and they’d be better guarded against Pride. Moreover, the thought of giving Envy up was like another sword through his ribs.
But a partnership required compromise, and it required trust. Greed’s name rejected the former, and the latter, well, he didn’t have much evidence that their kind could be trusted. The sooner they could split up, the better–but not until Greed was restored to something near his previous strength, and he needed Envy for that. Until Envy collected enough stones, Greed would just have to pretend, and as he could do nothing to earn them, that might be a while.
He wished he didn’t feel so damned guilty about it, though.
“Suit yourself,” Envy called back. “But it’s right there.”
Greed opened an eye. To his right, the dunes stretched out to meet the clear and moonless sky. To his left, though, a little further ahead of them, were the distinguishable remains of a mansion.
On top of a fucking mountain.
“God damn it.”
“You want me to carry you?”
The mild ridicule snapped Greed upright again like a catapult.
“Just walk,” he growled. “I’m coming.”
He’d had a much harsher response in mind, but it wasn’t in his best interest to let it fly. He’d just have to put up with it until they were on equal footing again, however long that took.
Finding his balance again on the shifting sand was hell, but it wasn’t nearly as hard as keeping it. Still, Greed followed, hiding as much of his weakness as was physically possible. But much as he hated to admit it, he was utterly vulnerable, no matter who attacked him: Pride, Envy, a human, a gust of wind . . . but Pride was the more immediate, more likely threat–if he could be torn away from his shiny new war of expansion long enough to confront them.
They might have had a chance to hide practically anywhere if Pride weren’t the Sin they were running from. That just figured. And it didn’t help that Pride was holding their aces, while they didn’t have a clue where Pride now kept his.
They were were halfway up the mountainside before Greed tripped for the third time. Rough terrain and an upward slope had replaced the difficulty of the sand, and it was no improvement. The rocks were far less cushioning, and far less quiet. They no longer escaped Envy’s notice.
“For the last time, just sit down and wait for me! I said I’ll do the goddamned work.”
“Oh, now I get your sympathy,” Greed mumbled, pushing himself up again. He’d been able to fake it pretty well until now. Now, he was actually bleeding. Fucking ridiculous.
“Yeah, well, you didn’t tell me–”
“Well, I don’t need it,” Greed snapped. “Go.”
Envy’s expression turned from mild concern to the more usual scorn. “Fine. Split your head open. More stones for me.”
He turned and marched with enviable ease up the narrow path in front of him.
Greed watched him, pulling himself up and forward until he’d gained his footing again, but that was all. Greed did need his sympathy, or more accurately, his charity. And Envy, expecting a partner out of him, was willing to give it. So why couldn’t Greed just take it? Sure, he planned on leaving, but Pride must have been planning that uprising for some time and he never seemed to feel guilty. Why did Greed? Why couldn’t he just take Envy for all he was worth? Wasn’t Envy already his?
Or maybe–maybe he could accept that offer. His body and his conscience were begging him to do it. He needed the rest that trusting Envy could bring, and he needed a release from the guilt he couldn’t quite escape. They’d been partners before under Her direction. They were good at working together. It would be easier all around if they could just–
But no. He had already seen the mistakes Envy made on his account. Envy wasn’t watching out for himself, and Greed would not be responsible for his being a damned fool. Greed was leaving, as soon as he was strong enough, and they’d both be better off.
He trudged up the rest of the steep path, his weight sinking into every step just to anchor it. When he reached the top, he sat himself down a little harder than he meant to against the remains of a foundation wall, arms folded over his chest. Fine. So he probably couldn’t move another inch. At least he’d got up here.
A few feet away, the other homunculus was fingering through the journal they had brought with them, crouched over where it lay open on the ground. It was very thoughtful of Dante to have made all record of her intended exploitations so easy to transport.
“I think we can guess why this attempt got crossed out,” Envy confessed, rubbing the hair on his chin.
Scowling, Greed leaned to the side until he could peer around the edge of the wall. Sure enough, most of the mansion had collapsed into a pile of debris as though the rock underneath it had given way. Only one narrow wing remained standing, its short end gaping open where the rest of the structure had ripped away.
Greed leaned back again, eyes narrower than usual. “So there’s a good chance we came all the way here for nothing.”
“It was a big operation. There’s gotta be something stashed away somewhere.” Envy closed the book and stood, tossing it closer to where Greed was sitting. “And whatever’s still in progress is too risky right now.”
Greed looked away, pretending to listen for unwelcome company. Envy really was banking on Greed’s aid in the future. “Well, have fun,” he grumbled, dismissing the other, along with his own thoughts. He closed his eyes, still leaning against the crumbling wall.
He heard the crunch of footsteps moving towards the mansion, but not immediately.
“Let me know if he shows up,” he said, his footsteps soon breaking into a run before a heavier crunch of gravel sounded his leap. It was quiet after that.
Greed opened his eyes, warily looking over the desert-like horizon, barely distinguishable from the sky. He couldn’t see any figures, alone or otherwise, but at the moment he’d have missed them even if they were there. Pride would be on him before he could call out, and then what would Envy do?
It was another of Envy’s mistakes: now he was trusting Greed for their safety. Yes, the sooner he was out of there, the better.
He squinted as the stronger wind kicked up, spraying sand into his face. Once it died down, he reached to pick up the journal, shaking it off before he could somehow lose it under a dune. Their lives from now on more or less depended on this little book. And that meant, of course, that they’d have to figure out how to divide it between them.
Greed scanned the landscape again rather uselessly before opening the journal. He found the entry for the collapsed mansion, then flipped forward a few entries until he found a few operations he remembered. For several of them, he had been working with Envy.
Greed frowned, flipping more pages. No, after a certain point, he’d spent all of them working with Envy.
He supposed that made sense. Lust had always been with Gluttony. Sloth was always busy with Pride, and Wrath . . . well, Wrath was useless.
And now, in addition to Pride, Envy and Greed were the only ones left. He hadn’t even trusted Sloth enough to keep her: in fact, from what they could gather in the newspapers (which glorified King Bradley as a national hero), she’d been the first to go.
And that’s just the point Greed would eventually prove to Envy. Homunculi could not be trusted, not by anyone, not even by other homunculi.
So why Envy had risked so much to bring Greed with him out of that battle was beyond Greed. For a human, maybe that was noble. But for their kind it was just unnecessary. There were no allowances for behavior like that, and it only bred confusion. If Envy knew what was good for him, he’d take the journal and leave Greed to his own devices. It would mean eventual but certain death for Greed, but at least Greed could stop worrying.
Squinting again with the return of the wind, Greed tucked the journal under one arm and used the wall to haul himself upright. He turned his back to the dry landscape below and was just about to plop himself down on the other side of the wall when he saw Envy approaching. It took him a moment to spy the corked flask in his hand, and another moment further to make out the red stones within it.
“We’re in luck,” Envy announced as he stopped a few feet away, and Greed leaned warily against the wall, hoping it wasn’t about to topple behind him. He probably wouldn’t get up again if it did. “Looks like part of the lab was still standing. These were as far as they got.”
All human emotion forgotten, Greed’s eyes followed the sway of the flask, his hunger and his sin making him powerless to look away. So the stones weren’t the real thing–Greed didn’t really think they would be, not in a laboratory, but he couldn’t help wanting them with every untrustworthy fiber of his being, and he wanted much more than what he expected Envy to give. If he surprised him, could he manage to take them all? Did he stand even the smallest chance?
But it was Envy who surprised him, the action so opposite to what Greed was thinking that he barely caught the flask when it was tossed to him. He had no mind for questioning now: he got exactly what he wanted, and it didn’t matter why.
Well, it was almost what he wanted. While one hand awkwardly gripped the rounded glass belly, the other tugged fruitlessly at the cork. He nearly rubbed off the skin of his hand twisting and pulling at it, his mouth watering already for what was inside, but the damned thing wasn’t coming out, and the struggle wasn’t doing Greed any favors.
Growling in frustration, he lifted the flask to hurl it against the wall, wondering if he even had the strength to break it. But before he could try it, Envy had taken it out of his hand, throwing Greed from his already-precarious balance. He hit the ground, sitting, once more, against the wall, furious and pathetic and starving.
He heard the pop of the cork just before the narrow mouth was set against his, and his tongue eagerly accepted the short flow of stones that followed. They made ugly sounds against his teeth, but he was far beyond the perception of most of his senses. He knew only the sensation of physical restoration as the life in the stones replenished much of what he’d lost on the transmutation circle.
When the reaction had fizzled out, and his tongue could find nothing further in the corners of his mouth, he could tell he wasn’t quite on par with his usual self. But he was close. He felt good.
It wasn’t until he opened his eyes again that he realized the flask was empty, and had been since it left his mouth. His eyes flicked up to Envy just as Envy tossed it away to shatter safely away from them.
It was much easier to stand this time.
“You didn’t take any?”
The question wasn’t a kind one, and Envy’s expression acknowledged that fact as he looked Greed over.
“You needed them more than I did.”
“Since when does that matter?”
Envy folded his arms indignantly, still cool against Greed’s temper. “Since the faster we can actually work together, the faster we can move on to bigger operations. What’s the problem?”
“The problem is, you sap, that we won’t be working together, and if you’d been a little more concerned about your own skin, you’d have seen that coming!”
“What do you mean we won’t be working together?”
Greed clenched his teeth and turned away. He knew he’d have to explain himself when the time came, he just didn’t think it’d be right now. “You just keep setting yourself up,” he growled. “I don’t know where you learned to act all naive and sentimental, but you need to be more greedy.” He turned to face him again, grinning unsuccessfully. “Or more selfish, if you prefer.”
“Just like she taught us, huh?” Envy’s voice was as smooth as his expression. It only heated Greed further: what was so hard about this concept?
“She taught us self-preservation, which is exactly–”
“Yeah, her own self.”
“And shouldn’t we be in it for ourselves now?”
“Should we?”
“Damn right we should! You almost got yourself killed five times over back at that old hag’s house! You should have been getting your ass out of there instead of exposing yourself to save mine. What the hell was that back there, anyway?”
Finally, Envy’s calm expression began to falter. Maybe Greed’s point was getting through to him.
“What? What the hell was what?”
No, still acting stupid.
“When you did your thing to me,” Greed spat with an exasperated gesture, ignoring Envy’s puzzling look of relief. “You had no idea that stunt would work, and then we both would have been dead.”
“I told you, I couldn’t just leave you.”
Greed folded his arms, matching the return of Envy’s coldness. “Yeah, well, you can try again now.”
Envy narrowed his eyes. Clearly he had already regained the upper hand. “The only reason I ended up having to save our asses with that ‘stunt’ in the first place was because you tried to save mine. Remember that?”
Greed’s eyes widened. “That–”
“Yeah?”
He wanted to say it wasn’t the same thing–and it wasn’t; that Greed hadn’t expected to make it out anyway–and he hadn’t; but all he could do was snatch the journal from the sand where it had fallen and shove it to Envy’s chest so he could go.
But he couldn’t win even at this. Envy made no move to take it.
“Keep it,” he suggested slyly. “Be a little more selfish. Or greedy if–”
“SHUT UP,” Greed growled, taking the journal back and twisting it at the spine to tear it, half for each of them.
But the leather binding wasn’t giving. The damned thing was old enough to fall apart on its own and he couldn’t tear it a fraction of an inch no matter how much he swore.
He finally gave up as he felt the hand on his shoulder, and he looked at it, unaccustomed to the gesture.
“Look,” Envy muttered, “the only one I’m trusting from here on out is you. So if you know you can betray me, then by all means, go.”
Greed scowled as his attention shifted sidelong to Envy’s face. He knew he should have been asking himself if he thought Envy could be trusted, but the answer to that had been written on Envy’s face the very moment he ran headlong onto the transmutation circle after him.
Greed shrugged out from under Envy’s hand. “Why do you have to put it like that,” he mumbled, smoothing the journal’s pages before he closed it.