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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: Oh, hey, first kiss. FUCKING FINALLY.
Chapter Seventeen
-0-
Topics over pie were kept light: Updates on friends and acquaintances, edited stories about some missions that went well – Al's trip to Liore and the train hijacking, Ed and Hughes managing to track down and drag in Gloster – and a few plans for the weekend.
"Mama said," Nina told Mustang as the pie slices were seriously dwindling on everyone's plates, "that Sunday is Big Brother Ed's birthday."
"It is," Al agreed helpfully. "Is he going to let us celebrate it this year?" He shot Ed a knowing glance.
:A particular fire hazard isn't giving me a choice,: Ed signed with a scowl towards Mustang.
Hughes coughed and ducked his head, his qi a wave of amusement, and Ed couldn't have said if he was amused by his child-safe term for Mustang (which Ed didn't usually bother with, admittedly, even around Nina and Elicia), or his expression.
Mustang sent him a considering look. "Oh? Not a fan of your birthday, Edward?"
"He says he's 'too old' to celebrate his birthday," Al reported, catching Ed's hand without looking when he moved to cover his mouth.
"The horror!" Hughes declared, before turning to Mustang. "The reservations have been made, and it's not nearly as grease-heavy a place as you were expecting." Because there was a place two blocks over from Investigations that made stew almost exactly like Mum's, and Hughes had been there the first time Ed had found that out. That being the closest place Ed regularly stopped at that served a sit-down dinner, had made it pretty easy to settle on, even if Ed had only done so grudgingly.
(Okay, maybe Ed wasn't 'too old' to celebrate his birthday, really. His leg had been aching all day for the first one he'd had after coming back in time, which had put him in a bad mood, and he didn't really see the point when it was just him and Al in Xing. It felt a little less lonely, now, and far harder to ignore the excitement that practically poured off Elicia and Nina while the plans were being made. Their birthdays were always big deals, so Ed's had to be, too, clearly.)
Al's mouth curled with a smile that made Ed rethink sharing his room. "Brother has a date!" he sang, slipping out of his chair to avoid Ed's not-quite-so-gentle punch.
Mustang coughed, his qi a warm hum of amusement. (And how the fuck did he make his qi do that? Tricky, secretive bastard.) "Less a date, more a family outing," he corrected, looking towards Nina and Elicia. "After all, everyone deserves the chance to sing Edward happy birthday."
Their eyes lit up and they both started nodding really hard.
:I hate you so much,: Ed signed, slouching in his seat.
"Sourpuss," Al said, lightly smacking his shoulder from behind him. "Come help me take my things upstairs. I want to see how utterly unchanged everything is."
Gracia helpfully offered, "He hung up a painting," as she started collecting empty plates.
Al blinked at Ed as he stood. "You think art's pointless."
:It was a gift,: Ed signed in his defence.
"You like someone enough to hang up their pointless gift?" Al shot back, which apparently caught Mustang's attention, if the focussed edge of his qi was any indication.
"He said it was from one of the State Alchemists," Hughes added helpfully, mischief in his qi.
"It's weird," Nina declared, apparently deciding they needed her two cenz. "It's all splotchy."
"Colourway?" Mustang guessed, because he apparently knew something about the State Alchemists in Central. (Ed couldn't really pretend to be surprised.)
"Isn't he the one you think is only pretending to be crazy?" Al said.
"Pretending?" Hughes repeated, because Ed didn't really discuss anything about the labs or the State Alchemists with him, unless it was important to an on-going Investigations case, had the potential to turn into an Investigations case, or might have some bearing on their plans against the Dwarf in the Flask and the homunculi.
Ed rolled his eyes and walked from the room to collect Al's bags, since being mute meant he couldn't get a word in edgewise. By the time he'd got back to the stairs with them, Al, Mustang, and Hughes had all settled in at the bottom of the flight to wait for him with varying degrees of curiosity. He rolled his eyes at them again, earning him a smile from Al, then led the way up to his room.
"I see the 'weird'," Al decided, looking up at the painting.
"I see the 'pointless'," Mustang offered drily, "and I usually like art."
"Brother," Al said, "you have blue splotches on your wall."
Ed snorted and then – mostly because this was Al, and he'd eventually spot the secret anyway, and then hit Ed for not telling him sooner – pulled the picture down and turned around with it held in front of him at just about the right height for the other two alchemists.
Al's eyes went wide. "Oh, wow," he breathed, completely honest in his awe.
"That's an array," Mustang murmured, qi shimmering with interest.
"No, it's–" Hughes stepped forward and stopped, his eyes widening. "How have I not seen that for months?"
Ed flashed him a smirk, then turned and put it back up.
"Have you tested it?" Al asked.
Ed considered the ambient light for a moment, then clapped, focussing on making the argon form the words he wanted, before letting the excess energy light them up: 'Of course I have.'
"The problem," Hughes complained, while Al grinned and Mustang stepped further into the room so he could look at the painting from a better angle, "with not having any interest in alchemy, is I miss things like this. How many other little tricks do you have hidden in those sashes?"
Al opened his mouth and Ed darted forward to clap his hand over it, because he knew that spike in his brother's qi. 'Shut up,' he mouthed with a glare.
Al rolled his eyes and caught Ed's wrists, pulling his hand away from his mouth. "Seriously? How long are you intending to keep that a secret? I mean, from the homunculi and the military in general, sure, I get that, but from the colonel and lieutenant colonel?"
Al clearly trusted people way too easily.
And then Mustang said, in Cretan, "I'll show you mine, if you show me yours."
The surprise and lack of understanding from both Hughes and Al was actually sort of a balm; Mustang had clearly been keeping that close to his chest. Ed slipped his hands from Al's slackened hold and signed, :Since when have you spoken Cretan?:
"I second that question," Hughes piped up.
Mustang's mouth quirked with a smile that was only a little smug. "I started learning when I was six."
Ed raised an eyebrow at that, while Hughes walked over and shoved him; tricky, secretive bastard.
Mustang raised an eyebrow right back at him, ignoring Hughes.
Well, Ed supposed that was worth a little bit of showing off, so he pressed his hands together and activated an array to gather water from the air; more than a little difficult, and admittedly a little dangerous indoors, since there was a limited amount of oxygen and hydrogen to work with, but Ed had a half-full glass of water on his writing desk, and it wasn't hard to draw what he needed from there.
Once he had enough, he let the little sphere of water spin into a flat disc and tossed it towards Al, who hurriedly clapped his hands and caught it, the shape wobbling a bit because he just didn't have Ed's control.
:Cup on desk,: Ed offered, and Al offered him a slightly strained smile as he turned to drop the water into the cup.
"You're water alchemists," Mustang breathed.
Al let out an embarrassed cough. "Well, Brother is. I can do a little bit, more if I concentrate, but he makes it look easy."
:You make healing alchemy look easy,: Ed signed, shaking his head.
"Wait," said Hughes, looking between Ed and Mustang with a kind of worrying gleam in his eyes, "steamy."
It took Ed a moment, but then he got it and pulled out a kunai, while Mustang just sighed and rubbed at his eyes, clearly resigned.
Hughes dodged out of the room, laughing at his own 'cleverness'.
Al apparently decided following suit was a good plan, because he left with a knowing smile, pulling the door shut behind him.
Which left Ed alone with Mustang and his contained qi, forcefully calm, save for a tiny note of nerves that was kind of reassuring.
Silently mouthing curses at his interfering brother and commander, Ed slipped his kunai away and shrugged out of his uniform jacket, turning to hang it up.
When he turned back toward Mustang, he found the man was still standing on the other side of the room, eyeing Ed like he was... Ed didn't know. Waiting for him to run? To start making more excuses? To just flat out say 'no'?
Sure, a part of Ed still wanted to run – this had 'bad idea' stamped all over it, and not just because of Ed's history of destroying things – probably always would, but there was a much larger part – swayed by Mustang and Hughes and just the simple fact that Ed wanted something with Mustang, even if it destroyed them both – that wanted to stay.
Mustang raised his hands partway, paused for a moment, then signed, :You can sense emotions?:
Ed sighed. :We're going to discuss this now?:
Mustang cleared his throat, a glimmer of discomfort becoming obvious under the forced calm. :I'm a little curious exactly how much you can tell from being in the same room as me.:
Ed considered him, then shrugged. :It's not mind-reading, Führer Bastard. We can sense two or three of your strongest emotions while you're feeling them, but we do have to focus a bit, unless you're seriously projecting, and then it's usually showing on your face. And if you step into a crowd, the only emotions we'll notice are the ones aimed at us, like an intent to attack, unless everyone in the crowd is feeling the same sort of emotions, like at a celebration, or a panic, which can be a little overwhelming if you're not prepared for it.:
:Like the chimera labs.:
Ed grimaced. :Can we NOT talk about that when we're alone in my room?:
Amusement flashed through Mustang's qi. :Was there another topic you had in mind?: he signed, his mouth turned in a smug little smirk that was completely belied by the tiny note of nerves still in his qi.
:Fuck you,: Ed signed, using the not sexual sign to avoid misunderstandings, as he stalked across his room to the bastard.
:Not while–: Mustang, the smartarse, started signing in response.
Ed smacked his hands out of the way, then grabbed the front of his button-up – his jacket had been left on one of the dining room chairs – and used it to drag him forward and slightly down. He stopped just as their noses brushed, narrowing his eyes and leaving it for the bastard to decide what to do, because Ed couldn't. Not again.
Fondness curled out from Mustang's qi and the man reached up to cup Ed's face between his hands. "Yes," he murmured, before tilting his head and pressing his lips to Ed's.
Warmth flowed through him, pushing away old regrets and recent uncertainties alike. He didn't even try to stop himself from reaching up and threading his fingers through the back of Mustang's hair, stepping in closer to him, even as he pulled back just enough that he could lick at the bastard's mouth. Because this was awesome and all – way more that he'd let himself think about seriously, even with talk of dates and shit – but he didn't do slow. And Mustang–
One of Mustang's hands left his cheeks to wrap around his waist, pulling Ed in so close, he could feel the heat of the bastard all down his front, and pushing his way into Ed's mouth, like he intended to conquer him or some shit.
(Yeah, Mustang didn't do slow, either. Awesome.)
He let Mustang have his way for a couple rapid thuds of his heart, but then Ed tightened his fingers in the bastard's hair, used his grip to change the angle of his head a bit, and chased his tongue back into his mouth.
Mustang let out a quiet, startled sound, but then his arm tightened around Ed, and the hand that had remained on his cheek slid back to thread through Ed's hair, loosening his ponytail.
Ed pulled back when his lower body started getting a little too interested, because the reasons to stop far out-numbered the singular reason to just say 'fuck it all' and repeat before. (Okay, not a real repeat, because they'd avoided the alcohol and a certain automail mechanic was very much not an issue this time, but still. He was almost thirty-four and not a slave to his hormones. Honest.)
That said, Mustang was holding him tight, way-too-warm, his qi curled around him like a fond, almost protective second hug, which Ed kind of, a little bit, maybe...liked. He pressed his face against the bastard's shoulder, vacillating between pleased he was tall enough to do so without standing on his toes – he distinctly remembered his cowlick being the only part of him that passed the bastard's shoulders, before – and annoyed that Mustang was still notably taller.
Mustang carefully removed the tie from Ed's hair, and it dropped against his back and slithered over his shoulders. "I shouldn't be surprised that you know what you're doing," he murmured as he combed his fingers through Ed's hair.
Ed snorted and turned to rest his cheek against the bastard's shoulder, looking up at him through his bangs. 'Idiot,' he mouthed when he was certain Mustang was watching his mouth.
Mustang's mouth turned up slightly, while a sort of mocking humour curled through his qi. "It's harder to remember how old you are when I can see you," he admitted.
Ed frowned and tried to pull away.
Mustang's free hand left off combing through Ed's hair and joined his other one around Ed's waist, holding him fast. Around Ed, the bastard's qi mirrored his more physical motions; Mustang very clearly didn't want to let him go. "I wouldn't have kissed you if that was a problem," he hurried to say, apparently reading Ed's thoughts. "Are you going to take everything I say as a reason to run away?"
'Shut up,' Ed mouth at him, scowling. He wasn't...running away. He was...trying to give Mustang space.
(Yeah, he didn't really believe himself, either.)
Mustang's mouth quirked again, a definite sense of fondness in his qi, and he loosened his grip on Ed so he could cup his face again with one hand, thumb brushing along Ed's cheekbone. "Hello," he said quietly, leaning in slightly and completely filling Ed's view, "I'm Roy. You realise you have the most stunning eyes?"
Ed hit him, but lightly, and tried to ignore the way his cheeks had heated up; stupid bastard and his stupid, fucking charm.
Mustang's smile widened, and he let go of Ed to catch his hand between both of his own, then brought it to his lips to drop a stupidly-light kiss to his knuckles, like he was some sort of fucking girl in need of wooing; if Ed hadn't been able to sense the bastard's sincerity, he would have thought he was being mocked.
Ed yanked his hand away and took a quick step back, hating the telling heat in his cheeks, as he roughly signed, :Stop fucking romancing me!:
Mustang let him have his space, his qi pulling back into that calm pillar, as he signed, :Why?:
Ed swallowed and forced himself not to look away as he replied, :It's unnecessary and weird.:
:If you think it's weird, then it's necessary,: Mustang returned without any hesitation.
'...the fuck?' Ed mouthed, because...what the actual fuck was the bastard on about? He had to be all mushy and shit because Ed found it weird?
Mustang's smile took on a hint of sadness and he stepped forward to catch Ed's hands between his, wrapping them in warmth. " 'Romancing', as you call it," he said quietly, "is all about showing that you're interested."
Oh.
"So," the bastard continued, "until it stops being weird, I'm going to romance you. And then–" his eyes took on a decidedly worrisome gleam "–I'll probably keep doing it simply because I want to."
Ed really, really wanted to hit him, but his hands were...comfortable where they were.
Bastard.
Mustang squeezed his hands. "So, flowers?"
Ed suddenly found the energy to free his right hand and took a swipe at the bastard's face, moving slow and telegraphing enough that Mustang was able to duck him, surprise and then amusement flickering through his qi.
Mustang caught Ed's freed hand again, bringing it up to his lips for another stupidly-light kiss. "No flowers," he promised, his dark eyes almost seeming to sparkle. "Chocolates?"
Ed rolled his eyes and tugged until the bastard freed his hands. :I'll share any sweets I get with Nina and Elicia,: he warned, because, as much as he liked sweets, he liked seeing their faces light up when he shared far more.
"Of course you will," Mustang murmured, not even pretending at surprise. His gaze shifted to behind Ed, towards his little writing desk and the shelves of books there. "Rare books," he realised, eyes focussing on Ed again.
:Rare knowledge,: Ed corrected, because he could almost see the stupid bastard spending a fortune on some stupidly rare book in his quest to...whatever this was. Prove he actually wanted a relationship with Ed? (It sounded kind of stupid when you put it like that; the fact that he hadn't run like hell made it pretty fucking obvious he was interested in something.)
Mustang blinked and glanced down at his hands. He was still smiling, just a bit, but there was a barely-there crease between his eyebrows, one that Ed recognised from when he'd been a kid, which he hadn't understood the meaning of until he'd grown up enough to admit that the bastard had actually cared about him; Mustang was trying hard not to let a worried frown show, was also doing an admirable job keeping it out of his qi. (Seriously, he was freakishly good at managing his qi; if Ed didn't know better, he'd think the bastard actually knew about it.)
Ed had a pretty good idea why the bastard might be worried, and he stepped forward to take Mustang's hands, squeezing them lightly when the man looked up, then letting go so he could sign, :I have no interest in flame alchemy.:
Relief rushed through Mustang's qi, followed by resignation. "I need to remember you can sense my emotions," he murmured, sounding more amused than anything else.
Ed shook his head and admitted, :I didn't sense anything; you get a crease between your eyebrows when you're worried.:
Mustang let out a startled laugh. "I really can't hide anything from you, can I?" he said, and there was something almost...tired, in his voice.
Ed swallowed and looked away. :Sorry,: he signed.
Mustang took his hands – again – and murmured, "There aren't many people I can't lie to: Maes, Riza, my aunt..." He was smiling when Ed glanced up at him, confused by how...peaceful his qi felt. "It's sort of a relief, that you're one of those people."
Ed frowned at that, even more confused, now. Mustang was...relieved that he couldn't lie to him without Ed knowing? What sort of fucking weirdo would want someone to know when they were lying?
Mustang's smile widened slightly and he leant in and pressed a chaste kiss to Ed's mouth, before pulling back a bit, letting go of his hands. "Do you know any flame alchemy?" he asked.
Ed huffed and shoved his confusion back; he wasn't likely to ever understand Mustang's oddities. :I know the basic principles,: he admitted. :Manipulating oxygen atoms around a specific target and between a spark or a small flame to set them alight.:
Mustang blinked, looking a little surprised. "Did I explain it to you?" he asked.
Ed shook his head. :No. I've just seen you use it.:
Mustang shook his own head, fond disbelief curling around the edges of his qi. "Do you have any idea how many alchemists have seen me use flame alchemy and don't understand half as much as you do?"
:I keep an eye on the idiots in lab one,: Ed replied, rolling his eyes.
Mustang coughed, his eyes bright. "Flame and water alchemy," he said, barely controlled laughter obvious in his voice. "No wonder your brother's always laughing when he passes on the most recent update on them."
Ed couldn't stop a smile at that. :I push them in the wrong direction, sometimes,: he admitted, because he had made a few extremely unhelpful suggestions, when one of the groups looked like they were approaching a breakthrough.
Mustang started laughing, so open and happy, nothing at all like the man Ed had served under, before. That Mustang had always kept himself in close, even after Ed had quit the military and they could almost call themselves friends, had kept his smiles small and shared them in moderation, only laughed aloud when he'd been drunk, and, even then, it had been quiet, barely passed the edges of their party's corner table. And even when they'd slept together, there had been a sort of distance in Mustang using Ed's old code name; the only person Ed knew who had categorically refused to retire it.
Once burnt, twice shy; that Mustang had lost his best friend while Ed still believed his masks, had had everyone else ripped away from him while they'd all been struggling with the secrets they'd started chipping away at. When that Mustang had most needed his support base, he'd had nothing.
This Mustang...he'd suffered none of that, and he and Ed didn't have that commander/subordinate relationship to get between them. All that lay between them was the field that Ed had forced level, secrets laying uncovered on the grass. They had trusted each other with the people most important to them; it seemed almost logical that the next step was trusting each other with themselves.
Something inside of Ed eased, and, for the first time, he could believe that he wouldn't make the same mistake again. That, maybe, their...whatever this was, would end in something other than 520 cenz left on a bedside table and the memory of a night shadowed with shame and regret.
Without really making the conscious decision to do so, Ed found himself making the sign-name that Hughes always used for Mustang, the one that meant 'Roy', rather than the more familiar 'Führer Bastard'. Because this man wasn't the same, and he was kind of ashamed to realise it had taken the bastard laughing to recognise the difference.
Must– No, Roy's amusement shifted to curiosity. "Edward?" he asked in return.
Ed flexed his fingers, then signed, :We should head back downstairs, before Al starts on about needing to wash the sheets.:
Roy's mouth turned up at one side, but when Ed turned to leave, he caught his arm. "There's a slight imbalance here," Roy commented, wry humour in his voice. "I'm practically an open book to you, but I have no idea what you're thinking."
Well, there was another difference between Mustang before and Mustang – Roy – now: Before, he'd practically known Ed's thoughts before he did himself, but he'd also watched Ed grow up, had known him before he'd learnt to guard his expressions. Roy would likely develop that ability in time – just because Ed had learnt to guard his expressions, didn't mean he was always successful, especially if he was trying to hide anger – but he'd only had sporadic contact with Ed, so far, and most of it had been through letters.
Ed could lie. He could brush the question aside, or give some bullshit line of thought that had him using Hughes' sign.
But that seemed like a shit idea, completely unfair, because the bastard was right: Right now, everything between them was unbalanced simply because Ed could read Roy, could generally catch him in a lie, but Roy had only his intuition and general knowledge of people to help him read Ed. Which was a formidable weapon, certainly, but fallible.
So Ed turned back to Roy and admitted, :I realised you aren't him.:
Roy frowned. "Him?"
:The other you. I can't remember ever hearing him laugh like that.:
Roy blinked a few times, surprise and grief chasing each other through his qi for a moment. He started to lift his hands, paused to stare down at them, then brought them the rest of the way up to sign, :You said Maes died.:
Ed nodded.
:He must have been very lonely,: Roy signed.
Lonely, yes, but also mad with grief, hunting doggedly for the culprit, and nearly losing everything else on the way.
Ed reached out and caught Roy's hand, used it to lead him from the room – ignoring Roy's confused, "Edward?" – and down to where everyone else was gathered in the living room.
Hughes looked over at them with that wide, bright grin of his. "Look who decided to grace us with their presence!"
Gracia, kindly, threw a pillow at Hughes. Which seemed to be permission for Nina and Elicia to both grab pillows from the other couch and run over to start beating Hughes with them. Which won laughter from...pretty much everyone else.
"I surrender!" Hughes shouted, laughing.
Roy's qi was notably calmer, the reminder of grief for another him pushed aside by the proof that it was unnecessary, and Ed smiled as he walked over to join Al on the now throw pillow-less couch.
Al offered him a considering look. "Are you okay?" he asked in Xingan.
Ed let his smile widen, knew Al would know it was completely honest, and nodded.
Al relaxed back against the couch with a smile of his own, turning to watch Nina and Elicia list their 'demands' for accepting Hughes' surrender, as guided by Roy, while Hughes himself attempted to cry foul.
Dinner conversation was kept light, same as the conversation over pie had been, and the post-dinner conversation ended up involving a lot of discussing what horrors they could inflict on Ed for his birthday, while Ed tried to convince everyone he was perfectly happy to just stay inside. Al eventually captured his hands, with Nina and Elicia's help, and informed Ed, "You don't get a say." Which was rude.
Once Elicia and Nina had been put to bed – with far more difficulty than usual, which both Hugheses and Ed fully blamed on Al and Roy – conversation took a far less cheerful turn.
"I think," Hughes said, leaning forward and looking between Ed and Al, while Roy ensured the curtains were fully closed, "it's time you two explained this ability to track the homunculi."
Al glanced over at Ed with a frown.
Ed raised an eyebrow in response; Al had been the one telling him off, earlier, for keeping his water alchemy from them.
Al sighed and turned to the other couch, where Hughes and Gracia had taken up their usual positions, both of their qi swirling with curiosity, but Hughes' had an added note of concern. "It's an ability we picked up in Xing, related to their way of doing alchemy. It's..." He made a face. "It's based around the idea that every living thing puts off energy, and that every living thing – or humanity, at least – has the ability to sense the living energy around them. Which ends up translating to strong emotions, really."
"Edward suggested there were limits?" Roy said from the chair he'd settled in, his qi that pillar of forced calm that was clearly his default.
Al raised an eyebrow at Ed, even as he shrugged and nodded. "Stronger emotions are easier to sense, like anger or happiness, especially if they're at extremes, and the more people there are, the harder it is for us to pinpoint any one person."
"Ed found you at the train station," Hughes was quick to point out.
Ed huffed and signed, :It's not unlike finding a familiar face in a crowd; the better you know someone, the easier it is to spot them.:
Al let out an amused cough. "Brother and I are a little unusual, too, because we...feel like each other. Which Brother thinks is related to the night we attempted human transmutation."
Ed nodded when the Hugheses and Roy looked at him. :You'll forgive me if I don't try to explain my hypothesis?:
Hughes let out a laugh that only sounded a little strained, while Gracia grimaced. "It would probably go right over Gracia and my heads," Hughes admitted, before glancing towards Roy.
Roy gave a careless shrug, as if his qi hadn't formed an arrowhead of interest focussed in Ed's direction. "I don't pretend to know anything about human transmutation."
Ed snorted, because the man had known enough to recognise their array as something terrible, and some of the missions he'd sent them on, before, had left Ed suspecting the bastard had more than just a basic understanding of biological alchemy.
Al sighed and went on to explain, "I could probably find the colonel or a member of our office in a medium-sized crowd, but I would have trouble finding one of you two, whereas Brother would likely have the opposite problem." He glanced at Roy, who raised an eyebrow. "Well, for most of the office."
Ed swatted his arm and mouthed, 'Shut up.'
Across from them, Hughes chortled, while Gracia politely covered her smile.
Al flashed him a smile, before opening his mouth, his qi laced with mischief.
"Alphonse," Roy said, his tone flat and a very obvious note of disapproval in his qi.
Al grimaced and slouched slightly. "Sorry, sir."
Well, it was nice to know that Al's unfortunate respect for authority was good for something.
Ed huffed and straightened a bit in his seat, drawing everyone's eyes. :Have you ever known you were in danger?: he signed, looking between Roy and Hughes. :You sensed someone coming up behind you with a weapon, or ducked just before a shot was fired that would have hit you otherwise?:
Roy and Hughes traded grim looks. "Yes," Roy replied quietly, very obviously didn't go into any detail.
Ed nodded. :What we can do is sort of an advanced form of that sense.:
"Or, at least," Al offered while Roy and Hughes traded looks again, "that's how Brother figured it out. And, well, our Xingan fighting instructor, Ru, once told me that most of the great Xingan warriors are also known for their ability to sense and read the qi – the life energy – of others."
Ed tilted his head as something occurred to him. :Something Zouheir said to me, at one point, makes me think Ishvalan warrior monks might have a similar battle awareness.:
Al frowned and made Zouheir's sign-name. "Your Ishvalan signing friend?" he guessed, and Ed nodded. "Cool."
"It would make sense," Hughes murmured, wearing a troubled frown, his qi far more reserved than Ed was used to. "Ishvalan warrior monks did seem to have a sort of sixth sense about danger, which made fighting them far more difficult, especially in one-on-one combat."
"But not qi-sense?" Al asked, looking at Ed.
Ed shrugged and shook his head. :Scar doesn't guard his qi like someone trained in the art, so I assume it's just battle sense.:
"Scar is a warrior monk?" Hughes asked, grimacing, and Ed nodded. "No wonder he was proving so difficult an opponent."
:Sorry,: Ed signed. :It never occurred to me to tell you. Most of my interactions with Scar involve more fighting than talking.:
"I assume that's changed," Roy said.
Ed shrugged. :Sort of. Scar doesn't really TALK, but there's been less fighting.:
"Small mercies," Al murmured.
Ed swatted him.
Gracia cleared her throat. "Why are you finally asking about this ability?" she asked, looking between Roy and her husband. "It's been months." She focussed on Hughes. "You weren't nearly so determined to get answers, even when Ed was being stalked by Envy."
Hughes grimaced and he glanced at Ed. "There was an argument about letting Al into lab three."
Gracia blinked.
"The chimera labs, specifically," Roy added quietly, his posture relaxed, but his eyes tellingly-sharp. "Edward said they can feel animal emotions, as well as human."
"Oh," Gracia whispered.
Al gave an uncomfortable shrug. "Plants too, to an extent. I mean, they don't have emotions, really, not the way we think of them, but they have a life energy, all the same."
"Your love of the greenhouse suddenly makes so much more sense," Hughes muttered, shaking his head.
:It's soothing,: Ed signed with a scowl. :They're happy there, for the most part, so it's kind of like walking into a crowd of smiling people who all wish you well.:
"...you know, that almost makes me want to go for a visit," Hughes decided.
Al laughed. "Try walking through a field of crops at the height of a good season, before the harvest starts. Those are happy plants."
Ed snorted, because Honghui had liked to hold their lessons in the fields or walk them through the mountain paths on nice days; Ed hadn't understood why she always ended up teaching happy poetry on those days, until his qi-sense had developed to the point that he could sense the calm of the plants.
"Lab three," Gracia murmured, recalling all of their attention to the original topic. "Isn't that where they're working with healing alchemy?"
The sinking feeling in Ed's stomach was inversely proportional to the rising sense of victory in Al's qi.
"If Bradley tries to get Al into the labs, same as he did you," Hughes said, looking at Al, "that's where he's going to end up."
"Mending Alchemist," Al agreed, shooting Ed a look that was way too fucking pleased.
Anger bloomed in Ed's chest. :Fine,: he signed. :Do whatever you fucking want, but don't come crying to me when you realise I was right.:
"Brother–" Al started, his expression distinctly hurt.
Ed shoved himself to his feet and signed, :I'm going to bed,: in the Hugheses' general direction, then hurried from the room.
Al didn't come after him, and Ed couldn't decide if he was grateful or not. On one hand, if Al had come after him, it would have been a sign that he was rethinking his stupid bravery bullshit – or whatever stupid thing made him think going into that lab was a good idea – and that he didn't, meant he had no intention of bowing to Ed's wisdom.
On the other hand, Al's absence gave Ed the necessary space to widen his bed so they could both fit comfortably, and go through his usual evening routine in peace.
When he climbed into bed, still with no sign of his brother, Ed squeezed his eyes shut and tried to convince himself that he didn't care any more, that a huge part of him wasn't terrified for his brother. He tried his damnedest to hold on to his anger, because that kept it from hurting.
For the first time since he'd got proof that Al was coming back to Central, he wished his brother had stayed away.
"Big Brother Ed!" Nina called.
Ed flashed her a bright, wide smile. "Nina!" he called back, crouching down and holding out his arms for her.
She ran towards him, her movements unsteady, lurching–
"The progress of medicine..."
Nina's hair grew, lengthened to cover her face and her misshapen legs.
"The progress of human knowledge..."
The field around them faded to the clinical white of a lab, and Ed reached for Nina, desperate to–
"That's the result of experimenting on humans."
A cage clanged into being around Nina, other cages stacking up all along the walls, dozens of animals just as terrified, just as hurt, staring out at him, looking to Ed to save them.
"You and I," that voice said as Ed turned around to look towards him, "are just the same."
Ed was standing at one side of a massive array, Shou Tucker on the other. And, between them, lying bleeding in the centre–
"AL!" he screamed as Tucker knelt.
The soothing darkness of night washed over him as Ed finally got his eyes open, the nightmare fading back into the box of horrors it usually lived in.
Someone was breathing evenly next to him, and it was telling that it took him way too long to recognise his brother, sleeping peacefully. Not trapped in the middle of some array in lab three.
Ed swallowed and slipped carefully out of the bed, grateful when Al's breathing remained steady. He knelt in front of him for a moment, using what little light snuck in through his curtains to stare at Al for a bit, reassure himself that he was okay. Then he slipped from his room and into Nina and Elicia's room, resettling the blankets Nina always kicked off and smiling when she mumbled something about ice cream.
Kid had her priorities in order.
He checked on Elicia, too, gently tugging a lock of hair out of her mouth, then slipped back out of their room.
Usually, he would sit up in his room and work on translating Marcoh's array to alkahestry – it was being especially difficult – or create or refine one of his own, or study the tunnel system under Central a bit more, until he felt like he could get back to sleep. But, with Al sharing his bed, trying any of that would just wake him, so Ed sighed and made his careful way downstairs, ducking into the kitchen. Figured he could make himself some tea and snoop through Hughes' paperwork in the downstairs office until he felt tired enough to head back upstairs to bed, or fell asleep on one of the couches.
"Edward?" someone murmured, voice quiet and edged with sleep, while Ed was filling the kettle with water for tea.
Ed spun and was surprised to find Must– No, Roy, standing in the doorway of the kitchen, wearing a well-worn t-shirt and loose trousers, his hair even more of a mess than Ed was used to seeing.
...right. He'd forgotten the bastard would be taking one of the couches for a couple nights, until he found a house to buy.
:Go back to sleep,: he signed, before turning back to filling the kettle and setting it on the hob to heat.
Roy didn't move for a long moment, judging by his qi's stillness. When he finally did, it was toward Ed, rather than back toward the living room, and he turned to frown at the bastard.
Roy offered him a smile that looked a little more awake than Ed had been expecting, as he stopped next to him and reached up to pull down a mug from the cupboard Ed had just opened. "Tell me you made enough water for two."
Ed blinked at him, confused, but nodded and quietly pulled down his own mug, then closed the cupboard.
Roy moved to the cupboard with the tea in it, only pausing for a brief moment when met with more than just one option, then pulling down the chamomile, which was the same tea Ed would have gone for; either they were worryingly similar in their midnight tea preferences, or Roy could read him a hell of a lot better than he thought he could.
As he set the tea bags in their mugs, Roy quietly offered, "The only reason I ever make myself tea at two in the morning, is because of nightmares."
Ed nodded; he should have guessed experience, clearly.
Ed poured the water into both of their mugs once it was boiling, then picked up his and made for the office. He couldn't even pretend to be surprised when Roy followed him.
"That's new," Roy said almost as soon as the light was on, staring at the Central City map.
Ed nodded, looking over the string circle that marked the path between the labs and to the large doorways leading into the underbelly of Command. He set his mug on the desk so he could sign, :Part of my detour. It's a tunnel.:
"Connecting the labs and Central Command," Roy murmured, stepping a little closer to the map. He tapped a finger on Command and looked at Ed. "What does it lead to?"
:A maze of tunnels between Command and the Dwarf in the Flask's hideout. I've mapped most of it.:
"Only most?" Roy asked, a note of humour in his voice, while relief curled through his qi.
Ed quirked a smile at him. :There's a few doors I couldn't open, a stairwell that I'm nearly certain connects Bradley's office to the Dwarf in the Flask's lair, one between the Führer's residence and a path that leads down towards his lair, and a lift shaft, which I know connects his lair and a broom closet in Command, not far from the gym.:
Roy blinked. "That's specific."
:I took it last time,: Ed admitted. :And I know about the staircase from Bradley's office because the Ice Queen took it.:
Roy looked back at the map on the wall, his hands wrapped tight around his mug. "Nice to know we have options when it's time to meet him," he said drily.
Ed considered him for a moment. His qi was...not calm, but not really afraid, either. A little expectant, maybe...hopeful for the future?
Ed turned to collect his mug, allowing himself a silent sigh; the only real problem he had with using his qi-sense to read people, was that it required some familiarity with emotions to know exactly what you were getting from someone else, and Ed had spent way too much of his life denying his own emotions. The general set – happiness, anger, love, hatred, calm – those were easy, and he could usually figure out their relatives, but the weirdly specific things – or, well, a lot of things related to hope, as odd as that might seem to some people – tended to trip him up.
(Ed wasn't a fan of hope. Hope made you complacent, made you willing to wait for a solution to come to you. Determination was better, meant you were striving forward, aiming to grab a solution with both hands and make it yours.)
Roy was looking at him when he turned back around. "I don't suppose your maps are down here?"
Ed snorted and shook his head; he much preferred keeping his maps in the alchemically locked case under his bed, where a surprise raid was unlikely to look for it, given how obvious this intelligence centre was. And if someone did find the case, well. They were going to regret trying to open it without the correct key array.
"I wouldn't mind getting a look at them," Roy admitted.
Ed quirked a smile and nodded before he took a sip of his tea; he'd actually intended to let Al and Roy look at the maps that night, but, well, things had happened.
Roy glanced over at the country-wide map, the internal lines of the array drawn out with red string – a colour change that Ed had done after he'd moved in, to keep it apart from the string connecting serial murders – still in place, then back at the Central City map. "Another array?" he guessed, tapping the string circle around Command with one finger.
Ed set his mug back down as he nodded. :It was used to transport the sacrifices down to the Dwarf in the Flask on the Promised Day.:
Roy grimaced slightly and returned his hand to his mug, pressing his fingers tight against the ceramic. "Lovely."
They both stood there for a long moment, Roy sipping at his tea and looking at the Central City map, while Ed tried to think of a topic, something that wasn't quite so...glum. Which, well, they had a lot of nightmare fodder in common – bad topics – and the Hugheses and Al – which Ed didn't, necessarily, want to talk about.
And then it occurred to him: Roy had mentioned an aunt, earlier, one of the very rare times he'd ever made mention of any blood family. Ed clicked his tongue and, when Roy glanced over at him, signed, :I don't know anything about your family.:
Roy blinked a couple times, clearly surprised, before putting on a smile that was both fond and a little sad. (Old sadness, like a long healed wound, judging by his qi.) "Let's go sit," he suggested, motioning with his head out the door.
Ed shrugged and nodded – he didn't really have any particular need to be in the office, other than it being something to do until he could go back to sleep – then grabbed his mug and followed Roy out to the living room, flipping off the light and closing the door as he did.
Roy turned on one of the smaller lights and they both settled on the couch that hadn't been slept in. (By the look of his blankets, Roy's rest hadn't been a particularly restful one, which made Ed feel a little better about waking him.)
"My family," Roy murmured, thumb tracing over the handle of his mug. "I told you my maternal grandfather was Xingan?"
Ed nodded, though he was fairly certain Roy hadn't specified that it had been his maternal grandfather, before.
Roy nodded himself. "My maternal grandmother was originally Aerugonian, but her town was annexed by Amestris in 1830...something. Border conflict."
Ed grimaced slightly and balanced his mug in the middle of his crossed legs so he could sign, :One of the Dwarf in the Flask's?:
"Very likely," Roy admitted with a helpless sort of shrug. "She and my grandfather connected over being immigrants, I've been told, and they remained in the south until they died a couple years before I was born."
Ed had a sinking suspicion that that hadn't been a peaceful passing.
"My father's side of the family have lived in or near Central City for generations. My parents met while my mother was attending the university. He was the bartender of one of the quieter bars near her apartment, and my aunt says he sat through two 'I broke up with my boyfriend because he was a useless idiot' rants before asking her out."
Ed snorted. :I take it your father wasn't a useless idiot, then?:
Roy's smile was definitely sad. "I assume. They died when I was four. Automobile accident."
Ed winced and signed, :I'm sorry.:
Roy nodded; that was obviously an old wound. "My aunt ended up with custody of me, though she had to give up her job and find a new one."
Ed frowned at that.
Roy's eyes glinted, amusement curling along the pillar of his qi. "She was a prostitute."
Ed blinked, remembering what Roy had said, in that one letter, about growing up around prostitutes. 'Oh,' he mouthed, before signing, :It seems odd that the military would care what she did for a living.:
"Child custody is actually handled by a civilian office," Roy explained. "They're small and overworked, but you're right, the military doesn't care what happens to children, so long as they receive a military-approved education, so that's one of the few duties that have remained in civilian hands. If it'd been up to the military, no one would have cared how she made her money, so long as I was clothed and fed.
"As it was," Roy continued with a shrug, "a friend of hers fronted her the money to start a pub, with the promise that he'd always get free drinks when he came."
Ed snorted into his tea.
Roy's mouth turned up with a suggestion of a smile. "Above the pub were a bunch of seedy apartments, owned by one of the local pimps. My aunt eventually bought him out and turned them into a safe space for the street women, or any woman who was down on their luck, to live. They only paid what they could afford, in cash, or any interesting information they picked up, which my aunt then passed on to her friend who bought her the pub and, once I'd joined the military, me."
Ed felt his eyes widening as some connections formed, and he set his mug back down between his legs again. :Hughes said,: he signed, :that your information network is made up of women and based out of a pub.:
Roy let out an annoyed huff that Ed was fairly certain was all for show. "Someone's been telling tales out of school," he commented.
Ed caught himself before he let out the laugh curling in his chest, as that phrase sparked a memory of a different time. :The last person I heard say that was my daughter, when my son told on her for something,: he signed.
Roy coughed, his qi a mass of amusement. "It's good to know that survives," he offered, before shaking his head. "Madam Christmas," he said, switching to Cretan, "is my aunt. Which I have never actually told to that idiot upstairs."
Ed snorted and ducked his head, looking up between his bangs. :I bet he knows anyway.:
"I will not take that bet," Roy returned, before letting out a quiet sigh, uncertainty shivering its way through his qi. He stared down into his mug for a moment, before dropping his head back to finish what was apparently the last of his tea, then setting his mug on the coffee table, over a recent crayon scribble. "I assume he also told you I take the madam's women out, sometimes?"
Ed gave a careful nod, a bit thrown by the change.
"Some of those here in Central, I've known since before I joined the military," Roy continued, staring at Ed's hands, instead of his face, something almost like...shame? In his qi. "Spending time with them is almost as much about catching up, as it is exchanging information. And, well, sometimes one of them have had a kind of crappy week, so it's a nice thing to do, taking them out with no strings."
And Ed...got it. Roy had built up this appearance of a womaniser, but if he and Ed were...whatever they were, this part of his persona was a giant bomb waiting to go off.
He set his mug on the coffee table and leant forward, covering Roy's mouth with one hand.
Roy looked up, finally meeting his eyes, his own seeming almost like dark pits of...Ed didn't know. He couldn't read that emotion, but he recognised the uncertainty in his qi, and that almost-shame...
Ed pulled back and signed, :You're asking permission?:
"I–" Roy cleared his throat, started to glance away, before very firmly catching and holding Ed's gaze. "Yes. If it's going to be a problem, I can probably work something else–"
Ed waved a hand at him to shut him up, vaguely irritated that he couldn't just talk over the bastard. :You have a particular persona to maintain, I'm aware of that, and changing your normal actions at this point would only bring suspicious eyes on us. Besides, your dating habits aren't a bad cover for–: He motioned between them.
Roy frowned. "That wasn't what I was asking."
Ed sighed and looked towards his mug. :I know,: he admitted, not quite able to look back at the man. :It does bother me, a little, but I understand the whys, and I'm getting used to doing things I don't particularly like to keep my cover. It's fine.:
"It's not fine," Roy murmured.
Ed shot him a glare. :Don't patronise me. I'm plenty capable of managing a little jealousy for a couple years.:
Roy blinked, surprise twisting through his qi.
Ed grabbed for his mug and drained the last few sips of his tea, trying to ignore the way Roy's qi was almost...unfurling, reaching towards Ed and so stupidly fond; even when he couldn't actually speak, he still somehow managed to say too much.
'Years'. Like he expected this...whatever it was between them to last. Like Ed was expecting to stay in Amestris, once the dust had settled, instead of running like fuck back to Xing.
And then Roy's arms were slipping around him, and Ed huffed, but didn't even pretend to try and free himself, other than to put his mug back on the table, as the bastard manhandled him until they were resting back against Roy's arm of the couch, Ed fitted comfortably between the bastard's legs, head pillowed on his chest.
:Stupid bastard,: Ed signed, before settling a bit more comfortably against said bastard.
Roy's chuckle was low and warm, rumbling through his chest and curling around Ed the same way his qi was, a warm blanket offering a wordless promise of a peaceful sleep.
(Ed was fairly certain Roy was cheating with his qi. Somehow.)
Fingers caught in Ed's loose hair, combing through it carefully. "For now," Roy said quietly, "I won't change anything, but we'll re-evaluate once the Dwarf in the Flask is dealt with."
Ed made a lazy motion of acquiescence and closed his eyes. This was...comfortable. Like curling up with Al, before, once he'd fattened up enough to have some padding on his skeleton, or Winry when she was pregnant and not trying to prove she could still work on automail, no matter how big her stomach got.
Roy didn't say anything more, so far as Ed recalled, and he dozed off with the sense that, maybe, staying in Amestris wouldn't be so bad after all.
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