Alphonse Elric is (not_fullmetal) wrote in knowhereic, @ 2017-09-21 22:25:00 |
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It had taken Alphonse a bit to make it to the apartment where Riza and Roy were staying, but he inevitably ended up knocking on the door and waiting. It came open and Riza stepped aside to let the young man inside. “Good evening, Alphonse. I’m going out to get us some dinner, would you like anything?” She figured the two of them would need some time alone if Al wanted to talk. So she’d made an excuse to leave. Thankfully, the boy smiled and nodded. “I’d love something, thank you-- just whatever the two of you are having.” He was easy, he always tried his best not to be any trouble. “Sure.” Leaning some, she called back into the apartment. “Colonel, Alphonse is here.” And with that, she’d leave and allow the Windstorm Alchemist to take himself inside and close the door behind, his bangs swinging some, his ponytail twisted up into a slightly messy, but respectable bun. He just looked so much like Ed. Except, well, he was wearing a white button-up shirt, gray slacks and a gray vest. The shirt wasn’t buttoned all the way up to his throat, but he looked nice. Nicer than Ed ever did. “Ro-- er, Sir?” Al called out as he closed up the door and came further into the empty living area. It still looked like no one lived here, just like Roy’s house had when he’d come to live with him. It made him a little sad, actually. He knew how broken his Lt. General had been back then. Was this man just as broken? *** Roy didn’t intervene in the boys’ lives unless it was absolutely, utterly important he do so. Mostly, he left them to their own devices and he let them come to him if they needed anything. They rarely did. Ed rarely asked. And Alphonse? He was a non-issue at the best of times. Roy was guilty of writing him off back home, but here in Knowhere? Well. Alphonse surprised Roy, too. He came asking for help. And that was genuinely the first time either one of the boys had done it. Roy, being Roy, had responded with his same cocky arrogance but accepted Alphonse’s desires. It was why he didn’t blink when Hawkeye made her excuses to leave. She’d been living with him since her adventure in Knowhere, they spent most of their free time together, but she was never around 100% of the time. It was fine when she went off and did whatever it was she would do when she was out. Like now. Even going to get food. Roy raised a hand in mild acknowledgement of her words, still kneeling down in a circle of papers, an array, and a whole bunch of base materials spread out around him, his hands chalky, his black slacks a little muddied with chalk dust, and his white shirt rumpled and untucked. Roy Mustang looked human. His dark hair fell in his face. This was the image of a man at work. Hawkeye didn’t know what he was working on. He hadn’t told her, intentionally, because it would ruin… well… everything. But he sat back on his feet, hands on his thighs, drumming his fingers while he stared down at the work he was trying to figure out, only looking up once Alphonse was fully in the apartment. In comparison, Alphonse looked fantastic. Roy gave him a once over, nodded his approval, then sat back against the couch, pushing his papers aside. Hawkeye cleaned them religiously until he’d snapped at her to leave them put. He knew where everything belonged in the chaos. Pushing his dark hair out of his face, Roy squinted at Al again, “How can I help you, Alphonse? Excuse the mess.. My assistant has just left.” He smiled a little. Mustang was in a good mood. *** Coming in further, the blonde boy tilted his head to get a better look at the alchemy all spread out over that table. Ed looked at Roy’s stuff all the time, even if it was just so say something snarky and rude about his chicken-scratch. Alchemists were always curious and took glances, wanted to be nosy, wanted to learn whatever they could, but it was all coded. It was all safe. Roy had known his master’s code, but Roy had no students of his own. Except the one standing in front of him. Had he ever considered that? Perhaps not, as the boys had both been taught by Izumi, they hadn’t exactly come to Roy looking for a teacher, they’d just wanted help to do their research and funding. This fleshy Alphonse Elric hadn’t needed those two things, he’d only needed a paycheck to save his mother. He and his brother hadn’t had any obsessions to follow. They’d been greedy little sponges.. And with Ed gone, Al had turned to Mustang. Mustang had begrudgingly accepted. “You’re working on something new?” He asked curiously, bending to pick up one of those papers and look it over, tilting his head a little more, curious. *** Mustang watched the small boy bend and pick up a paper. Unconcerned, he allowed it, provided the boy put it right back where it went. All of his codes were written in the names of women, making them even more safe in Knowhere because they were contextually specific and that context was way back in Amestris spread over more than fifteen years of Mustang’s personal life. Were all of them women he’d ever slept with? Who knew. He wasn’t telling. “Yeah,” he replied, rubbing a hand through his hair again, “Working on it.” He hadn’t figured out diamonds. It was technically illegal, falling in line with the strict law against making gold. But, well, Roy Mustang liked to bend the rules and alchemy taboos had never been his concern. Hughes learned that once, long ago. Roy watched Al for a moment before he dusted off his hands, pushed himself to his feet (which were bare), and then fetched a glass of water. Usually it would be alcohol, but … well, things changed when he had Hawkeye so close to him almost always. He fetched a glass for Al, too. Returning, he leaned back against the table and squinted at Alphonse. “Are you alright?” *** Roy’s painfully human state didn’t seem to phase Alphonse at all-- it was telling. Even Riza was surprised, or at least affected, by Roy looking like a person, with casual clothes, bare feet, and messy hair. But Al? Al hadn’t taken a second look. Odd, that. He was far more interested in the papers, of which now he had three or four in his hands, looking them over curiously. Bronze eyes lifted, round and surprised as Roy returned. “Are you trying to transmute gold?” It wasn’t right, not by any stretch, but it was dangerously close. *** Roy raised an eyebrow, his lips parting slightly, his expression somewhat taken aback. Alphonse Elric could read his code. He had the requisite knowledge to understand what he was looking at. Roy Mustang, Lt. General Roy Mustang, had taught him the private, personal code he’d used to hide his alchemy in plain sight. Unsure on how to respond to that, the Colonel took a drink of water then set the glass aside, his fingers curling around the edge of the table he was propped against. “No,” he said, and it was at least honest. It wasn’t gold. “It’s diamonds,” he said. “Not a lot of them, just…” One. He didn’t say it, choosing instead to push away from the table to approach Alphonse, snagging one of the papers out of the boy’s hands so he could look it over. “I’m missing something.” Evidently. He hadn’t successfully produced a diamond yet. “Al? Don’t tell Hawkeye, it’ll piss her off.” She was versed in the taboos as well as every State Alchemist, given she spent the majority of her career surrounded by them. *** “Diamonds?” Those large, round eyes blinked and he looked back down at the paper. Not a lot of them, just.. “One.” Alphonse finished without hesitation. It took a few seconds, but his cheeks heated up and he smiled at the Colonel, not minding at all that he’d snatched back the paper. “If you want a second set of eyes..” He let the rest hang. He’d be here, if Roy wanted another opinion. Sometimes it helped on stale projects, but Alchemists never got the help, as they never shared their work. The rest of the papers were placed back where they belonged. “Why haven’t you ever asked about my world?” He was curious about it, the answer would dictate how the evening went.. He really wanted to tell Roy-- er.. The Colonel-- what was on his mind, but if he really didn’t want to know, for some reason, Alphonse wouldn’t force it on him. It seemed cruel. *** Roy looked back at Al and nodded slightly. “Sure, Al,” the answer he gave when he didn’t have anything else to say. Sometimes it was genuine agreement and sometimes it was a pacifying gesture of words with no meaning or intention behind them. Which one it was depended on the situation. Let Alphonse figure out which one it was now, because maybe even Roy was unsure. He set the paper back where it belonged, walking around the array in a wide berth, with his dark eyes traveling over it, the pile of elements he’d acquired, and then the smattering of detailed notes and charts and diagrams hanging around. Ugh. He’d start over in the morning. Al was talking. Roy looked at him. “... what?” He’d heard him fine. “I don’t know, Alphonse.” He did know. He absolutely did. “Maybe I’m just afraid the choices we’re making there are better than the ones being made here.” *** The look in those bronze eyes was a little eerie, having gone from wide and innocent to deep and knowing, somehow. His face had relaxed, the smile had faded, and Alphonse Elric suddenly looked less like the fourteen year old boy he often looked like, and more like the sixteen year old young man he actually was. His eyes dropped to the array for a moment, in silence, before they came back up again. Mustang might be surprised he could read the look there, one that said he didn’t know if this was a great idea, but he was willing to help. And if the Colonel took a second to ponder out why he could read that look so easily, he’d find it was because it was identical to the look Riza sometimes gave him. It was gone quickly, though, as the young Alchemist studied the array once more, listening to those words. “I’m not talking about the choices you and Riza made.” That statement right there, that might give a hint to whether or not this boy knew about their plan or not. Then again, it might not help at all. “I’m talking about me. Brother told me that my soul is tied to armor in your world.” Ed hadn’t explained how it happened, or why it happened, or who had done it.. But Alphonse had his suspicions, from how guilty Ed seemed. Dipping down, Alphonse took up a small chunk of aluminum from where it sat among other elements on the table, in a small bowl. He turned it between his fingers. “You haven’t asked about me.” Nothing. Not a single curious question. *** He recognized that look. It gave him pause. But it was nothing in comparison to the rest of the words that came out of that boy’s mouth. Guilty, Roy watched him then glanced away. Yeah. He hadn’t asked about it. About anything. About himself, or his brother’s death, how Alphonse had become a State Alchemist. About Hughes. Nothing. He’d accepted Al had come from a different world and then promptly ignored it, treating Al like he was the fleshy version of the boy from his own home. Looking back, he examined Al’s face. “No,” he said. “Did you want me to ask?” Surprisingly, Roy knew how to communicate with people about as well as Ed did. The difference was that Roy had learned to fake it a long, long time ago. *** The suddenly soft, understanding look that came over the boy’s face didn’t belong there. Not on a sixteen year old. Not on someone that young. It was the look of an old man with decades under his belt; an old man who was remembering what it was like to be young and foolish as he watched children not nearly as experienced as himself. “Yeah. I did.” He admitted, looking down at the aluminum chunk held in his hand again. “I really did.” His tone matched the look on his face: Understanding. “It’s okay.” Bending, Alphonse placed the aluminum chunk back in the bowl, then straightened up. “I’m surprised she hasn’t made you clean up this mess yet. And let you draw this array on the floor.” In his world, Riza had not been pleased the first time she’d seen the Colonel drawing all over his beautiful hardwood floors with chalk. *** It was wrong, Al’s expression, it didn’t belong. It was the look in the eyes of every soldier come home from war. Too old for one’s age. Broken inside. The eyes of centuries old generals who’d seen one too many lives lost. And quiet, gentle understanding about how the world worked. Roy looked away again. Then he looked around at the mess, at his own disheveled appearance. She’d seen him in worse states. She’d never seen him like this while he threatened to put a gun to his head and pull the trigger. Hughes had, of course, but Roy had never let himself slip so far with Hawkeye. Well, not with a gun anyway. “She’s just glad to see me doing anything,” so she’d tolerate the mess and his weird, eccentric behaviors, his attitude. And all for love. Roy’s eyes tracked back to Alphonse. “I don’t want to make things worse for you, Alphonse,” he said at last. “You tried to bring your brother back from the dead, and from what you’ve said, I dealt with it.” But maybe he didn’t want to. Maybe he cared too much about the living Ed to imagine having to- He knew how he’d do it anyway, if he had to. “But you can tell me about it, if you want to. I can handle it.” *** It was something about the way Roy said it. Something about the cadence of his speech, or the tone he said it in, the tightness of his words, the body language he said them with. The youngest Elric shook his head, a smile slowly crawling onto his lips, then he laughed-- it was a gentle thing, nothing like the maniacal laughter of the Colonel, or the.. Surprisingly similar laughter of his brother. “You’re a good man, Colonel Mustang.” He thought the dark Alchemist deserved to know it. “Come on, let me take a look at what you’ve got going here.” Circling around the table, he’d take up a seat on the couch and start looking over those papers and the notes scribbled there. “What are you stuck on?” Talking alchemy would be much easier, surely, than talking about any of those feelings the Colonel had never been great at expressing. Alphonse was surrounded by emotionally stunted individuals. All of them. *** Was this what other people felt like when dealing with Roy himself? Alphonse switched between topics and emotions with the same speed Roy did. Holy shit. What else had he learned from Roy Mustang? The Colonel stared at Alphonse for a long, hard moment before he shook his head, and then joined him. But instead of looking at the alchemy (he really would start over in the morning) he just watched Al (he kept wanting to call him Ed), sitting there pouring over notes written in names which could only inspire fantasy scandals, but contained the secrets to diamonds. A diamond, in practice, to ask just one woman a very important question. When Roy had given Hawkeye his recent list of required ingredients for this transmutation, she hadn’t known she’d be gathering the very things that would go into the diamond he’d intended to give to her. He could be a massive asshole sometimes. But in the here and now, Roy looked at Al and shook his head. “No, tell me what’s bothering you,” he said, sitting back, his shoulders slumping a little in relaxation. It was weirdly easier to talk to Alphonse than it was to talk to Edward. They were too alike to be anything but contentious. *** When Roy insisted again that they discuss what was bothering the youngest Elric, he let out a slow breath and folded his hands, dropping them into his lap and studying them for a moment. He didn’t even know where to begin. “It’s stupid, but.. My brother-- Ed--” he clarified, because he felt, somehow, that made things clearer for the man sitting beside him, “Found that red coat of his and he was wearing it yesterday when I came home and.. I don’t know what I thought. Maybe I thought he didn’t have it, in your world. I mean.. Why would we wear the same clothes? Two different worlds. But.. there it was. And it looked just like my brother’s coat, and I just.. Turned into a useless idiot.” The young Alchemist sighed out a breath, a hand coming up to idly pull the hair tie loose and let his hair spill down around his shoulders. He tucked a bit behind his ear. “I just felt stupid, is all.” It went without saying that he’d begun crying like a child at the sight of Ed in his red coat. *** If Roy were honest, that was pretty stupid. His expression probably said as much, which was why he didn’t exactly look at Alphonse directly in the face, he ducked his head a little, tilted his head to the left and just regarded him with a quirked brow. “... why?” he asked after a moment. Why would the sight of a red coat on his brother… make him cry about his brother? Roy genuinely didn’t understand. But then, he’d never had to bury a brother before. Maybe it was a sibling thing. Maybe it was an Elric thing. Maybe it was a blonde thing. All of the things which Roy was not. The Colonel shook his head mildly. Kids. *** Alphonse rolled up his shoulders and laughed softly, stroking his fingers through his own hair absently, combing out non-existent tangles. “My brother always wore that stupid coat. He wore it everywhere. He died in it and..” Al paused as he considered his next words, bronze eyes sliding over Roy’s face, scrutinizing the expression he found there (and oh, he knew Mustang’s face so well, he picked out every little inconsistency) before looking back down at the Alchemy notes. “When they took him away from me I held on.” His voice got a little tighter, bright eyes taking on a distant look as he remembered it. How the blue uniforms had literally pulled Ed’s limp, blood-soaked body from Al’s grasp, as he clutched at it and screamed and fought against Roy, who’d held onto him to assist pulling them apart. But Al had hung onto the coat somehow, trying to pull Ed back into his arms, but his brother had slipped out of the coat and that was all he’d been left with. The scene had been awful. Al often felt bad about it, knowing what a horror it must have been for Mustang to have gone through that. He wished he’d been better about it, cooler, calmer, more adult. But he hadn’t. He’d been hysterical. He hadn’t even been able to bring himself to apologize to Roy about it later. They hadn’t talked about it. They hadn’t needed to. There was nothing to talk about. “I still have it. I cleaned it and repaired it, so I could give it back to him.” Which he hadn’t been able to. Blinking away the memories, he looked up again, staring back at Roy with those wider eyes. He looked like he wanted to say more. He did. He wanted to tell him everything. But instead, he just looked back down. He didn’t need to put this Mustang through that. “I was just being stupid.” Reminded. *** “Ah,” that made more sense. Al had seen Ed die in his coat. He’d kept it. That would be more traumatizing than simply remembering your loved one wearing it a whole bunch. That would be more like nostalgia than outright upset. Roy himself tried not to hold onto such memories because they were useless in the end. What good would he be if he lamented over the fact Hughes and he wore the same damned uniform all their lives? He’d never do anything but mope while he was at work, and life couldn’t stop. No matter what. What use would he be … And yet, the one thing that would probably trip Roy up was Hughes’ glasses. The blind idiot. Mustang looked at his young charge with a softer expression, nodding slightly. “Your brother is dead Alphonse. The dead are where they belong. You can’t bring him back again, no matter how much you might want to. They’re better off that way. You saw the thing you brought back. Do you really want to wish that on Ed?” Roy sure hoped not. He also knew Al had been speaking to Sirius Black about the topic, if only the one time. Maybe nothing had come from it, but Roy felt it important to make his stance known. *** Your brother is dead, Alphonse. The words caused him to blink slowly and he brought his attention back to Mustang. Your brother is dead. His pupils, so dark against the lighter, oddly colored eyes, narrowed slightly in the tell-tale sign of panic and distress. His face, however, didn’t take on the expression. But he must have looked like a bomb, sitting there and waiting to go off. Your brother is dead, Alphonse. Unblinking, his gaze returned to the mess of Alchemy on the coffee table. You saw the thing you brought back. “I hope you figure out that formula for diamonds.” His voice was impossibly calm-- well not calm, really. But normal. Like they hadn’t just been discussing the most traumatic moment in Al’s very short life. “Just don’t propose while she’d got a gun on her, wait for her to just be climbing out of the shower or something.” A bit of friendly advice that came with a smile, even if it was directed at the Alchemy on the table. Oh, Roy, you’d saved this boy-- you were the reason he was alive at all-- and look what you’d turned him into. Look what you and Riza had done. He was as crazy as the pair of you. *** This? This was exactly the reason Roy didn’t want to have this conversation. Because he wasn’t the Mustang Alphonse needed. He was … himself, and Roy as himself was entirely inadequate. He could only make things worse. His proof? That look in Al’s eyes and that eerily calm tone when he spoke. It was more shades of messed up than the sun was shades of yellow and orange. It was simply wrong. And then Al was there talking about Roy’s formulas and giving advice on when to propose. As if they hadn’t just been discussing a very traumatic moment in Al’s life. Roy looked at him, his expression one of quiet panic and uncertainty and just a little bit of anger. He didn’t know what to do, and no matter what he did, it would be wrong. He’d never hear the end of it from Hawkeye or Ed if he fucked Alphonse up right now. Roy froze. “Forget the alchemy and look at me, you idiot,” he said, just a tad bit more harshly than he intended. He shifted, pushing himself up so he could move and crouch in front of the small Elric boy, not quite taking his hands inasmuch as he covered them with his own. “Your brother is the one who died, put that in its place or else you will never really live again. There was nothing you could have done differently, because it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t his fault. Shitty things happen, Alphonse, and they happen for no reason. You can’t change it. You can only choose what you do from here. It’s going to hurt, it always will, but his loss doesn’t define you.” *** Roy was suddenly kneeling in front of him and Alphonse focused on his face, listening to the tone of his words, how harsh they were. It caused tears to well up in those large, round eyes. So many that they threatened to spill over. Your brother is the one who died. There was nothing you could have done differently. It wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t his fault. Shitty things happen. Roy would never see it coming. Alphonse punched him. Right in the jaw. A shot straight from his center-mass, as the Colonel was knelt in front of him at the perfect height. For such a small boy, he packed quite a punch. Then he was pushing up to his feet, hands clenched into fists as he towered over the taller man, who had surely ended up on his rear after that hit, those tears now streaking down his flushed cheeks. “You’re such an asshole!” Well. *** Yep. He fucked up. Roy did fall back onto his ass, but not really because Al had hit him as much as it was out of surprise that he had done it at all. Please, the kid weighed a hundred pounds wet and Roy had been decked by more people in his life than you’d imagine. Something about not being as charming as he believed himself to be. He did look up at Alphonse, the boy’s face tear streaked and angry and anguished. You’re such an asshole. Yeah. He knew. An inadequate asshole. That was why you didn’t come looking for answers and for comfort from the man, you little moron. Roy didn’t say it, of course, he touched his jaw where it still throbbed, looking fairly neutral all things considered. He’d deserved it. Hell, Ed reacted pretty much the same way when he had enough of Mustang’s crap. There was a reason Fullmetal vs Flame happened as frequently as it did. Would this be Flame vs. Windstorm, instead? Roy couldn’t bring himself to be angry about it. Surprised, yes. Shocked. Yes. Angry? Not even a little. “Ow,” he said, a delayed response. “Damn, did Hawkeye teach you how to hit?” *** Roy looked shocked. He looked surprised. He looked caught off guard. Good. He was such an idiot. Al’s fists clenched tighter as the older man spoke up. “Shut up!” He demanded. You, Colonel Idiot, were not allowed to speak, he hadn’t told you that you could speak, had he?! No! The look in his eyes said as much. “You can’t treat me like I’m him! I’m not him! I killed him! And then you-- you killed him! He’s not here because of us and you can’t pretend I’m him! I’m not!” He just looked so furious. And so sad. And so grief stricken-- anguished and destroyed. Was it really any surprise? “Now, get off your ass, wipe that stupid look off your face, stand up like a man and hug me!” What? If Roy hesitated in his shock? “Now!” *** What? The facts reported blindly and without purpose, noting just how stupid Alphonse’s argument was. They both couldn’t have killed Ed. Because neither of them had. It had been the homunculus. But, his brain noted, Alphonse wasn’t exactly thinking clearly, evidenced by the fact the little blonde boy was shouting at his superior officer. He was losing his shit. All that calm, quiet demeanor gone in an instant. Understanding out the window. Fuck. Maybe they should have kept talking about the alchemy instead. Roy’s shock still registered on his face, showing there in his eyes and the part of his lips and the raise of his brows. He wanted a hug. All of that for him to turn around and demand a hug. Maybe he should have just kept hitting Roy because that was something the Colonel understood more. His five second window of hesitation passed, all of that occurring in the space of it, before he was pushing himself to his feet. Had Alphonse been Ed, Roy would have decked him back and walked away. Or sent Ed away, either or. But Alphonse had just insisted he wasn’t his brother (then why did you wear his clothes? Keep your hair long? Try to keep up his legacy?), so maybe it required a different approach. He stood there, hesitating, then he stepped in and did in fact hug the boy. He wasn’t very good at it… but maybe Hawkeye’s advice to pretend Al was Elicia wasn’t unwarranted after all. He softened, and he ducked his head down atop that stupid blonde’s and held onto him. “I’m sorry,” he said. And he was. He wasn’t good at this. *** Al’s arms curled around Mustang’s waist and he held on, pressing his face into the older man’s shoulder and upper chest, eyes closing tightly. “I know.” Came the muttered response. He knew that Roy was sorry. “I forgive you.” Well, just listen to that. Things were so much more simple with Alphonse. Well.. some things. Finally, he turned his face away and just set his cheek to that shoulder instead. “I’m sorry I hit you, but you deserved it.” An apology without devaluing the punch that Roy had so justly deserved. It was a fair way to deal with the situation. “I wanted to tell you,” he admitted quietly, “What happened. I’ve never talked to anyone about it before, not really.” He rubbed his face along that t-shirt covered shoulder, wiping his tears off on it-- sorry, Roy. “I thought it’d make me feel better.” But he couldn’t. He felt so bad about dropping it on this version of Mustang. *** Heh. Idiot. Who was this kid? And why did he trust Mustang so implicitly. What comfort did he find there in his arms? What was Roy to him? And… how could Roy be anything the kid needed? He didn’t know. Alphonse didn’t seem to mind either way. “Yeah,” he agreed about the hit, “I did.” Deserve it. He was harsh, because being harsh worked on Ed. Alphonse wasn’t him, no matter how much he looked it or pretended by way of his appearance. “Talking is always going to hurt, Al,” he said, “Especially because you can’t always be ready for what anyone’s going to say once you’ve come out with it.” As evidenced by Al’s reaction to Roy. “But talking is the only way it becomes real, and only by it being real can you ever hope to deal with it.” He looked down at him, frowning. “It wasn’t your fault. You said you killed him, it isn’t true, Al. Not at all.” Roy killing Ed a second time? That had more merit as an argument than the other. Mustang touched those blonde locks the way he usually did Riza’s.. Without all the extra elements of uh.. Attraction, attached to it. Just a sort of gentle affection. *** Al let out a breath against that shoulder and tightened his arms. It had to be evident by now that there was no way Mustang could treat these brothers the same. Not a chance in Hell. Al was still hanging on. “You’re saying that because you’re obligated. You weren’t there. You didn’t see it. You don’t know anything about it.” His words, though pointed and sure, were surprisingly quiet and gentle. Almost soothing. “Roy knew it was my fault.” He turned his face some in against the older man’s shoulder. “But he didn’t hate me for it,” tears sprung to his eyes again, “And I don’t know why.” *** That much was true. He wasn’t there. Some other version of himself was, but… Roy knew himself. And he knew that any version of himself wouldn’t blame a boy for something that was out of his control. “You didn’t do anything wrong,” he said. “But you’re right, I don’t know. I wasn’t there. So tell me what happened,” he said, touching Al’s chin to tilt his head upward so Roy could look into those golden bronze eyes. “I’ve only got half the details here, kid. Half the details and an incorrect idea about you.” He smiled a little, wry. At least he could admit when he was wrong and being stupid. And he was wrong and stupid about the boy clinging to him. “And then I’ll tell you why it is that your Roy doesn’t hate you.” *** Information for information. It sounded like a fair trade. Roy wanted to know. Did that make it okay to tell him? Maybe it didn't. Maybe Al should have known better-- really, he did know better, but he didn’t really care. Roy had asked. And Alphonse was desperate to get it off his chest. He’d been carrying it for far too long and it hurt. So he nodded a little, biting his bottom lip briefly before letting it go and sighing softly. Slowly, his arms began to release the Colonel. The front door opened a second later and those wide, wet eyes turned onto it to find Riza standing there with a bag of food, her brown eyes locking onto the scene and causing her to freeze. “..Sir?” Did he want her to go? *** The door opened and salvation appeared in the shape of Riza Hawkeye. Roy could let her take over. He could let her handle it, because she handled situations like these a thousand times better than Roy ever could. She was patient and kind and she tried to understand no matter the limitations on her due to her past. He could let Alphonse go, excuse himself, leave them there to talk it out. Roy’s eyes said as much, when he looked up and made eye contact with her. Their silent communication something that probably wasn’t lost on the younger Elric. Yeah, okay, see? Roy could learn. His expression changed and he seemed resigned, or resolved.. Just accepting. “Give us the room, Lieutenant Hawkeye, we’re talking,” Just the two of them. Alphonse needed it. Roy would catch her up later. She knew he would. For now, he’d told Al he’d listen, and he would. *** “Yes, sir.” She set the food down on the table and moved past them both, heading for the office, where she’d close herself in. She could get some work done while they talked, it seemed like a good way to spend the time. Alphonse watched her go, then took a slow step away from Roy and rubbed his hands over his cheeks to clean off any left over tears. “You don’t have to do this.” He reminded him again, sounding just as resolute. It was alright, Roy, he was giving you an out. The three of you could just eat and move past this. *** “We’re already here, Al, sit down and talk to me so I don’t have to keep guessing, and you don’t have to keep pretending.” He pushed a hand through his dark hair and sank down on the dumpy little couch, his dark eyes turning up to Alphonse standing there. He watched him for a moment, then patted the cushion at his side so Alphonse could sit. They’d eat afterward. Hawkeye hadn’t taken her meal, and Roy wouldn’t force her to eat it cold while he and Al had a hot one, so they’d all wait and eat together after. *** Letting out a slow breath, Al sat down beside him, close enough their thighs and shoulders touched. He really was nothing like Ed. He might have dressed like him. He might have worn his hair like him. He might have done his best to keep doing all the good things his brother had done.. But he wasn’t him. He never would be. Ed had always been stronger. “There were.. There were homunculi.” He began after a second of thought. “We didn’t know where they came from, they were just.. There one day.” He waved a hand some, as if to indicate he wasn’t going into further detail. Either Roy had the same experience or he didn’t, there wasn’t anymore Al wanted to say on the subject of those creatures. “Envy was one of them. He was.. Strong. We were in Central, we weren’t even traveling. Ed wanted to stay inside and read but he’d mentioned he was getting a headache and I insisted we go out and get something to eat and stop by the library to pick up a few books that were waiting for us. He agreed to go and on our way there we were attacked.” His hands clasped and wrung together some. “Neither one of us saw it coming. We’d encountered Envy before and he’d always had this.. Interest in Brother.” It’d been strange and unnatural and Alphonse hadn’t liked it. No one had. Envy had seemed to have it out for Ed. “He knew. He kept separating us. He kept pushing us apart and attacking me. Ed kept going after him, but Envy just knocked him back and came after me again and again.” Those bronze eyes dropped. “He never really hurt me, he just kept cutting me, he was just trying to work Ed into a frenzy.” And knowing Ed, it’d worked. “He was just trying to scare me.” And knowing Al, that had worked, too. “The further he pushed us apart, the more frantic Brother got, the more panicked I got, and the wider his-- stupid grin got, and the more scared I got.” The youngest Elric’s voice cracked a little, his eyes remaining locked on his clasped hands. “And I don’t know when I started, but I was shouting for Ed,” he shook his head, hair spilling over his shoulders to hang in front of him, “And Envy.. wrapped me up and held me down and he was going to impale me and I was yelling.. I was so scared.” He’d been fourteen, barely fourteen, it was entirely understandable. There was a reason they didn’t let anyone younger than sixteen go to academy. There was a reason they didn’t let anyone younger than eighteen head off to war-- unless there were drastic times. Those called for drastic measures-- like Ishval. But this hadn’t been Ishval. This had just been Roy Mustang and his prodigy brothers. And a fourteen year old boy had been put out there. It’d been a stupid call. “And then Ed was there.” Those words were just a breath. “And they started fighting, and I was struggling and screaming and..” He shook his head again, squinting his eyes down hard and forcing those tears out. It hurt just to say the words. “And the more Envy cut him, we started to realize he was just playing with us, he just wanted to hurt us. He just wanted to hurt Ed. And he.. He got Ed wrapped up and shoved him against the wall and he was talking about how the best way to hurt Ed was to kill me and--” He lifted a hand and wiped it over his face. “And I yelled for Ed to help me.” His voice cracked and he was quiet for a few seconds. “And Brother said he’d die in my place, that it was an equivalent exchange, his life for mine. Envy let him go and...” He shook his head once, almost violently, sending his hair flying briefly. “And he put himself between me and Envy. And he gave me this look, like he knew it was going to be okay, and he looked off to the East and nodded that way and.. And there you were.” Mustang. “And you were running for us.” Ed had been stalling. It’d been a brilliant tactic. It might have worked. “And when I looked back at Ed, I knew it was going to be okay, you were there to save us and.. And then Envy..” He wet his lips. He couldn’t say it. He couldn’t even get it out. “He looked so surprised. He..” The tears were overflowing again as Alphonse struggled to get the words out. “He hit the ground and Envy backed away and you started attacking him and he let me go and I grabbed Ed and..” His breath hitched, hands clenching tightly and pressing hard into his lap. “But he didn’t get up when I told him to, and he told me he was so sorry and he just kept telling me I was going to be alright, until he stopped--” He choked on those words, then angrily lifted a hand to smear the tears from his face. “I wouldn’t let them take him away, I was so sure he was playing some stupid joke.” Those words were a bare whisper. All Al could do was stare down at his lap. “I was so angry.” At Envy for hurting them both. At himself for being so scared. At Ed for sacrificing himself. At Mustang for being late. At the team for taking his brother away. At the world for letting him live, while Ed had died. *** Roy had asked for the story, and he almost wished he hadn’t. It was difficult to sit there and listen to this child recount the story of his brother’s death, but Roy did listen, because his discomfort with the telling wasn’t nearly as difficult as it must have been for this child to endure it. And Alphonse Elric was a child, no matter the occasional look in his eyes and the surety in his voice that tried to indicate otherwise. He’d watched his brother die after the pair of them had been used as tools, as toys, for some insane creature’s personal pleasure. It was sickening and twisted, and ugly. It was all the things that were wrong in the world and exactly the thing that would have broken the brothers’ spirits. It had broken them. Ed had died and the shadow that was Alphonse Elric was left in the boy’s place. If it had been Alphonse who’d died, Ed probably would have followed shortly after. Al thought Ed was stronger, but Ed’s strength was hard, like glass. It was strong until you struck it at just the right angle, then it crumbled to pieces. Alphonse’s strength was more malleable, it gave and it bent where it needed to, and it kept holding on. That was how the boy could love and cry and hate and wonder all at the same time. He was stronger than he thought, and Mustang saw it clearly. He always had. Ed cloaked himself in anger and hatred and pushed people away. He withdrew and simply failed to live when his strength gave out. Alphonse didn’t. He felt, and then he moved on again. Roy frowned at him, he understood now why Al kept claiming that he’d killed his brother, and he could feel comfortable now telling him why it simply wasn’t true. “You were a child,” he said after a moment, his voice quiet, tone even. “You were scared, and you wanted your brother whom you have always relied on when you were afraid. There is nothing wrong with that.” He reached out and touched that stupid blonde head. “... we don’t get to decide anyone’s choices for them, Al, you can’t think you’d make a better choice than your brother did in that moment.” When he’d put himself between his brother and Envy and died for it. He’d sacrificed himself for love. Roy hesitated briefly before he put an arm around Al and drew him in closer to his side. He’d been too late to save Ed. But apparently he’d done everything in his power from that moment onward to save Al. Yeah, that was a Roy Mustang move. Roy, who, out in the smoke and acrid smelling deserts of Ishval, had declared that he’d do everything in his power to protect the one’s he loved. Anything less than his absolute best attempt wasn’t acceptable. He understood now why this boy had meant so much to that other version of himself. Why he’d kept him so close. He’d failed with Ed.. Roy closed his eyes and exhaled a breath. “He was right though,” he said quietly, still, “you’ll be okay. You’re alright.” Roy had him. *** Alphonse slumped in against Roy like it was all he needed in the entire world. And maybe it was. He just needed to be close. He needed to be held. And told it was going to be okay. He didn’t need to be yelled at. He needed to be loved and looked after. “Maybe I wouldn’t have made a better choice if I was in his position.. But if he’d been in mine, he would have been able to tough it out. He wouldn’t have called for me, he would have been strong. I should have been strong. One day I will be.” And that. That was when he’d decided he wanted Flame Alchemy, so he could be strong, too. Mustang hadn’t agreed to it, though. Of course he hadn’t. He didn’t care why Al wanted it, it was off the table. No way. A hand came up to wipe at his eyes again. He didn’t have anymore tears left. He had a headache. And Ed had forbidden him from climbing in his bed tonight. “I’m sorry I dumped all of this on you.” He turned his head and pressed his cheek to Roy’s chest, letting out a soft breath. “Thank you for listening to me. And for not yelling at me.” He knew he was alright. Roy had him. *** Roy didn’t say anything for a while. Maybe Al was right that Ed would have toughed it out. Maybe he was wrong, and Ed would have wept and screamed and cried for his brother in the end. Who could say? They’d never find out. And it was for the best, really. Maybe some other version with the opposite story would show up and they’d learn what a different Ed would do then. And maybe they wouldn’t. Roy opted to discard the thought, simply allowing the boy to slump against him for the moment. He kept his arm around him, offering what comfort he could. “I yell at everyone, Alphonse,” he said, splaying his fingers over the boy’s head then lightly petting his hair. Roy liked being pet by Hawkeye, he assumed others would, too. “And it’s okay, I can take it.” He would. He could carry it along with everything else. It was fine. Strength had nothing to do with it, it was just what he did. Hawkeye, at some points, must think Roy had enough on his plate, but the man himself never cared. “.. anything you need, Alphonse,” he said after a moment. “Just ask.” *** Flame Alchemy. It was on the tip of his tongue. He didn’t say it. He just relaxed into Roy’s arms, enjoying the way the older Alchemist pet his hair. It was long-- it was longer than Ed’s. That single fact had to be telling. The boys were nearly the same age, a few months apart at this point, and Alphonse’s hair was longer. Perhaps his own brother’s hair had been longer than this Ed? It wasn’t something Roy could know, but it suggested Al had been growing his hair for longer than Ed had, or perhaps just that he cut it less. Still, it wasn’t two years worth of growth. He hadn’t started growing it after his brother died. He wore his clothes, it was some sort of morbid reminder, but he hadn’t grown out his hair for that reason. Hell, he didn’t even braid it. He’d stopped braiding it when Ed had died. It was strange. He hadn’t wanted people to mistake him for Ed. And then he’d begun wearing his clothes. Alphonse had a few cracks, there was no denying that. “Do you have any chocolate milk?” He knew that wasn’t what Roy meant, and surely Roy knew that Al hadn’t thought he meant something so trivial.. But.. well. It was a good use of the new offer from his superior. *** Really. It was good Alphonse didn’t say it. This little cuddling session would be the first and the last of Alphonse’s short life, because Roy would have killed him. Or made him cry and sent him off to never come back, which would also inadvertently kill him. So chocolate milk was much more doable. It was better than death by fire. Roy looked at him, shook his head and said, “No, sorry. Anything else?” Then he chuckled and pushed himself up from the couch, stretching like a cat. “Let’s see what the Lieutenant brought to eat.” Then he pushed a hand through his disheveled hair and hollered, “Hawkeye!” She always heard him. It was like the woman listened for it. When she inevitably came out, Roy smiled. “Time to eat.” *** When Riza appeared, she did well not to react to the scene she saw there, with Al tucked in close and Roy looking surprisingly comfortable while holding him. She’d ask about it later. “I’ll reheat it.” She offered, eyes raking over the pair of them before she gave Roy an approving look. Not bad, Colonel. Those brown eyes, however, paused on his face. His jaw. Her head tilted. He had a red mark. “Sir?” What was that? The meal could wait until an answer-- even just a glance-- gave her some indication of what in the heck had gone on here. *** He waved her off. It was fine. It was unimportant. He’d deserved it. And it wasn’t a concern, given the fact Alphonse was still in the room, still cuddled against him, still whole. Roy looked back at the boy, then to the woman, before he detached himself and crossed the room toward her, his dark eyes meeting her brazen brown as he shrugged. Don’t worry about it, Hawkeye. “We settled our differences,” he supplied, “Do we have chocolate milk?” *** The look in her Killer’s eyes told him that they would be discussing it later, once Alphonse had left. It was, however, left alone for now as she let her eyes slip to the boy, who was watching the pair of them tiredly, his eyes still red-rimmed. “We have milk and chocolate. I can make some chocolate milk if that’s what you’d like, sir.” Her eyes found the darker set of her superior once again. “We’ll have it with dinner.” It was as simple as that. All Mustang ever had to do was ask and Hawkeye made his desires into a reality. It was dedication. It was loyalty. More than that, it was love. Turning, the blonde woman headed into the kitchen with their meals and would heat up the oven so she could tuck them inside and give them a few minutes to warm back up again. While that was happening, she’d get to work on the chocolate milk. Alphonse continued to watch from the living area. He’d always liked watching the two of them interact. |