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batsutousaiTitle: Reverti Ad Praeteritum
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood/manga
Author: Batsutousai
Rating: Mature
Pairings: Edward Elric/Roy Mustang, May Chang/Alphonse Elric, Gracia Hughes/Maes Hughes, post-Edward Elric/Winry Rockbell
Warnings: Spoilers like whoa, Ed's potty mouth, canon-typical violence, pile 'o OCs, mute!Ed, original character death, angst, fluff, past dub-con, past adultery, Ed has all the guilt
Summary: Unwillingly forced to serve as a human trial for a crazy alchemist experimenting with time travel, Edward Elric finds himself standing across from Truth in the moment it takes his leg from him. Armed with the knowledge of what's to come and burdened with guilt for the choices he'd made as an adult, Ed sets out to fix every mistake he ever made and save every life they ever lost, no matter what it takes.
Key: "Speech" | 'Mouthing words'
'Writing'
:Sign Language:
"In another language" | 'In another language'
A/N: And here's the chapter where you find out what both brothers do for their exams, as well as what each of their titles are. Anyone wanna put in any last-minute guesses? XD
Chapter Nine
-0-
Somehow, Ed managed to get enough sleep to at least feel functional, though a glance in the mirror after he'd crawled out of bed, showed he looked like he'd have been better served getting another couple hours. 'I hate Central,' he mouthed to his reflection, before turning to get ready for the day.
Al hadn't looked much better and, when they met him in the hotel dining room, Mustang looked rather like he'd have been better served by a few more hours, himself (as much as he ever did, at least). But Ed and Al were due back at Command bright and early for the psychological exam, so they pushed through breakfast and made their way back towards Central Command.
On their way, Ed spied a creeping vine that was still struggling to hold on, despite the nip in the air, and walked over to cut off a bit with a silent hum.
"Brother?" Al asked when he returned to where Mustang and Al had stopped to wait for him.
Ed shrugged and slipped it carefully into his hair tie, figuring that was the best place to keep it to be sure he didn't lose it.
"An interesting fashion statement, Edward," Mustang said drily, as they started walking again. "I'm sure the psychologists will have a couple remarks prepared for it."
Ed rolled his eyes. :It's for the practical.:
"The practical?" Al repeated aloud, likely for the benefit of Mustang, since he was walking ahead of them. "What are you planning, Brother? You never did tell me, only said that it's going to 'tweak a couple noses'."
Mustang fell back to walk on Ed's other side, frowning. "I do hope you're not planning anything foolish."
:I did foolish last time,: Ed returned with a snort. :You'll see.:
Al just sighed. :If you get in trouble, I reserve the right to drag you back to Teacher and tie you up so she can beat on you for me.:
Ed coughed, his mind going an entirely inappropriate and kind of freak-out-worthy (he blamed Mustang) direction, and decided he didn't want to tempt his brother to violence by sharing. :Noted.:
They were separated for the psychological evaluation, which proved expectedly tedious. The two psychologists who Ed ended up with seemed momentarily thrown, upon discovering he couldn't speak, but he'd brought a pile of paper with him to write on, which they had a whispered debate about, before shrugging and allowing.
They had a break for lunch, then followed Mustang to the hall Ed remembered from his original practical. "I got permission," he told them, "for you to watch each other's practical exams."
Al's eyes lit up, while Ed blinked in surprise; really? Mustang had done that for them? That was...nice. Unexpected.
"Edward, you're first. Alphonse, you'll have to come up to the gallery with me to watch."
"Thank you, sir," Al said, before holding out his fist to Ed.
Ed reached out and knocked his own fist against his brother's, then nodded for him to follow after Mustang. Only after they'd vanished from sight, did he shove his way into the room.
The setup was the same, with a couple of military officers watching from the gallery one floor up, while a handful of officers watched from out of the way on the bottom floor, with two privates standing at attention in the centre of the room. One of the privates looked back and motioned him forward, so Ed let the doors fall shut behind himself and made his way across the hall. He stopped between the privates and settled in to wait, glancing up to look at the gallery when he heard a door up there snick closed. Al gave him a slightly nervous wave, and Ed returned his best confident smirk.
Because he was looking at his brother, he knew he felt it at the same time as him: A seething ball of...there was no other word for it but wrath approaching the room, so much more noticeable than any other human qi. (Normally, they'd have to focus a bit on the person, unless their qi was focussed on them, to really get a read on them, but Ed was fairly certain he'd notice that qi, no matter how distracted by something else he was.) He turned towards the door and was entirely unsurprised when Bradley walked in with his retinue of generals.
Bradley stepped up to the small platform at the head of the room and turned to face Ed, the generals spreading out to either side. "At ease," he ordered, and the saluting soldiers relaxed slightly. Bradley turned his uncovered eye towards Ed and said, "You may begin whenever you are ready."
"Oh," the private on Ed's left said, "did you bring something to draw a transmutation circle with?"
Ed rolled his eyes and pulled the leaf out of his hair, then clapped his hands together and – activating two arrays simultaneously – knelt to press the leaf against the floor at his feet.
It took honest effort to slow his transmutation down to half his normal speed – as he'd told Al, best not to let their enemies know exactly how good they were – but he managed to draw it out, sweating a bit from the effort, which should lend credence to the difficulty inherent in controlling two arrays at the same time, for all that that was almost as easy as breathing when your arrays were all internal. (Or, at least, that's how it had always been for him.)
He twirled the completed stone spear once, then slammed it butt-down between himself and Bradley, turned so the homunculus would be able to see the intertwined male and female dragons, with the symbol for god upside down above them (exactly like the array in Xerxes) at the top. And along the body of the spear, he'd alternated five suns and five moons, peeking out from behind the curling vine that had grown down the length from the single leaf he'd brought. Suns for the soul, moons for the spirit, stone for the body, and the vine for life; the recipe for human transmutation in staff form, topped with the symbol for a complete life form, and the intention to drag 'god' down and make him one's own.
Bradley met his stare around the spear, his expression a study in careful neutrality, but his qi pulling back slightly, wary, now, where it had originally been a mass of fury.
Good. Nose tweaked.
"Interesting," Bradley said blandly.
Ed gave a deep bow, then clapped his hands again and set the spear against the dent he'd made to create it. As he turned away and walked towards the doors, the spear let off sparks and melted back into the floor, returning it to its original, smooth state, the vine falling limply over the repaired floor.
On the stairs up to the gallery, he passed Al, who signed, :Whatever happened to holding back?:
Ed flashed him a smirk and shrugged; okay, so maybe his parting bit of returning the spear to its natural state was a bit more advanced than he should have done, but he'd had no interest in carrying the damn thing around with him, which meant getting rid of it, and if he was going to get rid of it anyway, why not do so in style?
Al just sighed and shook his head, clearly resigned to Ed's determination to flaunt his own rules the same way he flaunted everyone else's.
Mustang was awaiting him in the gallery, and the man standing next to him politely shifted to make room for Ed, which he inclined his head in a silent 'thanks' for.
:Should I expect an explanation?: Mustang signed as Al stepped into the hall below them, clearly nervous.
Ed leant forward over the railing and, completely disregarding any rules he might be breaking, let out a sharp whistle. When Al looked up at him, a faint, disapproving frown turning his mouth, Ed signed, :Do I need to come down there and give you something to heal?:
:Don't be an idiot!: Al signed back, before straightening and pacing forward to the centre of the room with a far more confident air.
Ed relaxed back to the floor, ignoring his neighbours and Mustang's disapproving stares, as well as Bradley's gaze, and signed, :It's from the array in Xerxes. Or what was left of it, when Al and I got there.:
Mustang let out a thoughtful hum, and they both turned their attention towards Al.
Al cleared his throat, put on an uncertain smile, and said, "Uhm, so, I promise I know what I'm doing."
Ed barely managed to stifle a snort.
Al pulled out one of his kunai, pushed back his sleeve, and used the kunai to make a shallow cut on his arm.
Next to Ed, Mustang stiffened, and he reached over and, a bit thoughtlessly, patted the hand the man had wrapped around the railing.
Al calmly slipped the kunai back inside his sash, then clapped his hands together and held one over the cut. The transmutation light flared green, proving he'd managed to stick with both the Cretan array and the western energy source. And Ed was too far away to really see, but he knew the cut would be scabbing over, the skin under it growing and knitting itself back together. Depending on how deep the cut was, Al could very well heal it to the point that there would only be a faint scar left, which was better than Ed could do with the same array. (But, then, Al was very clearly the better healer, whether he used alchemy or alkahestry.)
:You know a healing array?: Mustang signed where Ed would see.
:Cretan,: Ed agreed. :We actually know a few, for use in different situations. This one is specifically for blood clotting and skin cell regrowth.: He glanced over at the bastard as the transmutation light died down. :We can teach you.:
Mustang swallowed and nodded. :I'd appreciate that.:
"Most impressive, young alchemist," Bradley said as Al rolled his sleeve back down.
"Thank you, Führer Bradley," Al replied with a polite bow.
Bradley glanced up towards Ed, then back at Al. "You two are brothers, I believe?"
"Yes, sir. Edward's the elder." Al glanced up towards Ed and flatly added, "Not that he acts like it."
Ed rolled his eyes; Al was one to talk.
Bradley chuckled. "I look forward to both of your results. Keep up the good work." Then he turned and left the room, the generals that had come in with him filing out after.
Mustang let out a slow breath and lightly touched Ed's shoulder. "Come. I believe Lieutenant Colonel Hughes has some pictures to force on you."
Ed snorted as he joined Mustang in leaving the gallery. :Just because YOU don't like seeing pictures of Elicia and Nina, doesn't mean the rest of us have a problem with it.:
"It's not the pictures themselves," Mustang insisted, "it's the sheer number of them."
:You know, as lazy as you are, I'd have thought you'd jump at the distraction.:
"There are distractions you willingly participate in, Edward–"
:Like cleaning your windows two dozen times a day?: Ed suggested.
"–and then there is Hughes," Mustang completed, very obviously ignoring him.
Ed laughed at him.
Al sighed as he met up with them. "Sir, please don't engage with Brother."
:RUDE. Respect your big brother.:
:Ignoring you IS respectful: Al signed back. :It makes me want to hit you less.:
Ed snorted and held his peace until they were out on the parade grounds, headed for the eastern gate, so they could go over to the Investigations building. :You noticed him, too,: he signed to Al.
Al nodded, his expression going tight. :He was a little hard to miss. You definitely tweaked his nose, though, Brother; I hope you don't end up regretting it.:
"Bradley?" Mustang murmured.
Ed and Al both nodded, Al explaining, :We can keep track of where he is, at least, and probably the others, too. I suppose we can do a test with Selim, but there's no way to know if we can sense his shadows, or–:
:Ling could,: Ed signed, and his brother dropped his hands to focus on him. :He had some trouble with Bradley, but he always knew where the others were, and he seemed to sense Pride's shadows, rather than his container.:
Al gave a tight nod, while Mustang made the sign-name Ed had decided on for Ling, wearing a questioning look. :A Xingan Brother knew, before,: Al explained. :Different clan from ours, so we never met him, but Ed complains of him highly, so I expect he's a good person.:
Mustang coughed. :Complains of him highly?:
:Fuck off, both of you,: Ed signed with a scowl.
Al grimaced at Ed's sexual sign, even as he told Mustang, :Brother doesn't compliment people, he complains. Ling is apparently suspicious, has a bad habit of eating other people's food, and needs to learn not to get involved in the problems of other countries.:
Mustang blinked at that. :Do I want to know what I am?:
:A way too fucking smug, lazy bastard who needs to stop acting like an idiot,: Ed signed, then shot the bastard a glare.
Al coughed. :Essentially.:
Mustang hummed as he considered that, then signed, :What about Bradley?:
:Fuck Bradley,: Ed returned, using the non-sexual sign, for once. :I'll be happy when he's dead.:
"Ah," Mustang said. :I believe I understand what you mean,: he signed to Al.
Al smiled and nodded. :I had a feeling you'd figure it out.:
Last time, Ed, Mustang, and Hawkeye had returned to East City to await the results of the exams – the military couldn't just tell them right away, they had to wait – but, this time, they remained in Central. Mustang made some excuse about showing them around to all the facilities their licences would give them access to, while Hughes was quick to insist they would be cruel to leave Nina and Elicia after only two days with their new big brothers, and they used the evenings, after putting the girls to bed, to go over what Ed could remember of the coming events with a far finer-toothed comb than Ed had done previously. It didn't really turn up any new ideas, but it did give them a pretty solid timeline of events to plan around.
While all of these things proved good excuses, Ed wasn't fooled; he was about eighty percent certain the two men had conspired to give him more time with Nina, and he couldn't even pretend he wasn't grateful.
At the start of the next week, the response to their applications found them crowded around Hughes' office, Ed and Mustang arguing over visiting the alchemy labs or trying to get them into First Branch, while Al had completely given up on mediating them, and Hughes had sat back to watch them go at it with an amused grin.
Ed was in the middle of telling Mustang about a book that he seriously, truly (okay, not really that badly) needed to look at in First Branch, which was way more important than the stupid labs, when he sensed that ball of too-obvious wrath and spun to face the door of the office, while Al stiffened and said, "Bradley."
"What, here?" Hughes demanded, his feet hitting the floor with a thud as he removed them from his desk and sat up straight.
Someone knocked on the door, and Captain Marcus Fokker poked his head in, his expression strained as he shot off a perfunctory salute; he was one of the men Hughes had trusted with a heavily edited and slightly more believable for non-alchemists version of the truth, which focussed more on the high command's corruption, and avoided all mention of the homunculi, the Dwarf in the Flask, or Ed's circumstances. "Colonel, Lieutenant Colonel, the Führer's here to speak with the Elric brothers."
Ed looked at Al, whose expression was tight. "The results?" Al guessed.
:Likely,: Ed returned, walking over to stand next to his brother and squeeze his shoulder.
"Please show the Führer in, Captain," Mustang requested smoothly, as he moved to stand next to Hughes' desk, while Hughes stood, himself.
"Yes, sir," Fokker agreed before stepping back out of the office.
"Behave," Al murmured as he stood.
Ed huffed. But, when Bradley stepped into the office, he joined his brother in bowing, while Hughes and Mustang both saluted.
"At ease, gentlemen," Bradley said, his tone cheerful.
Al cleared his throat as he and Ed both straightened. "You wanted to speak to us, sir?"
"Indeed," Bradley agreed, settling into one of the couches and motioning for someone to step into the office, revealing a gaunt officer that Ed knew was Bradley's personal assistant. "I wanted to be here to personally welcome two of the most promising young alchemists I've yet seen into the ranks of Amestris' military. Lieutenant Colonel Storch?"
"Yes, sir," the aide replied, before stepping forward and holding out two document envelopes, Ed's name written on the front of one, Al's on the other.
"We've been accepted?" Al asked as he took his envelope. "Both of us?"
"You have indeed, young Alphonse," Bradley agreed, while Ed accepted his own envelope. "Congratulations."
Ed already knew what the certificate said, so he looked straight to the title Bradley had given him, and couldn't stop himself from laughing.
Al looked up from his own papers, likely alerted by the amusement sparking through Ed's qi, and looked over at him. "Brother?"
Ed dropped the papers onto Al's abandoned chair, then signed, :I am the Silent Alchemist.:
Al coughed, amusement in his eyes, while Mustang helpfully commented, "How accurate."
:Go fuck–.:
Al smacked Ed's hands with his papers. "Stop it."
Ed caught the papers and turned them to read, ignoring Al's huffing. Upon finding Al's new title, he let out a silent hum and let him have the papers back. :Not a bad title for you.:
"The Mending Alchemist," Al said, for the benefit of Mustang and Hughes.
"It suits you," Hughes offered.
Al smiled at him. "Thank you, sir."
Bradley chuckled. "I'm glad my choices meet with such approval."
"Yes, sir," Al agreed, dropping his own paperwork onto the chair with Ed's; doubtless, he would be pouring over it on the train, if not sooner.
:Watches?: Ed signed, as it occurred to him that he wouldn't need Mustang to get into First Branch, now.
Al blinked. "Watches?" he repeated, clearly confused for a second, before looking at Mustang, who had helpfully pulled his own out. "Oh. Those watches."
Bradley chuckled again as he pulled out two boxes, which Storch collected from him, then brought over to Ed and Al. "The badges of your station. Wear them with pride."
Ed opened his box and pulled the new watch out, the weight familiar in his palm, even though it had been almost two decades and a different lifetime when he'd last held one.
He glanced down at his clothing and sighed; the first thing he was going to have to do, was go out and buy the leather trousers he preferred, if only because his Xingan-style trousers didn't have pockets. He slipped it loose into his sash, for the moment; he could switch some kunai around and change the shape of one of his pockets after Bradley was gone.
Next to him, Al was clearly finding the same problem, and he eventually followed Ed's lead and just let it lay loose.
"Good. And now, your assignments," Bradley said, and Storch revealed out two new document envelopes with Ed andAl's names on the fronts.
Ed frowned. Assignments? Shouldn't those go through Mustang?
"I'm afraid," Bradley said, glancing toward Mustang, his qi almost smug, under the constant feeling of wrath, before returning to Ed and Al, "that we're in danger of overloading East City with extremely talented alchemists, which seems rather unfair to the rest of the country."
Ed narrowed his eyes, while Al drew in a sharp breath; so, this was how the homunculi intended to control them, by separating them.
"Silent Alchemist, given your limited ability to communicate, you will be placed with Colonel Mustang's command in East City," Bradley continued, appearing all unaware of the affect his words were having on Ed and Al (and, Ed had little doubt, Mustang and Hughes). "Mending, you'll remain here, in Central, under the command of Brigadier General Grand."
Brigadier General Basque Grand, the Iron Blood Alchemist. He was the one who was in charge of lab five, and the last thing Ed wanted was for his brother to be tied to that hellhole in any way. Never mind the fact that there was no way he could leave Al alone in Central, not with the homunculi close at hand, not with how Al kept climbing into bed with him each night, complaining that the crawling sensation was keeping him up.
Ed snatched both envelopes from Storch and pushed past him, towards Bradley.
"Brother!" Al shouted, sounding vaguely panicked, while Mustang started to take a step forward, before stopping himself.
Ed sat down across from the Führer and dropped the envelopes into his lap so he could shoot his brother a sharp look and sign, :Sit down and shut up, Al.:
Al swallowed and collected their paperwork from his chair, carefully settling into it. From his expression, he knew what Ed was up to, and, as much as he wanted to argue, he didn't. Which, Ed thought, spoke to exactly how much his brother did not want to get stuck alone in Central.
Ed pulled out his pen and turned to write on the back of one of the envelopes: 'If you want 1 of us in Central you want me. We both know the healing arrays tho Al's a little better but I'm the only 1 of us fluent in Aerugonian + Cretan. Lt Col Hughes understands my hand signs--put me under his command'
He passed the note to Bradley, who read it, his eyebrows raising slightly. "Can you prove all of this?" he asked.
Ed nodded, then turned toward Hughes and signed, :Hughes, do you have anything laying around in Aerugonian or Cretan?:
Hughes' already tense expression tightened even further as he frowned. "Aerugonian or Cretan?" he repeated, unknowingly proving part of Ed's note. "I have a couple documents in here, sure. Why?"
"Brother can read and write both of them," Al offered quietly, and Hughes and Mustang turned startled gazes on Ed. "Xingan, too."
:We're not at war with Xing, or constantly intercepting intel written in Xingan,: Ed pointed out. :Looks great on a list of skills, not so useful to the military.:
Hughes cleared his throat and brought over a few pieces of paper. "You've been holding out on me, Ed," he said, offering him one page covered in what Ed recognised as Aerugonian, while the other was blank. "This was translated by one of my men, sir," he told Bradley, while handing the last page over to him; the translation, Ed would guess.
Shaking his head, he leant forward over the low table between himself and Bradley and got to work. It looked like a basic inventory request letter, which he quickly finished and handed to Bradley as Al gave up on sitting still and walked over to stand behind him, his qi an uneasy pillar pressing close against Ed's own tightly leashed qi.
Bradley took a moment to compare the two pages, then looked up and gave Ed a considering look. "You make a good case for switching assignments, Silent Alchemist."
Ed just watched him through narrowed eyes, pitting his stubborn need to keep his brother safe against the homunculus' well of wrath.
"Lieutenant Colonel Hughes," Bradley said, and Hughes stiffened, "is there room in Investigations for a Cretan or Aerugonian translator?"
Hughes cleared his throat. "Translators who have sworn their loyalty to the military aren't so commonplace, sir, that we could afford not to make space for one."
Bradley smiled at Ed. "Well then, my young Silent Alchemist, it appears you are better served being assigned to Lieutenant Colonel Hughes' command. Mending Alchemist," he continued, looking behind Ed, "you will be returning to East City with Colonel Mustang and serving under his command."
"Yes, sir," Al said quietly, his voice trembling slightly.
Bradley stood. "Colonel Mustang, I expect you'll be returning to East City directly, now that your business here in Central has been concluded."
"The Mending Alchemist and I will be on tomorrow's train, sir," Mustang promised.
"Gentlemen," Bradley offered, and Ed stood to join his brother in bowing to the homunculus. "Congratulations, again, Elrics, on your new positions."
As soon as the door clicked shut, before Bradley's presence left the outer office, Al punched Ed with enough force to make him wince. "You idiot!" he shouted in Xingan, swinging another punch at Ed, which glanced off his shoulder as Ed hurried around the couch. "You stupid, self-sacrificing, over-protective–"
Ed caught his fists and pulled Al into a hug, making hushing noises.
"Stupid," Al said again, weaker, before wrapping his arms back around Ed and beginning to shake with near-silent sobs.
Ed sighed and tightened his hold. They hadn't planned for this, and while Ed had no problem striking out on his own for a while, so long as he knew Al was safe, his little brother wasn't quite thirteen yet. As mature as Al always behaved, he was still a kid, and he didn't know Mustang's team like Ed did, for all the stories of them Ed had told him; it was going to be the first time in his life he was going to be stuck apart from Ed for longer than a couple days, and he was going to be doing it with people who were only a little better than complete strangers.
Ed wanted to hate himself for this choice, but it was the best of a bad lot, and Al could still run to Granny if he needed a friendly face, or ring Winry or Teacher if he just needed to hear someone's voice or get some advice. And Mustang's team were good people, had welcomed them when Ed had been younger than Al was now; Ed knew they would do what they could to help his brother settle in and distract him from Ed's absence, that Mustang would do everything in his power to keep Al safe, simply because he was under his command.
Ed could live with this choice, could almost convince himself he wouldn't regret it.
It took Al a long few minutes to calm back down, but, once he had, Ed directed him into the couch he'd just been sitting in, then sat on the low table in front of him and signed, :You know what they're doing. We've spooked them and they think separating us is going to make us weaker, but it won't. Führer Bastard and his team are going to keep you safe down east, and you can try to talk to the Ice Queen during the next battle training between East and Briggs, wait for Scar to pop up. I'll stay here and keep tabs on the homunculi for Hughes and his team, and spoil Nina and Elicia rotten, okay?:
Al managed a weak smile at that last, adding, :And you're closer to Winry, now.:
:That may not be a good thing.:
Al's smile strengthened a little. :Idiot.:
Ed nodded. :Yes. But, remember what I said? I'm the big brother. That means it's my job to take on the crap.:
:That's not even a little equivalent,: Al complained.
"I think I can even the field a little bit," Hughes said, coming over and gently ruffling Al's hair. "We have an extra room upstairs that's just being used to store junk, right now. Why don't we see about cleaning that out tonight and getting a bed and some furniture for it?"
Live with the Hugheses? That would mean he could spend all his free time with Elicia and Nina, and he'd get Gracia's cooking all the time, and he'd be able to walk to and from the office with Hughes without have to make stupid excuses, make sure Envy didn't pop up and shoot him again, just because the universe hated him or something. That would...that would be nice.
"That's a little more equivalent," Al decided.
Ed flashed him a smile, then pulled out his new pocket watch and clicked it open to check it had been wound and was correct – it had, and was – then slipped it away and signed, :Well, I don't know about you, but I'd like to get some trousers with pockets, now we have the funds.:
Mustang snorted as he collected their abandoned paperwork. "I believe there was also discussion of having uniforms fitted."
Hughes hummed. "Not a bad plan, at least for you, Ed. Investigations doesn't usually have civilian contractors or State Alchemists without military training attached to us, for security reasons, so the uniform will help ease a number of potential concerns."
Al snorted. "Brother just wants it so people won't treat him like a kid," he muttered.
Ed reached over and roughly ruffled his hair, dodging the retaliatory swipe.
Hughes chuckled. "Well, that's also a possible use for it," he agreed. "Were you planning to wear one, Al?"
Al shrugged and glanced up at where Mustang had stopped at Hughes' shoulder. "I guess it depends on what I end up doing. If I end up with desk work, it would be better to wear the uniform, I guess, but if I'm going to be going out on missions, civilian wear would be the better choice." He looked at Ed. "Right?"
Ed shrugged. :To be fair, I was travelling with a civilian, so dressing like one was my best option. If you end up on any missions, you'll be paired with a member of the military–: he shot a sharp look at Mustang – Al had better not be sent on any missions alone – and Mustang inclined his head :–so you'll be as likely to travel in uniform as without.:
"Very true," Mustang agreed smoothly. "While it would depend on the mission itself, to some extent, you will find that both Second Lieutenants Breda and Havoc much prefer to dress in civilian clothing when away from the office, while Lieutenant Hawkeye always prefers to be in uniform."
Ed glanced up and caught Mustang watching him, knew he was really saying, 'If I send your brother out on a mission, he'll be with at least one of these people'. He inclined his head in approval, already familiar with exactly how good those three were in the field; Al would be safe, and he knew his brother would never leave anyone behind, which would be a load off Mustang's mind, when he finally figured that out. (If he hadn't already; the fact that Ed and Al hadn't just packed up their things and dragged the Rockbells to live in Xing, had come back and actually made themselves targets, said a lot about them, Ed knew.)
Ed snorted and turned back to his brother. :So we'll both get one, and Hughes can take a picture, which we can send to Teacher–:
"No," Al insisted, paling.
:–and she can burn that instead of coming to kill us. Unless you'd rather ring her to let her know we got the licences?:
Al moaned and covered his face. "Can we just...forget to tell her?"
Ed laughed silently to himself.
Mustang cleared his throat. "I assume your alchemy teacher was none too impressed with your decisions to join the military?"
Ed flashed him a grin. :She expelled us, made us wash the dishes, and attempted to beat us both up. In roughly that order.:
Hughes snorted. "Well, that's better than Roy's; old man Hawkeye apparently died on him."
Ed blinked. Hawkeye? Like–?
Mustang caught Ed's surprise and raised an eyebrow. "The lieutenant's father was my alchemy master. You didn't know?"
Ed shook his head. :It never came up,: he admitted, because that had never been anything he'd thought to ask the bastard. Although, when he thought of it... 'Oh,' he mouthed, before signing, :I had wondered, a bit, why she said she'd joined the military because of what you'd said at her father's funeral.:
Mustang shifted and cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable for a moment, before putting on a smile that looked wrong, his qi pulled in tight and threaded with self-recrimination. "Not one of my finer moments."
Ed considered him, while Hughes sighed and said, "Too late for regrets now, Roy," his tone suggesting this conversation wasn't uncommon.
Ed cleared his throat and, when both men looked over at him, offered, :I have found, that any hell is easier to bear when you're not alone. Maybe you led her to the military, and maybe it was a hell she wouldn't have had to face if she'd kept to whatever path her father would have wanted for her, but at least you didn't let her go at it alone.:
Mustang and Hughes both blinked, while Al let out a quiet breath.
And then Mustang smiled, tired and far too human. "Who am I to ignore the wisdom of my elders?" he murmured, inclining his head towards Ed.
"Wait, what?" Hughes said, looking between Mustang and Ed a few times.
Al coughed out a laugh. "By Brother's figuring, he's thirty-three. Even though he never acts it."
:Consider,: Ed signed, rolling his eyes, :that you may just have too narrow an idea of how someone over thirty should act.:
Al put on a considering look for a moment, then shook his head. "Nope. Previously collected data supports the hypothesis–"
"Out," Hughes ordered, pointing at the door of his office. "No freaky sciencing in my office. Roy, go get them uniforms."
Mustang snorted. "Don't give me orders, Lieutenant Colonel."
"Sorry, Colonel," Hughes returned with a gleam in his eyes that made Ed wary, and he wasn't even the focus. "You're welcome to stay and see these pictures–"
"About those uniforms," Mustang said, stepping forward and pushing at both Ed and Al's shoulders. "Quickly, Elrics."
Ed stood, signing, :You know that just makes me want to stay, right?:
"You're welcome to," Mustang informed him, as Al also stood and they started towards the door, Al politely taking the envelopes of their paperwork from Mustang. "In fact, need I remind you, you just signed yourself up for an extended torture session, spanning months."
:I really don't know what your problem is with the photos,: Ed signed, while Al shook his head and fell back to laugh quietly behind them.
"You'll very quickly find out, I promise you," Mustang returned. "About the time he shows you the fourth photo in a row of Gracia in the exact same pose."
Ed laughed. :Be honest, bastard, you're just tired of being nagged to get a wife.:
Mustang shot him a suspicious look and signed, :YOU'RE not about to start in on me about the wonders of married life, are you?:
Ed rolled his eyes, because he was the last person to go around telling anyone, let alone Mustang, to go find a partner and live forever in marital bliss. :FUCK no. Unlike some lunatics we know, I'm plenty aware that married life isn't for everyone.:
Mustang winced. :Did I crash and burn?:
Ed grit his teeth, wished they'd never got on this topic; he did this shit to himself. :So far as I'm aware, you remained a happily unattached playboy until I ran awry of that array.:
Mustang glanced at him, his mouth turned down just slightly. :Then who?:
:No one you know,: Ed lied, before falling back to walk with Al and requesting, :Change the subject.:
Al shot him a quick worried look, but agreeably said, "After we get the uniforms, I wouldn't mind looking for civilian clothing; everything we own, right now, is Xingan. And while it's comfortable and familiar, it does get some odd looks, sometimes."
Mustang nodded. "Certainly. Did you have anywhere in mind?"
Al looked at Ed, who shrugged and nodded. :Sure. It might not suit your tastes, but there's no harm in you looking around.:
Al shook his head with a huff. "Brother has a favourite shop, but I might have to look around."
:Don't ask the bastard,: Ed added. :He always wears three-piece suits.:
"What's wrong with suits?" Al asked, and Mustang coughed ahead of them.
:From experience, they suck to fight in.:
"Oh. Well, still. It's not a terrible idea to own a nice suit, Brother."
"Quite true," Mustang agreed, and Ed resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Before they had Elicia, Maes and Gracia would go to the theatre on occasion. While you're more likely to find yourself cast as a babysitter, there's always a chance you'll be dragged along; getting a suit now means you'll avoid the hassle of having to get one fitted at the last minute."
Ed gave in to the urge to roll his eyes. :FINE. If we're stuck shopping the afternoon away, anyway, we'll go to the poncy place.:
Al snorted. "Brother agrees that having a suit would be a good plan."
The look Mustang shot back over his shoulder made it clear he knew Al was stretching that more than a little bit, and Al just offered a faint smile and shrugged.
Ed huffed at both of them. Jerks.
Hughes did, in fact, insist on taking photos of Ed and Al in their uniforms, and Ed fully intended to send one of the copies to Teacher, with a note saying she should burn it in lieu of killing them.
"I do like that style, though," Hughes commented as they sat down for dinner. "Against regulation and all, but it actually works."
Ed snorted and glanced down at his sash, which had been partially hidden by his uniform jacket before he'd taken it off for dinner. Neither he nor Al had been willing to go without their sashes, so they'd decided to wear them under their jackets, foregoing the butt-cape entirely. It was against regulation, and the sashes were much darker than the normal uniform – though Mustang had said they were about the same shade as the formal uniform – so it wasn't like they could be easily overlooked, but being State Alchemists meant they should be able to get away with the modification, and since neither of their direct commanding officers cared...
Well, they all knew Ed was only wearing the damn thing for the respect his technical rank granted him, and Al had a long history of getting away with anything, though no one in the military had quite had occasion to discover that particular talent of his, yet. (They would; Ed was kind of sad he was going to miss it.)
Al let out a slightly nervous laugh. "Well, we decided our clan symbol was more important than following regulation, and we do keep things related to our alchemy in them, not to mention Brother's journal, which is his main way to communicate with most people, so we have an excuse if anyone does have a problem with them."
"Things related to your alchemy?" Mustang repeated, frowning.
"No alchemy at the table," Hughes ordered, and Nina and Elicia both let out sad sounds, because they had already discovered the wonders of Ed and Al's alchemy. Namely in that they could repair broken toys, refresh dying flowers, and make origami animals with a flash of light; all fairly minor, useless tricks that Teacher would have yelled at them for, probably, but it made the girls happy, which was really what Ed and Al cared about.
Al glanced at Ed, raising one eyebrow, and Ed shrugged in response. :If Hughes will let us do it inside, I don't see why not.: Because showing off distance alkahestry outside was just asking for that trick to get back to the homunculi, especially since they were almost certainly under some form of surveillance, at this point, but with the windows of the house drawn against the night, they should be fine inside.
"After dinner," Al offered. Which, of course, had Elicia and Nina trying to rush the meal.
Once everyone had finished eating and the dishes were cleaned – resulting in so much whining from Elicia and Nina about them being slow on purpose – Ed picked a tin from the bin, washed it out, then brought it into the living room, where Hughes, Gracia, and Elicia had taken one couch, while Mustang had captured Nina on the other, to keep her from getting under foot. Al was standing in the middle of the room, scratching his head, but his eyes lit up when he saw what was in Ed's hand. "Oh, good. I was having trouble figuring out what to do."
Ed waved a careless hand at that, then stopped at the edge of the coffee table, between the two couches, and showed the unaltered tin around.
"No arrays," Al offered as Ed sat the tin on a handy coaster, since it was still a little wet. "Nothing drawn on it." As Ed pulled out one of his kunai, Al added, "Also clean of any weird extra symbols."
"I'm mildly concerned about why this is an important point," Hughes offered as Ed dropped the kunai into the tin with a sharp note of metal-on-metal.
Ed flashed him a grin, then took two long steps back. He glanced at Al, who shook his head and motioned for Ed to do it, then nodded and clapped his hands together. Light sparked briefly between his hands, before the tin lit up with an alkahestric reaction and slowly reformed into two flamels with short chains attached to the crowns.
"Did you just–" Mustang breathed, his eyes wide.
"Distance transmutations are possible with alkahestry," Al explained, while Ed stepped forward and picked up the two flamels and his kunai. "So long as we can reach it with one of our knives and the object is connected to the ground somehow, we don't need to touch it to transmute."
"Well," Hughes said after clearing his throat, "that's certainly something to keep under wraps for a while."
"Yeah," Al agreed, before blinking and catching the flamel Ed tossed at him. "This is–? Oh." He shot Ed a sharp look. "You really think she'd approve?"
Ed shrugged and, with a quick clap, attached it to the chain of his watch, where it was hidden under his sash. That done, he straightened and signed, :Whether she approves or not, we earned the right to them. If she complains, come up with something about using it as a reminder of what we were taught alchemy SHOULD be used for.:
Al snorted and attached his flamel in the same way. :You wore it before,: he guessed once his hands were free.
:We both did.:
"What is it?" Nina pleaded as she caught the end of Ed's sash and very gently tugged on it, apparently having finally escaped Mustang.
"It's called a flamel," Al explained, while Ed pulled his watch free of his belt so she and Elicia, who had tottered over herself, could get a good look at it. "Our alchemy teacher has a tattoo of it, which she said she got from something her own teacher wore."
"Cool!" Elicia declared, before giggling.
"Can I have one?" Nina asked.
"You know," Gracia said, "that sounds like the sort of thing you need to do lots of hard work to earn."
"I'm afraid so," Al agreed, while Ed slipped his watch and the flamel away. "We went through months of really intense training to be allowed to have these."
"I can do training!" Nina insisted.
"Training!" Elicia agreed.
Al let out a nervous laugh. "Maybe when you're older, if your parents agree, okay?"
"Okay," Nina agreed glumly.
Al looked a bit helplessly at Ed, who shrugged and offered, :They can help me finish putting clothing away?: Because they'd brought all of his new clothing and all but a few essentials over to the Hugheses, after dropping Al's new things off at the hotel. Ed fully intended to spend one last night with Al at the hotel, but it had seemed silly to make a special trip to cart all those things over in the morning, when they were coming over that evening anyway.
And, yes, it felt a little weird to have somewhere to unpack and settle in while he was a dog of the military, but it was sort of nice, too; for all that he'd always have that little bit of wanderlust tugging his feet to go travelling, he was old enough to appreciate having a place he could come home to, where the bed was always the same and smiling faces were waiting to greet him.
"That's a good idea," Al agreed, before asking the girls, "Who wants to help Brother unpack?"
"I do!" Nina declared, immediately cheering up at the reminder that Ed was moving in right down the hall.
"Yeah!" Elicia agreed, jumping towards Ed.
He caught her and swung her up into his arms, grinning as she squealed in delight.
"Come on," Al said, offering a hand down to Nina, which she ignored in a bid for him to carry her, too, which he did with a laugh.
As they made for the stairs, Ed heard Mustang say, "So, how does it feel to have gained a live-in babysitter who's probably more capable of keeping them safe than all three of us combined?"
Ed paused at the bottom of the stairs, shifting his hold on Elicia, so he could hear Hughes' grim response of, "Right now? Equal parts disheartening and reassuring."
"Big Brofer?" Elicia whispered.
Ed smiled and kissed her temple, then started up the stairs to where Al and Nina were waiting for them, both wearing curious looks. He shook his head and motioned for them to go ahead.
Disheartening, yes; he just wanted this mess to be over with so the Hugheses and Nina and Al could all be safe.
He never thought he'd think it, but he couldn't wait for Hohenheim to show his useless face.
"Are you sure you'll be all right on your own?" Al asked for what seemed like the hundredth time, as he packed away his pyjamas and toiletries and snapped his suitcase shut with a final-sounding 'click'.
Ed sighed. :I'm not alone, I'm here with Hughes and his team and Armstrong. And I DO know a thing or two about surviving the military.:
"I know that," Al said, slumping slightly. "I just...worry. Central's a horrible place to get stuck."
:I will live,: Ed promised. :I can get used to the Stones, and this'll give me a chance to test noticing when Selim's around, not to mention the others.:
"Who might not even be here," Al reminded him. "For all any of us know, they're checking on the mural in Xerxes, after you went and taunted them."
Ed snorted. :Unlikely. They've still got Liore and Briggs to set off, and I'd expect the fact that I knew about it and chose to show it to Bradley would be more of a concern than what I may have done to the array itself.:
Al sighed. "I guess. Just...try to stay out of Bradley's way for a while, okay, Brother? Do your work and keep your head down."
:Have you met me?: Ed asked before picking up and slipping on his small pack of essentials.
Al grimaced and grabbed his suitcase. "Unfortunately, yes."
:Cute.:
Al led the way from the room and had started down the stairs before warning, "It's not just me and Winry who're going to have to dodge the fallout any more, Brother."
Ed stumbled and had to catch himself on the bannister. Fuck. The Hugheses and Nina. Fuck.
He'd just stamped a massive target on the back of each of them, with the words, 'Potential hostage' emblazoned in bloody lettering underneath. And it didn't matter, at this point, if he moved in with them or not, because they'd been going over for dinner every night for nearly a week. Hell, they'd gone out with Gracia and the girls to find furniture for Ed's room just the evening before, before Hughes got home, and Ed and Al had been clearly adoring of Elicia and Nina during the trip.
Al was watching him, a grim sort of fear in his eyes. "Please be careful," he whispered.
Ed clenched his jaw and nodded.
Mustang was awaiting them in the lobby. He frowned and set down his suitcase when he saw them, signing, :What's wrong?:
Ed flashed him a smile that ached in all the wrong ways. :Al was just reminding me not to give the homunculi any reason to think they need hostages.:
Mustang's jaw clenched; he never needed these sorts of things spelt out, which Ed appreciated a lot more now than he had as a kid. :An excellent point,: he agreed, before picking his suitcase up and turning towards the front entrance of the hotel. "We should leave before we miss our train, since I did promise the Führer we'd be on it."
"Of course, sir," Al agreed, while he and Ed fell in behind the bastard.
Out on the pavement, Al sighed and said, "I'm going to have to find living accommodations, aren't I?"
:We usually stayed in the dorms,: Ed signed, while Mustang said, "Being a member of the military does entitle you to a room in the dorms."
Al laughed.
When Mustang glanced back at them, Ed signed, :That's pretty much what I said.:
Mustang coughed and fell back a couple steps to walk on Ed's other side. "And what are your words of wisdom regarding the mess hall?"
:Avoid if at all possible.:
"Excellent wisdom," Mustang agreed, while Al laughed a bit harder. "I couldn't have said it better myself. Or, actually..."
:I will punch you,: Ed warned.
"You really don't want to start off your military career with a court-martial."
Ed glanced at Al, who looked like he was considering the necessity of trading places. :I like how he thinks that will stop me.:
Al caught Ed's elbow and pulled him away from Mustang, then slotted himself between them. "Please don't walk next to my brother, sir."
Ed laughed, while Mustang coughed into his fist. "I shall attempt to remember that for any future strolls," he promised in that mild tone he had that Ed knew was masking laughter.
Al just sighed and shook his head.
Outside the station, they had to stop when Al spun and threw his arms around Ed, his suitcase thwacking hard against Ed's own pack on his back and pushing them together even closer. Closing his eyes, Ed hugged him back hard, wished there was a way to wrap up sensations like this, so he could pull it out when he needed to be reminded that his brother was flesh-and-blood. That he was alive and stupid-young and terrified out of his bloody mind, but still so heartbreakingly brave.
"Please be safe," Al whispered in Xingan. "Please, please, please..."
Ed shushed him and pulled back to mouth, 'I will be here, when you're transferred back to Central. Exactly as I am now.'
Al tried a smile. "Maybe a little taller?"
Ed rolled his eyes and pinched his brother, smoothly pulling away to avoid a retaliation. :Idiot,: he signed with a smile that he hoped didn't look quite so much like it hurt as it actually did. :I'll be fine. YOU worry about Havoc's smoking habit.:
Al made a face. "Thanks for that reminder. See if you can't find anything to help me in First Branch, won't you?"
Ed snorted, his smile aching a little less. :Unlikely, but I'll keep your suffering in mind while I browse.:
Al swallowed. "I– Okay. Then I'll..." He tried a smile that looked like it hurt as much as Ed's did. "I love you, Ed, okay?"
Ed nodded. :I love you, too, Al. Go find a space in the queue while I talk to the bastard.:
Al glanced at where Mustang had stepped back to give them space, then nodded. "Okay. Bye." He gave a short bow, which Ed returned, then turned and hurried into the station.
Ed watched after him until he passed into the building, then turned toward Mustang, who had stepped closer, his expression serious. "I'll keep him safe," Mustang promised quietly.
:I know you will,: Ed admitted, and Mustang's eyes widened just enough to be noticeable. :I'll keep Hughes and them safe.:
Mustang's face relaxed ever so slightly. "I know you will," he repeated. "If anything happens–"
:I will find a way to get in contact with you,: Ed promised. He swallowed, then added, :Take care of yourself, Führer Bastard. You'll do no one any good from a hospital bed.:
"Listen to your own advice, Edward," Mustang returned flatly, before reaching out and, hesitating for half a second, squeezing Ed's shoulder. Then he inclined his head and moved with military-care into the station.
Ed reached up with one hand, toward his shoulder, and stopped himself before he could touch the brand of warmth he could feel through his uniform. 'Don't be fucking stupid, Edward,' he mouthed to himself irritably, turning to head for the Investigations building.
Just a year left, and then he could move far, far away from Roy Mustang and everything he could never mean.
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