LAST WORDS - LOCKED TO alchemicals

[determinator]

[Kimbley had left his pocket watch. It wouldn't have been as bad if the watch hadn't been prepared with the Philosopher's Stones Tucker had been given. At least Kimbley took the chimeras with him - but they were created by Tucker...]

[He's been worrying all night. "I'll return by morning." The sun's nearly up. It's far too early for them to invade, Archer knows that. There's no reason for him to prepare the troops this early. That hasn't stopped him. The first rays of light are beginning to show when he enters the city, gun drawn.]

[It's possible that Kimbley is just having fun, that he's genuinely not in any danger. It's possible, but not likely. He was sent in here on the Furher's direct orders; that alone is enough to warrant worry. Why would the Fuhrer select Kimbley for a job like this? He's been in prison for ten years; he's not exactly the best alchemist they have here. Mustang would have been better suited, right?]

[There's no point worrying about it now. He's here; he can provide backup and support for Kimbley now.]

Kimbley! ...Where the fuck is he?

[Archer has left the majority of the troops behind; the few soldiers who are tailing him have been left behind in the city already. He's focused solely on that damn alchemist now. He had better be fine.]

Comments

[alchemicals]

[Kimbley can still hear him, he understands the words, but it's in a way that feels incredibly distant - it feels like there's some sort of thick fog between Archer and himself that he's hearing all of this through, almost like he's listening in on some sort of bizarre one-sided conversation between Archer and someone else entirely; he knows that isn't the case, that he's dying and Archer's upset because he's dying, but there's such a large chasm between the feeling and the knowing that he doesn't even know where to start when it comes to crossing it.

Kimbley can feel Archer shaking, as well as the strange, shuddering breaths coming from him; while he doesn't exactly realize that Archer is crying, he knows that there are a lot of things that he probably should tell him. The two that come immediately to mind are lies - "it'll be okay" when it won't, and "I'm sorry" when he's not. The latter is a bit more true than the former; he's kind of sorry for all this shit happening, but he isn't sorry about anything that's led up to it. The time he's spent with Archer since getting out of prison isn't anything he's going to regret; regretting this is regretting everything that led up to it.

He's not sorry.

For a long moment he's almost entirely unresponsive, his breathing the only indication that his body hasn't completely given out; he isn't sure what makes him decide that what he does end up doing is a good idea. It's entirely possible that blood loss is rendering him completely delirious; either way, it just feels like something he...needs to do, so he does it.

He turns his head a bit from where he's been nuzzling into Archer's shoulder, and begins laying kisses against Archer's neck.

The motion is soft, weak; he knows it's entirely possible that Archer won't even realize what he's doing...but it doesn't really matter at this point, anyway, does it? The initial gesture is tentative, though he repeats it a couple of times before stopping, resting his head back against Archer's shoulder and closing his eyes.

Goddamn it...]

[determinator]

[Like Kimbley, physical contact isn't something Archer is used to. Casual touch has never been something he's engaged in. Everything changed with Kimbley. He's not sure why, but Kimbley's always been different. It doesn't take him long to realize what Kimbley's doing, and it's then that he begins to wonder just what the hell his relationship with Kimbley even is to make an act like this perfectly acceptable.]

[It's not something he's going to think much about now, at any rate.]

[This has brought something else entirely to his attention though. He's being selfish. That's not surprising at all - when isn't Archer selfish? - but now really isn't the time. He's not the one dying. He'll have plenty of time to worry about all of this later; Kimbley doesn't have long.]

...Sorry.

[He'll take a moment to swipe at his eyes as discretely as possible before returning to play with Kimbley's hair. It's the only thing he can think to do that will even marginally comfort the alchemist.]

I... Thanks. I'll be fine.

[That's a blatant lie. There's no sense in worrying Kimbley though; might as well try to make his passing as easy as possible, right?]

[...Dear god, everything really is different with Kimbley.]

[alchemicals]

[He'd needed to hear that.

Kimbley knows that it's probably a lie - that Archer never switches gears that quickly, especially when emotions are running high, and the only reason Archer would have to do that now would be to try to comfort him; as much as he's never really liked the idea of that sort of thing, he's starting to understand the reasoning behind why Archer had needed the lie earlier.

Kimbley knows he's going to die; he doesn't understand why he can't do it without wanting to believe that that Archer is going to be all right.

The feeling of Archer's hand playing with his hair again is soothing, however, and that gesture in combination with the fact that Archer is trying to reassure him is enough to allow Kimbley to relax. He passes out, slipping into a deep unconsciousness that he isn't going to wake up from; it doesn't take long after that for the rest of his body to shut down.]