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batsutousaiTitle: Come What May
Series: Part one of Our Sinner's Redemption
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: Mature
Pairings: Darius/Edward Elric/Heinkel, pre-Edward Elric/Roy Mustang
Warnings: Ed's potty mouth, spoilers for FMA:B ending, canon-typical violence, pile 'o OCs, survivor's guilt, angst, original character death, slow build (btwn Ed & Roy), referenced underage relationships, off-screen violence against women
Summary: After the Promised Day, with his alchemy still intact thanks to Hohenheim's sacrifice, Ed finds himself and his chimera team getting dragged into the shadowy world of military secrets in an attempt to keep Bradley's legacy from causing a civil war.
A/N: Those of you who read From the Worst of Times may remember the Blooming Alchemist to be an Ed fan, but he's gone through some edits since that fic, so he no longer is. (That's now Quicksilver. XD) Same name – real and State Alchemist title – same specialisation, different personality.
Also, I have...no idea where this chapter went. I did not plan the madness at the end.
Chapter Eighteen
-0-
Somehow, Ed ended up returning to lab three with Armstrong in tow. Which, well, he was already stuck in uniform for the day, so he was going to stand out no matter what he did, but Armstrong was just so obvious. Sig and Darius, both of them could stand quietly out of the way and you'd overlook them, but Armstrong you noticed. No matter what he did, you noticed him.
Which Ed would have expected to be a problem, except he hadn't really counted on the fact that everyone saw Armstrong. They completely overlooked Ed because they were focussed on Armstrong. He probably could have walked through the city in his old red coat and people still wouldn't have noticed him.
"Well, then," he said as the front gate of the lab came into view.
Armstrong glanced down at him. "Sir?" he asked, because no amount of pleading on Ed's part would get Armstrong to keep from referring to him as either his rank, or the full-on 'Edward Elric', and Ed was slightly less put off by his rank, as often as Grumman and other soldiers used it, but that meant he got 'sir'ed.
Military sorts. Ugh.
"Nothing, Major," he offered. "Passing thought." Because Armstrong was a lot cleverer than most people realised, as emotive as he was, and Ed wouldn't be surprised if he'd developed the ability to draw attention to himself on purpose, as a way to draw the attention away from anyone with him.
The unfamiliar corporal at the gate came to attention and saluted as they approached. "Major Armstrong," he recognised first, before seeming to notice Ed for the first time. "Lieutenant Colonel, sir!"
Ed sighed, resigning himself to putting up with 'sir's all day. "At ease, Corporal," he requested, and the man relaxed. Ed tilted his head to one side, glancing between Armstrong and the corporal as a thought occurred to him. "Is there a way to quickly gather all the members of the lab in one place?"
"The fire alarm, sir," the corporal suggested so quickly, Ed suspected they'd had to resort to that before to get scientists out of one of the labs.
"Preferably without setting off the sprinkler system and endangering research notes," Ed returned a bit drily, and the corporal ducked his head. "Though I'll keep that in mind for next time Iron-Form decides to try bringing the building down on our heads."
The look Armstrong sent him made it clear he really, really wanted to ask about that, but was being held back by his military training.
"There's a loudspeaker in the guardhouse, which you could use in the hallways?" the corporal offered. "Not everyone listens to it, but it gets most of them."
Ed raised an eyebrow at that; he bet he could get everyone to listen to it. "If I might borrow that, Corporal?"
"Let me get it for you, sir," the corporal agreed, and slipped quickly into and back out of the guardhouse next to him, carrying a loudspeaker in one hand, which he offered to Ed. "Just return it before you leave for the day, please."
"Certainly," Ed agreed, before leading the way through the gate. "Shop room, or front lawn?" he asked Armstrong.
The large man considered that for a moment. "For the sake of keeping military matters inside the military, I would suggest the shop."
"Hm."
Once they were inside, Ed found the nearest sprinkler access at his level and used a bit of alchemy to turn it into a temporary sound system with the loudspeaker, then said into the receiver, "Anyone not in the ground floor shop in ten minutes is fired, by order of Führer Grumman. I repeat: Anyone not in the ground floor shop in ten minutes will be fired."
Behind him, Armstrong chuckled appreciatively.
Ed quickly returned the sprinkler system and loudspeaker back to their normal selves, then joined the first trickle of researchers and lab assistants on their way into the shop. He settled on a 'head' of the room, then used some of the freestanding materials to transmute himself a dais to stand on, so more people could see him – the people who were a normal height, as opposed to all the ridiculous giants that seemed to make up a good portion of any crowd.
Armstrong, standing back by the doors, nodded to him before the ten minutes were up, signalling that everyone was in the room, and started closing the doors.
Ed let out a whistle and the room quieted. Before he could start talking, however, someone called, "Some of us were in the middle of important research, not that I expect you military sort to understand the necessity," heedless of a few people trying to shush him.
Ed raised an eyebrow in the general direction of the voice, unable to actually see the speaker. "You're welcome to continue your 'important research' at a non-military facility, if this is such an imposition."
No one responded to that, and Ed suspected the speaker's neighbours had managed to shut him up.
He nodded. "For those of you who missed me last week, I'm Lieutenant Colonel Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist." He paused to wait out the whispers that went around the room, and couldn't help but notice that way more people seemed to be paying attention now he'd introduced himself. "Brigadier General Mustang and Führer Grumman have given me the authorisation to, let's say, 'clean house'. That means I'm going to be spending this week pissing the ever-loving fuck out of most of you, because I am going to go through your research and tell you why you're a pile of fucking idiots with zero creativity. And then I'm going to tell you what you can start working on, rather than continuing to waste the military's time and money on your little pet projects. If you can't handle that, Major Armstrong–" he motioned towards the doors and the man standing by them "–is happy to walk you to your lab so you can gather your personal belongings and leave."
No one moved, though there was some shifting and uncertain glances exchanged.
"Awesome." Ed flashed his brightest grin. "I'll make it around to everyone sometime this week. If I haven't got to you yet, feel free to continue with your personal projects, but once I'm in your lab, everything stops, and once I've left, I can pretty much guarantee you're going to have something new to be working on. And if you're not in your lab when I show up..." He shrugged. "Well, let's just say, probably best to stay in your labs, hm?"
"What if we're at lunch, or in the loo when you come by?" someone called.
Ed shrugged. "If you're eating lunch during the designated lunch break, that's not going to be a problem. As for the loo...if you're the only one in your lab, leave a note and I'll give you five minutes to get back before I get started."
Someone shoved their way to the front of the crowd and Ed found himself being glared at by Iron-Form. "Since when have you had the authorisation to come in here and–"
"This morning," Ed interrupted, narrowing his eyes, "Brigadier General Mustang took over command of labs two and three. Since he's managing things down in Ishval, he ordered me to see to the changes the Führer wants implemented."
"That still doesn't give you the right to come barging in here and–"
"Either give me your fucking watch or shut up, Schweitzer," Ed snapped, purposefully using the man's real name, rather than his State Alchemist title. "You got issue with how I do things, you're welcome to ring up Ishval and bitch to Mustang. I, for one, would be interested to see if he can actually flambé someone through a telephone line." He couldn't – Ed knew enough about his alchemy to know it was impossible – but it was a lovely mental image.
Iron-Form snapped his mouth shut and attempted to vanish back into the crowd, only for them to, very obviously, shuffle away from him.
Ed smiled and shouted, "Dismissed!" before jumping down and, very obviously, clapping his hands together and returning the dais to its original elements. Just in case anyone thought he was lying about who he was. (There was something to be said for being the only person widely known for being able to do alchemy by clapping his hands together. Which, well, that might well change once Mustang finished up in Ishval, but he'd never done much alchemy, anyway, and he didn't need to clap if he kept wearing his array on his gloves, so perhaps not.)
"Well," said Colourway, announcing his approach, and Ed turned to smile at him, "speaking of lighting fires."
Ed snorted. "Hi, Max," he replied, because they'd parted ways on a first name basis on Thursday. "Anything interesting happen over the weekend?"
"A most stunning sunset," Colourway agreed, nodding. "It was Saturday night. Did you see it?"
Since the sun had set while they were in the circus tent, Ed shook his head. "I'm afraid not."
Colourway let out a mournful sigh. "Perhaps I'll paint my lab those colours, and you might see it that way?" he suggested, and Ed knew he was fishing for the permission that Ed, really, didn't have the authority to give him, but he was pretty sure he could swing it with Mustang, and Grumman would just have to fucking deal.
So he said, "Maybe you should."
Colourway's delighted expression reminded him so much of Elicia when she got a present, Ed almost wanted to hug him. Which was weird.
"Magnus?" a dour voice said, and Colourway stepped to the side to reveal a dark-skinned man who looked somewhere between embarrassed and awestruck.
Colourway's smile shifted into something far more likely to make Ed want to punch something. "Ed, this is James Price, the Quicksilver Alchemist. Jay, the Fullmetal Alchemist."
"Oh," Quicksilver said, before slouching slightly. "I– Sorry. He– Ah, H-honour to meet you, sir."
Ed bit back a sigh. "I don't answer to 'sir' unless you're wearing a military uniform or recently pissed me off. Should I be pissed off?"
"N-no, si–ah." Quicksilver turned a wide-eyed look on Colourway, who looked way too fucking amused.
" 'Ed' is sufficient," Ed offered drily, and Quicksilver looked vaguely panicked. "Or 'Fullmetal', if you must."
"Fullmetal," Quicksilver settled on, sounding relieved. "Yes, I can–" He stopped, blinking at Ed a few times as he straightened, ending up about an inch taller than Ed. "You are very young."
Ed sighed. "Really," he returned, his tone flat. "I hadn't noticed."
Quicksilver blinked again. "How young?"
Ed turned to Colourway, who replied with an absent smile; he was going to be no help, so Ed turned back to Quicksilver and honestly answered, "Seventeen."
Quicksilver stared at him for a moment, his eyes going so wide, Ed half expected his eyeballs to fall out. "Oh," he said at last. "Oh." And then he turned and hurried away.
Ed stared after him until he'd left the shop, then turned to Colourway, raising both eyebrows. "The fuck just happened?" he demanded.
Colourway was still wearing that absent smile, but his eyes were glinting tellingly. "I don't think he knows what to do with a genius younger than himself," he offered, his tone careless.
Ed closed his eyes and dragged a hand down his face. "Awesome," he muttered, not really sure what to do with that. "Is he likely to vanish back to lab four?"
"Later this week. He usually spends a day here for every week at lab four, and it's been almost three weeks."
Ed sighed and started walking towards where Armstrong was still waiting by the doors, not quite managing to become unnoticeable, but coming closer than Ed had ever seen. "Let's hope he holds to the pattern, then," he said of Quicksilver, "and give him a day to calm down."
Kindly, Colourway didn't laugh at his optimism.
Quicksilver didn't calm down, but he was also one of the few people in the lab who didn't try arguing with Ed when he told them to scrap their old projects and start working on something new. And Ed had to tell pretty much everyone to change their focus, because they were all very weapons oriented.
Quicksilver, at least, could use his chemical knowledge to create alchemically enhanced defensive mixtures, and he reminded Ed so very much of Den when he hunted Ed down on Friday with his first few creations, so clearly desperate for approval. His work was clever, so Ed did give his approval, much to Quicksilver's unending glee. He also had some suggestions and one minor correction, which helped keep the other State Alchemist from bouncing back down the hall to his lab – Ed really wouldn't have put it past him – but, all things considered, it was a good start.
Ed didn't tell his team about Quicksilver – he knew Darius would spend the next few months bringing it up at inopportune moments if he did – and he didn't mention him to Elicia simply because she'd end up telling Darius. He did, however, when Mustang came to the phone Monday evening, open with, "Roy, I have an admirer and it's creeping me out."
Mustang was quiet for a moment, before repeating, somewhat disbelievingly, "You have an admirer."
"One of the State Alchemists, Quicksilver. Apparently, he's got a shrine to me set up in his lab and I really don't want to go in there."
A strange, slightly muffled noise came through the line.
"Are you fucking laughing at me?" Ed demanded, trying not to grin, because he was discovering that making Mustang unwind enough to laugh was just as rewarding as getting him to lose his temper, and far easier to accomplish. "If I get in there and find fucking hearts around pictures of me, I'm not going to be held responsible for my actions."
"Somehow," Mustang said in that tone that said he was carefully moderating his voice, "your life never gets dull. Perhaps I should have you moved to Ishval for the sheer entertainment value."
"Ha, fuck you too, bastard. You're going to have to approve Colourway painting his lab, now, because you laughed at me."
"I didn't laugh at you," Mustang insisted.
"You are the absolute worst liar, I hope you realise that."
Mustang snorted. "Why does Colourway want to paint his lab?"
"Because the walls are grey and he says it's depressing."
"Ed."
"Also, he's a thousand times more observant than anyone realises, and I'm all for letting him paint his lab if he'll keep me informed about things like idiots getting the fucking idea into their head that attaching their soul to a suit of armour is a good one."
"Ah." Mustang cleared his throat, and his tone turned more serious, more Ed's CO than his friend (though there was still a hint of the latter in there, like the line between the two was becoming blurred) as he said, "I'd wondered what would have you taking on more work during your leave."
Ed slumped in Chris' chair – he'd borrowed her office for the call, since he'd wanted privacy and a line he could trust – and admitted, "I found a fucker studying up on human chimeras in lab two, and Max – Colourway – the way he said there was shit going on in there, it makes me think there's other stuff, too."
Mustang sighed. "Why did you even let Grumman talk you into looking into it in the first place?" he requested, because he likely knew, as well as Ed did, that the manipulative bastard wouldn't have put the bone out there without knowing Ed would unbury the pile of crap under it and get dragged into cleaning up the mess. (Okay, that was a shitty metaphor, but still.)
Ed closed his eyes and rubbed at them, feeling all the strain from dealing with Darius' injuries all over again. "I needed space from Darius. He was– He's not a good patient. And Heinkel, he's kind of grouchy that I learn stuff faster than him."
"Stuff," Mustang repeated drily.
"I pick up Cretan in not week," Ed replied, knowing his grammar was terrible, but it wasn't like Mustang–
"I picked up Cretan in less than a week," Mustang corrected.
Ed pulled the handset away from his ear so he could stare at it for a moment in disbelief, then brought it back to complain, "You've been fucking holding out on me, you bastard!"
Mustang laughed, the sound so honest, it soothed Ed's irritation. "The madam might still have my old materials, if you want to ask her about them."
"How many other languages do you know?" Ed demanded, trying really hard to sound pissed off, rather than amused and grateful for the offer.
Mustang snorted. "That's it. I know a handful of Drachman, which the Stardust Alchemist taught me in Ishval, and I have very vague memories of my mother speaking to me in what I suspect is Xingan, but I don't understand any of it. The madam insisted I pick up another language as a child, and I picked Cretan, since things were heating up along the border. Not that it's been particularly useful in the east."
"You could have requested a placement in the west," Ed pointed out. "Bradley would have done it, soon as he realised you knew Cretan."
"Half the point in learning another language was so people didn't realise I could understand them, Ed."
Ed rolled his eyes. "I keep forgetting your aunt is this master spy. I don't know how, but I do."
Mustang snorted again, then said, more seriously, "You let Grumman talk you into working over your leave because your team was driving you insane."
"And I ran out of language resources," Ed added.
Mustang sighed.
"I was bored, okay? It was stupid and I knew better, but I fell for it anyway. And both of those labs are a fucking mess and Iron-Form almost brought the building down around us because he's a self-important idiot, so I'm glad I gave in when I did, and–"
"Ed," Mustang interrupted, and Ed shut up, realising he was rambling. "He does it to me, too."
That was...strangely reassuring, and Ed slumped in his chair, letting his eyes fall shut again. "We could design some sort of accident for him?" he suggested.
"Fullmetal," Mustang returned, sounding unimpressed.
Ed felt himself smile. "You're no fun."
"I'm also far too many ranks and a long day's travel from being able to claim his seat."
"Well, get promoted faster, then!"
"That's not how it works."
Ed snorted. "You're talking to a seventeen-year-old lieutenant colonel, bastard."
"You're welcome to have a go at the Führership before me, if you're so certain of yourself."
"Oh, go fuck yourself," Ed retorted. "No one in their right mind would want me leading this country."
"Yes, you'd end up insulting half the country on your first day in office, and they'd have to rebuild Central Command again by the end of your first week."
"Seriously, fuck off."
Mustang laughed at him.
"No one likes you," Ed insisted, knew he was grinning and didn't fucking care. Fuck. Trust Mustang to cheer him up by making fun of him.
"How's your team?" Mustang asked, amusement still obvious in his voice.
Ed shrugged. "Okay. Better, other than the driving me insane thing. Heinkel's all healed, and Darius is pretty good. It's his side that's holding him up, but we all took Elicia to the circus this weekend and he managed fine. Figure he should be good enough to go around town, making me wish he was still on bedrest, by the end of the week." Actually, more likely, he'd celebrate his recovery by fucking both Ed and Heinkel, which he'd been threatening pretty much since they took him off the better pain medication, and neither of them had quite had the heart to refuse him while he was stuck in a hospital bed, which had really been akin to agreeing that it would happen.
Mustang snorted at that. "Somehow, it never occurred to me to wish a subordinate that's as troublesome as you are on you."
Ed rolled his eyes. "You'd think so, except when there's trouble to be making, there two of us getting into it, so Heinkel's the one who's stuck with us."
"Ah, good point. Perhaps I was just never able to imagine you with a sense of responsibility."
"I actively hate you right now," Ed informed him. "I hope you realise that you suck. Seriously, hugely, majorly suck."
"So does your Cretan, so we're even," Mustang retorted.
Ed surprised himself by laughing. "That was terrible, Roy," he informed the bastard, his name coming way too easily, sounding way too fond. And, fuck, talking to Mustang should not be this easy.
"A little bit," Mustang admitted, somehow managing to sound completely unashamed.
Ed shook his head, unable to keep in a snicker.
Mustang waited until Ed had calmed down before saying, "Kain wanted to know if you'd lost your leave."
Ed knew Mustang was probably wondering the same, and he sighed as he admitted, "Yeah. And I probably won't get it back."
"What happened?"
"I called Grumman a 'shit-for-brains'."
Mustang was absolutely silent.
"Are you speechless?" Ed had to ask. "Did I finally do something so absolutely unbelievable, I've actually robbed the great Roy Mustang of his words?"
"...yes," Mustang finally managed, before letting out a heavy sigh. "Am I going to regret asking what possessed you?"
"He was being deliberately obtuse."
Mustang sighed again. "He does that because he–"
"Knows it gets to me," Ed finished for him, disgruntled. "I know that. I know you always comment on my height for the same reason, because you're both manipulative bastards. But knowing doesn't–"
"You have a small temper problem," Mustang suggested drily.
"Fuck you!"
"I rest my case."
Ed clenched his jaw and ground out, "If you're going to fucking lecture me, I'm hanging up."
"I'm done," Mustang promised, and Ed snorted in disgust. "Tell me about the State Alchemists."
"Do you know any of them?" Ed asked somewhat grudgingly.
"I know of Colourway and Iron-Form, but I've never had much to do with either of them, and I know Quicksilver was our first State Alchemist post-Bradley, but since I was already in Ishval by then..."
"Huh," Ed said. Now that Mustang mentioned it, he did remember thinking that Quicksilver was a fairly new hire, when he'd gone snooping through the personnel files. He shook his head and filled the bastard in on the other State Alchemists, sharing what little he'd heard about Blooming from Colourway and while in lab two. Which turned into a discussion of projects they could give to researchers in both labs, especially given Amestris didn't really have the necessary knowledge to really tackle medical alchemy.
By the time Ed hung up, he'd forgiven the bastard for using the 's'-word and just generally felt better about the whole endeavour. And Chris, when Ed asked, had managed to uncover the promised materials for learning Cretan, as well as some books on Aerugonian that Ed hadn't seen before, and he'd complained about how he really should have known to come to her while Chris laughed.
In all, it had been an awesome evening, and the good feeling it left him with had helped Ed get through the week of beating lab three into shape.
After another weekend of Elicia's good humour and Darius' clear pleasure at being declared fit for causing mayhem bolstering him, Ed turned his eyes to lab two. Which, well, was far more complicated because of Amestris' lack of medical alchemy, but he was okay with continuing the plant alchemy half – he knew some of the work they were doing there was helping farms in areas ravaged by war, and some of the research he'd spotted during his initial walk-through suggested they were trying to find a way to get crops to grow up in the mountains, so fewer people would starve if they couldn't get food through the passes before they got snowed in – and he could turn the chimera researchers to looking into healing animals, which they could hopefully translate into healing humans, with enough study and the proper oversight. (Which would mean no human experiments unless Ed was there or, if he could find some way to contact him and talk him into it, Dr Marcoh. And Ed understood why the former State Alchemist had stayed away from the military, after everything, but he would be a lot of help in getting lab two on track.)
He met Armstrong out front, since they'd ended up agreeing that tackling the labs together meant more eyes and, besides, then Armstrong would know who to keep an eye on while Ed wasn't around. (Ed had been a little uncertain about asking Colonel Hotchkiss if he could steal Armstrong from Intelligence for two weeks, because the man was the exact opposite of Mustang when it came to work ethic, but Armstrong had promised he was a good man and would understand, and he had.)
Because the uniform had power, Ed had given in and put it on for the day, so both the sergeant guarding the front gate and Armstrong saluted him when they saw him. Ed let out a resigned sigh that made Armstrong sparkle, then requested the loudspeaker he had learnt came standard in the lab guardhouses.
"I really, really hope I don't have to call the MPs again," Ed muttered as they approached the front door.
Armstrong sent him an uncertain frown. "Sir?"
"Human chimeras."
Armstrong's jaw clenched and he nodded in understanding.
Ed pulled open the door to the lab, already looking for the nearest sprinkler access, when he noticed something that didn't belong: A girl standing in the middle of the hall, looking somewhere between surprised and delighted, half of her hair braided into a pigtail while the other half hung loose. She couldn't have been much older than Elicia, and Ed automatically reacted to her like he did his not-quite-sister: He crouched down slightly, raised his eyebrows at her, and drily commented, "I hope you're aware your hair's come undone."
The girl flashed him a bright grin, revealing a missing front tooth, and informed him, "Meggie was trying to fix it, but she pulls super hard."
"Ah." Ed nodded in understanding, because Al had been forced to braid his hair for him a few times, when he was missing an arm, and the armour meant he couldn't always judge strength. "Would you like me to try?"
She gave him a considering look, then announced, "I don't have anything to tie it with."
"I have a spare," Ed promised, because he'd got in the habit of keeping a spare with him in case he broke it by catching a sharp edge of his automail, and never quite got out of the habit.
She blinked and then, very matter-of-factly, informed him, "Your hair's really pretty."
Ed had been told that by Elicia enough times that he could manage a "Thank you," even with Armstrong failing to muffle his amusement behind him. Of course, then he tossed over his shoulder, "You can shut up any time now, Major."
"Sorry, sir," Armstrong offered, not even pretending to sound like he meant it.
Ed rolled his eyes, then offered a hand to the girl. "I'm Ed, by the way, and this is Alex."
She grinned at him again. "Mary!" she chirped, giving his hand a vicious shake that Ed couldn't resist a grin at; she really was like Elicia at her most troublesome. "Okay," she decided, "you can do my hair. But no pulling."
"No pulling, I promise," Ed agreed, and stood so he could pull his spare tie out of his pocket and hand the loudspeaker off to Armstrong, before leading her out of the way of any foot traffic and kneeling to carefully braid her loose hair. "Why aren't you in school, Miss Mary?" he asked once she was still, assuming she was old enough to be enrolled.
"Uncle Adam's in town!" she told him happily, and Ed glanced up at Armstrong, who was frowning. "Me and Meggie always get to comes with him to his work when he's just back, 'cause we want to be alchemists just like him!"
"So your uncle works here?" Ed asked.
"Yeah! He's a State Alchemist!"
The only State Alchemist currently attached to lab two was Adam Ripley, the Blooming Alchemist, which answered the question of who had brought children into the lab.
She looked over her shoulder at Ed. "Are you an alchemist? Uncle Adam says this is a place just for alchemists."
"I am," Ed agreed as he tied off her braid, and glanced up at Armstrong. "Major–"
"Mary!" a girl's voice shouted down the hall, sounding panicked.
Mary giggled and ducked her head.
"Meggie, I presume," Ed said, and Mary giggled again and nodded. He glanced up at Armstrong, who nodded and left to go collect the other girl. "When Alex gets back with Meggie," Ed offered, "would you like to see some alchemy?"
"Is it with plants?" Mary asked, looking excited.
"Not this time," Ed admitted. "I need to turn the sprinkler system into a loudspeaker."
Her eyes went wide. "You can do that?"
"Would you like to see?"
"Yeah!"
Armstrong returned shortly, leading a girl who looked to be a little older than Mary, and was clearly upset. "Mary!" she called when she saw the girl, rushing past Armstrong and raising her fists like she was going to hit the younger girl, who flinched back behind Ed.
"Hey, now," Ed called, catching her fists. "None of that."
Meggie turned watery eyes on him, her face screwed up. "She ran away! She always runs away and Daddy's angry and–"
"Hey, hey, whoa. I'm sure your dad's not angry, he's just worried," Ed soothed, letting go of one of Meggie's – Megan, actually, if she was Blooming's daughter – hands so he could wipe at her tears. "Just like you are, right?"
Megan deflated somewhat and nodded. "Alchemy labs are dangerous, Daddy always says so. That's why we're supposed to stay in his lab," she finished, turning a glare on Mary.
Mary, for her part, pressed herself against Ed's side and whispered, "Sorry."
"Sorry doesn't solve everything," Ed told her, and Mary's expression fell even further. He sighed and shook his head. "Honestly, part of the fault lies with your uncle," he said to Mary, before adding to Megan, "your father."
Megan immediately shook her head. "Don't get Daddy in trouble!" she pleaded, while Mary insisted, "Uncle Adam's good!"
"What are alchemy labs?" Ed asked Megan.
Her mouth quivered and she quietly admitted, "Dangerous."
Ed nodded and stood. "I think," he offered in the hopes of cheering them up a bit; it was the Blooming Alchemist who he needed to have this discussion with, not his daughter and niece, "I promised some alchemy to Miss Mary."
The girls traded uncertain looks, but Mary recovered fairly quickly, nodding and putting on a hopeful smile. "Yeah. You said you were gonna make the sprinklers be a loudspeaker."
Megan perked up at that. "You can do that?"
Ed shot them a smirk, then held out his hand for the loudspeaker Armstrong was still holding as he approached the nearest sprinkler access. Once Armstrong had handed it over, he clapped his hands together and fused the loudspeaker to the sprinklers. Both girls let out awed noises as they hurried across the hall to get a closer look.
"That's amazing!" Mary insisted.
"But you didn't use an array," Megan pointed out.
"I don't need arrays."
Both girls just sort of stared at him in disbelief, which slowly began to morph into awe.
"Quiet for a moment," Ed requested, before activating the sound system and announcing, "Anyone not in the ground floor greenhouse in ten minutes is fired, by order of Führer Grumman. I repeat: Anyone not in the ground floor greenhouse in ten minutes will be fired." And then, given the children standing at his sides, added, "Blooming, I have your charges."
He flicked it off and quickly returned everything to normal. "Right, let's head to the greenhouse, shall we? Your dad and uncle will meet us there."
"What's 'fired'?" Mary asked, as she and Megan both let themselves be led down the hall to the greenhouse, which was in the same general position in lab two that the materials shop had been in lab three.
"Not good," Ed offered.
"Can you teach me how to do alchemy without an array?" Megan asked, looking hopeful. "I'm a good student, Daddy says so."
"I'm a good student too!" Mary insisted.
"I'm afraid," Ed replied, "that the ability to transmute without an array isn't something that can be taught. You're both familiar with the concept of equivalent exchange?"
Both girls nodded and Megan recited, "In order to obtain or create something, something of equal value must be lost or destroyed."
Ed inclined his head. "To transmute without an array, you have to give up what's most precious to you," he told them seriously, before stopping at what could count as the front of the largest open space in the room. He glanced around, trying to find materials he could use to create something to stand on.
"What did you give up?" Megan asked, with all the tact of a child.
Ed offered her a smile that felt old and tired. "I wonder," he replied, before sighing and just using the floor to make himself a little stage.
"Cool!" Mary declared, immediately jumping on top of it.
"Mary!" a man shouted from the doors. "Megan!"
Mary, unsurprisingly, called, "Uncle Adam!" and made to jump off the stage and run towards him.
Ed caught her before her feet could touch the ground. "Let's stay here and your uncle can come to us, hm?"
Megan gave a firm nod and grabbed Mary's wrist. "I've got her," she insisted, so Ed set the younger girl down. "Stay. Put," Megan ordered her cousin.
Mary sighed and slumped. "Okay," she agreed.
The man who ran up to them looked completely frazzled, his hair in a disarray, like he'd been running his hands through it constantly. "There you are," he said upon seeing the girls, clearly his focus, and knelt down to draw them into a hug. "Don't worry me like that, Mary," he added to his niece.
"Sorry, Uncle Adam," she said, sounding properly chastised.
Ed, who regularly dealt with Elicia apologising one minute, then causing trouble the next, didn't believe her for a minute.
Blooming didn't much look like he believed her, either, but he didn't call her on it as he stood and looked on Ed. His eyes caught on the rank markings on Ed's shoulder and he straightened, trying a salute that was only a little better than Ed's had been before command training. "Lieutenant Colonel, sir! I apologise for my daughter and niece."
Ed sighed. "We'll discuss that later," he said, and Blooming's expression turned strained. "And for f– Don't salute me," he ordered, stumbling over his usual coarse language, before stepping back up onto his little stage and looking towards the doors, where Armstrong was again standing, observing people coming in.
"Uncle Adam! Uncle Adam!" Mary called, tugging on Blooming's shirt.
"Not right now, sweetheart."
"But, Uncle Adam! Ed can do alchemy without an array! It's amazing."
"It's true, Daddy," Megan was quick to add. "He just claps his hands together and transmutes."
"You're the Fullmetal Alchemist," Blooming realised, clearly shocked.
"The Fullmetal Alchemist?" Megan whispered, awed.
"Last I checked," Ed agreed with a smile.
Mary clutched the pigtail Ed had braided. "The Fullmetal Alchemist braided my hair!" she informed her cousin, looking so freaking gleeful about that. "I'm gonna tell Ricci!"
"Oh dear," Blooming murmured, while Megan complained, "No fair."
From the doors, Armstrong nodded at Ed and firmly closed the doors.
Ed let out a whistle, drawing everyone's attention, and Blooming quickly shushed his charges. Once the room was silent, Ed called, "I'm Lieutenant Colonel Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist."
The crowd broke out in whispers, and Ed heard Megan say, "Even the adults are excited, see, Daddy."
Once they'd fallen silent again, Ed continued, reminding himself to watch his language, "Brigadier General Mustang and Führer Grumman have given me the authorisation to, let's say, 'clean house'. That means I'm going to be spending this week annoying the lot of you, because I'm gonna be going through your research and telling you why you're a waste of military resources. And then I'm going to tell you what you can work on. If you can't handle that, Major Armstrong–" he motioned towards the doors and the man standing by them "–is happy to walk you to your lab so you can gather your personal belongings and leave."
There was a brief silence following that, before Mary insisted, "He wasn't that mean before."
"Hush," Blooming tried, while a couple people in the crowd muffled what could have been noises of amusement.
"Fine, whatever," Ed said, rolling his eyes, and someone failed to fully muffle a snicker. Ed glanced in that direction, smirked at the woman who ducked her head, then continued, "I'll make it around to everyone sometime this week. If I haven't got to you yet, feel free to continue with your personal projects, but once I'm in your lab, everything stops, and once I've left, I can pretty much guarantee you're going to have something new to be working on.
"Trust me, you want to be in your lab when I come around. If you have to step out for the loo and you don't have a partner to watch for you, leave me a note and I'll give you five minutes to sort yourself, then I going to get started. I won't be visiting anyone during the designated lunch break, but I will be in a lab as soon as it's over, so don't dawdle." He glanced over the crowd. "Questions?"
A few people traded looks, but no one spoke up.
"Good. Dismissed!" He clapped his hands together and knelt to return his piece of floor to a normal level. But, just as he was reaching out to touch what he was standing on, his eyes caught on the black lines crawling across the floor: An array. Someone was–
"Get off the array!" he shouted, letting the internal array he'd just created dissipate, because there was no way he was going to activate any alchemy that close to an unknown array.
He stumbled backwards, off his platform and out of range of the array bleeding across the floor, heard people shouting in horror and rushing to get out of the way. He stared out over the array as he stood, feeling a lump growing in his stomach as he recognised elements of soul alchemy.
"Go!" Megan shouted, and Ed turned to see the older girl shove her cousin out of the array just before it completed, sending the younger girl tumbling to the ground just past the outer circle with a pained cry.
Ed didn't think, just ran into the array and grabbed Megan, getting her off the floor just before the array lit blue, and then bled dark purple.
And then the world went white and still.
"Don't look," Ed whispered, pressing a hand to the back of Megan's head, and she let out a terrified whimper, her fingers clutching tight to his jacket. "Close your eyes and don't look."
"Welcome back, alchemist," that voice said, so very much like his, but dripping with scorn.
Ed lifted his head and glared at the figure sitting in front of him, wearing his leg and a massive smile. "Let her go," he ordered. "You need a price, you take it from me, but you let her go."
Its smile seemed to widen and it pointed with one insubstantial hand towards Ed's left. "We have our price," it said, so fucking smug, and Ed turned to find one of the researchers kneeling in front of another Gate, looking so gleeful, so unaware of the hell he'd just given himself over to.
He tightened his arms around Megan. "Let us go."
It spread its arms wide. "You don't want anything?"
Ed clenched his jaw. "Let. Us–"
"Go," it said, and the Gate behind Ed creaked open.
The real world burst back into sound around them, Armstrong and Blooming shouting Ed and Megan's names, while other people made their own noises of confused horror.
"Stay off the array!" he ordered, before anyone else got caught up in the dissipating energy.
And then, before Ed could move, someone let out a blood-curdling scream, and he turned to see the researcher who had been on the other side fallen against one edge of the array, blood pooling out around him. The man had lost both legs and one arm, and Ed felt sick, couldn't look away as he watched the man bleed out, screaming in agony the whole time.
Silence marked the man's death, save for the sound of someone dry heaving, and Ed let out a breath that shuddered the whole way. "Everyone out!" he ordered, before, quieter, telling Megan, "Keep your eyes closed, sweetheart, and I'll get you back to your dad."
"Okay," she whispered, voice muffled because she'd buried her face against Ed's shoulder.
Ed turned his back on the grizzly scene and stepped carefully over to where Blooming was holding a sobbing Mary, looking shell-shocked. "Armstrong!" Ed called, and the man hurried over, skirting the edge of the array, looking pale and sick. "Take Megan and help Blooming and the girls up to his lab, then find out who that was and seal his lab until I get up there."
"Sir?" Armstrong requested, sounding very much like he was only barely holding it together.
"I will handle this," Ed insisted, before quietly telling the girl in his arms, "Megan, my friend Alex is going to take you, okay? Keep your eyes closed until you're back in your dad's lab."
"Okay," she whispered, and let herself be handed over.
"Out," Ed ordered, and watched the other two State Alchemists carry the children out, the door falling shut behind them like a sign of the end. "Fuck," Ed whispered, rubbing his hands over his face and giving himself a moment to just fucking breathe.
This was his problem. Even if he hadn't just kicked everyone else out, he was the only State Alchemist with any real experience with soul alchemy, according to what he'd found in everyone's records (and what he'd read between the lines), which made this his area of expertise. And, fuck him, he didn't want to deal with it, but he was the only person who could hope to understand what had happened here, and the last thing he needed was someone else studying the array and trying it again.
Allowing himself one more fortifying breath, Ed finally turned to look at the mess before him.
Without the distraction of the array activating and other people being in danger, it didn't take him long to figure out that the array had been intended to turn anyone caught up in it into mindless dolls, of a sort, only following the orders of the alchemist who had activated the array. Except the fuckwit hadn't even begun to touch on the energy requirements necessary to force his own will on other people, so Truth had taken the remaining toll from him, and it had killed him.
As Ed and Megan had been the only other people in that place, he suspected that meant everyone else had got off in time. And since Ed didn't feel like a mindless doll and Megan had been responding as normally as one could really expect, he was nearly certain the transmutation had failed. (Really, given the connections the fuckwit had been aiming to forge, it would have all fallen apart after he'd died.) Still, he'd suggest Blooming take Megan to a therapist of some sort, and he'd have Heinkel and Darius keep an eye on him. (Which meant they'd want to start coming to the lab with him. Ugh.)
"Thanks for completely ruining my holiday, you sick fuck," Ed told what was left of the researcher, before clapping his hands together and touching the floor just past the edge of the array, erasing it. With only the body and blood left, he walked out of the greenhouse and to the nearest phone, ringing through to Grumman's office.
"Lieutenant Colonel," the bastard said when he picked up, sounding very much like he expected this wasn't good news.
"Fucker tried human transmutation during my 'I'm here to fuck everything up' speech," Ed said, his voice coming out flat, and he heard Grumman draw in a surprised breath; guess the bastard hadn't expected that. "He's dead, everyone else is fine, but someone needs to come over here and clean him up while I deal with his research."
"Lab two?" Grumman guessed, before muffling the speaker and calling, "Days! Call the morgue!"
"He's in the ground floor greenhouse," Ed agreed. "What's left of him."
Grumman relayed that to his secretary, then told Ed, "Bury that research, Lieutenant Colonel."
"No, sir," Ed returned, voice going hard. "I'll be taking a page out of Scar's book; no one will be finding any hint of this." Then he hung up and stepped outside to warn their gate guard what was going on, before going to hunt down the fucker's lab.
The researcher, Gerhard Dorn, had somehow found some of the research about the Dwarf in the Flask's mindless dolls. Since he didn't have access to a Philosopher's Stone, he'd decided to just try controlling a living human. His research had been far from ready for a live test – he'd known he didn't have the necessary equivalence for suppressing another person's will, never mind that he'd had no idea he'd be dealing with another alchemist's personal Gate getting in the way on top of that – but Ed suspected he'd seen the way the wind was blowing and figured it was then or never.
Sometimes, Ed understood the Dwarf in the Flask and the homunculi's disgust with humanity.
After he'd deconstructed everything, Ed had Armstrong lead him to Blooming's lab.
"Lieutenant Colonel," Blooming said, when Ed let himself into his lab, looking very much like he'd nearly lost everything. Mary was curled up in his arms, very clearly asleep, while Megan wasn't immediately in view. "Thank you."
Ed was only vaguely surprised when a small body slammed into his side, and he wrapped an arm around Megan's shoulders. "I don't want to see either of these girls in this lab again," he told Blooming, keeping his tone hard, even as he gently rubbed Megan's back. "If I do, I'm taking your watch and you're done. Am I clear?"
"Yes, sir," Blooming agreed, and his expression said he wouldn't soon be forgetting the lesson he'd just been taught.
Ed nodded. "Dorn's research has been destroyed, and the greenhouse cleaned up. Because he was mucking about in soul alchemy and mind control, and she got caught up in the array, I'm going to insist you take Megan to a therapist and keep an eye on her for a few days. She should be fine – by my calculations, Dorn would have failed even if he'd survived – but it's better to be cautious."
Blooming looked rather like he wanted to be sick. "I'll do that, sir," he promised, his voice shaking.
"Good. Now, I can let you go home and deal with your research tomorrow, or I can go through everything now and you can take the next few days off."
Blooming swallowed. "Sir, are you sure you should be–?"
"Today or tomorrow, Major Ripley," Ed interrupted, having already brushed off Armstrong's questions about his health. (At least Armstrong already knew he was a terrible patient and hadn't pushed him to take a break, though he suspected the man would be passing on a full account of events to Grumman as soon as he could.)
Blooming looked down at where Megan was very determinately clinging to Ed, then nodded. "Today."
Ed nodded back, then glanced down at Megan, gentling his voice so say, "Megan, sweetheart, I need to be able to walk around, okay?"
She nodded as she changed her grip slightly.
Ed sighed and resigned himself to having a child clinging to him while he was going through Blooming's research.
He'd suffered through worse.
Ed let Armstrong drive him back to the hotel that night with only minor grumbling, but he slammed the door in the man's face when he suggested he could walk Ed to his room, then stalked into the hotel on his own.
That said, as soon as Darius let him into their room, he shrugged off his jacket and climbed into the bed next to Heinkel, curling up at his side.
"Ed?" they both asked, sounding worried, even as Heinkel pulled out his hair tie and started scratching his scalp, which was what Ed had wanted, so he closed his eyes and relaxed.
The chimeras were, kindly, quiet for a long while, but Heinkel pulled away before Ed could fall asleep, demanding, "What happened?"
Ed sighed. "I got caught up in an array. Soul alchemy and mind control." They both drew in sharp breaths and Ed felt the bed dip behind him as Darius sat down. "It was faulty, and the fucker who tried it is dead, but you should probably still keep an eye on me for a while. Smack me if I start acting weird."
"How faulty?" Darius demanded as his hand came to rest on Ed's hip. "In simple terms."
Ed couldn't quite stop his mouth from quirking at that. "It never would have worked on an alchemist."
"But you're still worried," Heinkel pressed.
Ed shrugged. "Soul alchemy is complicated," he offered, because neither of them would really understand how much getting dragged to the other side of the Gate scared him; Truth might have told him that Dorn had been the only one to pay a toll, but Ed had bargained with it too many times to take anything it said at face value.
"Okay," Darius agreed, squeezing Ed's hip. "One of us is going with you tomorrow."
"I know."
"Have you eaten?" Heinkel asked.
Ed sighed and shook his head. "I'm queasy," he admitted, because his stomach had never quite settled after the whole mess, and forcing himself to eat lunch hadn't helped matters. (He'd known it wouldn't, but Armstrong had been watching him like a hawk, and Ed wouldn't have put it past the man to drag him back to the hotel in the middle of the day at such an obvious sign that he wasn't as okay as he'd been pretending.) "I just want to sleep."
"Get him something to change into," Heinkel murmured.
"Sure." Darius squeezed his hip again, then pulled away.
"I am a shit commander," Ed muttered.
Heinkel snorted, his fingers returning to scratching at Ed's head. "Even commanding officers need to be taken care of sometimes, kid."
"When you start trying to hide shit like this from us, then you're a shit commander," Darius added from the direction of the dresser. "Right now, I say you're doing pretty good."
Someone knocked on the door.
Ed opened his eyes and craned his head to look, while Darius stalked over to open it, positioning himself so no one could see into the room around him and catch sight of Ed cuddling with Heinkel. "Can I help you?"
"I'm sorry," a woman said, "but there's a phone call for Lieutenant Colonel Elric from Ishval."
"Mustang?" Ed mumbled; well, maybe he'd misjudged who Armstrong would call. That, or he'd told Grumman and the bastard had been the one to ring Mustang. He sighed and forced himself to sit up and pull away from Heinkel, because if he didn't take the call or sent one of his team to handle it, Mustang would freak the fuck out. "I'll take it."
"Go with him," Heinkel ordered Darius as Ed stood, and he sighed and resigned himself to being mother-henned for the next week or so. (To be fair, he'd known that would happen as soon as he'd realised he needed to tell his team.)
The woman led them downstairs and into the office behind the desk, rather than the public phone, which had Ed raising his eyebrow, then left them.
Ed picked up the handset with a sigh. "I'm here."
"Why did Major Armstrong just ring through telling me I needed to ring you?" Mustang demanded.
Ed dropped tiredly into the nearest chair, brushing his loose hair back behind his ear when it swung forward into his face. "There was an incident at the lab today. I got caught up in an active array, but I'm fine. Armstrong's a ridiculous worrywart."
From his position by the door, Darius snorted. "That's a different tune," he said, loud enough that Mustang would have heard.
"Traitor," Ed muttered.
"Ed," Mustang said. That was it, just his name.
Ed slumped and closed his eyes. "Fucker found some of the research on those soulless dolls of the Dwarf in the Flask's," he explained, ignoring Darius' sharp breath. "Since he didn't have access to a Philosopher's Stone to bring them to life, he figured he'd just use living humans, take away their will. But he hadn't finished the calculations on what he'd need to exchange for that, and he didn't know to figure in how much trouble that would cause if he tried using it on another alchemist. So he lost both legs and an arm and bled out on the floor."
"Are you okay?" Mustang asked.
Ed smiled, felt it pull all the wrong muscles, knew the bastard would understand when he said, "I saw that."
"What did it take?" he demanded, sounded honestly freaked out.
"Nothing."
"It always takes some–"
"You think I don't know that?" Ed interrupted, didn't really want to hear his own fears spelt out for him. "It said it took its toll from that fucker, let me go. I don't–" He took a deep breath, tried to get a hold of himself.
"You didn't activate the array?" Mustang said.
"Of course I didn't fucking–!"
"Stop shouting," Mustang said, his voice gentle, and Ed felt his shoulders slump. "Has it ever dragged you over when you got caught up in an array you didn't activate?"
Ed hadn't, but Al– He straightened. "Al got pulled through a few times, because his soul was trying to reconnect with his body, and when we all got transported to the Dwarf in the Flask's lair. But, for me, it's always been when I was the one using the alchemy. You think, what, it was fucking with me?"
"It's possible," Mustang offered. "Its sense of humour isn't really..."
"Funny by our standards?"
"Essentially. Have you done any alchemy since?"
"Yeah. It worked fine."
"Still have all your fingers and toes?"
"Funny," Ed muttered, but he could feel himself relaxing, a smile tugging on his mouth. It helped, having someone who understood, who shared his fear, but was far enough away from the issue to see another angle, to walk him through the logic that he'd been struggling to find all day.
"You're not any shorter, are you?"
"I'm going to fucking hang up on you in a minute, you bastard."
Mustang chuckled, the sound just a little strained, but honest. "Ring me tomorrow night, please."
Ed almost complained about how many mother-hens he had, but then he stopped and put himself in Mustang's shoes: If he'd found out Mustang'd had another brush with Truth, he'd have wanted to hear from him regularly for a couple days, too, same as for Al or Teacher. "Okay," he agreed, and wasn't sure if he'd imagined Mustang letting out a relieved breath or not. "Hey, Roy? Thanks."
"Any time," Mustang replied, sounding like he meant it.
And Ed...caught himself believing that. That Mustang was there, that he'd be there next time, too. That he could ring the bastard any time he wanted and they could talk, even when he was stressed and too close to falling apart, when he needed to be strong for his team, but Elicia wasn't there to remind him how to smile.
Hadn't Ed said it himself, in that alley? He'd keep Mustang from stumbling again, but sometimes he needed a hand up, too.
"Same," he heard himself say, and he knew he meant it, because he and Mustang shared some of the same burdens, and Ed couldn't be the only one who needed a laugh, some days.
Mustang snorted. "If you'd stay put for once," he said, which sort of confirmed Ed's thoughts.
Ed smiled and it felt worn. "I'll work on that," he offered, knew it was a lie, knew Mustang knew it was a lie.
Mustang snorted again.
"Good night, bastard," Ed offered, felt almost awkward, like he wasn't really sure how to say goodbye to Mustang. (He'd never really had to, had he? Had got in the habit of storming out without saying anything, or insulting him and hanging up before the bastard could say anything in response.
(Maybe, just a little bit, he was starting to get used to thinking of Mustang as a friend.)
"Good night, Ed," Mustang replied, amusement in his voice.
Ed caught himself smiling as he hung up.
"I should listen in on your conversations with your CO more often," Darius decided. "That was fucking bizarre."
"Shut the fuck up," Ed ordered as he stood.
Darius considered him for a moment, standing between Ed and the door and utterly unmoved by his glower. "Huh. Are you hungry?"
"Am I–?"
Ed stopped, took a moment to consider the state of his stomach. He wasn't starving, not like he'd usually be by that time of night, but his stomach had settled while he'd been talking to the bastard. "Something light, I guess," he decided.
Darius nodded. "Good. You were seriously freaking me out for a bit there," he offered before leading the way out of the office.
Ed hurried his steps so he could hit the arsehole before he made the stairs, scowling when Darius' only response was to laugh.
Come What May Chapters:
01 || 02 || 03 || 04 || 05 || 06 || 07 || 08 || 09 || 10
11 || 12 || 13 || 14 || 15 || 16 || 17 ||
Extras:
Ch 04 (Roy) || Ch 07 (Roy) || Ch 10 (Roy)
Ch 10 (Darius - NSFW) || Ch 16 (Ed - NSFW) || Ch 17 (Roy)
We All Need Saving Chapters:
Unposted
Dancing With the Devil Chapters:
Unposted
.
