Gains And Losses- Chapter 16: "The Value of Friendship" (Havoc x Ross)
Hey guys. Sorry it has taken so long, Life has been kicking me quite a bit lately. But I have a new beta now, and I hope that I can get back to this. I kinda know where it is going, and I am excited to get there!
This is the sixteenth chapter of the arc called "Gains and Losses". It is Havoc-centric. It is set in the mangaverse, so if you don't know what happens to Havoc around Chapter 38, then read it before you start this fic.
Title: The Value of Friendship
Author: SeaweedOtter
Beta: raychcons, my fresh meat new beta!!
Characters: Jean Havoc, Maria Ross, and the rest of the gang
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Manga Spoilers... Set in the manga, a couple years after the end of Chapter 38. Maybe AU?
Summary: There is little more important than friends to pick you up when you feel down.
Read all the chapters so far HERE!
Jean didn’t need an alarm clock to wake him up the next morning. He only got a couple hours of sleep- and even in his brief moments of slumber, he was tossing and turning. By the time Maria knocked softly on his door to wake him, he was already up and almost dressed- about ready to head to the bathroom for his morning routine.
“Come in,” he called.
“Hey, Jean,” she smiled as she walked in the door while he was finishing dressing in his favorite tight black t-shirt and a pair of black jeans. He rolled over to his dresser and grabbed a washcloth and a towel, then gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“Morning,” he replied, cheerily. “Have you called for a cab yet? I want to get going as soon as I can. I won’t be in the shower long.”
“Yes, I did.” Her smile dropped for just a moment. “I’m sorry I can’t come with you. This was short notice, and I couldn’t reschedule my appointment this morning.” As fast as it was gone, her smile reappeared. “But I want to hear all about it tonight. Over diner, okay?”
Jean grinned back at her. “You bet. And it’s alright if you can’t come. I highly doubt he’s going to tell me anything that I don’t already know. But I can dream, can’t I?”
“Of course,” she smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “Either way, I want to know what’s going on.”
“Okay.” He flashed a warm smile and took her hand, giving it a quick squeeze. After holding it for a few moments, he let go and headed towards the bathroom. He could only hope that in his excitement this morning he didn’t bleed to death shaving.
____________________________________________
A short time later, he was ready- waiting anxiously in the living room for the cab to arrive. He had tried, for a while, to read a book- but he had always found it hard to focus, and had never been a huge fan of reading. He’d always been more of a hands on kind of guy. Of course, the excitement of the last couple of days made a hard task impossible, and he gave up reading after a few pages.
Maria came out of her bedroom, lugging a couple of bags of physical therapy equipment. She halted briefly to give Jean a quick kiss on the cheek before she headed to the door. “I probably won’t be home when you get back from the doctor.” She called over her shoulder. Most likely I won’t see you off to work, either. But I’ll be here when you get home tonight. See you then.”
“Okay. Bye, Maria.”
“Bye!” She waved and closed the door behind her. Jean sighed and ran a hand through his spiky blond hair. His stomach was fluttering, and his head pounded from anxiousness and a lack of sleep.
Thankfully, it was a short wait before he heard the honk of a horn outside. When he got to the cab, he found to his relief that the drive had experience with loading and unloading wheelchairs. Jean had given himself plenty of time to get to the hospital- just in case. He’d found out the hard way once- when he had been over half an hour late to work because the cab driver almost broke his wheelchair while trying to get it in the trunk of his car.
“Where to, sir?” The driver asked after he was done loading the passenger and his chair.
“Central Hospital, please.”
“Yes, sir.”
Even though it was a short ride, it drug on mercilessly. He was anxious to know if what had happened was a fluke, or a herald of more good news to come. They finally arrived, and it didn’t take long for them to reassemble the chair with Jean’s instructions. He transferred in, left the driver a good tip, and went inside the double doors that marked the entrance to the hospital.
As he glanced at the clock on the wall, he noticed that he was almost 45 minutes early, so he went back outside and smoked his first cigarette of the morning. Jean sighed happily as the nicotine entered his system, calming his frazzled nerves and slowing his racing heartbeat.
After he had finished the cigarette, he contemplated lighting a second one, knowing that time was not a factor, but one look at his almost depleted pack made him decide to ration what he had left. The doctor’s visit was cutting into his free time, and he wasn’t sure when he was going to have enough time or energy to get back to the store for more.
Havoc let out a smoky breath and deposited his butt in the trash can, then rolled back into the waiting room and up to the front desk, where an overweight woman in a white dress and a tight brown hair bun looked up from her magazine at him with a bored, indifferent glare.
“Yes? May I help you?” She looked down over her oval glasses at him, seemingly upset that he had interrupted her reading time.
“Lieutenant Jean Havoc, here to see Doctor Huey, please.”
She grunted and looked at a piece of paper on a clipboard on the desk in front of her. “You’re early,” she noted, in a monotone. Before Jean could answer, she continued, thrusting a form on a clipboard out to him. “Fill this out. Then have a seat and wait for your name to be called.” Without missing a beat, she picked up her magazine, once again oblivious to the world around her.
“Thanks,” Jean sarcastically muttered under his breath. He put the clipboard on his lap and went to the corner- one of the few parts of the waiting room that wasn’t crowded with tiny, uncomfortable chairs, and he attempted to wade through the paperwork.
Being in the military, he had become quite used to mounds of paperwork, and it didn’t take him very long to fill out all of the pages. Still though, by the end, his wrist was aching and the noise of the waiting room made his head throb even worse. He took the clipboard back to the front desk. The lady snatched it without a word. When it was obvious that he was going to get no further directions, he went back to the corner.
“Havoc, Jean Havoc.” Not long afterwards, a nurse came out of the main door, into the quickly crowding waiting room- calling his name and looking around. He waived his arm and smiled at the pretty, dark haired young nurse and wheeled himself over.
“I’m here, ma’am. She tried to hide the surprise that he was already in a wheelchair. Jean, though, was well used to the looks that he got from people. It had stopped bothering him years ago.
“F-Follow me, please.” She stuttered as he smiled at her, trying to put her at ease. He followed her down a few long, winding corridors, getting himself thoroughly lost. She pointed to a lone open door. “In here, please. The doctor should be in soon.”
“Thanks.” He flashed a smile at her, and she blushed slightly, smiling back as she closed the door behind her. ‘Huh, it figures.’ He thought to himself. ‘You finally find someone who seems even slightly interested, and you’re already taken- kind of.’ He grinned at the irony, shrugged, and then entertained himself with the magazines in the room until the doctor came in.
“Hello there, I’m Doctor Huey.” He smiled, took a look at the blonde’s chart for a moment, and then closed the metal clipboard with a bang. “I’m going to take a look at you today. So tell me, why did you want to see me, Mr. Havoc?”
He flushed a deep red and paused for a moment before he plucked up the courage to speak. “Well, I got a little feeling back… um… somewhere, and I wasn’t sure if that meant that I may get more feeling back, or if it was just a fluke.”
The doctor gave him a wide grin. “Ah, I see,” he said, simply. “Alright, let’s take a look at what’s going on.” Jean sighed, glad that he didn’t have to elaborate any further.
__________________________________________
After close to an hour of prodding, poking, bloodletting, and questioning, the doctor came back in, reading the chart as he entered.
“Well, Mr. Havoc,” he started, looking up from his chart. “I’ve finished my exam. As far as I can tell, everything is the same as it was from your last physical. The regaining of a small bit of sensation in your extremities is just a normal part the body’s healing process. It isn’t unusual for small pockets of feeling to return below the injury site. But only in very rare occurrences does this lead to a more total return of sensation. I’m sorry, but I don’t think that you’re going to regain any more feeling in your legs.”
Jean’s face sunk, but he put on a small smile for the doctor. “Thanks, doc. I was afraid of that, but I wanted to know for sure.”
“Don’t give up hope, Jean.” He smiled, surprising Havoc by using his first name. “Medical science has come a long way, and who knows what may happen? I’ve been reading your medical history, and you’ve come a long way. You’ve even been attempting to using crutches, according to your therapist. There are a lot of paraplegics who never even get to that stage.”
“Thanks again.” Jean shook the doctor’s hand and left the room, took care of the paperwork, and then waited in the front office until a cab arrived to take him home.
__________________________________________________
Just as Maria had predicted, she wasn’t there when he got back. But it was probably just as well, he figured. He wasn’t in much of a talking mood anyways, and he barely had enough time to get dressed and ready for work before his driver honked the horn.
Jean was deathly silent on the way to work, and the same after he arrived in his office. He dreaded what he was going to tell Maria when he got home that night. He knew that she was smart enough to know that this wasn’t a miracle, but he was sure that she’d be disappointed. The blond hated to see her sad. It broke his heart to see a frown on that beautiful face.
Right before his lunch break, the Fuhrer stopped by his office to invite Jean to lunch. Mustang did it every day that he wasn’t swamped by paperwork. They both looked forward to the hour a day that they could talk and joke like they had years ago. Unfortunately, the lunch dates were getting less frequent as Mustang took on more jobs as the head of Amestris.
That day, Jean wasn’t looking forward to their lunch meeting. He had hoped that he would get the call from Hawkeye. She was the one who would call and apologize that the Fuhrer couldn’t attend. But it didn’t happen- and right on time, he showed up with a smile and an empty stomach.
“Come on, Jean. You haven’t touched your lunch, and you’ve hardly said a word. What’s the matter?” Mustang asked, after an extended period of quiet between the two men.
“Don’t worry about it. It isn’t important.” Jean grumbled, poking at an ominous looking lump of meat on his tray with the fork.
“If it’s important enough to upset you this much, then it must be something big.” Mustang got a worried look on his face. “There isn’t anything wrong with Ross, is there?”
Jean shook his head and put his fork down. “No. I wouldn’t let anything happen to her,” he said, glumly. “It’s nothing, really.”
Mustang frowned, looking deathly serious. He got up and picked up both of their trays. “You are to report to my office at precisely 1900 hours. That’s an order.” He said, sternly. Without another word, he turned on his heels and exited the lunch room.
“Why does he want to see me when I’m supposed to be going home?” Jean wondered out loud, long after Mustang had left. He shrugged his shoulders and headed back towards his office.
The afternoon drug on, and finally 1900 hours rolled around. Jean wasted no time in heading to Mustang’s office to find out what was in store for him. “He’s waiting for you.” Hawkeye pointed to the Fuhrer’s inner office door after he had let himself in.
Jean knocked at the door, rather timidly, and heard a muffled “Enter,” from the room within. He opened the massive wooden door and moved inside, saluting as he came in, and with some effort, closing the door behind him. “You wanted to see me, sir?” He asked.
Mustang returned the salute, a soft smile creeping across his face. He put down the papers that he had been studying and stood up, walking over towards Jean. “Come with me. I think we need to talk elsewhere,” he replied, simply.
“Um, okay, sir.”
The Fuhrer grabbed his long, gray greatcoat, and headed towards the exit, with Jean close behind. Hawkeye stood up and saluted as he walked past. “Have a good night, sir.” The blond didn’t miss the almost imperceptible smile that passed between the two. Despite being married, they both knew that it was all business while they were at work.
He returned the salute, his smile growing for just a moment. “Thanks, you too.” The ‘I’ll see you tonight.’ was left unsaid, hanging in the air between them. Mustang and Havoc made their way down to the motor pool, where a car was already waiting for them.
For a moment, Mustang looked serious as he walked to the driver’s side and whispered something to the driver. The young man looked confused for a brief moment. He flashed a quick look over to Jean and nodded, replying “Yes, sir.”
The two of them helped Havoc break down his chair after he transferred into the back seat. Mustang took the shotgun position, and they were off. For most of the trip, the conversation was boring. Jean was mostly distant and distracted, still wondering where they were taking him.
Eventually, they rolled to a stop in front of a bar. “Sir?” Jean asked, looking around to see if there was somewhere else close by that they had meant to stop. “I really ought to get home. I think Maria is going to have dinner waiting.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t plan on being here long.” Mustang replied, getting out of the car and whispering to the driver again, who smiled and nodded, then helped Jean back into his chair. As soon as they were out, the driver sped off.
“With all due respect, sir, I’m not sure why we’re here.” He looked around nervously as they entered the loud, smoky bar.
Mustang talked to the hostess for a moment, and they were shown to a table in the back of the bar- in a somewhat quiet spot. A chair was taken away for Jean, and a couple of beers were put down onto the table before they got the chance to order.
Let’s just relax for a few minutes. I’ll explain everything after a beer.” Mustang smiled and picked up his glass, taking a long drink. As much as he tried to hide it, Jean noticed when his faced scrunched up ever so slightly. Mustang was used to hard liquors- not cheap beer- and it took a bit of getting used to.
___________________________________________________
An hour later, Jean was well on his well to total inebriation. Mustang was not in as bad shape, although even he would admit that he was far from sober. “So- tell me,” he started, signaling a waitress for another round of drinks. “You were pretty upset earlier today. Why was that?”
Jean tried to focus his eyes on the man in front of him, but the room wouldn’t stop spinning. He put his hands on the table to steady himself. “I’m not getting better.” He said after a moment. “I thought I was, but ‘m not. No feelin’. Damn legs won’t work. Doc says no more feelin’”
It took a moment for the alchemist to decipher Jean’s drunken ramblings. “Well, I’m sorry that you didn’t get good news. But at least it isn’t getting worse,” he attempted to sound cheerful.
“’M pathetic. Half a man. Useless.”
Mustang’s face grew deadly serious. He pulled his friend close, grabbing a handful of his blue military jacket and almost tugging him out of his chair.. “Look. You’re not worthless, and you’re far from pathetic. You have a woman who cares for you, a job, an apartment, a life, and friends who look out for you. I bet most people in your position would be in a hospital permanently, or even worse. “You’ve done well.” He let Jean’s jacket go. “Come on. Let’s get you home. I’m sure she’s worried about you.”
“’Kay.” He replied, sleepily.
Mustang left to make a phone call, and a short time later, the driver arrived. For a brief moment, Jean tried to not let Mustang push him. “I’m okay!” He yelled- much louder than he had intended, making several bar patrons turn his direction. It only took a couple of uncoordinated attempts to try to make himself mobile before he gave up. “’M not okay.” He muttered, a defeated look on his face.
It took both of them to pile a drunken and mostly asleep Jean into the car, and even then he almost fell over. Eventually, they all settled in and headed back towards his apartment.
Getting him back into his chair proved to be just as awkward as getting him out. The driver waited by the car while Mustang wheeled Jean towards the apartment. By this time, the blond was snoring softly, hardly even waking up while being transferred to his chair.
The Fuhrer knocked on the door, and Maria answered a moment later. He could see the table set behind her, and the smell of food wafted towards him. Immediately her face went from worry, to relief, to confusion as she looked to Mustang- and the sleeping man in the chair.
“Hello, Ms. Ross.” He said, rather formally, trying not to slur his speech. “I’m very sorry that I kept him out late. That was not my intention. He’s a bit inebriated. He didn’t want to go, and I made him. It’s all my fault, and I apologize.”
She sighed softly, her worried face relaxing. “I’m just glad he’s okay. I was worried.” She looked down at him, a smile growing on her face. “He’s cute when he’s asleep.” She thought out loud. Immediately her cheeks flushed a little. “Let’s get him to bed.”
It took both of them a while to get him into bed and partially undressed. When they were done, they retired back to the living room. Maria offered him some coffee, but he politely declined and started to head towards the front door.
“I should be getting home as well. I’m sure that Riza is wondering where I am.” Maria smiled. It was the first time she had ever heard him use her first name. She knew they were married- Jean had done a good job of getting her caught up on her former comrades- but they were always so serious. It was nice to see the warmth that came to Mustang’s face when he talked about her, even just saying her name.
“Goodnight, Ms. Ross. I’m sorry about this. I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m sure he’ll explain everything in the morning. Good night.” He saluted. Even though she wasn’t a solider any more, she appreciated the sign of respect, and returned the salute.
“Good night, sir.” She smiled and closed the door, then looked sadly at the table and started to put the mostly uneaten food away.
This is the sixteenth chapter of the arc called "Gains and Losses". It is Havoc-centric. It is set in the mangaverse, so if you don't know what happens to Havoc around Chapter 38, then read it before you start this fic.
Title: The Value of Friendship
Author: SeaweedOtter
Beta: raychcons, my fresh meat new beta!!
Characters: Jean Havoc, Maria Ross, and the rest of the gang
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Manga Spoilers... Set in the manga, a couple years after the end of Chapter 38. Maybe AU?
Summary: There is little more important than friends to pick you up when you feel down.
Read all the chapters so far HERE!
Jean didn’t need an alarm clock to wake him up the next morning. He only got a couple hours of sleep- and even in his brief moments of slumber, he was tossing and turning. By the time Maria knocked softly on his door to wake him, he was already up and almost dressed- about ready to head to the bathroom for his morning routine.
“Come in,” he called.
“Hey, Jean,” she smiled as she walked in the door while he was finishing dressing in his favorite tight black t-shirt and a pair of black jeans. He rolled over to his dresser and grabbed a washcloth and a towel, then gave her a kiss on the cheek.
“Morning,” he replied, cheerily. “Have you called for a cab yet? I want to get going as soon as I can. I won’t be in the shower long.”
“Yes, I did.” Her smile dropped for just a moment. “I’m sorry I can’t come with you. This was short notice, and I couldn’t reschedule my appointment this morning.” As fast as it was gone, her smile reappeared. “But I want to hear all about it tonight. Over diner, okay?”
Jean grinned back at her. “You bet. And it’s alright if you can’t come. I highly doubt he’s going to tell me anything that I don’t already know. But I can dream, can’t I?”
“Of course,” she smiled and patted him on the shoulder. “Either way, I want to know what’s going on.”
“Okay.” He flashed a warm smile and took her hand, giving it a quick squeeze. After holding it for a few moments, he let go and headed towards the bathroom. He could only hope that in his excitement this morning he didn’t bleed to death shaving.
____________________________________________
A short time later, he was ready- waiting anxiously in the living room for the cab to arrive. He had tried, for a while, to read a book- but he had always found it hard to focus, and had never been a huge fan of reading. He’d always been more of a hands on kind of guy. Of course, the excitement of the last couple of days made a hard task impossible, and he gave up reading after a few pages.
Maria came out of her bedroom, lugging a couple of bags of physical therapy equipment. She halted briefly to give Jean a quick kiss on the cheek before she headed to the door. “I probably won’t be home when you get back from the doctor.” She called over her shoulder. Most likely I won’t see you off to work, either. But I’ll be here when you get home tonight. See you then.”
“Okay. Bye, Maria.”
“Bye!” She waved and closed the door behind her. Jean sighed and ran a hand through his spiky blond hair. His stomach was fluttering, and his head pounded from anxiousness and a lack of sleep.
Thankfully, it was a short wait before he heard the honk of a horn outside. When he got to the cab, he found to his relief that the drive had experience with loading and unloading wheelchairs. Jean had given himself plenty of time to get to the hospital- just in case. He’d found out the hard way once- when he had been over half an hour late to work because the cab driver almost broke his wheelchair while trying to get it in the trunk of his car.
“Where to, sir?” The driver asked after he was done loading the passenger and his chair.
“Central Hospital, please.”
“Yes, sir.”
Even though it was a short ride, it drug on mercilessly. He was anxious to know if what had happened was a fluke, or a herald of more good news to come. They finally arrived, and it didn’t take long for them to reassemble the chair with Jean’s instructions. He transferred in, left the driver a good tip, and went inside the double doors that marked the entrance to the hospital.
As he glanced at the clock on the wall, he noticed that he was almost 45 minutes early, so he went back outside and smoked his first cigarette of the morning. Jean sighed happily as the nicotine entered his system, calming his frazzled nerves and slowing his racing heartbeat.
After he had finished the cigarette, he contemplated lighting a second one, knowing that time was not a factor, but one look at his almost depleted pack made him decide to ration what he had left. The doctor’s visit was cutting into his free time, and he wasn’t sure when he was going to have enough time or energy to get back to the store for more.
Havoc let out a smoky breath and deposited his butt in the trash can, then rolled back into the waiting room and up to the front desk, where an overweight woman in a white dress and a tight brown hair bun looked up from her magazine at him with a bored, indifferent glare.
“Yes? May I help you?” She looked down over her oval glasses at him, seemingly upset that he had interrupted her reading time.
“Lieutenant Jean Havoc, here to see Doctor Huey, please.”
She grunted and looked at a piece of paper on a clipboard on the desk in front of her. “You’re early,” she noted, in a monotone. Before Jean could answer, she continued, thrusting a form on a clipboard out to him. “Fill this out. Then have a seat and wait for your name to be called.” Without missing a beat, she picked up her magazine, once again oblivious to the world around her.
“Thanks,” Jean sarcastically muttered under his breath. He put the clipboard on his lap and went to the corner- one of the few parts of the waiting room that wasn’t crowded with tiny, uncomfortable chairs, and he attempted to wade through the paperwork.
Being in the military, he had become quite used to mounds of paperwork, and it didn’t take him very long to fill out all of the pages. Still though, by the end, his wrist was aching and the noise of the waiting room made his head throb even worse. He took the clipboard back to the front desk. The lady snatched it without a word. When it was obvious that he was going to get no further directions, he went back to the corner.
“Havoc, Jean Havoc.” Not long afterwards, a nurse came out of the main door, into the quickly crowding waiting room- calling his name and looking around. He waived his arm and smiled at the pretty, dark haired young nurse and wheeled himself over.
“I’m here, ma’am. She tried to hide the surprise that he was already in a wheelchair. Jean, though, was well used to the looks that he got from people. It had stopped bothering him years ago.
“F-Follow me, please.” She stuttered as he smiled at her, trying to put her at ease. He followed her down a few long, winding corridors, getting himself thoroughly lost. She pointed to a lone open door. “In here, please. The doctor should be in soon.”
“Thanks.” He flashed a smile at her, and she blushed slightly, smiling back as she closed the door behind her. ‘Huh, it figures.’ He thought to himself. ‘You finally find someone who seems even slightly interested, and you’re already taken- kind of.’ He grinned at the irony, shrugged, and then entertained himself with the magazines in the room until the doctor came in.
“Hello there, I’m Doctor Huey.” He smiled, took a look at the blonde’s chart for a moment, and then closed the metal clipboard with a bang. “I’m going to take a look at you today. So tell me, why did you want to see me, Mr. Havoc?”
He flushed a deep red and paused for a moment before he plucked up the courage to speak. “Well, I got a little feeling back… um… somewhere, and I wasn’t sure if that meant that I may get more feeling back, or if it was just a fluke.”
The doctor gave him a wide grin. “Ah, I see,” he said, simply. “Alright, let’s take a look at what’s going on.” Jean sighed, glad that he didn’t have to elaborate any further.
__________________________________________
After close to an hour of prodding, poking, bloodletting, and questioning, the doctor came back in, reading the chart as he entered.
“Well, Mr. Havoc,” he started, looking up from his chart. “I’ve finished my exam. As far as I can tell, everything is the same as it was from your last physical. The regaining of a small bit of sensation in your extremities is just a normal part the body’s healing process. It isn’t unusual for small pockets of feeling to return below the injury site. But only in very rare occurrences does this lead to a more total return of sensation. I’m sorry, but I don’t think that you’re going to regain any more feeling in your legs.”
Jean’s face sunk, but he put on a small smile for the doctor. “Thanks, doc. I was afraid of that, but I wanted to know for sure.”
“Don’t give up hope, Jean.” He smiled, surprising Havoc by using his first name. “Medical science has come a long way, and who knows what may happen? I’ve been reading your medical history, and you’ve come a long way. You’ve even been attempting to using crutches, according to your therapist. There are a lot of paraplegics who never even get to that stage.”
“Thanks again.” Jean shook the doctor’s hand and left the room, took care of the paperwork, and then waited in the front office until a cab arrived to take him home.
__________________________________________________
Just as Maria had predicted, she wasn’t there when he got back. But it was probably just as well, he figured. He wasn’t in much of a talking mood anyways, and he barely had enough time to get dressed and ready for work before his driver honked the horn.
Jean was deathly silent on the way to work, and the same after he arrived in his office. He dreaded what he was going to tell Maria when he got home that night. He knew that she was smart enough to know that this wasn’t a miracle, but he was sure that she’d be disappointed. The blond hated to see her sad. It broke his heart to see a frown on that beautiful face.
Right before his lunch break, the Fuhrer stopped by his office to invite Jean to lunch. Mustang did it every day that he wasn’t swamped by paperwork. They both looked forward to the hour a day that they could talk and joke like they had years ago. Unfortunately, the lunch dates were getting less frequent as Mustang took on more jobs as the head of Amestris.
That day, Jean wasn’t looking forward to their lunch meeting. He had hoped that he would get the call from Hawkeye. She was the one who would call and apologize that the Fuhrer couldn’t attend. But it didn’t happen- and right on time, he showed up with a smile and an empty stomach.
“Come on, Jean. You haven’t touched your lunch, and you’ve hardly said a word. What’s the matter?” Mustang asked, after an extended period of quiet between the two men.
“Don’t worry about it. It isn’t important.” Jean grumbled, poking at an ominous looking lump of meat on his tray with the fork.
“If it’s important enough to upset you this much, then it must be something big.” Mustang got a worried look on his face. “There isn’t anything wrong with Ross, is there?”
Jean shook his head and put his fork down. “No. I wouldn’t let anything happen to her,” he said, glumly. “It’s nothing, really.”
Mustang frowned, looking deathly serious. He got up and picked up both of their trays. “You are to report to my office at precisely 1900 hours. That’s an order.” He said, sternly. Without another word, he turned on his heels and exited the lunch room.
“Why does he want to see me when I’m supposed to be going home?” Jean wondered out loud, long after Mustang had left. He shrugged his shoulders and headed back towards his office.
The afternoon drug on, and finally 1900 hours rolled around. Jean wasted no time in heading to Mustang’s office to find out what was in store for him. “He’s waiting for you.” Hawkeye pointed to the Fuhrer’s inner office door after he had let himself in.
Jean knocked at the door, rather timidly, and heard a muffled “Enter,” from the room within. He opened the massive wooden door and moved inside, saluting as he came in, and with some effort, closing the door behind him. “You wanted to see me, sir?” He asked.
Mustang returned the salute, a soft smile creeping across his face. He put down the papers that he had been studying and stood up, walking over towards Jean. “Come with me. I think we need to talk elsewhere,” he replied, simply.
“Um, okay, sir.”
The Fuhrer grabbed his long, gray greatcoat, and headed towards the exit, with Jean close behind. Hawkeye stood up and saluted as he walked past. “Have a good night, sir.” The blond didn’t miss the almost imperceptible smile that passed between the two. Despite being married, they both knew that it was all business while they were at work.
He returned the salute, his smile growing for just a moment. “Thanks, you too.” The ‘I’ll see you tonight.’ was left unsaid, hanging in the air between them. Mustang and Havoc made their way down to the motor pool, where a car was already waiting for them.
For a moment, Mustang looked serious as he walked to the driver’s side and whispered something to the driver. The young man looked confused for a brief moment. He flashed a quick look over to Jean and nodded, replying “Yes, sir.”
The two of them helped Havoc break down his chair after he transferred into the back seat. Mustang took the shotgun position, and they were off. For most of the trip, the conversation was boring. Jean was mostly distant and distracted, still wondering where they were taking him.
Eventually, they rolled to a stop in front of a bar. “Sir?” Jean asked, looking around to see if there was somewhere else close by that they had meant to stop. “I really ought to get home. I think Maria is going to have dinner waiting.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t plan on being here long.” Mustang replied, getting out of the car and whispering to the driver again, who smiled and nodded, then helped Jean back into his chair. As soon as they were out, the driver sped off.
“With all due respect, sir, I’m not sure why we’re here.” He looked around nervously as they entered the loud, smoky bar.
Mustang talked to the hostess for a moment, and they were shown to a table in the back of the bar- in a somewhat quiet spot. A chair was taken away for Jean, and a couple of beers were put down onto the table before they got the chance to order.
Let’s just relax for a few minutes. I’ll explain everything after a beer.” Mustang smiled and picked up his glass, taking a long drink. As much as he tried to hide it, Jean noticed when his faced scrunched up ever so slightly. Mustang was used to hard liquors- not cheap beer- and it took a bit of getting used to.
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An hour later, Jean was well on his well to total inebriation. Mustang was not in as bad shape, although even he would admit that he was far from sober. “So- tell me,” he started, signaling a waitress for another round of drinks. “You were pretty upset earlier today. Why was that?”
Jean tried to focus his eyes on the man in front of him, but the room wouldn’t stop spinning. He put his hands on the table to steady himself. “I’m not getting better.” He said after a moment. “I thought I was, but ‘m not. No feelin’. Damn legs won’t work. Doc says no more feelin’”
It took a moment for the alchemist to decipher Jean’s drunken ramblings. “Well, I’m sorry that you didn’t get good news. But at least it isn’t getting worse,” he attempted to sound cheerful.
“’M pathetic. Half a man. Useless.”
Mustang’s face grew deadly serious. He pulled his friend close, grabbing a handful of his blue military jacket and almost tugging him out of his chair.. “Look. You’re not worthless, and you’re far from pathetic. You have a woman who cares for you, a job, an apartment, a life, and friends who look out for you. I bet most people in your position would be in a hospital permanently, or even worse. “You’ve done well.” He let Jean’s jacket go. “Come on. Let’s get you home. I’m sure she’s worried about you.”
“’Kay.” He replied, sleepily.
Mustang left to make a phone call, and a short time later, the driver arrived. For a brief moment, Jean tried to not let Mustang push him. “I’m okay!” He yelled- much louder than he had intended, making several bar patrons turn his direction. It only took a couple of uncoordinated attempts to try to make himself mobile before he gave up. “’M not okay.” He muttered, a defeated look on his face.
It took both of them to pile a drunken and mostly asleep Jean into the car, and even then he almost fell over. Eventually, they all settled in and headed back towards his apartment.
Getting him back into his chair proved to be just as awkward as getting him out. The driver waited by the car while Mustang wheeled Jean towards the apartment. By this time, the blond was snoring softly, hardly even waking up while being transferred to his chair.
The Fuhrer knocked on the door, and Maria answered a moment later. He could see the table set behind her, and the smell of food wafted towards him. Immediately her face went from worry, to relief, to confusion as she looked to Mustang- and the sleeping man in the chair.
“Hello, Ms. Ross.” He said, rather formally, trying not to slur his speech. “I’m very sorry that I kept him out late. That was not my intention. He’s a bit inebriated. He didn’t want to go, and I made him. It’s all my fault, and I apologize.”
She sighed softly, her worried face relaxing. “I’m just glad he’s okay. I was worried.” She looked down at him, a smile growing on her face. “He’s cute when he’s asleep.” She thought out loud. Immediately her cheeks flushed a little. “Let’s get him to bed.”
It took both of them a while to get him into bed and partially undressed. When they were done, they retired back to the living room. Maria offered him some coffee, but he politely declined and started to head towards the front door.
“I should be getting home as well. I’m sure that Riza is wondering where I am.” Maria smiled. It was the first time she had ever heard him use her first name. She knew they were married- Jean had done a good job of getting her caught up on her former comrades- but they were always so serious. It was nice to see the warmth that came to Mustang’s face when he talked about her, even just saying her name.
“Goodnight, Ms. Ross. I’m sorry about this. I didn’t mean to worry you. I’m sure he’ll explain everything in the morning. Good night.” He saluted. Even though she wasn’t a solider any more, she appreciated the sign of respect, and returned the salute.
“Good night, sir.” She smiled and closed the door, then looked sadly at the table and started to put the mostly uneaten food away.