FMA Fanfic: Unconditional – Eight
Unconditional – Eight.
by arcanewinter. R 3310 Roy*Hughes. Fullmetal Alchemist. AT, pan-series spoilers.
Pride meets his inevitable end, and Envy becomes far too interested in clues to Greed’s past.
These characters do not belong to me. I do not profit from this. [...]
Security around the mansion was tight, as it always been. That the nation’s warlord and leader was on his perceived death bed made no difference to the guards, who would protect him to the end.
They couldn’t, of course, protect him from his only real enemy. They couldn’t protect him from what his artificial body was designed to do.
Greed kept his eyes on Envy. To the rest of the guards, Envy was just one more among them, but to Greed, he was a guide that would keep things from getting very inconvenient very quickly. After a moment, in a seemingly careless gesture, Envy shifted the direction of his rifle, counter to the direction he was facing. With a quick glance, Greed saw the next clump of bushes and took off in a silent, swift dart for their cover.
In another moment, Envy had sauntered to him, eyes scanning the grounds just like the other guards. With his final nod, Greed scrambled up the gutter with surprising deftness for his bulk. At the top, the tip of a diamond-hard claw cut a neat score into the glass above the latch, and with a few discreet taps, twists, and tugs, the window was open to him.
It was funny, he thought as he collected himself in a corner of the room. They’d spent three decades trying to keep one step ahead of someone they weren’t even sure was following them, and now, here they were using all their prowess to get close to him again.
From his vantage point, Greed could see the edge of Pride’s bed. It matched the opulence of the room around it, lit by a number of expensive lamps, luxuries Greed and Envy could have had a thousand times over by now if it hadn’t been for their near-constant motion. They had no home. Nowhere had been safe.
But the stench that cloaked the room kept Greed from feeling too jealous. Pride may have had everything they didn’t, but what good was it if it didn’t last forever?
Greed glanced up as Envy slipped in through the compromised window, the room’s shadows seeming to strip him of the soldier’s guise as he released it. Greed watched his face with a smirk as his nose wrinkled. Of course Envy would notice it too.
Greed waited just a moment longer while Envy got his bearings, then crept past the window until he could stand without worry of interruption from outside. When he felt Envy join him, he drew in his breath and stepped silently into the next room, into the light, within just a few feet of a homunculus so petrified with age that it was beyond imagination that he could lift a hand to harm them now.
It was one of the more horrible things he’d seen in his life, and that was saying something. The newspaper hadn’t deigned to include a photograph alongside its report of the Fuhrer’s rapidly declining health, and it was no wonder why.
Only a faint rattling in the thing’s throat gave them any indication it was alive at all.
So it was true. Pride was at the end of his life, the only homunculus among them whose death was a predictable occasion. And his only hope of reversing the condition had died with the woman almost thirty years ago. In a few days, at most, it would be final.
They had come to challenge him, perhaps, to belittle him. In all this time they hadn’t rested. They were tired and they were angry and they wanted Pride to pay. But what worse insult could they throw down?
Greed shook himself out of his light stupor, refusing to let the image bore any deeper into his mind. He sauntered with forced carelessness around the foot of the bed, eyes glancing over all the affectations of a normal human life–photographs and jewelry, medals and letters, flowers for comfort. It was only now that all of these things were cast into the appropriate juxtaposition.
“Cowards . . .”
Greed turned, eyes on Envy before their attention settled uneasily on the body in the bed. The dry, hollow rustle still hanging in the fetid air had indeed come from that throat. That it could still produce sounds at all was a surprise.
Greed retraced his steps with a little less swagger as he returned to Envy’s side.
“You face me only now,” the voice continued, labored but determined in its bitterness. There was no movement aside from the barest nuance in the lips, and the Ultimate Eye, which slowly opened in perfect clarity to focus on them.
Though aware that Envy had folded his arms, Greed kept his eyes fixed on their old enemy, his voice level as though to keep him dormant. “We’re not stupid, Pride.”
Pride hissed in a sort of laughter. “Look at you–of course you are. Still clinging to each other like children.”
Greed looked to Envy in time to catch his mirrored glance. They’d come to terms with their unorthodox dependencies a long time ago, but the slight was felt nonetheless. As homunculi, how could they begin to explain themselves?
But there was no point defending their decisions to this had-been.
“What have you got to show for it?” Pride pressed, his sallow face mustering some hint of expression now.
“Give us time,” Envy muttered, his brow heavy over his stare. “At least we’ve got it.”
“And it’s finally ours,” Greed added, almost to himself, his expression almost wistful. They had known this day would come, but they’d never allowed themselves to look forward to it. That optimism was too costly. Even now, they were both on edge, ready for anything. What they had together was valuable, and as Greed had said, they weren’t stupid.
But Pride’s bitterness would allow no concession. “No matter what you stand to gain, all you’ll ever have is half.”
“And what do you have?” Greed growled, quieting a moment later to avoid drawing anyone’s attention to the room. “Where did betrayal get you?”
“Ask yourself.” Pride closed his eye, but Greed had the feeling it was still on him. “You didn’t try to save her.”
“I’m talking about the rest of us–fuck her.”
Greed didn’t notice he was all but bearing down on him until he felt Envy’s hand on his chest, and he stepped back again, though he was no better collected. He’d never been able to understand, let alone forgive what Pride had done, what he’d tried to do. What they’d had back then, the seven of them–it wasn’t so strong as trust, but they’d been the seven, they’d been united by a common yoke and circumstance. Neither of them had interacted often with the nation’s false leader, but they were what they were, and no one else was.
But clearly Pride felt no shred of remorse for his actions, regardless of where they’d gotten him. The bastard was smiling, though it was as subtle as his breathing.
“I see your irritating sense of loyalty never left you, colonel.”
Greed’s eyes remained fixed, though they narrowed.
Again, Pride laughed, a rasping, crude push of breath. Obviously he was hoping for some reaction, some comfort of mutual suffering, some way to plant a seed of destruction in their infant immortality. He had thrown out the poisoned bait to one he knew would have the greatest trouble refusing it.
But again, Greed wasn’t stupid.
Glancing to Envy, he confirmed that they were done here. Pride would never bother them again.
“Good luck with that coffin,” Greed muttered, turning before Pride could gather the breath for another word.
* * *
The late morning sky was clear and wide above them. For miles around, it seemed, there was very little cover, and at this hour there were no shadows long enough to shelter them.
It wasn’t often Greed felt so exposed. With just a soldier’s uniform to hide him, he rued Envy’s ability to weave himself into a human’s world so completely, even when he was the center of attention, or near enough to it. There’d been a time their kind wouldn’t have been recognized by many, but after Pride’s dissemination of their characteristics to the public, hiding was necessary.
In a few minutes, however, it wouldn’t matter who discovered them. In a few minutes, there would be no one more powerful; in minutes, their days of running and their nights of unease would be over. What still lay ahead for them, they couldn’t know, but didn’t care. The worst was behind them.
But there remained one final task, simple, but crucial. And so, though the bulbous sack under his arm was uncomfortable, Greed remained rigid with a soldier’s posture, avoiding due attention. He kept his eyes hidden by the brim of his hat, glancing only now and then to the priest at Pride’s coffin, who was finally wrapping things up.
“So you were in the military, huh?”
Greed frowned at the resurfacing conversation, but he couldn’t keep his mind focused on something so alien to him as a funeral.
“Does it matter?” Greed hadn’t meant to be so quick or so venomous, but he had expected this very conversation the moment they left the mansion grounds.
“No,” Envy mused, hurrying a few steps in front of him to turn and continue their trek backwards. “But aren’t you curious?”
“No.”
“Really? You never wonder about who you were?”
“Why should I?” Greed kicked some of the gravel in Envy’s direction. “I know who I am, that’s enough.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Envy muttered, turning around again to walk forward, relieving Greed of his stare. “I bet I was filthy rich–and every bastard in the city wanted to be me.”
“Yeah, I’ll bet,” Greed answered under his breath. He could all but hear the smile in Envy’s voice, but Greed couldn’t see the humor in it. Human was human. Humans were weak and unfit; humans failed; humans died.
“Looks like rain,” said the female officer at his side quietly, heretofore completely silent.
Greed lifted his eyes from the coffin they were lowering into the ground, but for a split second he felt caught in something, like his breath had snagged in his chest.
He turned his head to find her eyes not quite raised to his, but she was watching him nonetheless.
Rain?
Puzzled, Greed glanced up at the clear sky, and finding no explanation there, made the mistake of actually meeting her eyes this time. But she didn’t flinch. She expected the difference in his gaze, and she was searching for something more.
Confusion was one of Greed’s least favorite emotions. Deciding to ignore her erroneous chit-chat, he turned and bowed his head again, waiting for the family–all ignorant to the end–and the other soldiers to recede. Thankfully, the soldier with the fading blond hair followed the others.
After a few minutes, only he and the priest remained at the grave.
Glancing carefully over his shoulder, Greed confirmed their privacy. They’d have to be quick: first things first, in case someone came to investigate. Setting down his bundle and collecting the nearby shovel, Greed started to toss negligible amounts of dirt into the grave, while Envy jumped down onto the coffin, his priest’s robes dissolving into a soldier’s uniform like Greed’s. There was just enough room around the coffin for alternate footing as he pried the lid open.
Greed sneered faintly. They’d put the shock behind them already, but it was still a gruesome sight, perhaps more so to know that such a thing could still be conscious, and indefinitely.
“All right, toss it down.”
Bending, Greed did as requested, then resumed his show of moving dirt until he heard the strike of the match.
Pride’s remains lit up quickly. Envy cursed, but he had leapt smoothly to Greed’s side without noticeable injury.
If Pride felt the fire, he lacked the ability to communicate it. It would be over in a matter of seconds, anyway, and that was a quicker death than he deserved. It could have been centuries longer.
There wasn’t much to burn. Like dry kindling, Pride’s remains seemed to have been destroyed mostly in that initial flare, and now through the smoke they saw only ash and embers, the coffin not even having the time to join in.
Greed couldn’t imagine that state. Having nothing, being nothing–especially when it seemed so much had been promised to him, so much power, so much time.
Was it any wonder that Pride had sought to destroy the immortality he alone was denied?
But pity was a waste of time. Bending down, Greed caught the lid of the coffin with his shovel and let it fall shut again, just a puff of ash escaping indefinite confinement.
Now it was done. Now, beyond any trace of doubt, he would never come for them. They were the last. They were free.
Between the two of them, they quickly piled enough dirt in the grave to smother all signs of their actions, then gave up. Someone would finish the job. It didn’t have to be them.
There were only a handful of soldiers still along the road when Greed and Envy reached it, but they were too far away to have noticed much of a disturbance over the grave-encrusted hill. There was also one car remaining, which Greed intended on taking. After all, they still had the uniforms on.
“So you found it,” said that same voice again. Greed was struck a second time by its irritating vagueness, but when he turned to give the blonde soldier a frank assessment of her sanity, Greed realized he’d seen her before–a long time ago, when Pride had first raised his hand against them and almost ended them both.
Greed liked her even less now.
“Sorry, no time to chat,” Greed answered, smiling for good measure.
“It wouldn’t have done any good to burn him without it,” she went on. Her voice didn’t weaken with the words. She was sure, and she was right.
Greed glanced to Envy. The uncommon gravity of his expression told Greed that he too recognized her, even through the effects of time.
“Was it mercy?”
Greed’s attention snapped to her again with a glare he knew Envy shared, but Greed’s temper spoke first, as it so often did. “Mercy? You think we’d do anything for that traitor if it didn’t help us more? You were there, you know what he did, you know he deserved hell on earth.” He jabbed a claw-like finger at her for emphasis. “Putting him out of his misery was the last thing we wanted to do.”
Though his attitude had slipped easily to aggression, her eyes assessed him calmly. Her lips softened into the barest smile.
“Of course.”
With a modest bow, she withdrew neatly to the nearby car, and Greed was still trying to come up with a retort when she pulled away from the curb.
Greed turned back to Envy with a growl of frustration, pulling the hat from his head and throwing it at the ground. “The nerve of that woman.”
“I know,” Envy murmured dryly, his eyes shifting from Greed’s face to the road with a measure of sympathy. “She took the car.”
* * *
It didn’t take them long to come across another vehicle to hijack, but after a moment spent in the enclosed space with Envy, Greed almost wished they hadn’t.
“There’s something more to her,” Envy was muttering to himself, but not quietly enough. He rubbed his chin just under the mouth with a finger, barely seeing the road Greed was supposed to be paying attention to.
“Yeah, she’s a quack,” Greed answered with as little volume, wanting neither to encourage him nor to incite him toward further explanation. “They shouldn’t give chicks like that guns.”
“Where would we be if they didn’t, though? If it hadn’t been for her–”
“We’d have gotten out of it somehow.”
“Yeah?” Envy snickered quietly. “We probably should have started trying, then, huh?”
Greed narrowed his eyes, but kept driving. He remembered how pitiful they had been against Pride and his alchemists–he wasn’t going to acknowledge it.
“But she knew about Pride,” Envy went on, evenly. His voice had taken on that intelligent quality that usually served them so well when they plotted out their heists. “And she didn’t even flinch when she looked at you.”
Greed sighed, his irritation spiking. “Envy.”
“I mean, I can barely not flinch when I look at you–”
“Envy.”
“Do you think she knew the ‘colonel’?”
Greed wrenched the car toward the curb at the same time that his other hand reached for Envy’s collar and yanked him across the seat. It succeeded in quieting him, but the surprised look on Envy’s face so close to his triggered a remorse Greed felt more and more often of late.
With his jaw set against apologizing, he pulled Envy the final few inches and pressed his tongue into his mouth, finding relief when it only took Envy half a second to respond. He could feel Envy’s hands searching for his bare skin under the uniform, and he tried not to bite too hard on the tongue he wished, at times, could be censured.
Yes, Greed thought with a mild smugness, relaxing into the seat, this is all you need to worry about.
* * *
The road wouldn’t take them much further than that. Leaving most of the uniform on the seat of the car, Greed followed Envy up the slope, through the man-made landscape of rusting towers and pulleys and empty mining cars. Toward the top, overlooking a respectable view of Central City, was an old train station, the end of a rail line whose purpose had dried up when the ore veins did.
Inside, the tall, broken windows let in enough sun that the workers’ tables and uncomfortable benches hadn’t rotted, and they held up even under Greed’s careless weight when he dropped himself onto one. He dumped the journal open on the table’s surface as usual. He’d done his best to block certain things from his mind, which he was pretty good at, but his general malaise remained.
They’d always known what they were. They’d always known that something had to have come before them, that they hadn’t just been created, they’d been recreated. But Greed had never been forced to acknowledge it before. And he didn’t welcome complications. Who would?
“We haven’t been west in a while,” he muttered, scanning a few brittle pages and turning them with a claw tip to avoid over-handling them in their age. This was their road map to power and sustainability, having led them to several successful operations. The stones hadn’t been perfect, but they were palatable, certainly.
Envy had stayed near one of the windows. It was Greed’s turn to pick, after all. He didn’t answer immediately; after all this time, Greed didn’t always expect him to.
“I know we only stayed this long to see it over and done with,” he said slowly, “but we could stay here. For a while.”
Greed looked up at him to see him turn around. He scoffed. Since when did they ever linger? “And what, set up house? Like humans?”
“Why not?” Envy shrugged, glancing beyond Greed to the far corners of the open building. “Besides, think of all the shit you could keep in here.”
Greed frowned, watching his partner suspiciously. Could they really just stay here?
He leaned back, only reluctantly casting a glance around the emptiness to consider, as Envy suggested, how he could fill it.
At long last, he sighed, defeated. Envy knew him too well.
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