Nightmare Chapter 16
“Holy fuck!” Ed yelled, right hand gripping and mangling the metal bar of his bed. His brother could only watch anxiously from the side. He’d have taken the left hand if it wasn’t still in the small cast or at least rubbed over Ed’s hair or head to comfort him if the elder Elric would have let him. Holding the right hand wasn’t an option as Al didn’t want his hand to suffer the same fate of the metal bar on the bed.
Instead, Al could only watch as the diminutive older woman tested the last of the nodes for Ed’s automail leg.
“You’re more of a sadist than Winry!” Ed spat. “Why isn’t she here?”
“Had to go visit a client in Rush Valley,” Pinako lied as she made an adjustment that had Ed cursing again. Al knew she was lying because he knew why Winry had gone, or at least had the vaguest idea of it. From what he’d picked up in talking with his father, Winry suspected there was information she could get in the automail mecca that could help with the cases facing Al, Roy and Riza.
“What client is more important than me?” Ed asked, breathing heavily as he was coming down from the pain.
Pinako just shook her head, tsking. “Perhaps one who isn’t a miniscule shrimp.”
Al shook his head as Ed flew off the handle, calling Pinako every reference for short and old that he could think of. Sometimes, their adoptive aunt amazed Al, being so capable of talking normally to Ed, despite everything he’d been through. He could tell her words were carefully chosen, at least so that she didn’t say anything that might really hurt Ed unintentionally. To the untrained ear, and probably even Ed’s, it sounded as though she was giving him all she had, and that kind of normalcy was something Ed craved, Al was learning.
“All done,” the woman said. She reached into a pocket and handed Ed some pills. “These’ll help with the pain,” she told him.
Ed looked down at the pills in his automail hand then up at Pinako, doubtfully.
“I thought I couldn’t have painkillers when I have them put in,” Ed said.
“Well, that’s the first time around,” Pinako said with ease, but Al thought the same as Ed, that the nodes worked better without the painkillers.
“Could have given these things to me earlier, then,” Ed said as he popped them into his mouth.
“Listen,” Pinako said, patting his hand. “You’re going to need rest. I’ll leave you alone for now.”
Ed closed his eyes as both Al and Pinako left the room, leaving him to sleep, if he could after all the pain.
“Well, hopefully, those will knock him out,” Pinako said once they were outside of hearing distance from the door. “His doctor thought they would.”
“So, they won’t hinder the healing?” Al asked.
“Well, they might,” Pinako admitted, “but I don’t see your brother getting back into the military after all this. Besides that, he deserves a little rest and time without pain. The most important part where there be no pain killers is already done.”
Al nodded, but wondered what Ed would think about the woman making that decision for him. He wondered what Winry would say and shuddered at that.
“You can have a look,” the doctor said, holding up a small handheld mirror. “It isn’t a perfect match yet, but they just don’t make them Xingian black here in Amestris. This is a very, very dark brown, though.”
“I saw it when you showed it to me. I know what color it is,” Roy snapped a bit too quickly. He dared a quick glance up to the mirror and was nearly sick. A dark chocolate brown eye stared at him beneath his scarred eyelid. It moved, but not as much as his real one. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it didn’t stop it from feeling any less wrong.
“We can order one for you once you’re out from house arrest,” the doctor said. Roy wasn’t sure whether he wanted to thank the man or hit him for saying when, rather than if Roy would be out.
“Thanks,” he managed, wishing he couldn’t see Riza watching him carefully out of the corner of his real eye.
The doctor smiled and nodded, leaving Roy where he was on the bed, fumbling for the black piece of cloth the doctor told the military man was an option if he really didn't like the eye. In his mind, there was no option. He had no desire for the large scar to be seen by everyone in the general public, or even the not so general public. He would suffer the scar if the eye actually worked, but there was no reason to have the ghastly scar exposed if the eye wasn’t even real. Hell, it didn’t even match.
He was in the middle of tying the large patch to his head when he saw Riza looking up at him. She was giving him one of those looks, the kind that said she doubted what he was doing at the moment, but she wasn’t going to outright criticize him. It was better if she didn’t because Roy certainly wasn’t in the mood for it.
“Do you want to come downstairs, Roy?” she asked. “I can hear Al puttering in the kitchen. He’s learned a few recipes from me, so it should be more edible than the last few times he cooked.”
“You and Al spend a lot of time around one another, don’t you?” Roy asked, still not sure if he wanted to move from his bed and downstairs where Pinako Rockbell would be. He knew that everyone was aware he’d been the one to fire the bullet that killed the woman’s son and daughter-in-law, but that didn’t make it any easier to face her.
“Asking about Al to stall from going downstairs to get food you need isn’t going to work, sir,” Riza said, her tone gone completely military at that moment.
Roy sighed and shifted in his bed. “And nagging me about going downstairs isn’t going to stop me from asking about you and Al. What is going on?”
“Absolutely nothing, Roy,” she said.
He shook his head. “You’re a terrible liar, Riza,” he said. “He’s become a handsome young man who can’t seem to stop staring at you.” She glared at him. “And I’ve caught you blushing once or twice.” He smiled, glad to have this opportunity to tease her, not to mention distract him from his issues over the eye now underneath the patch.
“Hardly, Roy,” she said, folding her arms across her chest defensively. “He’s nineteen biologically, fifteen chronologically, with the experience of a ten-year-old. None of those are ages I’m interested in being with, thank you very much.”
“Let me tell you something, Riza, with the Elrics, no matter how much the brain and heart argue, the heart always wins.” He slid from the bed and headed downstairs. “Well, at least this feels better than bulky white bandages.”
He made his way slowly down the stairs, looking around for Pinako and feeling somewhat relieved not to find her. The brigadier general was slow in making his way to the kitchen, body still aching, even if he was nearly recovered. He saw Al was at the counter making grilled cheese sandwiches.
“Hello, Al,” Roy said.
“There’s tomato soup and grilled cheese. Anything else you need?” the teen asked.
“No, thank you,” Roy replied. He couldn’t help but notice that Al’s attitude toward him had changed slightly. A lot of things about the young man had, it seemed, as he was now treating Ed much more like he did when he was in the suit of armor, probably before that even, but Roy had no memories to draw from prior to their attempt to bring their mother back from the dead.
Al made Roy a bowl of soup and handed him a grilled cheese, taking just a moment to glance at the patch.
“I talked to my father,” the young man said. “He said Winry’s found out some interesting things about the lawyer in our cases. Lieutenant Breda said he’s not above a little blackmail if it gets us off scot free.” Al smiled at him, and Roy was genuinely grateful that after all of the bitterness he’d received from the younger brother, Al seemed to be coming to terms with whatever relationship Roy had with Ed.
Mentally, Roy kicked himself for referring to what he had with Ed as a relationship because of the many connotations that single word had. Friendship might be better suited to where things stood now, but that word, no matter how true it was, didn’t seem to feel strong enough. Not for how he felt.
“Roy,” he heard Al say, “did you need anything else?”
The brigadier general shook his head. “Sorry. Got lost in thought.”
“Must not have been very pleasant. You were frowning.” Al smiled and went back to cooking. It was frightening to think that this young man who seemed to be able to read people so well might very well become a single unit, if Riza would recognize the looks he saw her giving the teen.
It didn’t hurt that it would make him feel somewhat less of a pervert for harboring whatever feelings he had for Ed.
“So did you think you were hiding from me upstairs?” a voice asked him, and Roy visibly cringed. There was Pinako Rockbell, eating at his dining room table, giving him a decidedly stern look.
“I was getting fitted for a glass eye,” he said honestly. Some people would have been abashed by the comment, but instead, she held her ground, eating another piece of the grilled cheese.
“You still don’t look happy to see me,” she said.
Was he supposed to? Roy really didn’t think so. It wasn’t as though he had parties with the survivors of Ishbal, so why would this be different.
“Ed’s going to get his leg back, I thought that would make a ladder-climber like you happy,” she said.
“It makes no difference to my career. I have no intention of putting him back in the field. He would have to strongly persuade me to do so,” Roy said, sitting down at the head of the table.
“Good,” she said, looking satisfied with his answer. “Though I’d prefer he wouldn’t be able to persuade you at all.”
Roy nodded and began to eat.
“I heard what you did for him,” she said. “You’ve done a lot for him, even if the rest of the world can’t see it, but I know you saved him. Thank you for that. He’s like a grandson to me.”
“Anyone would have done it,” Roy said.
“Take down the fuhrer and begin a revolution? Not likely,” the woman said. She leaned back in her chair. “I may not understand the military or why you take orders, but I know you have to do it. I also know that it takes a hell of a lot more courage to see that something is wrong and to go about changing it. You did what was expected before.” Unspoken were the words, when you killed my family. “You did what was needed now.”
Roy looked up and saw a very determined look on the woman’s face. Looking at her and thinking of the dinner a few nights back with Olivier Armstrong, he thought the two women would get along well.
The rest of their meal was spent in silence. He was forgiven, as much as he probably ever would be, by the woman and she was grateful he’d saved Ed. That was enough, more than he thought he really deserved.
“Is Ed awake?” he asked finally as he finished, hoping that one of the three people now at the table with him could answer.
“He’ll be out for a while,” Pinako said. “What I did took a lot out of him, but the painkillers probably finished him off.”
Roy gave a nod and excused himself from the table. He stood and put his dishes in the sink, grimacing at the idea that he was now capable of helping out with the chores around the house. He wouldn’t be able to relegate the work to Al or Riza, and his maid wasn’t likely to come while he was under house arrest. He wasn’t known as lazy without good reason; he hated menial tasks.
The brigadier general walked from the kitchen and out into the main hall, heading to Ed’s room, which would forever be Ed’s room in his mind because it was a place far more interesting with the teen there than it was with dusty, dank books.
He slowly turned the doorknob and walked into the room, just to check on Ed.
The blond was lying on the bed, the bangs that were now the longest part of his hair were matted to his forehead. His face looked somewhat pained at the moment, despite the drugs. Roy made his way over to the teen’s bedside and gently brushed aside the damp pieces of hair. The young man’s face relaxed, even moved slightly into his touch. That simple, unconscious act on Ed’s part made Roy feel a bit too warm inside. Unfortunately for the older man, those little butterflies and warm feelings were what was making him consider something incredibly stupid, not to mention detrimental to his health if he got caught.
As the rational part of his mind shut down completely, Roy leaned down and pressed his lips to the teen’s. It was quick, partly because Roy didn’t want to wake him, partly because the rational part of his mind turned on quickly and said it was a horrible idea.
Roy put his hands to his lips, trying not to think about the way Ed’s chapped ones felt against his, how he wished they’d been more responsive, how he’d felt the tiniest twitch in them as they touched his own.
Panicked, he left the room as quickly, yet silently as possible.
Heymans Breda had his arms folded across his chest as he looked up at Anton de Havilland defiantly. The man’s cool blue eyes were glaring down at Heymans, and the redhead wasn’t giving an inch. Anton was being entirely irrational, insisting that Havoc or someone else had removed evidence, or tampered with it.
“I am telling you that if anything was removed, a copy of it was made,” Heymans said, glaring at Anton. “You have the original or a duplicate of all of the forms and files inside.”
“I refuse to believe it,” Anton said.
There was something in the other man’s eyes, but Heymans couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. Still he took a guess it had something to do with what Winry told Hohenheim a few days ago.
“Are you looking for a pardon for someone special?” Heymans asked. “Maybe for yourself?”
“Why would I need a pardon?” Anton asked, his face not giving anything away. Even that slightest glimmer that had been there was now gone.
“Why are you so sure something must be missing from the files that held pardons for some of the fuhrer’s closest and highest profile people? Have you possibly done something pardonable? At least, by the old administration?”
“If I find that a single file is missing, Heymans, I swear to you that you will regret it,” Anton said as he turned on his heel and walked out of the room.
Heymans shook his head and looked over his shoulder at Hohenheim. “And people wonder why he wasn’t able to convince me to enter the state’s law program.”
“I’m sure he managed to convince several others,” Hohenheim said. “He represents just about everything that a successful lawyer should. But, if Dante found him first as I suspect she did, then he had to sell his soul to get it.”
The certainty in the other man’s voice, combined with the sheer age and wisdom in it, made Heymans shudder. He could not help but look at the older man, eyes searching, but not really knowing for what.
“Every day I am grateful that it was your commanding officer that discovered my sons and not Dante,” he said. “With the drive that Edward is known for, he would not have passed up the opportunity to fix Alphonse, regardless of the cost. And if there was any hesitation, she would have broken him until he no longer cared.”
Heymans looked back to the closed door, trying to picture the boss behaving like Anton. It was something he couldn’t and didn’t want to visualize.
Anton walked through Central, the words half-sung by Wrath running round his head.
“Trust me, I know you’re looking for your own pardon, and you aren’t going to find it.”
There was no pardon for him. He’d always hoped the thing existed. It was only a matter of time until one of the laundry list of activities he participated in under the guidance of the fuhrer came to light. If there was a pardon, then it wouldn’t have mattered. He’d been counting on its existence because in the end, eliminating the fuhrer and being pardoned for his crimes while serving him were the only options left for Anton.
After Lab 5 was broken into by the Elric brothers, Anton had been walking on thin ice. Just the slightest misstep and he knew he’d be laid upon the alter as a sacrifice for Dante’s plans. He had been the loyal dog until that point, obedient and never making a mistake. But when Lab 5 was broken into, when Envy hadn’t been capable of protecting it, when the guards Anton himself had created were not able to stand up to the Elrics, the disguised alchemist knew it was just a matter of time before he was disposed of.
It had been apparent to Anton that once Dante had the Philosopher’s Stone, which Alphonse Elric had been hand-delivering to her, Anton’s life would be pointless. If Alphonse and the man that Anton just saw with Heymans had managed to defeat Dante, he would still be as good as dead by the fuhrer’s hands. Pride had always followed the lead of his creator. He knew no matter what happened below central, Pride had to die, and to that end, he had done his part to eliminate the ever-loyal homunculus.
He’d knocked out the soldiers standing guard with alchemy they didn’t expect from the lawyer, giving Mustang easy access. Anton had even spoken to Selim, convincing him that his dad would want his most important item with him at the house. He hadn’t expected the boy to bring it back personally. Selim Bradley’s death was his fault, and he knew it. He’d just wanted the boy to keep it somewhere in the house, somewhere it could burn and in turn kill Pride. Instead, the boy had handed it to an infuriated homunculus who now only cared about his own survival.
And now, he was waiting for the other shoe to fall.
Anton de Havilland knew he was a condemned man walking free among the rest of society. It was just a matter of time until everyone else realized it as well.
Ed was fighting the exhaustion from the pain as he was still contemplating what Roy had done to him. Why the hell had the man kissed him? Why did he do it when Ed was asleep? Did he know Ed wasn’t entirely asleep?
“Asshole,” Ed muttered. He was confused, more than before, and he just didn’t need it right now.
“I hope you’re talking about someone else,” a smooth voice said from the doorway.
Ed started at the sound and looked up at the owner. “No, I wasn’t,” Ed said, fighting the heat that was slowly fading into his face. He thought he could go about this in a roundabout way, but he was feeling more and more like his old self-strange twisting in his stomach when Roy was around aside-he was just going to be blunt about it. “What the hell was that earlier?”
Roy was now the one turning pink. “Earlier? I didn’t get to talk to you before Pinako saw you.”
“This didn’t involve talking, bastard,” Ed said, glaring up at him. “You kissed me. Why? Was it out of pity? Were you trying to convince me to testify for you? Because I’ve already agreed to do that, and I’m not going to break my word. Were you just trying to mess with me? What was it?”
“I… I thought you were asleep,” Roy said.
“Pain makes me exhausted, not dead to the world,” Ed said. He was angry, not just at Roy, but also at Pinako for giving him those damned pills earlier.
“You’d had painkillers,” he said.
“I didn’t take them,” Ed said. “They mess with recovery, and I want to be back to my old self as soon as I can, pain or not. So no, I wasn’t sound asleep.” Then a thought struck Ed that made slight fear choke his throat. He knew it couldn’t be the case, but the mere thought of it was scary. He’d let Roy in. What if… “Why would you kiss someone you thought was asleep? It’s like taking advantage of them.”
He’d been taken when he’d been nearly drugged, woken with the feeling of Pride ramming into him dry. He slept against a wall when he could, to at least have the warning of being pulled away from it before he felt that pain.
“… would never.” There were arms around him now. A cinnamony, musky scent filling his nostrils. “Ed, never.”
He looked up at the dark-haired man, saying nothing as his eyes scanned over the face and the black patch. “Why?” Ed finally, after what felt like an eternity, managed to croak out.
“Because I’m not brave enough to do it when you’re awake,” Roy said.
Ed frowned because his brain at the moment felt incapable of computing that single sentence. It was just eleven words spoken in the language he knew, but it could have been ancient Xingian for all he cared at the moment. It simply made no sense. Those words implied that Roy somehow wanted to kiss him. That maybe the playboy of Central and Eastern Command was thinking of Ed in a way that heterosexual, woman-killer bachelors just didn’t do.
“I’m sorry,” Roy said. He was still pink. Why was a man who exuded confidence that danced all over the fine line to arrogance blushing because of Ed? “I shouldn’t have… I... We’ve become friends now, and you trusted me-”
Ed leaned up and pressed his lips to Roy’s, then fell back against the bed, his leg screaming its opposition of his movement. “Equivalent exchange,” he said, noticing the fact that he could taste Roy on his lips; he hadn’t even known Roy had a taste. “Just so you don’t go on a guilt trip on me.”
He looked at Roy’s shocked expression as he tried to stop the nervous trembling in his own body, wondering where the courage he’d been so sure was gone and resurfaced from.
“What is it?” Olivier asked as she looked up from her desk. She and Jean had been going over the details of her speech to the generals’ council. She felt she was guaranteed the position of fuhrer, but didn’t want to jinx it just yet. She looked at the little man with his hands nervously fumbling with a piece of paper.
“I’m Gustav Messerschmitt,” the man said as he slowly entered the room. The squat man appeared nervous, yet pleased with himself. To Olivier, he looked a bit like the cat that ate the canary, plump and smug, yet afraid of getting in trouble for it.
“And?” she asked.
“I have information regarding the head of the JAG department,” he said. “As head of the law department, I think it is wrong that Anton de Havilland was involved in questionable activities prior to heading the department.”
Olivier was careful to school her features not to reveal any interest in what the man was offering them, and currently had the sword she carried on her at all times pushed down into Jean’s leg to ensure he did the same.
“Are you telling us you are doing this out of the goodness of your heart?” she asked, knowing it would certainly be otherwise.
“I am hoping that transgressions I did during the previous administration will not reflect back upon my future career,” he said. He walked closer to the desk. “After all, you can see in this the character of my direct supervisor.”
Olivier held out her hand, her face making it clear this was a demand, not a request for the information. As the paper was placed into her hand, she flattened it onto her desk. The man across from her had crumpled the thing up quite a bit it seemed.
“Lab 5,” Jean whispered in her ear as he leaned over her shoulder.
She saw the name too. Coming from the north, she would not have been so aware of the connotations of the lab, but her lover and secretary-a winning combination in her humble opinion-had told her most of the Elrics’ escapades, including this one.
The memo involved both de Havilland and the fuhrer, discussing something with Lab 5. The connotations of this single sheet of paper meant they could arrest the man, if they could prove him an alchemist. No one else would pursue the trial, and they would have won.
“Thank you for bringing this by,” she said, handing the vital paper to Jean.
“What can you guarantee me with it?” Messerschmitt asked. “I have been seeking the position of head of the department, and I’d hope-”
“This piece of paper guarantees we don’t execute you for what your colleagues have already turned in on you,” Olivier said with a smile. “I think head of a department is a lofty idea for someone who was siphoning off of funds for their department’s pro bono work, or the fact that your competition for second in command suffered a rather suspicious accident that wasn’t quite an accident. All the evidence in that case managed to disappear as well, though one print was uncovered recently. Strangely enough, it matched yours. If I were you, I would be grateful that the guards waiting for you will not be taking you to your death thanks to this little piece of paper.”
Jean walked by Messerschmitt and asked the guards outside to do exactly as Olivier had just ordered. The information she’d just received was fantastic, but she wasn’t going to reward someone for being a rat, both before and after the death of the previous fuhrer.