Later that night, Hughes slipped back into the room to check on me before heading home. I'd just finished eating; though my stomach was full, my body remained weak, diverting every bit of energy toward repair and recovery until the healing process was complete.
"Hughes…" My voice came out smaller than I meant, hesitant. "I meant to ask you earlier, but… how long was I out?"
He stilled. For a moment, his gaze held steady on me, but I noticed the way his jaw tightened. Finally, he let out a long breath.
"It wasn't just a day or two," he said quietly. "Nicole… you were unconscious for six weeks. Six long weeks." His usual grin was nowhere to be found. "There were nights we thought we'd lose you. More than once. But every time, your body just... pulled itself back together. Like it was fighting just as hard as the doctors were to keep you alive."
The words struck like a stone in my stomach, heavy and suffocating. "…Six weeks?" I whispered.
He nodded, his voice softer now. "I was here almost every day. Sat right there in that chair, talking your ear off even if you couldn't hear me. Told you all about Gracia's cooking, Elicia's drawings, and how she won't stop showing them to everyone, even the mailman." A faint smile tugged at his mouth, though his eyes stayed tired. "I kept telling myself if I just kept talking, you'd wake up to tell me to shut up."
I swallowed hard, his words echoing in my chest. My body pulled itself back together... I thought of what Truth had told me: the Philosopher's Stone fused into me, its endless energy burning quietly in my veins. My stomach twisted. Was it really me fighting to live… or the Stone forcing my body to survive?
My gaze dropped to my hands. Automail hands. Cold, heavy, unfamiliar, yet still alive in their own way. I hadn't even noticed the tear slipping down my cheek until it fell. "I didn't realize how close I was to… actually dying. Again."
"That's because you weren't ready to leave," Hughes said, his tone firm but gentle. His hand settled on my shoulder. "You stayed. You fought. And when you're ready to fight again, you won't have to do it alone. Not ever again."
I gripped the sheets tightly, the weight of his words sinking deep. If I were going to fight again, I'd have to learn how to use these damn arms and fast. Automail wasn't something you just adapted to overnight. I'd read it could take years before someone could even lift a limb without collapsing under the weight. And yet here I was, still aching, yes, but already moving. Already healing faster than anyone should. Faster than anyone could.
I drew in a slow breath, steadying myself. "Hey… You wouldn't happen to know if the Elrics are in Central, would you?
Hughes rubbed the back of his neck. "They haven't made it back yet. Last I heard, they were still stuck out East. When that first bomb went off in Liore, a few more followed; blew out sections of the railways and forced the stations to shut down. All travel by train was frozen, partly for repairs, mostly to keep civilians and workers safe. The whole region spun into panic overnight."
His expression tightened. "Armstrong finally muscled through nearly two weeks of red tape to secure a car. He's got the boys with him now, heading back. Once he returns, they'll be here."
I nodded slowly and sank back against the bed, exhaustion tugging at me. Still, a small thread of relief wound its way through my chest. They were alive. Safe. That was enough for now.
"But," Hughes added gently, "if you're looking for someone to help you get better control of those new arms, I can find the right person at Central Command. Someone patient. Someone who won't panic when you accidentally dent the floor."
My eyes widened, hope and surprise flooding me. After everything I'd done… after what I'd tried… he still believed in me enough to offer that chance.
"You just have to promise me something," he continued, voice steady but kind. "Take some time for yourself first. Get settled at the house. Heal. When you can move without pain, then, and only then, will I be okay with you training."
A real smile tugged at my lips. I nodded firmly. "Deal."
His grin returned, softer this time. He reached out and patted the top of my head like a father with his own child. "Atta girl. And hey, try not to break my furniture with those things before you even start training, alright?"
A startled laugh slipped out of me before I could stop it. "No promises." I managed, shaking my head. For the first time since waking up, the heaviness in my chest felt just a little lighter.
(Watch Tower - East City)
“In the end, burning the place down was easier.” The homunculus, Lust, said.
“Is that what you were doing in Central?” the short, plump man asked her.
“Yes, the three kids found out about Marcoh’s research notes; something had to be done about it.” She sat down as she continued, “With that issue taken care of, I thought I would come see how things were progressing here in East City.”
“Gluttony?”
The man, Gluttony, stayed quiet as Lust looked to him, "Is he here?"
“I smell him… I can smell him.” Gluttony continued to sniff the air. “The scar-faced Ishvallen is close; I can taste his stink, like blood. I still get to eat him, right?”
“Oh yeah, right down to the last hair…”
(In the Sewers)
Scar moved through the sewers, the scurry of rats fading into silence. A flash of red eyes glared from the dark: Gluttony. The beast lunged, but Scar’s arm was faster, slamming into his head and tearing it apart in a single blast of his alchemy.
Then came Lust, her spear gleaming as it shot toward him, followed by a thunderous explosion that swallowed the tunnel in fire and stone.
(East Headquarters)
**Mustang P.O.V**
“Scar hasn’t been sighted, not once since the fight with the Elrics.” Riza read from the report.
“Maybe he isn’t even in Central anymore; he could be anywhere,” Havoc said, looking over the map of Amestris.
“I hope you’re wrong about that,” I said.
Havoc looked at me, confused.
“This case is obviously too much for Central to handle. If I can close it quickly enough, I’ll be golden.” I allowed myself a smirk. “I’ve got a ladder to climb, and this is how it’s done. I need every mark in my favor I can get, at least until I can become Führer.”
Riza arched a brow, the corner of her mouth tugging into a faint grin. “You may not want to display your ambitions so nakedly, sir.” “Yeah, I’ll be sure to remember that in the future,” I replied just as the door burst open.
“Reporting in, sir!” A soldier saluted briskly. “We’ve just received a report about an explosion on the Moroh River.”
~~~***~~~***~~~
“Was it a gas explosion?” I asked, scanning the wreckage.
“With everything else that’s going on here, who knows?”
"There's no mistaking it," Riza stated firmly. She held the torn jacket out for me to see, crimson soaking deep into the fabric. "It’s definitely Scar’s.”
“Have we found the body?” I called to the men combing through the rubble.
"Not yet." Havoc admitted, "We're still looking.”
Riza’s eyes lingered on the bloodied cloth. “With this much blood loss… he can’t be in good shape.” She glanced at me, then back to Havoc.
“Maybe not,” I said, my jaw tightening. “But we do this by the book. We don’t assume. We confirm. Understood, Lieutenant Havoc?”
“Yes, sir.”
I pointed back at the wreckage. “You and your men will work day and night until this site is cleared. I want his body found. Don’t take so much as a coffee break until it’s done. Is that clear?”
Havoc groaned. “Come on, Colonel… Can’t you cut us a little slack? At this rate, you’ll work us all to death.”
My patience snapped. “Shut up, Havoc! I don’t get to rest until I’ve seen Scar’s body with my own eyes. And until then, neither do you.”
Comments (0)
See all