Chapter Text
Of course it had to be him.
Out of all of the thousands of people living in Central city, the massive, burning building just had to collapse on him.
And of course, one of said building’s giant support beams just had to fall straight on top of him, pinning his legs to the ground, Leaving him trapped in what could only be described as a cave of flaming debris.
Edward found himself wondering which God he had pissed off to earn such a punishment. He was trying as hard as possible to be angry at the situation, but it was hard to feel bitter under the aching throbbing pain that jolted up his legs and through his spine whenever he -god forbid- tried to move!
Though he couldn’t bend back enough to see clearly, Edward was fairly sure his Automail leg was smashed to bits under the beam, judging from the sparks of pain and agony coming from his port. He wasn’t sure that his flesh leg was in much better shape (Though, maybe mercifully, his right leg seemed to be completely numb from the hips down)
This entire goddamn situation was awful.
The hollowed out cave that he lay under was bathed in angry flames that licked at his face, smoke, and god knows what else, was making its way down Edwards throat and into his lungs with every thin, reedy breath he managed to heave out. It made him cough thickly, and the coughing jolted the beam, in turn sending more sparks of agony up his spine. It was a viscous cycle.
The discomfort and pain had long since worn out his usual stoic nonchalance, and Edward found himself getting more and more anxious as the time went on. The longer he lay there, numb and hot and shivering, the harder it was to push down the approaching fear, Ed wished dearly that Alphonse was there beside him.
The room was getting hotter, and the weird pain in his legs seemed to flicker, edging between borderline unbearable and completely numb. While Edward was far from a medical professional, he knew enough about human anatomy to understand that not being in pain in this kind of situation, was more concerning than the alternative.
It was eerily silent in his little debris cave, the hissing of the flames and his own labored breathing was lost to his ears, which he strained desperately, tying to detect any kind of sounds from outside, any sign that someone was coming.
But there was nothing, nothing but fire and creaking metal and his own fear.
It was getting harder to breath…
and no one was coming…
oh god… no one was coming.
…He couldn’t think like that, Colonel bastard would’ve seen by now that he was missing, the building collapsing would surely be all over the the news, and surely others had been trapped in the fall, someone had to be coming, Mustang had to be coming.
He’d be here soon,
he had to be, he had to.
Because if he didn't...
Ed would die, alone, and hurt, while god stared down from above in indifference, and laughed.
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“What do you mean Fullmetal is missing!?” Roy screamed into the phone at the poor Sargent on the other line who had delivered the news. The young man, probably fresh out of the academy, stuttered as he tried to explain. Roy could feel bad for yelling later, when all of his subordinates were accounted for, but not now, not when his alchemist was missing somewhere.
“I-I'm sorry, Colonel sir, we have people out looking, we suspect he’s gotten caught up in the old block of offices that burnt down in the west of the city, Sir” The young Sargent squeaked out.
Roy felt his heart go cold and dread run down his spine.
Edward was a stoic, stubborn bastard with a hero complex, and as much as Roy hated to admit it, It came as absolutely no surprise that the little shit was right where the burning building was, because of course he was.
Roy all but growled, slamming the receiver down on its cradle hard enough to crack the phone, and barked orders at his team, Hawkeye was stood to attention immediately, face hard and emotionless, looking more composed than Roy had probably ever felt in his life. It was times like these when Roy was infinitely glad that Riza Hawkeye was on his side.
In under half an hour, Mustang, Hawkeye, and Havoc, were out the doors of HQ, heading towards the sight of the accident. Roy felt a sudden surge of anger towards whoever had put off taking a wrecking ball to the building before it inevitably set itself on fire and collapsed on top of innocent people.
Innocent people like Edward, who was just a kid.
The scene when they arrived was a sight to behold. The offices were unrecognizable, nothing but a pile of flaming steel and glass, old wires twisted crudely around debris as they sparked. What was once a twelve story high building, had crumbled into two, barely standing floors, stacked on top of each other like a Jenga tower seconds away from completely collapsing.
There were fire engines and police cars parked outside, police tape created a wide perimeter between the building and the onlookers. Officers guarded the entrances with serious faces, speaking into walkie talkies. There were ambulances dotted around the area, paramedics and rescue workers spoke in hushed tones in groups, but no one was going anywhere near the building, no one was helping.
By now, news had gotten out about Fullmetal’s disappearance, and all it took was one shop keeper confirming the boys presence around the building, and dozens of military personal had flocked the scene, searching around the area and in the piles of debris outside of the building, and yet no one had gone inside.
The brass was in shambles, ordering people to find the Fullmetal Alchemist, desperate to have their favorite pubic figure alive and safe, it was clear how important the boy was for their publicity, and they weren’t keen on having their best soldier smushed under a pile of rubble.
Roy had walked up to one of the officers guarding the yellow taped outline of the rubble, and while he hadn’t expected much resistance from the young man, he was surprised at how quickly the tape was pulled aside for him, he was sure the murderous look on his face and the glint of his pocket watch was to blame for that.
Roy felt the pit of dread expand in his chest the second they entered the building, the bottom floor was probably the most stable area of the mess and yet even so, its walls were crumbled, and windows shattered, dust and rubble dripped from the ceiling and the concrete floor was cracked in places.
What worried Roy the most was the fire.
How delightfully Ironic.
he had seen the damage that flames could do to the human body, and how toxic fumes could fuck with a man’s lungs, and Edward was just a boy, Roy estimated that if the kid was in fact trapped in here somewhere, he had very little time before not even he could save him.
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Ed was really starting to panic now, he had no clue how long he had been trapped but it seemed like forever, like he had been here for days or weeks or months, and yet he knew that wasn’t possible, it can’t have been that long, surely…
He had no way of knowing, but the longer he lay on the dusty floor, the more his body ached and the more he felt like crying. The more he wished he was back at Risembool, with Winry and Alphonse, waving his little brother’s train off as the boy left for his research trip to xhing. But instead, he was here, slowly being eaten alive by fire, lying on the concrete floor as his lungs steadily filled up with smoke.
Unfortunately, despite not knowing how much time has passed, It had been long enough for the shock to ware off, and everything he had felt before was now amplified tenfold. His Automail leg was surely smashed to pieces, exposed wires sending shocks and sparks through his ports and into his stump. It burnt too, his Automail was built to be durable, but it wasn't supposed to withstand constant heat like this, and the skin around his ports felt hot and blistered.
Every now and then the situation would dawn fresh on Eds mind, terror and pain overwhelming him, the smell of burnt hair and the thick black mucus he kept coughing up that made his throat ache, the feel of the bones in his flesh leg that were so obviously out of place, so wrong, shattered, the shards digging into his flesh.
It hurt.
But the thing Ed hated most of all, was how much he wanted Mustang, that bastard, Ed just wanted him here, to tell him it would all be okay, to get him out and take him back home where everything would be right again. He tried to tell himself that he just wanted someone, that it didn't have to be the Colonel, that anyone would do, But that wasn't true, and Ed was to tired to lie, even if it was just to himself.
Realistically, Ed knew he needed to stay awake, that not falling asleep was crucial to his survival, especially since he most definitely had one hell of a concussion, but god, he was so tired.
Every breath took too much effort, and his breathing had slowed into shallow pants, his head pressed against the floor, teeth gritted, tears in the corners of his eyes, and most of his effort was spent trying to keep them from slipping closed.
He knew he had to stay awake, but the alternative had never looked so sweet, and sleep was tugging at his weary mind.