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batsutousaiTitle: From the Worst of Times
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: Mature
Pairings: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Warnings: Ed's potty mouth, canon-typical violence, pile 'o OCs, background original character death, Roy is actually kind of emotionally stunted
Summary: "From the worst of times," someone had once told a young Roy Mustang, "always come the greatest of gifts." There were times in his life that was all he had to cling to, but it always seemed to hold true, one way or the other.
"I changed my mind," Ed said, no inflection in his voice.
Without looking away from the bland gold eyes, Roy swept the coins off the table and slipped them into his pocket, then pulled out the small fold of bills he kept on him and held out the 1000 cenz bill that had been wrapped around the outside.
"You're so cheap," Ed complained as he accepted the bill and slipped it away, a hint of amusement brightening his eyes.
"You should have waited until I got my first paycheque, then," Roy pointed out as he slipped the rest of the bills back away.
"I have no idea," Riza murmured to Chris, who must have looked at her for an explanation, as Roy turned his attention back towards the last of his breakfast.
"I'd like to take one more look at the dorms," Roy commented, "then we should head back up to Command to wait for Miss Rockbell and, I suspect, Welrod." He glanced up at Riza. "Did Heymans find any more of the bombs?"
"Parts, but he hasn't been able to fit together a complete one."
Roy nodded. "How do you feel about puzzles, Ed?"
"Wrong Elric."
"Figures," Roy muttered.
"Fuck you." Ed tapped his fork against his empty plate once. "If you're lucky, Al's coming up with Winry."
"Oh? Is he staying with Miss Rockbell?" Roy asked, and Ed levelled an unimpressed stare on him. "I don't make a habit of asking after your brother's romantic aspirations, Edward."
"I never said anything about romance!" Ed snapped, scowling. "Stop stalking my brother, you pervert!"
Chris chuckled as she stood. "Did you want more, Ed?"
Roy watched Ed look around the table at everyone else's nearly empty plates and sigh regretfully. "No. I expect we'll be leaving directly."
Roy glanced at his aunt and, when she met his gaze, raised an eyebrow and quirked a half smile. Chris smiled back and promised, "I'll get you something to go," before heading back for the kitchen.
"I like her," Ed decided, nudging Roy with his elbow. "Can I trade you in?"
"No."
"Bastard."
Roy met Riza's amused stare. "Colonel, take Private Enfield with you and check past the hospital, then meet us at Command. Any alchemists you see on the way, have them report to Command; we have a building to rebuild."
Riza nodded. "Understood."
They all made quick work of the rest of their meals, and rose when Chris came back in, a small box for Ed in one hand and a carafe and a pile of cups in the other. She handed the box off to Ed as she passed him, and he gave her his most stunning smile as thanks. "Coffee," she announced as she set the cups and carafe at the end of the table, and everyone around the table, including Roy himself, let slip a grateful noise. "Roy-Boy, go get the cream and sugar," she ordered as she set about pouring the coffee in the cups.
Roy sighed and did as he was told, knowing better than to try arguing with her; Führer or not, his aunt would always order him around, and he wasn't crazy enough to ignore her orders and find out what ways she had to embarrass him as punishment.
On the worktop next to the cream and sugar sat an envelope full of, he didn't doubt, information on Lee, Welrod, or both, and on top of the envelope sat a replacement pair of ignition gloves.
Roy wasted no time in switching out his current dusty gloves for the new pair, and slipped the others into a pocket, in case he had need of them later. He felt much better at the sight of the familiar array traced out in red on the back of two clean gloves, and he was smiling as he slipped the envelope inside his jacket; he'd find the time to look through it as soon as he found a place where he could spread out, without his guard detail peering over his shoulders. He had nothing against his team – Ed included – knowing that Madam Christmas served as a large part of his information network, but the fewer members of the military who knew that, the better her information.
He almost forgot the cream and sugar, but remembered them before he reached the doorway and grabbed them before hurrying back out. "Stop ogling my girls," Chris ordered as brought the requested items over to the table.
"Sorry, Madam," Roy replied smoothly, taking the excuse for his extended absence without missing a beat; having a reputation for being a lady killer had far more perks than he ever might have guessed the first time he'd used the excuse to explain away how close he was to so many of the women in his aunt's employ.
Chris quickly set about fixing everyone's coffee to their specifications and passed out the cups, which everyone accepted was an honest 'thank you'.
Once they had their cups, Riza and Carcano left to collect the cars. Enfield and Tarpley took one look at Roy's flat stare and followed after their two superiors, leaving Roy alone in the front of the pub with his aunt and Ed.
"I don't know when I'll have time to look at this," Roy admitted quietly, tapping the envelope under his jacket.
Chris nodded in understanding. "I'm sure you already know most of it, but there may be some things you can use, should it become necessary." She flashed him a too-sharp smile. "Now get out of here so I can talk to your boy."
"I'm not a boy!" Ed snapped, scowling from behind his coffee.
Roy snorted. "Edward, if I'm a boy, you're a boy," he pointed out, and Chris laughed at his expense. "Thank you, Madam."
Chris nodded. "Make me proud, Roy-Boy."
Roy quirked a smile and left Ed to her tender mercies, joining the other members of the military out by the cars. He managed to get Riza to drive off just before Ed came out, looking thoughtful. The drive to the dorms was quiet, and Ed must have re-sketched the array while Roy had been passed out earlier, because he handed it over once they got out of the car.
The sun had risen while they'd been hidden away in Madam Christmas, and it had stained the ruins of the dorms with lines of light and blocks of shadow; a confusing jumble of sharp angles and jagged edges than hurt to stare at for too long. The group of men and women who were still trying to move things looked like they needed the coffee Roy had chugged in the car, and he made a mental note to find someone to make a coffee run for everyone who had spent the night at either site as soon as he got up to Command.
People were happy to take a break and clear out so Roy could activate the array for a third time, and thank god Ed had created it and Roy was strong enough an alchemist to activate it, because there were too many people who wouldn't have survived the night otherwise, and that was a far greater gift than Roy could have expected to come from this tragedy.
There wasn't any sense of a 'pull' when Roy activated the array, and he let it go with regret; he couldn't say if everyone he'd spotted the first time had already been pulled out, or if they'd lost the last of them between then and now, but there was no one else alive in the ruins.
He passed that on to Metford and Benet, both of whom seemed to droop at the grim news. "Still," Roy said, "if you have people who need to keep digging, have them focus under that staircase; reports suggest the cause might be under there."
"Yes, sir," Metford agreed tiredly.
"Anyone who clearly needs it, send them home," Roy added. "And as soon as I get someone up at Command who can, I'll have you two relieved."
Benet swallowed, then motioned to the ruins behind him. "With all due respect, sir, some us no longer have a home to return to."
Roy closed his eyes, well aware, because Fuery and Falman both still lived in the dorms, too, and while he had nothing against putting them up in his house, he couldn't do that for every member of the military who had lost their bed. "Anyone who needs a bed and lived in the dorms can be sent to one of the nearby hotels," Roy decided. "I have someone start calling around, make sure they know to bill the treasury. Tell your people to be reasonable about their choices – we can't drain the vaults for this – but we can afford to ensure everyone has a bed until we get the dorms rebuilt."
Benet sort of stared at him in disbelief for a long moment, then croaked, "Thank you, sir."
Roy put on his best 'trust me' smile. "Give me twenty minutes to get those calls started, then start sending people to get dome sleep."
"Yes, sir," Metford agreed, while Benet just nodded, looking so unspeakably grateful, and Roy hated that no one expected the Führer to care about the troops under him; this was Bradley and Father's legacy, and Roy was going to erase it from the military mindset if it killed him.
Once they were back in the car and headed around to the main gate, Roy asked, "Ed, what is a reasonable upper limit for a good hotel room?"
Ed took a moment to consider that, then offered, "I usually aim for about 10,000 cenz, but knowing the prices in Central, I'd say set the limit at 18,000 cenz."
Roy nodded. "Thank you."
When they reached the top of the tunnel, the first thing Roy did was find two people comfortable with talking for extended periods on phones, then had them take over the two lines to start calling hotels within walking distance of Central Command. Once that was done, he caught a couple of field medics who didn't look too tired and sent them out to send home anyone who looked like they were about to fall over from exhaustion. After that, he found a couple of privates who had clearly caught some sleep and found coffee, and sent them out to a bakery he knew of just around the block; the owner owed him a favour and should be willing to repay it by closing up shop for the morning to bring all his bread, pastries, and a few dozen galleons of coffee up to Command, so long as Roy could pay him back from the treasury later.
He found Riza, Havoc, Breda, and Fuery in the main tent. Riza was looking through the paperwork that had been left there, while Breda fussed with pieces of the bombs and Havoc attempted to 'help' him. Fuery had curled up under what appeared to be Breda's jacket and was dozing in a dark corner, but only Riza looked anywhere near fresh. Hell, even Ed looked like the long hours were starting to drag on him.
"Jean," Roy murmured, touching Havoc's shoulder as he stepped up next to him, "I need you to drive Kain to my house and put him in one of the guest rooms. Then either go home, or get yourself some coffee and come back, your choice."
Havoc shot him a tired grin. "You got it, Chief," he agreed and got up with a groan before heading over to collect Fuery.
"I'm staying here," Breda bit out before Roy could give him the same options. "Wouldn't mind some coffee and food, but I'm not leaving until I figure out this fucking thing." He waved an aggravated hand at the mess in front of him.
"Food and coffee are coming," Roy promised, and Breda perked up. "Take a ten minute break, stretch your legs, and don't come back until you've eaten. That's an order, Lieutenant Colonel."
Breda snorted. "Yeah, fine. This is me, exercising." He got up and ambled off, offering cheerful greetings to those he knew who were milling around the parade grounds.
"Colonel," Roy greeted Riza at last, stopping next to her and looking down at the papers she was sorting through. "Please tell me none of those are for me."
He swore he heard Ed snort.
Riza held up a small pile with a bland expression. "Read these and sign, and please find some paper somewhere and write up a report about promising to pay for soldiers' hotel stays, so it can be handed off to the treasury right away."
Roy didn't groan, but it was a near thing. "Yes, Colonel," he muttered as Riza left the chair for him, and Ed was definitely snickering, the brat.
Thankfully, most of the paperwork Riza had handed over covered reports he'd received verbally, so it was quick to get through. Finding a piece of paper he could use was far harder, but Ed sent Private Enfield out to hunt some down – because he was not helpful – so he was able to write up a report on his decision for Treasury. After that was done, he used the extra paper the private had brought to sketch arrays for rebuilding Command; very few State Alchemists regularly worked with stone or metal, after all, and Roy was the only one who didn't need to have a physical array to activate the transmutation.
While he was working on the arrays, the bakery owner Roy knew had come up with his offerings, and someone had kindly brought him a coffee and pastry, which he quickly polished off without realising it. People walking the parade grounds were looking far more cheerful at having food in their bellies, though they still got quiet if they got too close to the lines of bodies laid out by the west gate.
"Are the phones clear?" Roy asked Riza once he was done sketching arrays, looking towards the bodies.
"I believe so, sir."
"Can you have some morgues called? Leaving the bodies out for the elements like that seems disrespectful."
Riza offered him a small, approving smile. "I'll go do that now," she agreed before starting away.
She hadn't got far when a familiar voice shouted, "Brother!"
Ed, who had been kicking at the pieces of Breda's bomb that the man wasn't currently attempting to fit together, looked up, his mouth curving with a wide grin. He hurried to the front of the tent and peered past Tarpley, towards the main gate. "Al! Winry!" he shouted back, waving one arm a bit wildly in the air.
Roy's chair jerked before he could open his mouth to make a smart comment about Ed's height and the probability of his brother and Miss Rockbell actually seeing him, and he glared back at Breda, who flashed him a knowing grin in response.
Once again resigning himself to the fact that his team didn't respect him, Roy got up and walked over to the front of the tent, watching as Ed ran forward and met Al with an excited hug, both of them clearly happy to see each other, and Roy felt a very real thrill of pleasure at the chance to see them together in the flesh for the first time. Miss Rockbell was standing next to the brothers, smiling widely and holding tight to what Roy recognised as her travel tool case.
Falman slipped quietly past the exuberant greetings and stopped in front of Roy with a salute. "Sir."
Roy knew that expression and he felt a frown tugging at his mouth even as he ordered, "Report, Major."
Falman inclined his head. "Shortly after he was discharged, Brigadier General Lee attempted to purchase a ticket on the next train out of Central, however," he added, and humour glinted in his dark eyes, "the night teller is anti-military and was extremely unimpressed with him leaving the city during an emergency situation, so he was unable to purchase tickets."
Roy surprised himself with his own laughter, because wasn't that just ironic, one of the anti-military faction keeping a possible traitor from fleeing. He reached up and clapped a hand against Falman's arm cheerfully. "Thank you for that, Major."
Falman inclined his head, and his eyes lost their glint of humour as he said, "Brigadier General Lee left after causing a scene, when the teller threatened to put in a call to the military police. No one I spoke to knew where he might have gone from there."
"He probably went looking for a car, if he's that desperate to get out of the city," Breda said from Roy's elbow, and he hadn't even noticed the heavyset man joining them. "No one saw him around the carpool, and I don't believe he's noted as owning his own vehicle, so he probably used a civilian lending service."
Falman frowned. "There are only three civilian lending services that would have been open between the time when he left the station and now," he reported.
"Do you know the numbers?"
Falman nodded. "Yes, sir. Ring them up?"
"Yes." Roy pointed towards where the phone that had been on his desk had been moved for the people calling the hotels, and Falman stepped quickly over to it. Roy turned to Breda. "Was anyone sent past Lee's home?"
Breda nodded, his mouth drawn in a disapproving frown. "Sent two soldiers first thing, but there was no answer to their knocks, and without probable cause..."
Roy nodded in understanding. "Trying to leave the city during an emergency seems like probable cause to me," he commented, and Breda's smile as he salute and hurried off was as sharp as broken glass.
As Breda left, the Elrics and Miss Rockbell approached, Al leading with a friendly smile. And, with the two brothers standing so close, Roy could see that Al was a little bit taller – he had no doubt that pissed Ed off – and that either Al had seen some serious sun recently, or Ed had been spending a lot of time out of the sun, because there was a noticeable difference in both their skin tones and the shades of their hair.
"Führer Mustang," Al greeted, holding out his hand. "I see congratulations are in order."
Roy took the offered hand with a smile that he couldn't have suppressed even had he wanted to. "Good to see you looking well, Alphonse. And thank you, though I admit that it still feels a bit unreal."
"I understand that sensation entirely, sir," Al admitted, and Roy knew he would.
Roy let go of Al's hand and turned an easy smile on the other visitor. "Miss Rockbell. I'd like to say 'welcome back to Central,' but, well..." They all glanced towards the ruins of Central Command.
The young woman snorted. "It's fine; I'm used to coming here because someone broke his automail again, and finding buildings in ruins."
"True enough," Roy admitted, and Al laughed while Ed made disgusted noises, though, notably, he didn't disagree.
Al clapped his hands together. "Well! Since I'm here, would you like some help repairing buildings?" he offered.
Roy smiled at the young man. "I'm waiting for Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong and a couple other State Alchemists who are living in the city to report in, but additional help is always appreciated."
Al glanced towards where Ed and Winry were retreating towards the back of the tent. "Brother would help if he could, you know."
"I know, and he's done a great deal, already," Roy agreed.
Al sighed. "Has he been difficult?"
"No more so than usual."
Al shot him a knowing look, and Roy offered a faint smile in response. Al shook his head and looked towards the ruins. "At least you're not threatening to kill each other," he decided, and Roy allowed a quiet chuckle at the truth of that statement. "Has he paid you back yet?"
"Yes. And then he borrowed 1000 cenz off me, which actually sort of defeats the purpose, when you think about it," Roy complained and Al laughed. Roy smiled back for a moment before his mind meandered off into a related topic. "Ed would probably deck me for asking, but do you know how he's intending to pay Miss Rockbell for the repairs to his automail?"
Al glanced over at him, frowning. "No. Winry suggested they'd work something out, figure a family rate." He sighed and admitted, "I didn't even think about it. I'm so used to knowing he can take the funds from his military account, but since he was discharged..."
Roy nodded. "I'll speak to Miss Rockbell," he decided.
Al shook his head. "Brother won't thank you for charity, sir."
"It's not charity," Roy insisted. "He saved my life, and he created an array that saved twelve others, at last count; this is payment for services rendered."
Al smiled at that. "Equivalent exchange?"
Roy raised an eyebrow. "Have you discovered the exchange rate for a human life, now?"
"Fair point," Al replied.
The sound of Ed and Miss Rockbell sniping at each other floated out of the tent, and Roy didn't have to look at Al to know neither of them had any interest in going back in there.
Falman stepped up next to Roy's free side shortly after the sniping started, and he glanced over at the man. "Report."
"Sir, none of the civilian automotive lenders report renting out a car to anyone since Brigadier General Lee was discharged, nor do any of them report any missing vehicles."
Roy nodded. "I don't expect Lee has the sort of knowledge necessary to steal a car, but if he's desperate enough, he might surprise us," he admitted. "We'll have to wait to hear back from Heymans' team." He turned his head enough to get a good look at Falman, taking in the faint circles under his eyes. "I had Jean take Kain to my house to rest. You're welcome to do the same, or you can go see if there's any coffee left and take a break for half an hour, your choice."
Falman's shoulders slumped slightly. "I'll see about that coffee, then, sir," he announced before walking off.
Roy glanced over when he felt someone patting his arm to find Al giving him a knowing smile. "They're good people," he said.
Roy nodded and quietly admitted, "I couldn't ask for a better team," which made Al's smile widen.
The next interruption came about five minutes later, in the form of Alex Armstrong striding over, three State Alchemists trailing him tiredly. Alex, himself, looked like he'd only managed a couple hours of sleep, but he was still sporting the widest, most relieved grin that Roy had seen yet. "Führer Mustang, sir!" he called as he approached, and Roy turned to return his salute. "It eases my heart to see you up and about, sir. You gave us quite the scare when Edward carried you out of the rubble."
Roy raised an eyebrow at the new information and filed it away. "Your assistance in the rescue efforts so far have been much appreciated, Lieutenant Colonel. If you're not too tired, we could use your help in rebuilding." He glanced over the other alchemists for the last bit, including them in the request.
One of the alchemists, Thomas Freher, the Mirror Image Alchemist, asked, "Are we sure all of the survivors are out?"
Roy glanced towards where he could still hear the occasional comment from Ed or Miss Rockbell from inside the tent. "Mr Edward Elric designed an array that would allow us to pinpoint any living bodies under the rubble and it was used to clear out both Central Command and the dorms."
"So, there may still be bodies, but they won't start screaming if they get caught between two pieces of the floor," Joanne Hollandus, the Sulphurous Alchemist declared, and Roy was the only one who managed to keep his grimace of distaste from showing. "Fine. What about the explosive devices?"
"Lieutenant Colonel Breda has removed all the pieces he and his team were able to find. He believes there's not enough left to chance rebuilding any of the bombs, but we'll keep our focus specifically on rebuilding the building and not the detritus within, just to be on the safe side."
"Where did the bombs go off?" Al asked, frowning.
"Führer Grumman's office, my office, General Bess' office, and the mess," Roy replied.
"I'm sorry," Freher interrupted, looking at Al with an unimpressed look, "but who are you?" And Roy probably should have reprimanded him for that, but he'd sort of been waiting for someone to question the addition of a civilian's involvement in a military emergency since he'd found out Ed was handing out orders like he still had that right; very few people recognised the former Fullmetal Alchemist, after six years, and most of the country had known his military-given title, rather than his name, which Roy suspected was part of the reason that Ed didn't want him using that title any more.
"Alphonse Elric," Al returned with an easy smile. When that didn't seem to spark any recognition in either Freher or the last alchemist, Adam Ripley, the Blooming Alchemist, Al added, "I came to visit with my brother, and the Führer asked if I might be willing to lend a hand. I mean, I'm not Brother, but I know a little bit of alchemy."
Hollandus scoffed, and it was clear from her expression that she knew exactly who Al was and how good an alchemist he was, though she didn't appear interested in filling in her colleagues, any more than Roy or Alex were. "Let's just get this over with," she snapped before Freher could make any further disparaging comments about the civilian. "I left the keys to my flat in the office, and I'm not going to spring for a hotel just for a couple hours of sleep."
Ripley cleared his throat. "I'm unfamiliar with rebuilding arrays," he warned them.
"Alphonse," Roy said, turning to the young man, "there's a pile of arrays on my desk, if you could get them for me?"
"Of course," Al agreed before hurrying off towards the tent.
Roy turned to consider the ruins, debating the best positions for everyone to work from, given their various strengths. He didn't really want to put Hollandus near any of the remaining bomb pieces, since she specialised in explosive substances, and he'd be best served having Freher work on the front of the building, as he specialised in reflective surfaces, and there weren't many windows in the back. He knew he could trust Al and Alex to manage the outstretched wings in front of the building without any trouble, but he would need to place himself in a fairly central location, in case he needed to spot one of the other three alchemists, given none of them had much experience working with stone. Not that Roy had much experience working with stone, himself, but he'd known Ed, Al, and Alex for long enough to have picked up some of their tricks.
Al returned to them with the arrays, a half-grimace tilting his mouth. "It's a good thing Brother can't help," he told Roy as he handed over the papers. "He's going on about how Central Command would look much better with gargoyles."
"Your brother's sense of aesthetic never ceases to disturb," Roy answered drily, handing out the arrays to the three State Alchemists as Al snickered, then eyeing Alex. "How adaptable is your array?" he asked.
"I have used it to rebuild structures before," Alex replied evenly.
Roy nodded and slipped the left over arrays inside his jacket, against the envelope from Chris. "Lieutenant Colonel, Alphonse, you're in charge of rebuilding the front wings; pick positions along them that are the best for your purposes."
"Sir!" Alex agreed with a salute, while Al just smiled and nodded.
"Major Thomas, you have the front entrance and façade; don't worry about stretching past the wings unless you feel the need to do so."
"Understood, sir."
"Major Ripley, you'll be in the north-west corner; Major Hollandus, you'll be in the north-east corner," he continued, barely pausing long enough for the noises of understanding from the two alchemists. "I'll be across from Major Thomas. If you start feeling tired, step back; you'll do no favours wearing yourselves out, and we don't have to get everything up right this moment, as nice as it might be to be able to move back inside."
He met everyone's eyes, ensuring they understood, then motioned for them to head over to the ruins. He was only a little surprised when he realised that Privates Enfield and Tarpley had followed him out, and when he glanced back at them, Tarpley shrugged in apology and offered, "Colonel Hawkeye's orders, sir."
Roy nodded. "She terrifies me, too," he admitted and the two men grinned.
Once on the far side of the rubble, against the north wall, Roy directed his two guards to stand where they'd be out of the way, then stepped forward to the edge of the fallen masonry.
It was hardly a simultaneous activation, but they all got to it in their own time. Roy kept his focus on his transmutation at the start, rebuilding his section of the wall and pulling out the floor divisions as he reached them. The stones had some memory of what they'd been before, and his own familiarity with the building filled in any gaps. Furniture was harder, and he left most of it alone, with a few nudges to reform a couple of pieces because they were in the way of a piece of the building.
He didn't start paying attention to the other alchemists until he felt Freher's transmutation tickling the edge of his own. At that point, he started shaping his work around the other man's, matching up floors and walls, reshaping some of Freher's work when it wasn't quite right. And when he met up with Ripley and Hollandus' work on either side of him, he set about doing the same minor fixes.
It wasn't easy work – rebuilding never was – and he knew the other three alchemists stepped away before he did, but, then, the homunculi wouldn't have forced Roy to perform human transmutation if they hadn't known he was a strong alchemist. Which, really, when he considered it as he let the alchemic energy go and observed how not drained he felt, begged the question of exactly how advanced that array that Ed had made had really been.
'Stone and metal are easy,' he could just imagine Ed saying, 'souls are not.'
Which...was true. One transmutation used a fairly basic circle and relied on the component's own wish to be connected to forge bonds, while the other was created on the fly and searched out energy that Roy didn't have any real connection to, while also adding a bit of his own energy to leave a mark visible to other people.
Roy shook his head and glanced towards Hollandus, who was walking tiredly towards him, then Ripley, who had sat down against the wall where he'd been working and was rubbing at his face. Roy waited until Hollandus was close enough to hear without him having to shout, then said, "Head on through. I'm sure someone has found some food, or at least some coffee."
She leant herself slightly artistically against the wall, her rather ample bosom pushed out like she was trying to tempt him, and nodded. "I'll get right on that, sir. Did you want to get the dorm today, too?"
Roy shook his head, very firmly keeping his eyes on her face; not only was this far from the place for appreciative gazes, he'd never done more than pay a well-meant compliment to his subordinates, and his new position meant everyone in military-blue or carrying a State Alchemist watch was his subordinate. "No. We haven't found any sign of the explosive used there, so that building will have to wait," he admitted with a grimace.
"Lot of people not going to have a bed for tonight," Hollandus commented, and while she'd tried to blank her expression, Roy was well-practised at reading people, and she was fishing for something, though what it was, he couldn't say.
"No," he replied quietly, honestly, "there won't. We're putting up everyone in local hotels."
" 'We', sir?" Hollandus asked.
"The military. We have the funds, and I won't let any of my people go without a place to sleep."
Hollandus' mouth twisted with something that was almost a smile and she pushed away from the building. "You know, sir, you're a lot less of a self-serving dick than the rumours would suggest."
Roy snorted; his team had started some of those rumours for their own amusement. "I try. Go get something to eat, Major."
Hollandus saluted him, then vanished through the nearest door, leaving Roy, his two guards, and Ripley left in the back of the building.
"We may need to carry Major Ripley back to the tents," Roy warned before he started towards the sitting alchemist.
"It won't be the first time this morning we've had to carry an exhausted alchemist, sir," Tarpley informed him primly.
Roy looked back at the private, putting on his best bland stare. When Tarpley slowed down, looking a bit worried, Roy sighed and looked forward again. "This is Ed's fault," he complained, pitching his voice so it would carry no further than the two privates.
It was probably also at least half Ed's fault that Roy didn't mind a bit of good-natured insubordination at his expense. But, then, he would never be Bradley; he needed his people to know that they wouldn't be punished out of hand for questioning an order that put someone at risk or went against their own morals. Roy needed to be a leader that his people could come up to in the hallway and not be afraid to start a conversation with, that they trusted to lead them to safety on the battlefield, that they wanted to follow.
"Sorry, sir," Ripley called as Roy and the privates reached him, glancing up from behind his hands. "Plants are a lot easier to work with than stone."
"I'll take your word for it," Roy replied, leaning against the wall next to the man. "Take a minute and breathe, Major, we'll go when you're ready. Unless you want someone to carry you."
Ripley let out a disgusted sound. "No, sir."
Roy smiled and looked up the rebuilt wall, along the marks of transmutation, to the bright blue sky stretching above them. He heard Enfield and Tarpley settling against the perimeter wall across from him, content to wait.
"Sir?" Ripley called after a few minutes.
"Major." Roy glanced down and found the other alchemist was watching him with unguarded awe in his expression.
"You're amazing. I've never seen anyone perform a transmutation so easily before. I mean, you finished up my part and yours and you're not even sweating."
Roy glanced back up at the sky. "Stone is easier to work with than fire," he replied.
"Hah. I guess you would know," Ripley agreed before lurching to his feet. "Still. It was amazing, sir."
Roy quirked a smile at the other alchemist and fell in next to him, matching his pace as they made for the nearest door into the building. "Thank you, Major. It is a pity, I admit, that the Fullmetal Alchemist can no longer do alchemy; if you thought I was impressive, you'd have been utterly in awe of him. Even if he does have terrible taste in décor."
Ripley coughed out a laugh and almost fell when he tripped over some splintered wood scattered just inside the door, but Roy and Enfield both reached out and helped steady him. "Thanks," he said with a hint of embarrassment. After a few more steps into the building, Ripley taking care to watch his every step, the man said, "I wish I could have met him, Fullmetal. He was the reason I joined the military."
Roy barely held back a grimace. "Please don't ever tell him that." When Ripley shot him a half wounded, half confused look, Roy explained, "He'd be proud to learn he'd inspired someone to learn alchemy, but Edward has always hated the military; we were simply the means to an end for him, and he's quite proud of the fact that he's rid of us."
"But...why? Wasn't he proud to serve?"
Roy folded his hands behind his back and diplomatically offered, "The military was different under the late Führer Bradley."
"Well, that's true," Ripley agreed, though he didn't sound convinced.
Roy let it be; there were a dozen reasons why the Elrics had disliked the military, and just as many reasons why Ed had joined up despite all that, but they weren't Roy's reasons to tell, and most of them had to remain secrets for Ed and Al's sakes, besides. "You can meet him," he commented instead.
"What? Really? I thought he'd... I don't know."
"Died?" Roy suggested, and Ripley grimaced. "Yes, it's hard to imagine him still being alive, yet unable to do alchemy," he admitted, "but that was never his only skill, for all that it's the one he's known best for. He was in the tent when you arrived, or you'd have met him with Alphonse."
"Why him?" Ripley asked, and Roy just watched him out of the corner of his eye, waiting to see if he'd get it. And, as they approached the front doors, Ripley stopped walking, his eyes going wide. "He had a younger brother," he realised. "He has– That kid is his brother?!"
Roy smirked. "Quite," he agreed before stepping out into the sunlight.
He took a moment to look back at what Freher had rebuilt, then looked along the reaching wings that Alex and Al had done. It all looked good, so close to the original that Roy would have been hard pressed to spot the differences if they were placed side-by-side. Also, he was grateful to note, lacking any of Alex's artistic handiwork or Ed's wished-for gargoyles.
"Führer," Enfield called, and when Roy looked at him, he saw the private had his gun drawn, though pointing at the ground, and was pointing with his free hand along the path towards the tents.
Roy held up a hand to shade his eyes and followed Enfield's finger to a solitary group of figures far enough away that he couldn't quite make out faces. Still, it was easy to spot the two bright gleams of Elric hair – one of them looked to be wearing a military jacket, for some inexplicable reason – and Alex's bulky shape. They were standing with six other people – one blonde, one redhead, one white-haired, and the other three darker shades of brunet – all of whom were wearing military uniforms. He could make a pretty good guess as to the white-haired individual, the redhead, and the blonde, but he had no idea about the brunets.
Roy glanced back at his two guards, saw that Tarpley had also drawn his gun, then past them at where Ripley had stopped just outside the doors, looking uncertain. "Major, why don't you wait here and rest for a moment," Roy suggested with an easy smile. "I'll send someone out to you with some food as soon as I can."
Ripley swallowed and nodded. "I'll do that, sir."
"Gentlemen," Roy said, and led the way down the steps and onto the path, where he set an easy pace, hands clasped politely behind his back, where he could ready one hand to snap without anyone ahead of him aware of his intentions. If they were smart, Enfield and Tarpley would keep their guns out of sight until they had a better idea of what they were walking into.
When they got close enough to make out faces, Roy was able to quickly recognise Falman, Riza, and Breda as the white-haired person, the blonde, and the redhead, and that Ed was the Elric wearing the military jacket, though he was lacking the trousers and butt cape. One of the brunettes was Hollandus, another Welrod, and the last a woman he didn't know, but suspected had come with Welrod, judging by how close she was standing to him. He could also make out Miss Rockbell standing just behind the desk under the tent Roy had taken to using, Havoc and Carcano standing very obviously between her and the major general. Most of the rest of the lingering men and women who had been on the parade grounds since Roy and his group got back from the dorms that morning, had either retreated to the tents, or pulled back to the main gate; how much everyone knew was anyone's guess, but it was clear that the tension Roy was feeling was felt by more than just his team.
"Führer Mustang!" Falman called as Roy and his guard came within shouting distance, and everyone in the group in military blue saluted – even Edward, which Roy was going to have to hold over him later. Welrod was noticeably slower than the others, the woman with him – a captain, Roy could see – even slower as she followed his lead.
Roy put on a smile, rather than the frown he'd have rather been wearing, and returned the salute. "Major General Welrod," he said as he stopped before the group, "this is a surprise. I thought you were stationed up in North City."
Welrod cleared his throat and managed a tight smile in response. "Well, yes, but I received a call about the explosion and thought I'd make my way down here to see if I might lend some aid."
"That was quite forward-thinking of you, Major General," he praised, before making a show of pulling out his pocket watch and checking the time. "Huh. You must have heard about the explosions rather quickly, to have arrived on the first train down from North City. If I might ask, who was it that called your office?"
Welrod coughed. "Ah, Brigadier General Lee, I believe."
Roy glanced casually towards Breda, who shook his head grimly. "Brigadier General Lee," he mused. "Funny you should mention him, since he attempted to flee the city last night and is currently missing." And then Roy smiled. "Is there anything you'd like to share with me, Theodore?"
The captain at Welrod's side reached behind herself, but before she could pull out whatever she'd been grabbing, Ed had slipped around behind Welrod and grabbed her in a chokehold, one hand hidden behind her and, Roy suspected, squeezing her wrist. "Drop it," he ordered, his voice icy.
As the knife she'd grabbed clattered to the pavement between her feet, Riza and Breda both pointed their guns at Welrod, while Enfield and Tarpley stepped forward to stand in Roy's periphery vision, their own guns pointed steadily towards Welrod. Welrod obediently raised his hands in surrender, trying very hard to look both confused and insulted and really just looking constipated. "Shelly," he snarled to the woman Ed had immobilised.
"Führer," Hollandus called, and when Roy turned to her, she very obviously dropped her gloves and the ring her preferred array was on to the pavement in front of her, then held up hands unmarked by arrays. "I'm turning myself in as an accomplice to yesterday's explosions." Her mouth twisted with a slightly feral grin as she glanced towards the rapidly paling Welrod. "And I'm happy to confirm that Major General Welrod was the instigator, and Brigadier General Lee was the one who planted the bombs."
Okay, so Roy hadn't anticipated this outcome.
"Traitor!" Welrod snarled, taking a step towards her.
Alex stepped smoothly between Welrod and Hollandus, and while Roy couldn't see his face, he had a pretty good idea of his expression as he demanded, "Traitor? How dare you bandy about such terms towards others!"
"Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong," Roy interrupted before Alex could rip off his shirt, because he knew that was coming, "Colonel Hawkeye, Major Falman, would you please see these three down to the street to await the civilian police?"
"Civilian?!" Welrod shouted, looking horrified, as Alex started herding him towards the main entrance.
Riza smoothly holstered her gun and went to collect the captain from Ed, while Falman politely motioned for Hollandus to walk with him. Al fell in on Hollandus' free side, apparently to continue an alchemy discussion they'd been in the middle of when Roy had interrupted.
"Well," Ed said, stretching his arms over his head, "that was fun."
"Breda," Roy called as the man and the two privates holstered their guns, "please go ring the police and have them send over a few cars. Warn them that one of the detained is an alchemist."
Breda replied with a lazy salute and made towards the phone at a pace that was slightly faster than was his norm.
Roy turned a smirk on Ed, feeling himself relax slightly as the tension in the air left with Welrod. "Planning to reenlist, Edward?" he asked.
"Oh, fuck you," Ed threw back before pulling the jacket off over his head. It caught his vest on the way, baring Ed's stomach and chest, and Roy was surprised to feel a pull of want. (Which probably shouldn't have surprised him, because he would have called Ed attractive as a teen, even with his foul mouth and general temper. Grown up, with his temper somewhat better leashed, he was even more of a temptation, but it was Ed, part of his team.)
Ed stilled, his arms stuck over his head for a moment before he started swearing in at least three languages, and leave it to Edward Elric to travel through foreign countries and pick up their profanities.
Roy couldn't help a quiet laugh as he stepped forward to help. "Here, straighten your arms," he ordered, resting his hands on the lumps of Ed's elbows under the fabric.
"You're enjoying this, bastard," Ed growled, even as he did as he was told.
Roy snorted. "You were with the military long enough, surely you're aware of how you're supposed to remove the jacket."
"Shut up."
With Ed's arms held straight up, Roy easily pulled off the jacket, his vest following with. A rumpled Ed emerged, his hair wild with static, his expression disgusted, and Roy caught himself reaching out to brush aside a few strands of hair caught in the corner of Ed's mouth before he actually touched him. He forced himself to take a step back, focus on removing Ed's vest from the jacket. "Where did you even get this from?" he asked.
"Borrowed it from someone," Ed replied, his voice clipped.
Roy held out the vest, privately bemoaning the sudden tension between them; he'd got used to their easy bickering since Ed's return. "Why were you wearing it?" he asked, forcing his voice to be casual. "Everyone knows you're not enlisted, by now."
Something glinted in Ed's eyes before he hid them to pull on his vest. "Welrod didn't," he pointed out, and he sounded quite smug about that.
And just like that, it seemed, the tension was gone.
Roy nodded, motioning that they should retire to the tent. "Fair enough. Did you learn anything while impersonating a military–" he checked the shoulder of the jacket he was still holding "–sergeant major? I see you took a demotion."
"Fuck off," was Ed's easy rejoinder, before he shrugged and admitted, "Not much. We bonded over our mutual hatred of your character and the current shape of the military." Roy couldn't resist a snort, and Ed flashed him a smirk. "I asked him if he'd ever thought he could change things, he alluded to his intention to become Führer, but was irritatingly slim on the details."
"Imagine that."
"He did mention that he disliked alchemists, though he had to employ one because they are, and I quote, 'useful tools'." Ed scowled, and Roy had some trouble keeping his own disgust from showing. "That alchemist was close enough to have heard that, which is probably why she turned on him."
"I expect it was part of the reason," Roy agreed as he set the jacket down on his borrowed desk. At Ed's enquiring look, he explained, "Major Hollandus and I spoke after we finished, before she returned out front. She commented on how I was better than the rumours painted me."
"Duh."
Roy snorted and turned to Carcano. "Please find some food and coffee and take it out to Major Ripley. He should still be resting by the front doors."
"Yes, sir," Carcano agreed before hurrying off to do so.
Ed swept a couple of papers out of his way and hopped up to sit on the edge of the desk, looking smug, and Roy couldn't help but notice how much more smoothly he moved; his leg must not have been as badly damaged as Riza had suggested, if Miss Rockbell had repaired it so quickly. "Well, other than the alchemist, which helpfully resolved itself, I did learn one thing that might be of use to us."
"Oh? Were you planning to share?" Roy returned.
Ed's eyes practically sparkled as he announced, "Welrod has a house in the city, not far from Lee's." And then he rattled off the address.
Roy turned to Breda and found the man's face already splitting with a vicious smile. "I'm on it," he promised.
"See if you can't collect a couple of civilian police to help," Roy ordered as Breda turned to scrounge up some men. "We've made this as much their problem as it is ours."
"You got it, Chief," he tossed back over his shoulder before vanishing into the crowd of men and women who were fanning back out after having hidden from the clash between Roy and Welrod.
Roy turned to Havoc. "See what you can do about organising everyone; most of the furniture is still in ruins, but the building should be sound."
"Pull everything to a central location and you'll fix it in a bit?" Havoc suggested.
Roy nodded. "There may also be a couple bodies left in there, so have people check through all the rooms, even the storage rooms that most of them walk right past."
Havoc gave him a lazy salute, then headed off to start bellowing for attention.
Which left Roy with Ed, Enfield, Tarpley, and Miss Rockbell. He took a careful step out of Ed's range as he turned towards the latter, then requested, "Miss Rockbell, if you would leave the bill for Edward's repairs for me, I'll pay it."
Ed stiffened and snapped, "I don't need your fucking charity."
Roy turned a hard stare on the young man. "It's not charity, Edward. It's payment for all the work you've done here. Just because you're not in the military any more doesn't mean we won't pay you for doing more than your part."
Ed jumped off the desk and rounded on him. "You think I did this for the fucking money?"
"No," Roy admitted, and Ed sort of...deflated. "You never do things for money, you do them because you're a good person, but that doesn't mean you don't deserve some form of recompense."
Ed crossed his arms over his chest, a hint of pink dusting his cheeks. "I don't want your money," he muttered.
"Which is why you're not getting it," Roy returned, and Ed opened his mouth to snap a response, "Miss Rockbell is."
Ed sort of stood there for a moment, mouth open, a surprised look on his face.
Next to Roy, Miss Rockbell started laughing.
Ed huffed and seemed to come back to himself. "Shut up, Winry," he ordered before shooting a disgusted look towards Enfield and Tarpley, who, Roy realised, were both attempting to hide amused grins behind their hands and failing miserably. "You're a bastard," Ed added, and Roy didn't need to look to know it had been aimed at him.
Roy allowed a faint smile before announcing, "I'm going to get started transmuting furniture. You're free to continue pout–"
"Fuck you," Ed interrupted, leaning over the desk to grab his shirt from where it had been flung over the back of the chair. "You sent everyone else off, you're stuck with me."
"I'm fairly certain the threat–"
"Shut up and start walking, bastard."
Miss Rockbell joined them as they left the shade of the tent, commenting, "I'm here, I might as well be doing something."
"Ha. How much are you going to pay her, bastard?" Ed asked, nudging Roy with his elbow.
Miss Rockbell scoffed. "He's not paying me for shifting through broken furniture," she declared, and Roy wondered how it was that he knew so many civilians who refused money for their work; even Chris and her employees refused any suggestion of payment for the information Roy passed on, beyond Chris occasionally demanding that he pay for something for the pub. "He is, however, going to give me whatever Al's owed for helping fix this building, so I can slip it into his luggage when he decides to head back to Xing."
"Oh? You think he's actually going to go back?" Ed asked.
"I know," Miss Rockbell corrected. "Neither of you can stay still for more than a couple months at a time. I swear, they're going to find you dead of old age on a train bench."
Roy resigned himself to listening to the two old friends bickering for the rest of the morning.
Thankfully, once they got into Command, Miss Rockbell left them with a wave and a, "I'll see if I can't spot more of those bomb pieces!" And since working with metal was her livelihood and Roy trusted her because Ed and Al trusted her, he didn't even consider trying to send anyone after her to either help her or keep an eye on her.
He, Ed, Enfield, and Tarpley all got to work shifting through the pile of debris that was being left in the entrance hall, pulling out pieces that were clearly part of a desk and separating them from parts of filing cabinets or chairs. When it looked like he had enough of something to make a complete piece of furniture, Roy would quickly transmute it, and those men and women bringing in more debris would cheerfully cart it off.
"She's right," Ed said as Roy finished transmuting another chair.
"Who's right about what?" Roy asked, accepting the chair back Ed was holding out to him and looking over the pile he had to see if he had enough pieces.
"Winry. Al'll probably settle down eventually, but I'm not sure I can."
Roy set the chair back on top of the pile and turned to consider Ed's tired frown. "Edward, you spent almost five years travelling around the country, meeting new people and seeing sights that most of us can't even imagine. And maybe it wasn't always fun, but it shaped you, just like it shaped Al, and that wanderlust is a part of you. If you want to keep wandering until the day you die, well, that's up to you, and you should never let anyone shame you into settling down. Although," he added, feeling vaguely discomfited under Ed's grateful stare, "you might consider learning how to pen letters, if only to keep the people who love you from resorting to tying you down somewhere so they can keep tabs on you."
Ed choked on a laugh, his eyes bright. "You would never."
"I am not the one you have to watch out for," Roy returned, and Edward turned away with a bright laugh.
Roy didn't realise that he'd admitted to actually caring a little too much about Edward until after another four transmutations. He paused for a moment, surprised, before he shook his head and got back to work; after everything they'd gone through, of course he cared what happened to Ed. Hell, they were actually friends, though he doubted either of them would ever admit that out loud.
"Are you sure that's all?" Maes whispered in his ear.
Roy dropped the piece of desk he'd been carrying and rubbed angrily at his face; he'd thought his best friend's ghost had left when he'd been pulled from the rubble.
"Mustang?" Ed called, a hint of concern in his voice.
"Coffee," Roy decided before leaving to hunt down one of the cups he occasionally saw people with, because the only possible reason he could be hearing his best friend's voice again was exhaustion, which required caffeine. Or sleep, but there was too much to do to get some sleep, so caffeine it would have to be.
When he asked, people were happy to direct him towards the line of carafes and snacks set up just inside the mess, and Roy wasted no time in collecting some of each before finding a cleared space of wall he could prop up.
.
