Distant Love: New Sight

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Chapter Four: Identity

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“What the- gah, just what I need, Flamel fainting on me!” Taylor groaned, supporting the fainted Sergeant with his arm. He glanced warily over at Oiseau, but the captured Nimbian made no move to attack, instead looking around nervously at the gathering Amestrians. “Is there a doctor around here?”

Roy winced inwardly at the statement. Even though Ishbal was long behind him, it still haunted him – especially in times of war. It wasn’t easy to forget those who were killed, but he still had to do his job. “Wilson! Get over here!” he ordered.

A lieutenant with short, naturally spiky brown hair was already pushing his way through the troops, holding a small first aid kit in his hand. Once he reached the collapsed man, he checked the body for wounds, sprains, weak spots, and anything else that might be relevant to the patient’s health.

Despite the fact that a large part of the invading forces were in the middle of the burning fort, fighting was still going on. There were some other prisoners, but mostly the Nimbians lay dead or dying on the ground, corpses catching fire from the already burning buildings. Every structure in the fort was made of a dry wood; they caught the flames easily. It was no surprise that the whole place was on fire – the fort would be useless now.

Disturbed by the sight and scent of burning flesh, Kevin Taylor turned his attention back to Flamel and the doctor just as Wilson checked the Sergeant’s eyes. Kevin didn’t get to see what the problem was, but he found out soon enough.

Dennis Wilson’s brown eyes widened in shock, gaping in horror at his patient before yelling urgently, “Someone get some water! Quickly!” One of the soldiers that was still there – many of the troops had started to head back to their own camp, leaving the smoking fort behind – ran off to get the liquid. Edging forward, Kevin gasped as he saw the soldier’s face and he closed his eyes tightly, stepping back away from the two. Even though he wasn’t looking at the scene, he couldn’t get the image out of his mind.

Flamel’s eyes were red, and a dark red at that. Thick blood covered them completely, spilling out in small rivulets down his cheeks. His eyelids twitched slightly but didn’t close completely. Someone came back with a bucket of water and the Brigadier General drew an array on it, cleansing the water. Kevin wasn’t watching, but he saw the grimaces and winces on Oiseau’s face.

However, there was still yet another problem to deal with. Nicholas Flamel was an enemy soldier, even if he was wounded. A few Amestrians were frowning at the sight of one of their own treating a rival, but they patiently awaited orders from Mustang. Kevin was no exception, but he did care about Flamel’s health. The Lieutenant wasn’t a cruel person by any means; if he saw someone in pain, he had to help them or else he’d feel guilty later on. But Flamel… the poor guy’s eyes were bleeding! What could he do for that?

Forcing his attention back to said man, he was relieved to see some gauze wrapped over the black-haired soldier’s eyes. Following the rest of the troops back out of the fort and into the camp, he dragged along a stunned Oiseau and silently hoped for the short hostage to be all right.

Mesquin Oiseau sat in his dark cell, occasionally glancing worriedly over at his friend. Nicholas hadn’t awakened since they had arrived at the Amestrian military’s main fort, and according to the Dr Wilson, his condition wasn’t much better. The doctor seemed to want him to get better, but nothing he did was working so far. Not that he was in bad condition; Nick just refused to awaken. His eyes were perfectly fine - at least, they appeared that way. It was impossible to tell what had caused the bleeding.

But if they knew just who he was, thought Mesquin, they’d be putting all their effort into helping him regain consciousness... and finding out just what had happened.

He finally decided to start eating his provided dinner: a small sandwich and a glass of water. Removing the chicken from between the bread yet leaving the lettuce leaf where it was, the vegetarian bit into the sandwich, holding it with one hand and digging through his pockets with the other. He pulled out a picture, one that he had been able to accept as reality over the past few days.

Oiseau started cleaning out his and Flamel's house. He was a neat freak, and any of his friends could account for that. Not that he had many friends…

After straightening the sheets on his bed, he moved to Nick’s side of the room. As he lifted the pillow to fluff it, he saw a flash of color fall off the bed and bent down to retrieve it. Picking it up, he realized that it was a photo, and took a moment to absorb the picture.

It showed a golden-eyed blond youth – easily identified as Edward Elric - standing in front of a Christmas tree, with a very recognizable Brigadier General standing next to him. The... interesting... thing was that they were both standing under some hanging mistletoe... and the younger alchemist looked as if he was about to kiss the elder one. From the position they were in, it wasn't very difficult to imagine. Though, why ever would he want to-…

Something clicked in the sergeant's mind, and he pulled out his own picture of Nick. Sure enough, both photos had the exact same eyes and expression. His early suspicions were confirmed: Nicholas Flamel and Edward Elric were one and the same. And if Edward liked Roy Mustang, then...

...then Mesquin had been sharing a room with a gay guy.

His face blanched in both fear and embarrassment, and he began to stammer out nonsense to himself before he heard the door creak on its hinges. Shoving the picture into his pocket and replacing the pillow, he turned around to come face-to-face with none other than Nicholas Flamel (who suddenly seemed much shorter than he actually was).

Forcing a smile onto his face, the estranged man hid his discomfort and backed into the kitchen to allow Nick – Edward, his mind supplied – some space to walk into. Ignoring the inquiring look, Mesquin grabbed some food and started to put together a meat-free meal for himself.

Sighing as his initial confusion on Edward’s orientation returned, his eyes returned to the young man in the cell next to his, sleeping soundly on a small cot. How could that be the same reckless teen he had heard so much about? How could that be the famed Fullmetal Alchemist, lying there so weakly?

A new question entered his mind the next day after Edward had awakened.

How could that be the invincible Colonel of Amestris, unable to see out of his own two eyes?

Probably won’t update again until July fifth, as I leave for England in eleven days and return then. Also, an excuse as to why my updates might take longer: I’m writing an original fiction story, which may hopefully eventually become a novel (nowhere in the near future, though). Plus, I’ve gotten back into Bleach and Zelda… any questions?

Link to the Christmas picture is on my profile. I wrote the scene, and then Chibi mentioned that she had drawn a picture similar to that a while ago xD Flashback was s'posed to be a drabble on the side, but it fit in here.

Beta: FHT. She makes me post before The Autumn Alchemist can beta. If TAA betas, this document shall be replaced with her beta'd version. Because FHT is useless and never feels like fixing anything. But she has pocky.

FHT: I like short. It's like Ed, only ... written. xD
Anyways. Beeeautifully written, as per always. I love it. :)
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