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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: NewAndOld (AO3) asked if there was a sketch of Ed and Al's modified uniforms, and since I saw a thing on tumblr about writers trying art for April Fool's Day, I gave it a shot. I'm still a terrible artist, but you can find the attempt on deviantArt.
Sorry about the lateness of this chapter. It got posted to AO3 and FFN in a timely manner, but my wifi connector was acting up and I didn't have internet on my computer for a while. (Also, only just managed to clean off my desk so my laptop would fit about two hours ago, so... ^^;)
Chapter Twelve
-0-
Ed spent his day off showing Winry around Central, serving as part-pack mule, part-pocketbook, which he'd actually sort of expected, because he knew her. His escort – because not catching Scar meant he still had to put up with guards, urgh – seemed to think the whole thing was hilarious, and Ed was seriously going to punch one of them for all the knowing smiles and winking, and not feel even a little bad about it.
Hughes and Gracia dragged all of them out to a small carnival just outside the city on Saturday, miraculously escort-free, and Ed got dragged on pretty much every single ride by either Winry or Nina, while he and Hughes traded off at winning things at various stalls – Ed had greater strength, Hughes was better at spotting patterns to exploit, and they were both fucking excellent shots, though Hughes was markedly more comfortable with the play guns. All told, everyone seemed to have a lot of fun, even if they did have an interesting time fitting the pile of stuffed animals into the military car Hughes had borrowed for the weekend.
"So, Ed," Hughes asked as they reached the lit streets of Central, "how's your trauma?"
Winry snickered and buried her face in the large bear she was holding.
:You're so lucky I have a policy against hitting the driver of the car I'm in,: Ed signed with a flat look.
Gracia helpfully passed that on, since Hughes hadn't caught all of it, and he responded by laughing.
Once they'd carted Nina, Elicia, and all the stuffed animals inside and both girls were tucked in, the rest of them retired to the dining room table, where Gracia put out tea for them and they could all take a few minutes to recover from the excitement of the day.
Hughes yawned and leant back in his chair. "I think I forgot to tell you, Ed," he said, "but Grand passed on word that he wanted your report of the labs on Monday."
Ed groaned and rubbed at his face, because he still needed to walk through lab three (and two, but he liked lab two) and that was absolutely the shittiest way to start a week off. :Isn't he still in hospital?:
"Word on Friday was he should be back to light duties on Monday."
:Should have let Scar kill him,: Ed signed with a scowl.
"Ah, but then you'd be reporting to Bradley, instead," Hughes pointed out.
Ed groaned and dropped his face into his hands, because that was an excellent argument for saving Grand, if ever there was one.
Winry hummed. "I should probably plan to take tomorrow's train, then," she announced.
Ed frowned up at her. :I can hold off on the labs for a couple hours to see you off, Winry.:
She smiled at him knowingly. "Oh no, Edward Elric, I won't be your excuse for dodging those labs. I know you're always complaining about them to Al." Hughes, the jerk, started chuckling, while Gracia hid a smile in her mug. "I don't even know why you're always complaining about them, you alchemy-freak. I'd have expected them to need to pry you away."
Ed wasn't really interested in tackling the truth of that particular issue, so he put on a pathetic face and signed, :Because I look fourteen and they're all idiots?:
Winry sighed. "I should have known."
Ed rolled his eyes. :Like you're not tempted to spanner people in the face for the same reason when they say you're too young to be an automail mechanic.:
"I–" Winry paused, finger up in the air for a beat, before curling both hands around her mug. "Okay, yes. And there's a reason I don't tell people that someone my age designed that array until after they've seen it works fine."
Ed shrugged. :Well, you can tell them a State Alchemist designed it, now.:
"I'm not actually certain that would be any better."
Ed huffed. Fucking shitty reputation.
"At least you're guaranteeing up front that the creator is good?" Gracia offered. "I know people think State Alchemists are little better than human killing machines led around by the military, but no one can argue that the requirements for a licence are ridiculous."
:I hold to that that exam was easy,: Ed signed, mostly because Hughes always tossed him a disgusted look and scoffed, and he didn't let Ed down this time, either. (According to Al, Mustang had an equally amusing reaction, though it was always Breda or Havoc who brought it up, because Al was way too fucking nice.)
Winry rolled her eyes at him, but agreed, "I suppose that's true. And you did create it before you joined the military. Sort of like a legacy that's not wrapped up in the military." She glanced at Hughes. "No offence."
"None taken," Hughes promised, steepling his fingers over his mug. "If all goes to plan, with three State Alchemists at the head of this coup, and at least one other following in line, perhaps their image will change."
:Maybe,: Ed allowed. Though, before, it hadn't been until Grumman shuffled the labs around and they started caring more about helping the people than making better weapons, that people started to consider State Alchemists as anything better than rabid dogs on a leash, there only for the whims of the military. And, even then, it was still all too obvious that becoming a State Alchemist held you to the military first; that, Ed knew, wouldn't change until their government was no longer headed by soldiers, or the State Alchemist program as a whole was abolished.
Winry sighed, clearly of the mind that leading a coup wasn't going to help the State Alchemists' image. "All that aside," she said, looking at Ed, "you're not the only one who should be back at work on Monday."
:Good point. I wouldn't want to leave that old grouch alone with your Monday crowd, either.:
"You think you're funny, but you're not," Winry informed him. "And Dominic's fine."
:After a galleon of coffee?:
"Be quiet."
Ed raised his hands to point out he literally couldn't do anything but be quiet and Winry pulled out a spanner. His hands went up in a show of surrender, which made both Hugheses laugh.
Once the spanner was away again, Ed offered, :I can't wait until he has a grandkid and he goes all doting grandfather. It's creepy, but amazing.:
Winry blinked. "Oh. I'd completely forgotten to tell you Satella was pregnant."
Ed laughed. :There's a reason I fixed that bridge.:
She winced. "Did it get washed out when the baby came?"
He nodded. :Yes. Old grouchy-face had to take the back way and you got stuck with the birth. Which you aced, so don't panic if everything goes sideways again.:
Winry eyed him, ignoring Gracia's impressed look. "I always love the way you compliment me," she deadpanned.
Ed grinned. :You're awesome, and don't let anyone ever tell you different.:
She cleared her throat and ducked her head, hiding behind her bangs. "Thanks, Ed."
Ed waved a careless hand at her and finished the last of his tea. :I think I'm going to head for bed,: he signed before standing.
"Oh, yes," Gracia agreed, shooting a startled glance towards the clock. "Maes, do you happen to have a copy of the train schedules in your office, or should we plan to ring the station in the morning?"
"Uh..." Hughes scratched under his chin a bit uncertainly. "I don't know. Ed, could you–?"
Ed nodded and set his mug in the sink before going to track down the train schedule that he remembered seeing half-hidden under some papers on the desk last time he'd been in the tiny, windowless office, updating something on one of the maps.
There was a train leaving for South City in the late afternoon, which meant she'd get in to Rush Valley late, but Winry said, "That's fine. There are people I can stay with in town overnight, so you can stop worrying." Then she shoved Ed.
He rolled his eyes and tugged her ponytail, then dodged out of the way of her spanner with a wide grin. :Good night,: he offered, before leaving for the couch.
Winry insisted on revisiting a couple of shops before her train, and Ed somehow ended up with a pair of boots which, she swore, were much tougher, so he wouldn't wear through the left one as quickly as he usually wore through his footwear. They all caught lunch together, then parted ways at the station, Gracia taking the new boots and telling Ed and Hughes, "You two have the girls for the day so I can do some shopping in peace."
Nina and Elicia turned pitiful eyes on Gracia, which she just stared flatly at – Ed had heard more than enough stories about how both girls always seemed to talk Gracia into buying them sweets when she took them with – before they got smart and turned towards Ed and Hughes.
"Uh-oh," Hughes said, which was pretty much his way of saying he'd already lost against them.
Ed offered Gracia a helpless shrug, and she shook her head and left with a wave, resigned to her husband's inability to say no to their daughters.
They ended up with ice cream in a park near the house, Ed's guard detail politely staying out of the way with their own ice cream, and when Nina saw some of her friends, she dragged Elicia along to run off their energy, which Ed knew he appreciated, and suspected Hughes did too. Hughes wasted a few good minutes trading greetings and catching up with the other parents who were there, Ed smiling politely in the background and keeping a sharp eye on where Elicia and one of the younger boys were chasing a squirrel around a tree.
Finally, Hughes led them over to a bench with an excellent view of the space where the children were playing, and commented, "Good wife material, that Winry."
Ed closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe for a minute – he should have known this would happen – then shot Hughes an unimpressed stare and signed, :I begin to understand why the bastard wants to set you on fire all the time.:
"If Roy would just settle down..."
:One of these days, he's actually going to flambé you, and I am going to stand back and let him.:
Hughes snorted. "No, you won't."
Ed huffed; okay, he wouldn't, and Mustang was beyond unlikely to actually use his flame alchemy on Hughes, but still. :Ignoring, for a moment, the fact that she is HALF MY AGE–:
Hughes winced; he'd clearly not run those numbers.
:–she's my best friend, practically my sister, and I want her happy. And I? I will not make her happy.:
Hughes shot him a look that was far too sharp. :You don't know that,: he signed back, clearly deciding this conversation was better kept in complete silence. (Which was good; Ed's guard detail were back far enough they shouldn't be able to hear much, but still.)
:I won't make her miserable,: Ed allowed, :not right out, but I won't make her happy, either. She needs to find someone who loves her and shares her stupid automail passion, which is not me.: Then he shot Hughes his own sharp look. :And DON'T start trying to push her and Al together. I like who Al ended up with. They were fucking ADORABLE together. Still are.:
Hughes blinked, watched Ed for a minute, then took the bait. :Still? Anyone I know?:
Ed allowed a smile, tried to pretend it didn't feel too tight. :She's a member of our clan, back in Xing. It took about two seconds for her to develop a crush, and I know he thinks of her fondly, too, even though I'm not allowed to ask.:
Hughes raised an eyebrow at that. :Not allowed to ask?:
:I may have teased him one too many times.:
Hughes grinned. :Matchmaking is fun.:
Ed narrowed his eyes. :Stay the fuck out of my love life, kid.:
"Ouch." :I don't think Winry's teacher is the only old grouch in her life.:
Ed got up. :I am going to go chase a squirrel, because that is somehow less embarrassing than being seen with you.:
Hughes laughed as Ed went to go help Elicia and her new friend chase squirrels.
Ed spent the first half of Monday tackling labs three and two, then wrote up his report while he ate lunch at the little hole-in-the-wall sandwich shop down the road from lab two, which Blooming had suggested to him at one point and he decided he liked it enough to catch lunch at whenever he was over there for it. (And, hey, there was something to be said for becoming a familiar customer, since he could just walk in and sit at his usual spot and Jerry or Rosie, whoever had the floor that day, would bring over his usual order within a few minutes, without him having to fuss about with writing anything down.)
After lunch, he trudged his way into Command and up to Grand's office. Grand's adjunct, Second Lieutenant Wesson, smiled at him when he stepped into the outer office. "Major Elric. Go on in; he's been waiting for you," he said, before turning to direct Ed's guards to sit and wait with Grand's own guard detail.
Ed raised an eyebrow at the greeting, but walked through to Grand's office without attempting a reply, giving a polite knock before pushing the door open and stepping inside.
"Silent," Grand said by way of greeting, getting up from behind his desk with a faint grimace, so he could move over to the small table and chairs set they always sat at, for ease of communication. The brigadier general's left arm and hand were in a sling, the bright white of a fresh cast peeking out, and he had a couple plasters on his forehead and cheek, but he otherwise looked surprisingly good, for having gone a round with Scar and lost. "Have a seat."
Ed settled into his usual chair and set his journal and report on the table in front of him, then leant back to wait for Grand to speak, since the rapid swirling of his qi suggested he wanted to speak, but something was holding him back. To his shame, Ed had become far better at the silent waiting game than most people, for obvious reasons.
Grand sighed and rested his right hand on the table for a moment, before frowning and lowering it to his lap – Ed understood; it was hard to know what to do with one hand, when you were used to having two – then said, "What you did, leading that man away, was extremely dangerous. You could have been killed, and very likely would have been, had the MPs not managed to track you down."
Right, Hughes' little twist that the barking dogs had scared Scar away, and Ed had collapsed from exhaustion and relief. Which made Ed sound kind of pathetic, but he was only supposed to be fourteen, and the story still had him holding out against Scar for over half an hour, which was over three times as long as Grand himself. (Of course, what even Hughes didn't realise, was that, alone and trying not to hurt Scar because he wanted him to listen, if the Ishvalan hadn't stopped when he had, Ed wouldn't have lasted much longer. He could and had managed against Scar for that long when he had Al as backup, but Al hadn't been with him, and he'd desperately needed that breather that Scar had given him.)
"If you find yourself in such a situation again, lead him towards Command, where you will have support and we'll be able to catch him." Grand shifted in his seat, his eyes narrowing. "That is a direct order from Führer Bradley, and you will be obeying it."
In other words, this isn't like the game of skipping their guards; Grand knew exactly how dangerous Scar was, now, and he wanted to make sure Ed wasn't going to pull any more stupid, potentially suicidal stunts.
Well, since Ed didn't have any more stunts planned involving Scar, he stood and bowed in acceptance of that order. (Because saluting was still uncomfortable, and writing 'Yes, sir' lacked the sincerity that Grand was looking for. So, bowing.)
"Good," Grand said as Ed settled back into his chair. The man shifted uncomfortably again, then grunted and said, "Reckless as it was, thank you. He nearly had me."
Ed paused for a moment, then flipped open his journal and wrote, 'I know. You're welcome'
Grand considered him for a moment, then nodded and relaxed a bit. "I'm sure you've already been cross-examined by Lieutenant Colonel Hughes–" Ed allowed a wry smile, because he sort of had "–and you will likely find yourself facing a squad of military police looking for answers of their own very shortly, but did you figure anything out? It almost seemed like he was using alchemy, but..."
'Stopping at deconstruction,' Ed wrote, and Grand let out a noise of comprehension. 'I think I can figure out way to combat but I don't know how much good it would do any1 other than Al/me + I can't say for sure that's all he can do'
Grand frowned as he read that. "Combat it?"
Ed shrugged and nodded, because this was actually fairly common sense, though extremely difficult without the Truth-given ability to form arrays internally, and sidling along the boundary of human transmutation. 'It should be poss to neutralise his destruction by turning back on him--2 arrays aimed at each other intending to do exact same thing should cancel each other out'
Grand frowned. "The arrays would have to be in contact with each other," he murmured.
Ed nodded. 'Which is why I don't know that any1 outside Al/I could do it--our ability to transmute without external arrays gives us advantage'
"Hm." Grand sat back slightly, before wincing and carefully resettling his left arm. "Let's avoid actually testing it."
'My plan as well,' Ed admitted.
Grand nodded, his qi suggesting at the relief his expression didn't show. "Anything else useful?"
'He'll bleed if you cut him?'
Grand's moustache twitched. "As one would expect of anyone, I think."
Ed snorted and shrugged. 'As much trouble as he is it's nice to know it's poss to land a hit on him + it'll stick'
Grand let out an uncomfortable breath. "True enough." He shifted again and almost managed to suppress his wince when he had to reposition his arm.
Ed squeezed his fingers on his pen, then offered, 'I do know an array to speed up healing of broken bones'
Grand grimaced. "Not broken, crushed," he admitted.
Ed winced, because he'd never quite suffered that particular damage before, but he'd broken enough bones to have a pretty good idea of how much that was going to suck to let heal, and how much it had to hurt in the process. 'The healing should be the same if you want me to try?'
Grand took a moment to debate that, but his qi gave him away, so Ed was completely unsurprised when the man reached up with his good hand to slip the sling over his head so he could carefully rest his left arm on top of the table. "I doubt you can make it any worse," he said flatly.
Oh, Ed didn't know about that, because there was a certain level of anatomy knowledge necessary for any healing alchemy, which held doubly true for broken bones. Ed, being accident prone as he was, and having lived with an automail mechanic, knew more than enough about human limbs and extremities, so he wasn't worried about his own ability to do this, but he would have strongly suggested against Grand asking anyone else, even Al. (For broken bones, sure, Al should be fine, but not when they were crushed.)
That said, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, taking a moment to centre himself and envision what a human arm was supposed to look like on the inside. Then he very firmly reached for the tectonic energy at his disposal, rather than the much more effective Dragon's Pulse, and pressed his hands together, letting form the Cretan array for broken bones, before opening his eyes and lightly touching his fingers to Grand's thumb where it was sticking out of the cast.
Green lit between them, proof that he hadn't slipped and ended up using the wrong something, and Ed allowed himself a grim smile before closing his eyes again, chasing after the alchemy to help it nudge the shattered bone pieces back into the proper alignment, coaxing tissues to form around gaps and hold everything in its proper places.
Once he'd done all he could with the energy at his disposal, Ed withdrew, opening his eyes and wincing as he noticed, first, the warning signs that he was either going to need a nap or something to boost his flagging energy before he tried walking back to Investigations – the more energy you drew through yourself, especially tectonic energy as tightly reined as Ed had just done, the more it exhausted you – and then the lines of pain across Grand's face. 'Sorry,' he mouthed, before forcing himself to write, 'Had to shift fragments back into place'
Grand very carefully replaced the sling over his head. "So, the doctors weren't lying about the possible need for automail."
Ed allowed a smile that felt all twisted and shook his head, because, from what he'd seen, Grand would have struggled to make a fist if it had set the way it was aiming to, which would have interfered with how he did alchemy. 'It should set fine now but automail is still going to give you better mobility in long run'
Grand considered him with some interest. "Know something of automail, then?"
Ed shrugged and nodded. 'The woman who raised us after Mum died is mechanic'
Grand let out a snort, grimaced when it moved his arm, then carefully stood. "Stay put," he ordered, before leaving the office.
As if Ed really had the energy to go running off after the brigadier general right then.
Grand came back after a couple minutes with a cup of military grade sludge – also known as coffee – and set it in front of Ed with the order of, "Drink that before you fall over, Silent."
Oh, good. That should help him get back to Investigations so he could steal one of Hughes' couches for a power nap.
He passed over his report, then huddled around his coffee, downing it as quickly as he could stand – it wasn't hot, particularly, but the taste and consistency left a great deal to be desired. When Grand finished reading his report, they went over two minor points, then Grand waved him out with the reminder of, "I'll see you again on Friday, Silent."
Ed grimaced – lab three twice in the same week? Oh joy – and offered a nod in response, then slipped from the office.
Second Lieutenant Wesson stood as Ed walked out, and quickly stepped around his desk with a thick paper cup in one hand, and a banana in the other. "The brigadier general said to make sure you took these with you on your way out," he explained when Ed just sort of stared at the offerings, thrown.
Dammit. This sort of shit was what made Ed question how deeply in Bradley's pocket Grand really was. And, sure, it could be argued that he was just doing his part to keep one of their precious sacrifices from keeling over, but Ed had seen him order a member of his staff home when he'd thrown up from what they'd later diagnosed as food poisoning from the mess – there was a reason Ed never ate there – and he'd spent enough time sitting in Grand's outer office, waiting for him to finish a phone call or a meeting with another general, to have heard praises sung by his office staff.
He accepted the banana and coffee with a small, grateful smile, and Wesson quirked a smile in response, shooting off a quick salute before stepping out of the way to let Ed leave, his guard detail falling in behind him with quick salutes toward Wesson.
He did end up taking a nap in Hughes' office, mostly because it gave him an excuse to dodge the MPs looking to grill him for a little bit longer, but the coffee and banana had helped a lot, and Ed figured he was going to be torn over that for a while.
(At least until he walked back into the chimera lab in lab three, again. Something about that place always left him hating Grand nearly as much as he hated Bradley.)
Grand was all business when Ed stopped by to deliver his report on Friday, and he looked far less uncomfortable with his every motion. It would clearly still take time for him to heal, but he seemed to have settled into that stage where he'd got used to the steady ache and learnt to move so he wasn't constantly jostling it.
After his report to Grand, Ed nimbly gave his guards the slip and made his way out to check on the abandoned house outside the city limits that he'd told Scar about. His directions hadn't been great – they'd sort of got side-tracked, and then run out of time – so he wasn't surprised to find a distinct lack of habitation. Still, in hopes that Scar would find it eventually, he left a note for him inside, similar to how he had done for Hohenheim, and carved a portion of the man's tattoo into the outfacing wood of the doorframe; the military might know of Scar's tattoo now, but Ed was still the only one who actually knew what it looked like, which made that a fairly safe sign that this was the place Ed had meant.
He got home after Hughes, who raised an eyebrow at him once he finally made it into the kitchen, dragging two giggling girls who had latched onto his ankles and insisted they weren't letting him go. He shrugged at Hughes and signed, :Leaving a note for Scar.:
:Stop dodging your guards, before Bradley takes a page out of their book,: Hughes returned, before pointing down at Ed's two human ball-and-chains.
Ed snorted and rolled his eyes because puh-lease. They both knew he could get out of this in a heartbeat, if he actually wanted to.
Hughes waited until after they'd put Elicia and Nina to bed, before catching Ed by the shoulders and saying, "Let's talk," then leading him out into the back garden while Ed tried to get his defence in order.
And, really? Hughes was going to pick now to get on him about slipping his guards all the time? Or ignoring Bradley's orders? Or...trying to open a firm line of communication with Scar?
(Okay, so Ed wasn't really sure what this was about.)
Hughes sat them down at the table and chairs set out back, facing each other, with a small hand lantern lit on the table between them, so they could actually see each other signing. :What you said, over the weekend...: Hughes started before pausing, clearly struggling to...something.
Ed frowned, confused. :You realise I've never actually SAID anything to you, right?: he signed, because joking about his inability to speak had become something he could fall back on when things got awkward.
Hughes shot him a tired smile. :What you SIGNED, then. About Winry.:
Ed couldn't stop from tensing. :Don't,: he warned, because this wasn't a conversation he wanted to get into with anyone. Al had been good about dropping it – other than asking about his 'mystery man' before he and Ed had settled on ignoring each other's respective relationship prospects – for which Ed was supremely grateful.
Hughes watched him for a minute before signing, :I don't care if you punch me, Ed, but I'm not going to sit back and watch you be miserable. SOMETHING happened.:
:I'm not MISERABLE!: Ed signed angrily. :Why is it that you arseholes always assume that my wanting Winry to find someone else to marry makes me miserable?:
Hughes tilted his head slightly, interest glinting in his eyes. :More than just me?:
Ed glared at him and pointedly crossed his arms over his chest.
:Al,: Hughes decided. :You wouldn't sit still to let anyone else pry into your personal life. I'm kind of surprised you're sitting still for me.: He raised an eyebrow.
Ed clenched his jaw. He knew this tactic, this attempt to gently prod him into talking again, because then he might accidentally answer the questions Hughes really cared about. The worst part was, it was going to work for the same reason that Ed hadn't just got up and walked away: :We live in the same house and you're my direct superior. Avoiding you is an effort in futility.:
:Something we agree on,: Hughes agreed with a smile that made Ed seriously consider taking him at his word about not caring if he got punched.
Ed tightened his hands into fists for a moment, then took a careful breath and forced his hands to relax, held them up to sign, :She's extremely passionate about automail, and I've always cared more about alchemy. We got along fine, but we didn't always fit quite right. And, besides, I liked to travel. It drove her nuts, but I don't have the patience to sit around in Rush Valley for more than a couple months in a row. We work well as friends, but not spouses.:
Hughes considered that for a moment, then gave a slow nod. :I can see that, I suppose,: he allowed. :You two argued a lot, and I've seen how quickly you can get bored with something.:
Well, that was certainly the truth; Ed may officially be on the Investigations staff as a translator, but Hughes had taken to passing along all sorts of weird or interesting cases, in an attempt to keep Ed from snooping through his desk or taking a nap on one of his couches to get away from his translation work. Because, fucking hell, it got really boring translating the same things for days at a time, and Ed needed something unrelated to keep his brain from turning to mush. And, no, abusing the alchemy researchers didn't count, because he didn't have to think during his inspections, beyond those few occasions when his brain jumped ahead of the researchers, saw their maths were all fucked to hell, and he had to find a way to explain their error in a manner that their tiny brains would understand.
(Like anyone was really surprised that Ed had issues with some of the alchemy researchers.)
:But you also said she needs someone who loves her, which is not you.:
Ed frowned. Had he said that? That was a stupid slip. :I love her,: he returned. :She's my best friend.:
:Practically your sister,: Hughes signed, nodding. :But I don't think you'd have married her if you'd thought that way from the start, so something must have changed.:
Ed stared at him, flailing a bit internally; fucking Hughes and his perceptiveness. :I told you, our passions–:
:You're both already passionate about two different things,: Hughes signed, something about his expression leading Ed to just sort of...drop his own hands into his lap. :You said you started studying alchemy as a young child, and she grew up with automail, knew enough to help make your leg. You've had different passions almost as long as you've known each other; that never changed.:
Ed shoved himself out of his seat. :I'm going to bed,: he declared, because he needed time to figure out how to handle Hughes. He should have just walked away from the start, taken some time to get everything straight in a way that would make sense and shut the prying arse down, but he hadn't and now he was regretting it. He started back toward the door into the house.
"Did she cheat?" Hughes asked quietly, resorting to speaking because Ed wasn't looking at him.
Ed spun to stare at him in disbelief. Winry? The one to cheat? :NO!:
:Did YOU cheat?: Hughes pressed, like a dog on the hunt.
(There was a joke there, probably.)
Ed couldn't bring himself to do anything more than stare, because how had Hughes even reached that conclusion? How the fuck had he jumped from 'different passions' to 'someone cheated'?
Hughes shifted, the light from the hand-lantern casting long shadows across his face, giving him a vaguely sinister air. :Another alchemist,: he signed. :That's why you're so caught up on her finding someone who shares her passions, because that's what you did.:
Shit.
:You realised that you loved someone more than you love Winry.:
Nope. He couldn't– He wasn't–
Ed shook his head and very firmly turned around and walked into the house, straight past Gracia's concerned, "Ed?" and upstairs to hide in his bed.
He had just long enough to start thinking he should get up and change into his pyjamas, before someone knocked lightly on the doorframe. "Ed," Hughes said, unmuffled because Ed had forgotten to close his room door behind himself, dammit.
Maybe if he pretended he was asleep...
Hughes sighed. "People fall in and out of love. It happens, and I'm sure Winry understood–"
Ed couldn't stop a snort.
Hughes was quiet for a moment before asking, "She didn't understand, or you never told her?"
He wasn't going away, clearly, and he wasn't going to let this go. Which, well, Ed had heard plenty, over the years, about how Hughes kept on after Mustang, even going so far as to try setting him up on blind dates a few times...
He sighed and shoved off his blankets so he could sit up and shoot Hughes a disgusted look. :What am I, your new charity project?:
"Yes," Hughes decided. "Though I find I prefer 'happiness project'."
:You're full of poop.:
Hughes' mouth tilted up at that child-friendly sign, but his qi was a curled mass of concern, laced through with curiosity, and there was so very clearly no way he was letting this go.
Ed ran his hands through his hair, tugging out his hair tie, and sighed again as it fell to his shoulders in a loose mess. :I never told her,: he admitted, after tossing the hair tie in the general direction of his dresser, not caring when it fell short.
Hughes' mouth turned down and he stepped into the room. "As much as you hate liars, you were having an affair and–"
:It wasn't a fucking AFFAIR,: Ed signed angrily. :I slept with him ONCE.:
Hughes paused, his eyebrows raising. "Him?"
Oh, fuck. How the fuck did he slip again? :Is there some sort of 'pry into Ed's life' alchemy?: he complained.
"Doing alchemy would be a first for me," Hughes commented, catching the chair shoved under Ed's tiny writing desk and pulling it out to sit on. "Male alchemist," he mused, his eyes way too sharp behind his glasses. "Should I start guessing?"
:Why does it even MATTER?: Ed demanded, irritated. :I slept with someone once, it was a shit fucking life choice, and like Al's always reminding me, it didn't actually HAPPEN.:
Hughes considered that for a moment, before nodding. "I suppose that's true." And then he caught Ed's gaze, his own too aware, too knowledgeable. "So that means you can start fresh, right? If you don't have Winry weighing on your conscience–"
Ed laughed silently, let his expression twist into something that wasn't even a little bit happy. :You really are far too attached to this dream of a happily ever after. He was drunk and I was stupid; he doesn't love me, I was just a ready body.: He looked away, feeling a bit like the Gate had somehow opened in the centre of his chest.
"You know," Hughes said quietly, "I keep running through all the alchemists I know."
Ed snorted. :You don't know him.:
"I think I do," Hughes corrected, and Ed barely stopped himself from shooting him a panicked look. "Because if I didn't, you would just use his name-sign."
:Or,: Ed signed with an irritated look that felt false, :I know you're going to meet him eventually and just don't want you matchmaking.:
Hughes nodded. "Could be," he agreed, but Ed knew he wasn't buying it. Hughes looked like he was thinking about it for a moment, then he leant forward, intent. "I'm willing to bet real money that you weren't just a 'ready body'."
Ed forced a smile that ached. :Right,: he managed, his hands feeling heavy.
"I'll bet he used your name, too," Hughes continued, "and, as drunk as he might have been, he kept asking if it was okay."
Ed's smile just sort of...failed, and he found himself staring at Hughes in disbelief, because how did he know?
Hughes smiled at him, then, entirely too kind. "You told me so yourself, that there's only one State Alchemist you trust without reservation, other than Al."
Fuck.
Hughes sat back in Ed's desk chair, the light from the hallway throwing a glare across his glasses and hiding his eyes from sight. "You bought into the lies, didn't you?" he guessed. "Roy Mustang the womaniser, has more notches in his bedpost than he is months old."
He really did know. Fuck.
"Always a different woman, every night."
Except...
"He wines them and dines them, and then he takes them home. And they take that walk of shame with pride."
Hughes wasn't...angry. His qi was calm, almost...happy. And Ed had spent enough time around him to know that, even when Hughes managed to control his face, his qi would give him away. (Which held true for Amestrisans in general, in Ed's experience, likely because they just didn't know there was anything else to control.)
"I bought into it too, at first," Hughes continued, humour in his voice, "even though I met him at the academy, and he was way too serious about his studies, then. Women didn't seem to figure in to...anything. When you talk to cadets, they always have one or a handful of people to protect – family, friends, a lover – and I was the same, but Roy – and I think you know this already – he wanted to protect everyone."
Ed shifted and nodded, pressing his fingers tight against his thighs, uncertain what else to do with them. Even if Hawkeye hadn't told him Mustang's trickle-down protection plan, it had become pretty obvious when his first act as Führer was to drag parliament out of their hovel and demand they start writing up peace treaties with their neighbours.
"It was the same in that desert. He didn't have anyone back home – or, at least, no one he'd talk about – and he never talked about women. I thought I just needed to find him someone, and I knew of another alchemist out there who pretty much kept to herself, so I dragged them together. And they got on well, debated your freakish science over dinner, then kicked me out of the tent on those nights we were all in the same general vicinity." He raised his eyebrows at Ed.
:I really will punch you in a minute,: Ed warned, glad that he didn't have to speak to communicate, for once, because his mouth was as dry as the Great Desert.
Hughes' mouth quirked, but there was a sadness to the curl of it. "After it was over, she requested a reassignment north, where the climate was completely opposite. I thought Roy would go after her, but he didn't. When I asked, he said it was her choice, and then he started on about finding new women in Central and I walked away. It took me months to realise he'd done that so I'd drop the topic and, by then, they'd exchanged a few letters and he'd just start talking about her recent news when I brought her up."
Hughes shifted forward slightly, the glare from the hallway light only hiding one eye, now, showing the other to be... Ed wasn't sure what that emotion was, and Hughes' qi wasn't helping him figure it out, was still too overwhelmingly calm.
"When we got back to Central, he started dating around. I had no idea how he found so many dates, one right after another, almost as soon as we got in, so I stalked them a bit."
Ed couldn't even pretend to be surprised.
"And, what do you know, it was always the same fifteen or so women."
Ed blinked. Wait...what? But he'd seen Mustang's date book once, when Havoc had got his hands on it and passed it around the office, and it was a freaking journal of women. There were some repeat names, sure, but they were common ones. Ones that had been popular around the same time.
"I finally cornered him about it," Hughes admitted, definitely amused, "and he took me to this little run-down pub and introduced me to the proprietor, a Madam Christmas. It turns out she runs something of an underground intelligence network, using women – often prostitutes, but pretty much anyone who's positioned to overhear useful information – to gather and pass on intelligence to sources she trusts."
Ed's brain just sort of stopped for a minute, before flipping around and eyeballing this new information, looking for flaws and not finding any.
He knew all-too-well how scarily brilliant and resourceful women could be, and how easily they were overlooked. And Mustang had always known things that Ed had left out of his reports, local knowledge that, asking around, none of his team had known. It had always irritated and confused Ed, as a kid, that Mustang had managed to keep such close tabs on him.
But all that had vanished when he went up to Briggs and fell off the map. When he'd asked, way later, Mustang had admitted that he'd heard some whispers, but Greed's determination to avoid any of Bradley's spies, had also managed to evade Mustang's, apparently despite the homunculus' unfortunate habit of picking up partners for the night whenever he could.
Hughes sat forward, elbows on his knees. "He's charming and he honestly cares about people, which can look a lot like flirting, if you don't look too hard, and he does occasionally go out on real dates, when I've set him up, or when it's a chance to get in good with some higher up, but those rarely seem to go home with him." He offered Ed a knowing smile. "Roy doesn't sleep with just anyone, Ed, and I doubt that's going to change in future."
Ed forced a smile that felt hollow. :Thanks for reassuring my stupid teenage hormones that they're not getting excited about a whore.:
Hughes tilted his head. "I don't understand why you and Roy both refuse to try for a relationship that clearly makes you happy."
:There was nothing happy about what I did!: Ed signed in an angry rush.
Hughes reached forward and caught his hands. "What you did," he said quietly, "is only in your mind. And maybe it's real to you, but I think you've already proven that you have the power to change those things you regret. Why can't you change this, too?" He squeezed Ed's hands once before letting go.
Ed swallowed, had to ask, :Why aren't you angry?:
Hughes blinked, and then he sighed and shook his head. "Why would I be? Ed, I know you, and it's pretty obvious that you've been beating yourself up about this ever since it happened. We all make mistakes, and maybe that one was kind of ugly, but you can't punish yourself forever because of one incident. If you want to make amends, then buck up and make amends, and don't be surprised when Roy says you can apologise by letting him take you out on a date."
Ed huffed. :He can't date his fourteen-year-old subordinate!:
"You're not fourteen, as you're so fond of reminding us," Hughes returned with a smile, "and you're not his subordinate, you're mine."
'Oh.' Ed had forgotten about that. A part of him would always be a member of Mustang's team, but he technically...wasn't, any more, was he? He'd slotted himself into Investigations under Hughes, and Mustang was general administration. The bastard would work with their department when it suited him – and Hughes being his best friend meant it would suit him more often than not – but he didn't have any more control over Ed than any colonel would.
And the age thing...yeah. Everyone who they would struggle to hide it from already knew Ed was over twice as old as he looked.
...he was actually considering this. What the fuck? He was only sticking around until the Dwarf in the Flask was tossed back to the Gate, then he was going to go bury his head in Xing.
"You're trying so hard to make everyone else happy, why can't you do the same for yourself?" Hughes asked, apparently invoking some weird alchemy to read Ed's mind.
Ed threw him his most vicious glare.
Hughes smiled and ruffled his hair, unconcerned by the silent promise of violence. "Tell you what," he offered, his eyes catching the light from the hall and gleaming, "I'll make you a deal: You write Roy a letter, which I can send through secure channels, and I promise not to pester you about relationships again."
That was... That should not have been tempting. The last thing Ed had ever wanted to do was share that secret with anyone, let alone Mustang, but he'd heard plenty about how obnoxious Hughes could get when he and Mustang only talked over the phone once a week, and he really didn't want to know how much worse he'd be when Ed couldn't escape from him.
But telling Mustang.
Well, on the up side, it should be a few months yet before Mustang was transferred to Central, so if he was angry, he'd have time to cool off before Ed had to deal with him in person, which was far preferable to Hughes pushing things after Mustang was back. And they were both professional enough – Ed hoped – that they could work together long enough to take down the Dwarf in the Flask, and then Ed could resign and head back to Xing. And, once Mustang told him where he could shove it, maybe his brain would stop with the stupid wet dreams shit, or just get stuck on someone who wasn't a walking problem.
The pros were vastly outweighing the cons. Dammit.
:Fine,: he signed. :I'll write Führer Bastard.:
Hughes' smile widened, lit with victory. "Good. I'll leave you to your writing things, now," he announced, standing and patting the chair he'd been sitting in.
Ed turned a flat look on him. :I'm going to bed. Get out.:
"Good night, Ed," Hughes replied, unbothered. He flipped on the room light and closed the door as he left, leaving Ed in brightly lit privacy.
Ed found his eyes drawn to his writing desk and he sighed before getting up to put the chair back. Fucking Hughes. Fucking Mustang.
He changed for bed, managed about twenty minutes of twisting around under his covers, then gave it up as a bad job and got up to write the letter so his brain would shut the fuck off and finally let him sleep.
Bastard,
I take back every mocking comment I ever made about your need to avoid Hughes--I may actually kill him myself. Related: This letter only exists because I'm being bribed with Hughes not pestering me about fucking relationships any more.
I told you that I had to carry you home after your celebration party, because you were drunk as fuck. (Seriously, you were talking to lamp posts. I think you saluted a couple, and I distinctly remember you flipping one off. You might have thought it was one of the other generals.)Whatever. Fuck.
What I didn't tell you was you asked me to stay, and I did. Even though I was married and you were drunk and I should have fucking left.
And I fucking KNOW nothing like that happened, really, okay? Al and fucking Hughes keep making that point, except it DID happen. I remember it.
Fuck, I don't even know if that you remembered anything about it. I didn't see him--I didn't see you again until you burst into Granny's house.
I'm fucking rambling in a letter because Hughes is a fucking jerk and I should be sleeping.
I'm sorry. That I used that other you and that I'm dragging you-you into it.Fucking Hughes.
E. Elric
Monday morning, as he was setting his breakfast dishes in the sink, snickering at Hughes' retelling of the weird-arse dream he'd had the night before, Ed's qi-sense caught on something wrong.
He froze, turning in the direction of the wrongness and trying to figure out what it was. It seemed like it was approaching the house, almost.
"Ed?" Hughes called.
And then the thing crossed some sort of intangible boundary and Ed realised what he was sensing: an innumerable crowd of souls, pressed so tightly together, it was impossible to separate them out. And everything about them felt...muted. Maybe because there were so many, so tightly packed together, each one drowning out the others?
No, Ed realised, as he shoved away from the worktop and started towards the front of the house. It was far more likely they were muted because they were trapped in a Stone, which was hidden in a host.
"Ed? What is it?" Hughes called again, clearly concerned.
:Homunculus,: Ed signed over his shoulder.
There was a pause behind him, then Hughes ordered, "Everyone into the cellar."
"But, Papa–"
"Now, Nina."
Ed caught the front-facing curtains with one hand and pulled them out of the way so he could look outside, looking in the direction of the homunculus. He couldn't tell which one it was, beyond it not being Bradley, which kind of unnerved him.
Well, it did explain why Ling and Lan Fan hadn't recognised Bradley for what he was from the start. If Bradley was a human-turned-homunculus, it was possible that his human qi had filled with the Dwarf in the Flask's wrath, and that had overpowered the sensation of the Stone. It was also possible he just had a smaller Stone; it's not like Ed had ever been in a position to compare between the seven.
He felt Hughes step up to his side shortly before a military car started up the street, apparently carrying the homunculus. Ed glanced towards the clock on the wall, spotting the gun in Hughes' hand out of the corner of his eye, and opened his mouth in a silent 'ah' as he realised this was about the time his guard escort usually showed up.
:Part of my guard, I guess,: he signed to Hughes.
"Bradley's obviously tired of you giving them the slip," Hughes murmured as he flipped the safety of the gun back into place.
Ed snorted. :He just made it way easier.:
Hughes snorted himself. "Let's stop striking at Bradley's nerves for a bit, anyway, before he tries something more drastic to keep tabs on you."
He grimaced and peered back out the window as the military men stepped out of the car. He didn't recognise either of them, which meant there was only one homunculus it could be: :It's Envy. Disguised.:
"You did say he would occasionally run around Command," Hughes pointed out, before holding out the butt of the gun to Ed. "Put this away while I tell the girls it's safe to come back up."
Ed made a face, but accepted the gun and returned it to the false book that was high enough up the shelf to be out of Nina and Elicia's reach, but easily within reach for Ed and Gracia. Not that Ed had any intention in using the thing, but he understood and appreciated that his ability to reach it had been part of the placement consideration.
They said their goodbyes inside, for once, then Ed and Hughes went out to meet Ed's escort and head for the Investigations building.
Usually, Ed's guards took up positions by the main door of the building and trusted that he would use that door, instead of slipping out the back, which Ed had been good about all but once – honestly, losing them in the city was slightly more challenging, and therefore more fun – but Envy followed him up to the translation office and took up a position outside the door, then proceeded to follow him any time he left to use the toilet, or go anywhere else in the building.
Clearly, he wasn't fucking around. (Ed kind of wanted to lose him just to piss him off.)
At any rate, by the time they made it home and Envy had left, Ed felt more than a little wrung out. He was so unspeakably grateful that Nina and Elicia were willing to sit on either side of him on the couch while he performed minor acts of alchemy in his lap, their happy qi soothing away the strain on his nerves.
About an hour before they'd usually put Nina and Elicia to bed, the phone rang, and they all looked towards the doorway leading into the hall, trepidation spiking through Hughes and Gracia's qi, while the girls were just generally curious. (But, then, Elicia and Nina didn't really understand why they'd been taken down to the cellar that morning, or why they hadn't been allowed outside to say goodbye to Ed and Hughes.)
Hughes went to go answer it as the second ring died away, saying, "Maes Hughes." And then his qi soothed out with fondness and relief. "You never call me, Roy."
Oh, wonderful. Mustang. Just what Ed didn't need to add to his day.
Hughes' qi picked up an uncertain note, and he called, "Ed, could you come here for a minute?"
Ed sighed and carefully slipped out from between Elicia and Nina, ruffling the former's hair when she complained, "But playing."
"Your big brother will be right back, sweetie," Gracia soothed.
Ed stepped into the hallway, raising an eyebrow at Hughes, who had the handset cradled between his ear and shoulder. Frowning slightly, Hughes signed, :Roy wants to know if he hurt you?:
:What?: Ed signed a bit thoughtlessly, before he realised the bastard had probably got his letter. And Ed couldn't really remember what he'd written – he'd known that if he read it back over, he'd have talked himself out of giving it to Hughes to send – but he'd apparently given Mustang the impression that he'd been the screw up? :No! Is he a fucking moron? He didn't do anything. What the–? No!:
Hughes' mouth quirked. "That was an extremely emphatic 'no'."
Ed grimaced and turned away to go back into the living room.
"Actually," Hughes said, and Ed glanced back in spite of himself, "it's good you called. Envy has been set as a member of Ed's guards, we assume because he keeps ducking them. So, yes, he and Al can definitely sense them." He frowned and glanced at Ed. "Roy wants to know what they feel like. To you."
Ed shook his head. :I'll put it to Al in my next letter.:
"Ed says he'll let Al know." He paused a beat, then shot Ed a considering glance. "He's not asking for Al, and, I admit, I'd be interested to know, myself."
Ed blinked at that before frowning. Well, okay, so if someone said they could sense things he couldn't, he'd kind of be interested in the specifics, too. Had been, even, which was how he found out about the Stones underground from May. Ling had never made much sense when describing the homunculi, just said they felt different inside, which... Helpful, Ling.
But couldn't Mustang ask Al?
No, he couldn't, because Al would only have second-hand knowledge about the other homunculi.
He sighed and drooped back against the wall. :Bradley just feels like this huge mass of anger to us, I guess because he started out human, but the others...: He frowned, trying to figure out how to word this so it would make sense, while Hughes relayed that first bit. Once Hughes was quiet again, Ed signed, :I told you they have a Philosopher's Stone as their core?: Hughes nodded. :They feel like this...huge crowd of people, all squashed together and...there's not a good word for it, really. Muted, I guess. Like someone's screaming at you from the other side of thick glass, except it's THOUSANDS of people:
Hughes swallowed and quietly passed that on, then asked, "Are you okay? I know he followed you everywhere today."
:I'll live.: He snorted and shrugged. :It could be worse, he could feel like the chimera labs.:
Hughes frowned. "The animal labs?" he asked, using the kid-safe term they'd settled on for use around Elicia and Nina. "I know you hate them..."
Ed smiled. :Let's just say they suck,: he offered, before leaving Hughes for his comfortable position between Nina and Elicia.
By the time Hughes hung up from the rest of his much quieter phone call with Mustang, Ed was flipping through a picture book with Elicia and Nina. Nina would sound out a word, or point to a part of the picture, then she and Elicia would look to Ed for the sign language equivalent, both of them adorably determined to learn to understand him.
Fuck, he was going to miss them when he returned to Xing.
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