Morphed

Chapter Twenty Five Part One

There is nothing left of you
I can see it in your eyes
Sing the anthem of the angels
And say the last goodbye
I keep holding onto you
But I can't bring you back to life
Sing the anthem of the angels
Then say the last goodbye

~Anthem Of The Angels (Breaking Benjamin)

./././././.

Edward ran like the entire world depended on his speed.

He become aware at some point that he'd shifted into his wolf form and was sprinting on four legs through the streets of Central. The world blurred around him, and if people screamed at the sight of him, if women hid their children for fear of him, then he noticed none of it. His mind echoed with what Lust had told him, and he'd been frozen in place for all of two seconds before he screamed at her, demanding to know where, and, oh God, he had to get there before Gracia got home, had to get there before her day out with the kids ended, had to -

No! He would not think about that. He was going to make it, dammit, he was going to get there and save Hughes if the man hadn't already saved himself, because he could not think about the alternatives. He couldn't.

He'd left Lust as she was, pinned to the ground by his knife and spear, but he doubted she'd be there if he returned. But that didn't matter right now. Hughes, had to get to Hughes -

He passed a pair of MP officers and leaped over them as they scrabbled for their guns, already out of range by the time they could pull their triggers. He roared and pushed himself harder, faster. At some point he almost crashed into a group of blue-clad officers, and he shifted, clapping his hands as he dropped to the ground and pulled back a steel club. In a whirl of steel and red and gold he'd taken them all down, and he dropped the weapon, sprinting forward. He didn't have time to fight, dammit.

He ran a corner and shoved his hands out and twisted to the side to avoid running smack into Mustang, and before he could even say anything Edward screamed. "Get out of my way!" He didn't register the shock on Mustang's face right away, just kept running, but something in his face must have been enough for his guardian, because he made no objections, just ran after him. At some point Mustang must have realised where Ed was heading, because through his peripheral vision Ed noticed Mustang randomly start pushing himself harder.

Ed shifted back into his wolf form, tearing what little remained of his clothes. Pieces of fabric still clung to his body, but he didn't care if he lost them. He leaped forward and Mustang fell far behind him as his speed increased exponentially. Up ahead, the building came into view, and his vision narrowed down to Gracia, Elicia and Alphonse walking towards the apartment building, faces jovial. When they noticed him Elicia screamed and clutched her mother, who froze. Al's mouth dropped. When he was barely meters from them he shifted.

"STAY AWAY!" He screamed, running into the building and shifting again, his wolf form bounding up the stairs to Maes' floor. His heart stopped and he slipped back into his human form; the door was open, the lock busted.

The floor was silent. He threw himself into the entryway and stopped cold.

God, the blood, it was everywhere!

The crimson liquid stained the floor, the walls, the furniture, all of it.

"Maes?" He squeaked.

He followed the blood trail in a daze, his mind screaming impossibilities at him. A jolt passed through him when he found that the trail led to the room he'd once shared with Al, and oh God now it really was staining everything, and he pushed the slightly ajar door open further and -

Oh, God!

- he turned and threw up, a mix of blood and bile from his empty stomach hitting the floor. His ears rang and his head pounded as he wiped the blood from his lips and entered the room again. He vaguely registered footsteps thundering up the stairs. Mustang must have caught up with him.

But the sight...blood was pooled at the floor, at the foot of his bed, his bed, which Al had never taken out of the room. And atop the bed was...was...

Maes.

His body was sprawled, facing towards the ceiling. His blue uniform was ripped to shreds and his skin had been mutilated. His face was twisted with pain, his eyes open and as unseeing as the moment the life had left his body. "No.."

"NO!" A scream tore it's way from his throat and his knees gave out, just as Mustang made it to the door. He didn't hear - or see - how Mustang reacted, because his ears were ringing so loud he thought they might be bleeding, and all he could look at was the corpse of the man who had been more of a father to him than his own blood. Tears sprang in his eyes and he didn't stop them. Maes was dead, and Ed didn't know what to do. He could vaguely hear Mustang, shouting and screaming and running out of the room, but all he could think was that Maes had died angry at him. Died thinking Ed had lied to him. He had spent his final moments in Ed's old room, dying on the bed Ed had once slept in, and he had done all that thinking Ed didn't trust him.

The next thing he knew a pair of arms were lifting him to his feet, and Hawkeye was there, her brown eyes blurred by tears, and her lips were moving, she was speaking to him, but he didn't hear a single word she said. She began to steer him away, to make him leave, and he pulled from her grip, screaming, trying to get to Maes, but she was screaming too, crying too, but she was trying to keep him away and he didn't want to leave, couldn't leave. How could he leave? How could he leave Maes here like this, bloodied and dead and mutilated, his ruined body laying on his bed in his brother's room?

And God above, he was going to have to tell Al. Going to have to tell Gracia and Elicia and Al that the greatest man on earth had died in the room of his adopted son, that the man they all idolised and who had idolised them had been torn to pieces inside the walls of their own home.

No. No! He was still screaming, still trying to break free from Hawkeye's iron grip, and he vaguely registered the rest of Mustang's team entering the room, each with their own expression of horror, but he couldn't stop crying. His mind was screaming just as loudly as his voice, screaming at him that he'd done this, that this was his fault. He didn't even know how the fault could be his yet but he knew it was, everything was always his fault, every mistake was always his, and Maes' death...that was on him.

He tore free from Hawkeye's grip at last, only to be grabbed by both arms by her and Havoc, and the noise he made was not human and then he screamed again.

"Maes!

"Maes!

"MAES!

"DAAAAAD!"

And at last, he let them drag him away. Away from the sight of it. He sagged, all the fight he possessed as dead as the man who'd been his father.