Author's Note: Yes, I have finally updated. I hope you all enjoy! Read and Review!

-Spartan-458

Chapter Five: Two Sides to Every Tale

0 0 Lynn's POV 0 0

The first time I saw him; I wanted to just walk on and leave the damn state alchemist in his own blood. It would be a nice change since it was usually others that were soaked in their own blood, but Kendra wouldn't let me do it, not even if I had truly wanted to.

"Lynn!" she shouted at me, her hands placed on her hips.

I wish I could've acted like I didn't hear her. It would've made this hell of a lot easier, but hey, that's me. "Screw the easy road and give me a dirt bike," that's what Kendra always said about me.

I finally turned around, shaking my head, "We can't!"

"Look at him! The poor man's covered in his own blood for crying out loud!" Kendra spat at me.

I finally sighed. There's one thing you have to understand about my little city of Kingston. People reside here from all over the world, various cultures, and societies. The only reason the village can band together so well is that one thing we all have in common. Everyone in this town has either lost or felt the effects of the wars in someway or another. All this grief was the only thing that held this town together until slowly over time it turn to guilt, then to blame, and then finally to hatred. The military is despised and hated throughout the town with a vehemence like no other. It was so bad here that if I was caught associating with the military, I might as well pack up and move. Yeah, it was that bad.

So my question: why the hell am I helping some guy I have no idea who he is? He could be some convicted serial murderer for all I knew. Unfortunately, I didn't have much of an answer, yet somehow I just couldn't leave him laying there.

He looked so pathetic there. His blood had pooled around him, making his once white, crisp shirt a black as it mixed with the grim from the street. His blonde hair was a mess, laying lazily over his face. I blinked, realizing that a blood trail led back to an alley which I suspected where he came from. Shit, what had happened to him?

"So you do have a conscience, huh?" Kendra smirked at me.

Kendra was one of my closest friends. She had naturally blonde hair that was trimmed to rest just below her shoulders, though at the moment it was pulled back. Her eyes were a soft chocolate full of ambition. Out of all of us, she'd go the furthest, I could tell. She had the drive, something that I lacked at the moment.

Her top was that of a simple pink tank top with a black mini skirt. My outfit varied little from her own, mostly because she helped me pick it out. I wore a form fitting light blue spaghetti-strapped top with a short khaki skirt, however she won for showing off the most leg. How she bends over and doesn't manage to flash anyone still amazes me. Well to make it short, it was late and we were on our way home from a party we had just attended, that was when we came across him.

"Shut up Kendra and help me out," I muttered as I knelt down, ignoring the fact I was in his blood.

Kendra had decided to wait at the edge of it. I could careless. I placed my fingers upon his slim neck and there it was, his pulse beating steady.

"Well, he's alive at least." I spoke as I gently rolled him over.

"Nice to know…" she trailed off, her voice full of concern.

I don't see why she was getting all sad over this guy, we didn't even know who he was! Besides I mean…my thoughts were completely interrupted as I looked at his face. I felt my breath catch as I realized this man had to only be a year, maybe two, older than me. It was a scary concept.

"Check his pockets, maybe there is some identification." Kendra suggested as she gestured form the "sidelines."

"Why am I doing all the dirty work?" I asked as I dug through his pant's pockets.

"What if he wakes up?" she smirked.

Thanks…I knew she was only joking but still…I shook my head when I felt something cool against my palm.

It felt like something metallic and something was carved upon it. I slipped it out and both of us felt our jaw drop. He's a state alchemist! If I was caught helping him….I could only imagine what would happen to me.

"Why? Why is the one time you want to start racking up brownie points you have to pick a state alchemist!?" I snapped bitterly, my own hatred coming into play.

"Shut it, Lynn," she held my gaze with a flashing anger of her own. "You and the whole damn town needs to just shut it." I had never seen her as serious as she was at that moment. "I don't care if he's theFuhrer, himself, he's alive and laying in his own blood. We're helping him."

I glared at her and she held it until finally I gave in. I wasn't about to have a staring contest in the middle of the street on a night like this.

"Fine, help me get him up." I glared.

I grabbed his right arm only to pause. I couldn't feel any warmth through the shirt and it was harder than any rock I had touched before. I immediately pulled back the sleeve and stared. Automail…right arm.

"Oh you have got to be kidding me…" I looked at him once more and it all made sense.

"What?" Kendra blinked as she gently slung his left arm over her shoulder.

"I know who this is," I stated as I took the same metallic arm and placed it over my shoulders.

It must have been comical if you had seen us for Kendra was much taller than me, so the poor guy was slightly lop-sided as we dragged him down the street.

"It's Fullmetal…" I spat.

"Fullmetal?!" she tried her best to glance at the man's face however, his head had slumped forward making it impossible to see. "The Fullmetal? The war hero?" she blinked in the shock.

"Yeah," I nodded.

I should've been a lot more startled, but I wasn't. In my opinion, he got what he deserved, especially if he was a state alchemist. The military was at the top of my hate list to say the least.

"Wow…what is he doing here and like this?" she asked glancing at him once more.

"Hell if I know, I found him just like you," I snapped at her.

She blinked at me as if to say, "god, what did I do to you?" In fact, she had done nothing I was just bitter. Okay, so I was very bitter…leave me alone.

"Sorry, Kendra, it's just…hey, where are we going?" I cocked an eyebrow realizing that her house in the countryside was in the opposite direction.

"Your apartment, of course!" she smiled all too sweetly. It made me sick.

"WHAT!?!" She had to be kidding. I was going to take this weird man into my apartment!? Was she trying to kill me?

"Relax we'll just throw him on the couch," Kendra waved me off the best she could do without dropping him.

"Ah thanks, he's an alchemist Kendra. Locks won't stop him, nor anyone else for that matter." The truth was if he really wanted in to my room all he would have to do is kick the door down. It was a flimsy knob lock and the chain wouldn't do any good.

"Oh he looks like he's really going to come after you," she rolled her eyes.

Okay, she had me there. He was soaked in his own bloody and not even conscious.

It was a miracle we finally reached my duplex without having anyone stopping us. Someone was obviously watching out for us…but why?

I unlocked my shop which was on the lower half of the duplex. I own top and bottom, but we call it my duplex/apartment, only because I consider the lower half strictly store. Upstairs is my little "apartment." It's pretty cramped, my family room and kitchen are joined. In one room, there was a couch and a wooden desk with a chair and a book case. The other room held a stove, oven, and etc. There is one door which leads to my bedroom and from that a bathroom. Hey, it was made for only one person give me a break.

The three of use stumbled in, Kendra kicking the door to close it behind us. Now the stairs…dear god. It was amazing we didn't drop him down the stairs, which we almost did at one point…

We were almost there when Kendra had slipped not getting a good foothold on one step. She immediately let go of him so as not to pull him down with her. Smart move, except one thing, that left little ol' me with all his weight.

"Holy-!" I shouted staggering upon the top of the stairs this man practically laying on me. It was all I could manage to not fall over, that was when I heard Kendra's laughter.

"Kendra! Get up and help me here!" I shouted at her.

She did so, still laughing, "You better be happy he's pretty short, otherwise you'd probably have been crushed."

"What is with these midget jokes tonight?" I sighed.

I got bashed constantly for my stature at the party, annoying as it was. We finally made it through my door into my "place." It was a little place meant for one, though two wouldn't be bad. I had even added a rug to my wooden floor in the living room to make it a little more homey. What was I saying? There wouldn't be two for long.

We staggered, happy to get rid of our load upon the couch. We both let out a puff, our arms killing us for dragging him all the way here. Hey, you try taking him up my flight of stairs and see how easy it is!

"Well, as much fun as that was," Kendra started placing her hands on her hips, "I've got to go."

"What? Why?" I exclaimed.

Seriously, she was leaving me here with him!? Some friend she was.

"Yeah, but you're a big girl Lynn, you can take care of yourself. Besides I'm a mess," she gestured to her top which was now smeared with blood and dirt.

Yeah well, I wasn't in much better shape for I placed my hands on my hips as if to say, "that's no excuse." She chose to ignore it however.

"I'll check in with you two tomorrow. Don't get too wild and crazy," she winked at me as she departed.

What? Oh yeah, wild and crazy. Me? She had to be kidding. "All right Fullmetal, you better be listening because I'm only going to say…this…once…" with Kendra gone I was free to notice things that I hadn't seen before.

Staring down at him, I finally realized how injured he was. A great knot was forming upon one of his cheeks. It was swelling badly, stating he had been hit quick and hard. If it hurt as much as it looked…I winced.

That was it, I immediately went into what my friends call, "Nurse Judy" mode. I grabbed a ponytail holder to place my light brown hair up. It wasn't until this moment did I finally get to see how bad a shape I was in. My slightly tanned complex was smudged with dirt and his blood. My gray eyes stared back astonished at the mess I had become. Ah, screw it.

I raced to the kitchen opening one of the tiny oak cabinets. I pulled out my first aid kit. Then I pulled a bowl out of a top cabinet and filled it with warm water. I reached in my little compact chiller and pulled out a bag of ice. It was a new invention that had come out not too long ago, handy little thing. I grabbed a rag and was set to go. Balancing the items, I was able to make it back to the living room without spilling too much water.

I set the bowl down next to me and grabbed the rag. First thing was first, time to clean the injury as I was taught. I dipped the rag into bowl ringing out the excess water. I knelt beside him as I laid the rag upon his face. I wiped the dried sweat from his brow along with the grim that had collected from him laying in the damp street. He looked so peaceful laying there and it was hard for me to believe he was that famous war hero. If you had seen him without the blood and grim he'd seem just like any other man.

I laid the cloth upon his cheek, yet he didn't wince, didn't even stir from his sleep. Wow, he must have been out. The swelling was getting worse, making that half of his face bulge. With the rate this thing was going there was no telling how big it would get. I picked up the ice bag I had created earlier. It was basically just a rag wrapped in ice but it would do. I laid it so that it settled carefully upon his bruised cheek.

Now for…the …shirt. I blinked as I began to undo the top button, realizing what I was doing. I was unbuttoning some strange guy's shirt! I felt myself get red at the thought of what that could be taken as. My imagination just loved to run off with me regardless of what I would command. I finally took a deep breath, regaining my composure. I was a professional, damn it, and I'd act like one! I watched his face for any sign incase he began to stir. I quickly undid his shirt. As soon as I was done, I withdrew.

He didn't even stir, not once. I wasn't sure if I should be happy that he hadn't waken up to see me taking off his shirt (that would've been an interesting one to explain), or concerned that he was out like a light.

When I glanced back at what I had revealed underneath the blood soaked cotton, I sat there, unable to move, my eyes widening with each part of his shirt gripped tightly in my hand. I couldn't find my voice as I stared at the sight. What….what had happened to him?

The fresh wound was deep, a knife wound. He had been stab, luckily it had missed all vitals organs. How could I tell? He wouldn't be alive now if it had. I set to work on the most important thing. I cleaned the wound carefully with the rag wiping away the excess dried blood and other grim. I then flipped open the first aid kit. Pulling out some antiseptic, a cotton pad, and a roll of gauze, I was ready to dress the wound. I pushed the gel onto the wound making sure it covered it completely. What he really needed was stitches…I laid the pad against the wound and pressed just enough to keep the blood from making a mess all over again. I then wrapped the gauze slightly around his waist finding it kinda awkward to bring it around. Making sure it applied pressure to the wound, I tied it off. I just prayed that this would work.

His chest was a mixture of scars some new, some old. There was one in particularly that twisted his flesh more than the others. It looked like at one time it had been a circular wound, but yet… I placed my fingertips upon the deformed skin. The warmth of his body was still there, however the smooth texture of his upper chest had disappeared. I knew what a bullet wound looked like but this was…it's texture was almost like a burn.

I stared up at him finding my mouth dry. I had heard of this treatment before, however it was extremely primitive and was only used as an emergency if all other procedures could not be preformed for obvious reasons. He had cauterized the wound, stopped the bleeding. Where was he that he could not get medical attention? He was a state alchemist, the army tried very hard to make sure they didn't lose them in wars.

It was then that his arm caught my attention. The scar it created was disturbing, reaching much further than his prosthetic limb did. I ran my fingers over the structure and limb, the cold contrast to the warm skin. Whoever had constructed this was a fine craftsmen, very fine. It consisted of many parts however allowed for maneuverability. It looked firm enough that no strength was lost. I paused careful to make sure he hadn't stirred before looking back at this old wound. I gently laid my finger upon the ridge of where metal met skin. I traced the line finding it controversial to have the coolness of metal and human warmth in one touch. The skin was soft though, tender from being connected with such a harsh material. I knew of automail, how each nerve had to be surgerically attached to each wire. The patient had to remain awake as well for how else would they be able to tell if the nerve had been connected or not? Yet the look of the scar…it was faded compared to that of the one at his side. So that meant... I shook my head, he must have had the surgery at a young age, a surgery in which most adults wouldn't even attempt.

I couldn't feel as much as an ass as I did at the moment. I withdrew my hand, holding it to me. I had thought he deserved to die back there. I thought I could judge him strictly on the basis he was a state alchemist. It turns out…I didn't know shit.

I carefully pulled the shirt off one arm then the other and then slipped it out from underneath him. It was a nice cut white shirt, too bad it was covered blood. I threw it in ball upon the wooden floor. I could take care of it later. I looked at his pants. Sorry, I drew the line there. Seriously what the hell was I going to say if he woke up and saw me taking off his pants? Yeah…

With the rag bloody I laid it back in the bowl. He was clean now and his wounds were dressed in was the best I could offer him. I then stood up and walked over to the closet. Pulling out a clean sheet I laid it on top of him, covering his bare chest. I then bent down to take care of the mess.

I hated the military as much as the next person and yet…god, what a fool I was, a complete hypocrite. Here I was helping the man! Damn it, Kendra! What was I to do if someone found out?! I washed out the bowl in the bath tub and laid it out to dry. Seriously, I was a woman letting some strange guy I hadn't even met into my apartment. And he was an alchemist for crying out loud, all he had to do…so my locks were pretty much worthless. Was that not asking for trouble or what? Yet there was something there. I couldn't explain it even if I wanted. I should've hated his guts. I should've left him there to rot, yet I just couldn't. It was a lame excuse.

I turned on the sink in the bathroom and filled it. I threw in his shirt. I'd let it sit for the night, hopefully it'd remove most of the blood. It looked so nice too. I let out a sigh as I shut the water off watching the clear liquid turn to a pale pink.

What had I gotten myself into? Dad? Brother? If your out there here my cry. Please…please help me…

As futile as the attempt was I locked the chain and knob. I then grabbed the chair from the desk and used it to prop up against the door. Okay, so even if it didn't stop him at least it'd give me enough time to react. I was a fool for doing this I kept telling myself that. It went against every logical sense I had yet something told me to just wait, to just hold out a bit. Damn, instinct, even if it is right it can still be a pain in the ass…