FMA fic: "Season of War: A Time to Lose"
Season of War: A Time to Lose
S J Smith
Characters: Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric, Winry Rockbell
Rating: Mature due to language and situations.
Prompt: The effect of impact on stationary objects
Word count: 2019
Summary: It only takes one little thing to change your life.
A.N.: Manga-based; this story takes place in an A.R. that begins when Ed, Winry and Alphonse leave Central to go south to Dublith in that they don’t actually make it there. Written for the
7stages (of Alchemic Transformation) challenge. The first story is: “ A Time to Rend,” the second is “A Time to Reap.”
Much thanks to D. M. Evans (aka
cornerofmadness) for the edits.
Disclaimer: I am not now, nor have I ever been, Hiromu Arakawa. (I just play her on TV.)
* * *
Dawn still hadn’t quite arrived when the train pulled into the Central City station. It didn’t matter to the porters and luggage handlers and tenders and engineers, accustomed to working at all hours to keep the trains moving on time. The passengers, on the other hand, were more acclimated to the diurnal lifestyle. Being woken and dumped off into a chilly train station before the sun even considered rising wasn’t something anyone would willingly choose.
And yet, here they were. Winry rubbed at her eyes with the back of her free hand, the other knotted around the carry strap of her tool chest. “Are you sure this is Central?” she asked.
A large hand landed on her shoulder, guiding her out of the way of a rushing porter. “Yes.” Alphonse’s voice sounded tinny as always but also muffled, as if the morning affected him, too. “The conductor announced it before we pulled into the station.”
On her other side, Ed paused, frowning up at the timepiece that hung over the archway in the station. “It’s too early for Hughes to be at Headquarters,” he said, his mouth tightening.
“I think I remember where he and Mrs. Hughes live.” Winry hoped she didn’t sound as doubtful as she thought she did.
“You know more than we do.” Ed sighed, starting out of the station. Winry and Alphonse caught up to him as he reached the stairs, surprised to find him standing on the top step, his back rigid in surprise. “Oh, hell.”
“What is it, Brother?” Alphonse asked then realization struck. “First Lieutenant Hawkeye?”
“Hello Edward, Alphonse.” She nodded at them coolly from the sidewalk at the bottom of the steps. “What are you boys doing here?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Ed muttered. Winry noticed his hand clenching. “Wait, if you’re here,” his voice trailed off and he whipped around, grimacing. “Why are you here in Central?”
“Is that any way to speak to your superior officer, Fullmetal?”
His voice was fluid and rich, reminding Winry inexplicably of a broad river, moving slow and sure. The thought came to her that she recognized that voice, somehow, and she frowned slightly, glancing from the dark-haired man moving slowly but steadily through the rush of people around him. It might’ve been his uniform that accorded him the respect that neither she nor Ed received from the rushing people but Winry thought maybe it was something innate, something more substantial. She decided abruptly that Ed probably might try to emulate this but Al would be more likely to achieve it. The slide of metal on metal let her know that Alphonse was inclining his head politely while Ed, standing next to her, bristled up like a hedgehog.
“Good morning, Colonel,” Al said and received equally polite reply.
“Did you get kicked out of the East?” Ed interrupted.
The man’s eyebrows rose slightly, as if he just noticed her, giving her a charming smile. Brushing past Edward, he offered Winry his hand. “Good morning, my dear,” he said and Winry could swear Ed bristled up that much more. “Are you traveling with the Elric brothers?”
“I, yes?” Winry wasn’t sure she liked being under such scrutiny.
“I’m Colonel Roy Mustang,” he said in introduction, giving her hand a little squeeze. “Should you need anything, I hope you’ll remember my name.”
“She doesn’t need anything from you,” Ed snarled and Winry heard the servos in his automail whining from strain as he clenched his fist.
Colonel Mustang’s smirk was just barely there. Winry wondered if Ed could even see it. “And I see you’re as polite as ever, Fullmetal. Or are you just keeping her for yourself?”
“Now, Brother,” Alphonse said, his gauntlets dropping onto Ed’s shoulders before he could rush forward. “Colonel, this is Winry Rockbell. She’s our friend and Brother’s mechanic.”
“How do you do,” Winry said politely before extracting her hand. She noticed the blond woman coming back up the stairs, a long jacket hung over her bent arm. Winry frowned slightly, thinking that the woman looked familiar.
“Fullmetal’s mechanic? I’m sure he has no idea how lucky he is,” the colonel said, and though the words sounded innocuous enough, Ed’s mouth turned down even more and he nearly lunged out of Alphonse’s grip.
“Take it back, you bastard,” Ed growled and raised a fist.
“Good morning, Edward. Good morning, Alphonse,” the woman said, joining them. “Sir, you aren’t teasing Edward, are you?”
“Teasing?” The colonel gave her a bland look. “I was only complementing the young lady. Miss Rockbell, this is First Lieutenant Hawkeye.”
“Oh, I know you,” Winry blurted out, offering the woman a shy smile. “You came with someone to talk to Ed about joining the military.”
“You were there?” Ed gave Lieutenant Hawkeye a once-over.
“You offered me tea. I remember now.” Hawkeye smiled gently. “You’ve grown into a lovely young woman, Winry, isn’t it?”
She nodded, surprised that this woman remembered her name. “Yes. And you’ve let your hair grow out.” Winry could almost feel Ed becoming impatient beside her. “It looks pretty.”
“Thank you, Winry.” Lieutenant Hawkeye nodded at the brothers. “What brings the three of you to Central?”
Ed rubbed the back of his head, laughing shortly. “We got this weird call from Hughes last night,” he started to say, the words dying as both the colonel and the lieutenant turned shocked expressions on him. “What?”
“Did you say Lieutenant Colonel Hughes called you?” Mustang asked and Winry noticed his fist clenching almost as tightly as Ed’s.
“Yeah.” Ed’s eyebrows canted down. “What’s going on?” He took a step closer to the colonel, lowering his voice. “I mean, the things he said.”
“He said?” Mustang sounded as if he was being strangled. “What did he say?”
Lieutenant Hawkeye said, “This may not be the place for this conversation, sir.” Winry could see the strain in her eyes and wondered at it. “I’ve commissioned a vehicle. We can drop the Elrics and Winry off at their hotel.”
His expression cold, Mustang dipped his head in agreement. “Do you have your luggage? Yes? Then let’s go.” Sweeping around, Mustang gestured for them to follow, leaving Ed standing with his mouth hanging open.
“Brother?” Alphonse started down the stairs, hesitating when Edward didn’t immediately move.
“What the hell is going on?” Ed stormed past Al, leaving Winry trailing behind them both.
There was barely enough room in the back seat for them all but somehow, they fit. Winry wasn’t sure she’d ever breathe properly again, thinking she was very glad that the flanges on Alphonse’s greaves were pressed close against his sides. Ed somehow squirmed forward to lean over the back of the front seat, demanding answers to his questions.
Mustang’s voice, low and level, but full of some emotion Winry couldn’t define, broke in. “What do you mean, Hughes called you last night?”
Huffing, Edward said, “He said crazy things.” Jerking a thumb over his shoulder, Ed went on, “Said that Al, Winry and I needed to get out of Amestris.”
The two adults in the front seat swiveled to meet each other’s gazes before Hawkeye turned her attention firmly back to the road in front of them. Mustang grated, “Last night.”
“Yeah. The clerk dragged me and Al downstairs to take the call.” Ed’s voice turned a little plaintive. “Do you know what he’s talking about?”
“This probably isn’t a conversation to be had in a car, either,” Mustang said darkly. He gestured at a side street and Hawkeye turned the car down it.
Ed fumed while Hawkeye parked the car. “What do you know?” he asked.
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Mustang said, climbing out of the front seat. He inclined his head and, swearing under his breath, Edward waited for Al to get out and followed him.
“Wait here, Winry,” Alphonse said, showing her his palm when she started to follow them.
With a sigh and a little pout, Winry folded her arms. “I never get to hear anything,” she muttered then realized that Hawkeye hadn’t gotten out of the car, either. A flush brightened her cheeks as she noticed the woman eyeing her in the mirror.
“Did you speak to the Lieutenant Colonel as well, Winry?” Hawkeye asked, her voice low.
She shook her head. “No, Ed woke me up with his yelling. He told me to get packed, we were coming to Central.” Winry lowered her eyes to her hands, clasped in her lap. “Ed said that Mr. Hughes, well, that we should leave Amestris because there’s a war coming.” Peeping through her bangs, Winry saw a strange expression flit across Miss Hawkeye’s reflection. “Is there something wrong?”
Ed’s shout startled Winry, spinning her towards the window. His whole body radiated shock, his shoulders shaking slightly and his fists clenching up tight. Winry thought he might fly apart at the seams. “The hell you say,” he yelled.
“Brother, calm down,” Alphonse was saying as Winry popped open the door to the car, stepping out of it.
She winced at the stench in the alley; the faint smell of rotting garbage still evident in the cool weather. Overhead, the morning sky brightened and Winry knew the sun would be burning off the mist. She tugged at her jacket cuffs nervously, setting her feet carefully on the slick surface. “What’s wrong, Ed, Al?”
“Winry, get back in the car,” Alphonse said, though his voice sounded strangely muffled.
Mustang’s face was cool and distant. “I’m telling you the truth, Fullmetal.”
“It isn’t true,” Ed bit out and Winry thought if he took a step closer to the colonel, Ed would hit the man. “It can’t be true.”
Mustang’s head was turned away from them, as if he didn’t want to face them to tell them what he knew. Winry moved hesitantly nearer, hearing faintly behind her the scuff of shoes on the brick street. Unfamiliar hands fell on her shoulders and Winry leaned against their weight, trying to break free. Something was happening and she refused to miss out again.
“I’m sorry,” Mustang finally said, the words laden with regret. He turned to face the brothers and Winry could see Ed trembling, his panting breath making plumes in front of his face.
“No,” Ed muttered and whirled away from the colonel, from Al, his wild eyes not quite focusing on her as he slammed his fist into the brick wall of a building.
“Brother!” Alphonse cried out as Winry said, “Ed!” Neither of them was able to move, Winry held in place by Hawkeye’s hands; Al as if he was alchemized to the filthy street. Ed fell against the wall, turning as if its brace was the only thing keeping him upright. A sickly smile cocked his mouth; his eyes strange and dark and Ed passed his hand, glove ripped from its encounter with the wall, over his face.
Alphonse turned back to the colonel, the creak of his armor loud in the tightness of the alley. “You can’t be right,” he said.
Mustang eyed him as if looking down from a height though the eye slots for Al’s armor were high above his head. “I wish I weren’t,” he said, the words dripping from him like bitter gall.
“What is it?” Winry asked desperately, feeling as if the ground pulled out from under her. Ed shuddered again, his face turning away from her. Winry tried to catch Alphonse’s gaze but his helmet lowered. Mustang turned that distant look to her and spoke words that made no sense.
Later, she remembered a sound, a sheer, choked sound that clawed its way out of her throat and Al reaching for her when she broke down, Lieutenant Hawkeye unable to keep her upright. Later, Winry remembered clutching at the greaves of Alphonse’s armor, his leather gauntlets a ghostlike weight on her shoulders. Later, she remembered Ed’s expression, his mouth turned down and eyes full of guilt and sorrow.
Now, now, she just wanted to punch a wall, too, so maybe the pain would go away.
* * *
S J Smith
Characters: Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric, Winry Rockbell
Rating: Mature due to language and situations.
Prompt: The effect of impact on stationary objects
Word count: 2019
Summary: It only takes one little thing to change your life.
A.N.: Manga-based; this story takes place in an A.R. that begins when Ed, Winry and Alphonse leave Central to go south to Dublith in that they don’t actually make it there. Written for the
7stages (of Alchemic Transformation) challenge. The first story is: “ A Time to Rend,” the second is “A Time to Reap.”
Much thanks to D. M. Evans (aka
cornerofmadness) for the edits.
Disclaimer: I am not now, nor have I ever been, Hiromu Arakawa. (I just play her on TV.)
* * *
Dawn still hadn’t quite arrived when the train pulled into the Central City station. It didn’t matter to the porters and luggage handlers and tenders and engineers, accustomed to working at all hours to keep the trains moving on time. The passengers, on the other hand, were more acclimated to the diurnal lifestyle. Being woken and dumped off into a chilly train station before the sun even considered rising wasn’t something anyone would willingly choose.
And yet, here they were. Winry rubbed at her eyes with the back of her free hand, the other knotted around the carry strap of her tool chest. “Are you sure this is Central?” she asked.
A large hand landed on her shoulder, guiding her out of the way of a rushing porter. “Yes.” Alphonse’s voice sounded tinny as always but also muffled, as if the morning affected him, too. “The conductor announced it before we pulled into the station.”
On her other side, Ed paused, frowning up at the timepiece that hung over the archway in the station. “It’s too early for Hughes to be at Headquarters,” he said, his mouth tightening.
“I think I remember where he and Mrs. Hughes live.” Winry hoped she didn’t sound as doubtful as she thought she did.
“You know more than we do.” Ed sighed, starting out of the station. Winry and Alphonse caught up to him as he reached the stairs, surprised to find him standing on the top step, his back rigid in surprise. “Oh, hell.”
“What is it, Brother?” Alphonse asked then realization struck. “First Lieutenant Hawkeye?”
“Hello Edward, Alphonse.” She nodded at them coolly from the sidewalk at the bottom of the steps. “What are you boys doing here?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Ed muttered. Winry noticed his hand clenching. “Wait, if you’re here,” his voice trailed off and he whipped around, grimacing. “Why are you here in Central?”
“Is that any way to speak to your superior officer, Fullmetal?”
His voice was fluid and rich, reminding Winry inexplicably of a broad river, moving slow and sure. The thought came to her that she recognized that voice, somehow, and she frowned slightly, glancing from the dark-haired man moving slowly but steadily through the rush of people around him. It might’ve been his uniform that accorded him the respect that neither she nor Ed received from the rushing people but Winry thought maybe it was something innate, something more substantial. She decided abruptly that Ed probably might try to emulate this but Al would be more likely to achieve it. The slide of metal on metal let her know that Alphonse was inclining his head politely while Ed, standing next to her, bristled up like a hedgehog.
“Good morning, Colonel,” Al said and received equally polite reply.
“Did you get kicked out of the East?” Ed interrupted.
The man’s eyebrows rose slightly, as if he just noticed her, giving her a charming smile. Brushing past Edward, he offered Winry his hand. “Good morning, my dear,” he said and Winry could swear Ed bristled up that much more. “Are you traveling with the Elric brothers?”
“I, yes?” Winry wasn’t sure she liked being under such scrutiny.
“I’m Colonel Roy Mustang,” he said in introduction, giving her hand a little squeeze. “Should you need anything, I hope you’ll remember my name.”
“She doesn’t need anything from you,” Ed snarled and Winry heard the servos in his automail whining from strain as he clenched his fist.
Colonel Mustang’s smirk was just barely there. Winry wondered if Ed could even see it. “And I see you’re as polite as ever, Fullmetal. Or are you just keeping her for yourself?”
“Now, Brother,” Alphonse said, his gauntlets dropping onto Ed’s shoulders before he could rush forward. “Colonel, this is Winry Rockbell. She’s our friend and Brother’s mechanic.”
“How do you do,” Winry said politely before extracting her hand. She noticed the blond woman coming back up the stairs, a long jacket hung over her bent arm. Winry frowned slightly, thinking that the woman looked familiar.
“Fullmetal’s mechanic? I’m sure he has no idea how lucky he is,” the colonel said, and though the words sounded innocuous enough, Ed’s mouth turned down even more and he nearly lunged out of Alphonse’s grip.
“Take it back, you bastard,” Ed growled and raised a fist.
“Good morning, Edward. Good morning, Alphonse,” the woman said, joining them. “Sir, you aren’t teasing Edward, are you?”
“Teasing?” The colonel gave her a bland look. “I was only complementing the young lady. Miss Rockbell, this is First Lieutenant Hawkeye.”
“Oh, I know you,” Winry blurted out, offering the woman a shy smile. “You came with someone to talk to Ed about joining the military.”
“You were there?” Ed gave Lieutenant Hawkeye a once-over.
“You offered me tea. I remember now.” Hawkeye smiled gently. “You’ve grown into a lovely young woman, Winry, isn’t it?”
She nodded, surprised that this woman remembered her name. “Yes. And you’ve let your hair grow out.” Winry could almost feel Ed becoming impatient beside her. “It looks pretty.”
“Thank you, Winry.” Lieutenant Hawkeye nodded at the brothers. “What brings the three of you to Central?”
Ed rubbed the back of his head, laughing shortly. “We got this weird call from Hughes last night,” he started to say, the words dying as both the colonel and the lieutenant turned shocked expressions on him. “What?”
“Did you say Lieutenant Colonel Hughes called you?” Mustang asked and Winry noticed his fist clenching almost as tightly as Ed’s.
“Yeah.” Ed’s eyebrows canted down. “What’s going on?” He took a step closer to the colonel, lowering his voice. “I mean, the things he said.”
“He said?” Mustang sounded as if he was being strangled. “What did he say?”
Lieutenant Hawkeye said, “This may not be the place for this conversation, sir.” Winry could see the strain in her eyes and wondered at it. “I’ve commissioned a vehicle. We can drop the Elrics and Winry off at their hotel.”
His expression cold, Mustang dipped his head in agreement. “Do you have your luggage? Yes? Then let’s go.” Sweeping around, Mustang gestured for them to follow, leaving Ed standing with his mouth hanging open.
“Brother?” Alphonse started down the stairs, hesitating when Edward didn’t immediately move.
“What the hell is going on?” Ed stormed past Al, leaving Winry trailing behind them both.
There was barely enough room in the back seat for them all but somehow, they fit. Winry wasn’t sure she’d ever breathe properly again, thinking she was very glad that the flanges on Alphonse’s greaves were pressed close against his sides. Ed somehow squirmed forward to lean over the back of the front seat, demanding answers to his questions.
Mustang’s voice, low and level, but full of some emotion Winry couldn’t define, broke in. “What do you mean, Hughes called you last night?”
Huffing, Edward said, “He said crazy things.” Jerking a thumb over his shoulder, Ed went on, “Said that Al, Winry and I needed to get out of Amestris.”
The two adults in the front seat swiveled to meet each other’s gazes before Hawkeye turned her attention firmly back to the road in front of them. Mustang grated, “Last night.”
“Yeah. The clerk dragged me and Al downstairs to take the call.” Ed’s voice turned a little plaintive. “Do you know what he’s talking about?”
“This probably isn’t a conversation to be had in a car, either,” Mustang said darkly. He gestured at a side street and Hawkeye turned the car down it.
Ed fumed while Hawkeye parked the car. “What do you know?” he asked.
“I was going to ask you the same thing,” Mustang said, climbing out of the front seat. He inclined his head and, swearing under his breath, Edward waited for Al to get out and followed him.
“Wait here, Winry,” Alphonse said, showing her his palm when she started to follow them.
With a sigh and a little pout, Winry folded her arms. “I never get to hear anything,” she muttered then realized that Hawkeye hadn’t gotten out of the car, either. A flush brightened her cheeks as she noticed the woman eyeing her in the mirror.
“Did you speak to the Lieutenant Colonel as well, Winry?” Hawkeye asked, her voice low.
She shook her head. “No, Ed woke me up with his yelling. He told me to get packed, we were coming to Central.” Winry lowered her eyes to her hands, clasped in her lap. “Ed said that Mr. Hughes, well, that we should leave Amestris because there’s a war coming.” Peeping through her bangs, Winry saw a strange expression flit across Miss Hawkeye’s reflection. “Is there something wrong?”
Ed’s shout startled Winry, spinning her towards the window. His whole body radiated shock, his shoulders shaking slightly and his fists clenching up tight. Winry thought he might fly apart at the seams. “The hell you say,” he yelled.
“Brother, calm down,” Alphonse was saying as Winry popped open the door to the car, stepping out of it.
She winced at the stench in the alley; the faint smell of rotting garbage still evident in the cool weather. Overhead, the morning sky brightened and Winry knew the sun would be burning off the mist. She tugged at her jacket cuffs nervously, setting her feet carefully on the slick surface. “What’s wrong, Ed, Al?”
“Winry, get back in the car,” Alphonse said, though his voice sounded strangely muffled.
Mustang’s face was cool and distant. “I’m telling you the truth, Fullmetal.”
“It isn’t true,” Ed bit out and Winry thought if he took a step closer to the colonel, Ed would hit the man. “It can’t be true.”
Mustang’s head was turned away from them, as if he didn’t want to face them to tell them what he knew. Winry moved hesitantly nearer, hearing faintly behind her the scuff of shoes on the brick street. Unfamiliar hands fell on her shoulders and Winry leaned against their weight, trying to break free. Something was happening and she refused to miss out again.
“I’m sorry,” Mustang finally said, the words laden with regret. He turned to face the brothers and Winry could see Ed trembling, his panting breath making plumes in front of his face.
“No,” Ed muttered and whirled away from the colonel, from Al, his wild eyes not quite focusing on her as he slammed his fist into the brick wall of a building.
“Brother!” Alphonse cried out as Winry said, “Ed!” Neither of them was able to move, Winry held in place by Hawkeye’s hands; Al as if he was alchemized to the filthy street. Ed fell against the wall, turning as if its brace was the only thing keeping him upright. A sickly smile cocked his mouth; his eyes strange and dark and Ed passed his hand, glove ripped from its encounter with the wall, over his face.
Alphonse turned back to the colonel, the creak of his armor loud in the tightness of the alley. “You can’t be right,” he said.
Mustang eyed him as if looking down from a height though the eye slots for Al’s armor were high above his head. “I wish I weren’t,” he said, the words dripping from him like bitter gall.
“What is it?” Winry asked desperately, feeling as if the ground pulled out from under her. Ed shuddered again, his face turning away from her. Winry tried to catch Alphonse’s gaze but his helmet lowered. Mustang turned that distant look to her and spoke words that made no sense.
Later, she remembered a sound, a sheer, choked sound that clawed its way out of her throat and Al reaching for her when she broke down, Lieutenant Hawkeye unable to keep her upright. Later, Winry remembered clutching at the greaves of Alphonse’s armor, his leather gauntlets a ghostlike weight on her shoulders. Later, she remembered Ed’s expression, his mouth turned down and eyes full of guilt and sorrow.
Now, now, she just wanted to punch a wall, too, so maybe the pain would go away.
* * *