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Scar hadn’t had a real idea for how this “Day of Reckoning” would go when he set out that morning. It had already been a surprise to find the Fullmetal Alchemist and team up with not only the boy but his father, who possessed great power beyond what the homunculi had even used his countrymen for.
The mannequin soldiers had added another level of depravity to the day until the Flame Alchemist showed up to destroy them easily. He thought they’d surely lose the man to his rage and quest for vengeance when he went after the homunculus called Envy. But with a mixture of the woman’s threat to her own life, Fullmetal’s shouting, and supposedly his own words, they’d brought the man back to the path he wanted to be on. It was noble in a way, even if Scar wouldn’t even call them allies that day. They were two groups with the same immediate aim that could utilize each other’s skills.
So, why then was he watching the unfolding scene with bated breath? Why did he feel his own heart beating faster? He had swords pointed at his throat as a man who exuded pure evil bartered with the Flame Alchemist to commit the alchemist’s ultimate taboo. Even Scar knew human transmutation was not supposed to be attempted, and here this man insisted that the man do so in order to fall in line with their plans.
Despite having just watched this man in a murderous state, Scar believed the alchemist wouldn’t do as the man in the lab coat ordered him. Mustang was a proud man, and he’d been reminded of his morals only moments before. Scar didn’t think he would regress so quickly and bend to the whims of their shared enemy. Even with all the present members of their party restrained, Scar still did not see the man following along blindly. He didn’t know how the Flame Alchemist would proceed, but Scar did believe the man would die before he betrayed his country or his ideals, which he begrudgingly respected.
“No! Not a chance, I won’t be your puppet,” the Flame Alchemist spat at the man. “You open it yourself!”
The man’s face went still, pausing at Mustang’s words. Scar held his own breath, waiting for what their enemy would do with such a staunch rejection. He adjusted his glasses.
“I told you…we have run out of time.”
Scar had been paying attention to the man who was the clear leader. One should never take their eyes off the viper in front of them. But these weren’t simple vipers, they were like the rattlesnakes deep in the desert. The man had entranced them with the dangerous rattles of his words, but that had simply been the tail of things. They hadn’t paid attention to the fangs.
It all happened faster than Scar could understand. He saw it as though he were multiple people in one body. In one body, he saw the spray of blood in the corner of his eye, turning his head to see the woman who Mustang cared about collapse. In another, he saw Mustang turn his head in the same way. The man’s eyes were disbelieving; Scar understood the feeling well. He’d lived in many brief moments where the reality in front of him had been more than he could comprehend—a gap where the situation that his eyes absorbed hadn’t reached his brain yet.
He heard the choked sound come from her mouth, blood on her face to match what was on her shoulder from the last battle they’d just faced with the homunculus. It felt like time had slowed, which Scar couldn’t understand. He’d killed many and it had felt like a blur. He’d seen many killed that had felt just as fast, yet this single moment of the woman falling to the floor, no longer held captive, no longer able to hold herself, stretched for an eternity. Nothing had felt so long since…since his brother had stood in front of him when Kimblee destroyed their lives for good.
When the women hit the floor, time resumed at its normal speed. Mustang shouted for her, and Scar was jarred by the emotion in his voice. He recognized love. He’d heard screams like that throughout the war, and there had been a part of him that hadn’t believed the Amestrian monsters—alchemists especially—could feel something like that. He doubted Kimblee could, but how many emotions had he seen from Mustang and his subordinate in this one day? He’d seen anger, sadness, regret, determination, and others too complex to name. Perhaps, the woman wasn’t even just a subordinate in the Flame Alchemist’s eyes. His vows to kill the man in charge went beyond a superior wanting to simply protect their underling. The way she’d held a gun to his head and forced him to remain on a righteous path also suggested something more than a working relationship.
How curious. How human.
“I can’t afford to lose you.”
Those were the words he’d just said to the woman. Now, he begged for her to say something, to hold on. Scar knew the damage the Flame Alchemist had wrought on Ishval. Even the woman, he’d heard of her own feats, even if they paled in comparison to what most alchemists had accomplished. He hated the military, and yet these two military officers were waging war against their own military—their country at large.
The Fullmetal Alchemist had explained what Scar assumed was a very abridged version of events to him as they searched for the man to bring him back from the brink. The boy told him of their plans to restore Ishval, for Mustang to lead the country. No, not just lead, but to change the nation as he knew it from a military state to one governed by and for its people—all its people. Then, he wanted to force all alchemists and higher ups to face judgment for what they’d done to his people. At first, he’d assumed that the man wanted to eliminate his competition, but the boy, he’d said that he was told they had no desire to be left out of their due process. They intended to face judgment as well, even knowing that would be walking to their deaths. He never would’ve imagined an Alchemist and a sniper feeling so strongly about their actions that they’d dedicate their lives to gaining the power to make it right and then allowing themselves to be killed to atone.
If asked nearly a year ago, he would’ve offered to be their executioner—he wouldn’t have offered, actually, he would have just done so. Now, he felt conflicted. He’d even acknowledged to the man’s face that if he didn’t let his rage consume him, he would be a leader that Scar could envision. Or, that was what he’d implied in stating that he wouldn’t want the leader to be consumed by rage; he was offering two paths to the man. Mustang picked the right path that time, he’d seen the acknowledgement in his eyes. Even as he denied his subordinate when she insisted it was him that brought Mustang to his senses, he’d seen the truth of it.
“I’m under strict orders not to die,” the woman rasped from the floor. They’d dragged her across the room, blood showing the exact path they’d taken her.
She trembled and wheezed in her effort to stay alive. It was clear that even in the confidence of her words, she was struggling with the weight of her mortality. The Flame Alchemist struggled with it as well, watching her, hardly able to take his eyes off her. Sweat dripped down his face, so close to his eyes that Scar couldn’t say with certainty the man wasn’t crying as well. He didn’t derive glee from the pain of watching a loved one suffer not only in front of them but as a bargaining chip. He hadn’t been conscious for his family’s demise. He’d never watched someone he loved die painfully, even if he knew they did. He wasn’t sure how one moved forward after witnessing that.
Mustang had two paths ahead of him. He could either let the woman he so obviously loved die for the greater good or he could fall right into the enemy’s hands, as they hoped he would. Scar didn’t think even with the hatred that still borrowed deep in his heart that he would fault the man for saving her. The look in his mind showed this man would crawl to the ends of the earth to get to this woman; no grave could hold his body down if she needed saving. However, it wasn’t his grave holding him at bay. Allowing someone you love dearly to die in front of you was something Scar couldn’t imagine. If his brother had been put in the position of this Lieutenant, Scar would’ve been in much the same mind as Mustang. His eyes screamed to save the woman. They begged with her to allow him to break, but she refused.
The woman pleaded outright, not just with her eyes, that this man stay strong and not throw away everything they worked for to save her. He watched as defeat filled the dark depths of his eyes and his soul. Scar knew what would play out just from their short interactions that day. Mustang respected the woman’s wishes well beyond his own, and though Scar knew Mustang would think himself the worst monster forever, he would not go against her wishes. He loved her too much to allow her to be used in such a way. The woman knew her fate yet she would allow herself to die painfully in front of the man she clearly loved as well if it meant they stayed their course.
It wasn’t even begrudgingly that he respected both of them in that moment. These were warriors who were once on the opposite side of the war than him, but now he saw the spirit his allies fought with. He wasn’t ready to forgive them, but should he and Mustang survive that day, he would be willing to work with him and hear what plans the man wanted for his country, and how he might help with that should he be allowed to do so.
~~~
Everything got lost in the fight that ensued moments after Mustang’s denial to perform human transmutation. The moment the chimeras and Mei arrived, Scar’s sole focus became eliminating the men that had held them all captive. With the additional allies, it went much faster than he anticipated.
He fought with more ferocity than he had when they faced them initially. He tried to rationalize that it was because he knew better about how they worked now, so he understood they needed to be dealt with aggressively. Somewhere he didn’t want to acknowledge wondered if it was to allow the Flame Alchemist to make it to his love. Even if it was just to hold her as she went. He didn’t pay attention to them, he couldn’t unless he wanted to be stabbed.
Mei was there—even though she shouldn’t have been—but maybe that would save the woman. He didn’t have the time to say anything, and shamefully, he didn’t have the words to convey this to her either. Ishvala help him, even when he knew saving a life would be honorable in their fight, he still struggled to do so. The darkness that had taken root in him still defied his attempts at pruning it into something like he’d once been. Perhaps with time, he might be that man again, but for now, he could only hope and live with his conflicted shame.
When the last of their enemies were destroyed, Scar finally looked over to find Mustang, the woman, and Mei all sitting at each other’s side. He recognized the bloody circle as Mei’s work as she pulled the remaining knives out of the points. The look in Mustang’s face would stick with him long after this day. Somehow a man who could look at someone with such love all while doing what he could to protect the people in his country might just be worth aligning with in the era of restoration that would come once they saved Amestris.