Cowboy Bebop Fan Fiction / Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Gotta Knock a Little Harder ❯ No Vacation from the Blues ( Chapter 3 )

No Vacation from the Blues

 

And I can run but I can't hide; From the pain I feel inside; And there's no one but myself left to accuse ~ Travis Tritt (Ten Feet Tall and Bullet Proof)

 

 

By the time Jet and McKenna managed to stumble out of the bay, and onto the runway part of the deck, the ship stopped lurching. Jet didn't need to see what was happening at this point to know the Bebop was in water now, and floating free on the current.

 

He saw Ed sitting on the ground, looking tired. Healed ground, he corrected himself. He knew then what had happened. Ed had fixed the impact scars from the wreck, and pushed the ship back into the river at the same time. That had to take a lot of energy, he thought.

 

An armored hand grabbed him by the arm, and jerked him backwards. Jet spun to find himself face to face with Al.

 

“Look out,” the boy said, and pointed.

 

A huge hook on a heavy chain flew up, and landed on the deck. Right where Jet had just been standing. It slid back to the bow of the ship, and settled around one of the mooring posts. The ship lurched again, and started to swing its nose downriver. Jet cautiously stepped forward, and looked out over the side. Armstrong was shirtless, and shouldering the immense chain. Every muscle in his back and arms was popping and flexing as the giant steered the ship from shore, and settled it next to the dock.

 

Jet just stared.

 

The Bebop lurched a little as it was brought to a stop, and Armstrong used the chain to stay it. The giant leapt onto the dock and saluted Jet. “It's safe to weigh anchor now, Mr. Black.”

 

[1.1.1.1]

 

McKenna had little to offer in the way of assistance, while Al and Armstrong were raising the solar panels. Jet, at least, was supervising. So in an effort to make herself at least marginally useful, she decided cleaning was in order. She was grateful for the assistance of Ross and Brosh, too. It meant the scattered debris all over the place would get put where it belonged that much faster. She knew Ed was somewhere on the ship, doing minor Alchemical repairs which slipped past his first pass.

 

She was privately amazed at the job he did in the first place. A spaceship is a complicated object. It stands to reason there would have to be some fine-tuning. But she couldn't shake the feeling that he was quite annoyed with himself when he discovered the first of several small repairs that he'd missed.

 

Any other Alchemist would take it as a matter of course. But not Ed. She sighed, and shook her head, as she dunked the mop into the soapy water. He comes by it honest, though.

 

McKenna had the sudden feeling she was being watched. She spun, and found Ed standing near the entrance from the bay. He was staring down at her, and scowling. Well, here it comes, she thought.

 

She set the mop back in the bucket, and faced him with her arms crossed. “Not that I need to justify myself to you, but I didn't steal your father away from you, or your mother.”

 

The look on the boy's face didn't change. McKenna knew he didn't believe her. She shrugged, and went back to mopping. “Suit yourself,” she said.

 

“So how did you know him?” Ed asked after a long pause.

 

She just kept mopping, and not even looking at him. “He saved my life, once. I was…” She stopped, searching for the right word. “Grateful.”

 

“Did you love him?”

 

She heard the thickness in the boy's voice and looked at him. He was stiff as a board, and his hands were clenched at his sides. Barely controlled anguish filled his big golden eyes. He's his father's son. God, they look so much alike. Something tugged at her heart, and she wanted nothing more than to tell him everything. But she knew she didn't dare.

 

Would it make a difference if you knew why he disappeared from your life, Edward Elric? Would you go looking for him, then? Or would you hate him more? Would you even be able to understand he had to leave?

 

“I suppose I loved him,” she said. “The way a patient loves her physician.”

 

Ed nodded, and turned to leave.

 

“If it's any consolation,” she said to his retreating back. Ed hesitated, but didn't face her. “He never loved me. He loved your mother, though.”

 

“If he loved her,” Ed whispered. “Why did he leave?”

 

“I can't answer that, Ed.”

 

He looked back over his shoulder at her. “Can't? Or won't?”

 

“I left here before their wedding.” But the words just fell on empty space. Ed had already walked out.

 

McKenna went back to mopping, but she was starting to feel shaky. She passed it off as emotional. She never did like confrontations. This was why she tried to avoid them as much as possible.

 

But the feeling only increased, and began to center around her solar plexis. She groaned softly as her abdomen began to vibrate, then phased out into a million tiny particles. It spread outward, reached a point where it stopped, then snapped back into place. “No,” she whispered. “Not now. Not yet.”

 

[2.2.2.2]

 

The rest of the day was spent getting the solar panels up and positioned. But that involved Al and Armstrong. The two of them were up on the top of the ship, just outside the open hatch doing the worst of the grunt work. Again, Jet was struck with a feeling of uselessness. All he could do was supervise, and handle the guide ropes. He was grateful for the help, but he was happiest when he was elbow-deep in the work, himself.

 

He had little clue what McKenna, Ross and Brosh were up to, but he knew Ed was here and there, mending little things. He noticed that Spike was conspicuously absent, though. Wonder if Aunt Pinako is keeping him occupied?

 

Along about the time the final solar panel was raised and seated, the other four had straggled into the panel storage room. They all looked a mess, and smelled of cleaning solvents. Jet also noticed that there was a distinct distance between Ed and McKenna that went beyond mere physical space. He decided that it wasn't his place to try to resolve that one, though. But they need to come to some kind of civil arrangement, he thought. We need that kid, and I don't want him storming off in a fit of pique.

 

Armstrong and Al dropped down through the hatch, and Jet hooked up the main feed to the cells.

 

There was a moment of abated breath from everyone, and then lights started flickering on all over the ship.

 

The group erupted with cheers that echoed off the metal walls, and increased the volume.

 

There was a crackle, and sparks, followed by the smell of burning insulation. Then the lights went out. Groans followed.

 

“Dammit,” Jet said as he disconnected the cable to the cells.

 

Ed came up to him, and said, “May I?”

 

Jet shook his head, and said. “Not today. We're all dead on our feet. It's time to knock off.”

 

“Besides, dinner is ready,” Spike said, from the doorway.

 

[3.3.3.3]

 

Dinner had been unusually subdued, Ed noticed. Everyone's beat, he thought. Bet they would all be in a better mood if the lights had stayed on, though. He wanted to be annoyed at Jet for staying his hand earlier, but a huge yawn escaped, and he decided that maybe the older man was right.

 

He watched the two strangers interact with each other, sharing some inside joke, and the wonderment of it all hit him again. Ships, that travel through space, he thought. What kind of life that must be! Advanced technology, without Alchemy. Things seemed so different between their world and his, but he saw that as people, they really weren't all that different.

 

He thought about how Major Armstrong had helped with setting up the solar panels, and how he'd pushed the Bebop back into the water, and wondered how people from their world had managed to even reach the stars without Alchemy. The very idea seemed impossible. And words between them that sounded so alien. Words like computer, and satellite. It must be like trying to describe colour to someone who was born blind, he thought. It occurred to him then, that must have been the same thing going through their minds, when he tried to explain Alchemy to them.

 

And then there's Brianne McKenna, he thought. The bridge between both worlds, it seemed. She's lived here, but they found her, there. He didn't trust her, but he had to admit he couldn't hate her. Even if she did know his father.

 

He noticed she was no longer in the room, and thought she might have wandered outside. He was curious about her. Maybe now would be a good time, he thought, and went looking for her.

 

She wasn't on the porch, but he looked up into the distance and caught sight of a little flicker of light he was certain was her. He followed.

 

[4.4.4.4]

 

Ed found McKenna in the lounge area of the Bebop. She was down on her knees, between the couch and chair, struggling to pry open a box with a crowbar.

 

“What the hell are you doing?”

 

She started and dropped the bar. The lamp on the floor cast her face in a sinister light, making her look demonic. But her voice belayed that impression.

 

“Edward, please help me,” she whispered. She was hunched over, looking ready to pounce, until Ed realized she was hugging herself around the abdomen.

 

He bounded over the rail into the lower deck, and knelt down next to her. Now that he was closer to her, he could see she was in distress. Sweat poured down her face, and she was shaking. “You're sick,” he said. He started to get up. “Let me get Aunt Pinako.”

 

She grabbed his flesh arm, and stopped him. “No. What I need…is in a vial. In the safe.”

 

A wave of revulsion shot through him, and he jerked his arm free. She dropped down with her hands on the deck, and her face hidden by her thick red hair. “I'm not going to help you with your addiction,” he said.

 

“If you don't…Jet and Spike…will never get home,” she said.

 

Ed had never really encountered anyone with a serious drug addiction, before. He knew it existed, and sometimes an addict will do outrageous things to get the drug of choice, but he couldn't believe what he was hearing. “Sa-sabotage?”

 

McKenna shook her head, then groaned and grabbed her abdomen. In the process, she fell over to her side, and curled up in a fetal position.

 

He could still see something was very wrong, as the light of excited particles grew bright, and spread out. It snapped back, and dimmed as quickly as it had started.

 

He just stared at her in silence a moment. He didn't know what to do. He wasn't even sure if this was part of the addiction, or something else altogether.

 

She slowly sat up, and said, “The Red Eye… keeps me stable.”

 

“Who are you?”

 

Instead of answering, she spun away from him, and vomited on the deck. Horror sung through every fiber of Ed when he saw the spent red stones splatter all over the floor.

 

“You're… a homunculus?!”

 

She shivered, and shook her head. She stayed crouched over, holding her abdomen, and looked back at him. “No. I'm a… `traveler'.” She waved toward the box. “Please.”

 

“But those stones—“

 

She came up from her crouched position, snagged Ed by the lapels; yanking him brutally down to his knees, and on her level. “I'll explain it after you get me the goddamn Red Eye,” she said. “Now unless you want to be responsible for those men being trapped in a place they don't belong for the rest of their lives, I suggest you shut up, and do as you're told.”

 

Ed's eyes went wide, and he felt his face get hot. A million questions, and warning bells went off in his head. He weighed the arguments against his own moral code, and came out even. In an instant, he decided he would open the safe under protest, and shoved her hands off of him in disgust.

 

He hesitated a moment, then opened the box using Alchemy. The only thing in it was a test tube sized vial with dark red liquid in it. He assumed that was the Red Eye she was wanting and picked it up.

 

After she sprayed a portion of the contents into her eyes, she was visibly calmer. It didn't ease his own feeling that he'd possibly made the wrong decision, though.

 

After a moment, he asked again, “Who are you?”

 

 

[5.5.5.5]

 

Jet knew he should be trying to get some sleep, but he just couldn't. The situation they were in had the side-effect of creating some major insomnia. He couldn't shut off the thoughts swirling around inside his head, even if he tried. So he found himself back on the Bebop, and making plans to go through the Hammerhead's systems. He figured if he couldn't work on the ship, proper, he could at least get one of the smaller craft working. It would be one less thing to worry about later.

 

As he reached the top of the ladder into the Hammerhead, he noticed the oil lamp he was carrying wasn't the only light shining in the Bebop. From the doorway leading into the lounge area, he saw another weak light. He went to check it out.

 

He ducked and climbed through the double hatchway, and saw Ed sitting in the chair. His head was down, and his long bangs covered his face. He was staring at something in his hands. Something in the boy's demeanor worried him. It's almost like he's…ashamed.

 

When he reached Ed's side, he saw McKenna reclined on the couch. She looked to be sleeping peacefully. He knew Ed was aware of his presence, when he saw him clasp his hand closed, hiding what was in it.

 

“Ed?”

 

The boy looked up at Jet, the huge gold eyes were full of sadness, and shame.

 

“What's wrong,” Jet asked.

 

Ed just looked back down at his hands. He hesitated a little, then opened his palm, and held it out to Jet. In it was the vial of Red Eye he'd taken off of McKenna when he'd brought her aboard. But it was no longer full.

 

Jet took the vial, and clenched his jaw. “What did she do to you, Ed?”

 

The boy shook his head. “Nothing.”

 

Rage started to fill the older man. “Of all the goddamn, bloody stupid things—“ He shut up when he saw the boy wince as if he'd been beaten.

 

“Ed, why?!”

 

“Because you and Spike wouldn't get back home,” Ed whispered. He glanced past Jet.

 

The man followed the line of the boy's sight, and saw a fresh mess on the deck. The red stones scattered through it told him who left it. He sighed, and rubbed his head.

 

“Okay, fill me in,” he said as he sat down on the box they used as a table more often than as a safe. He casually dropped the vial in the hole Ed had left when he broke in.

 

“Those stones,” Ed said, nodding toward the mess on the floor. ”They're incomplete Philosopher's Stones. And they're losing their charge. Apparently, my… father… gave them to her.”