Friendships Renewed (Gains and Losses, Chapter 1) RE-DO.
Well, here we go, my little epic that is still being worked on. But right now, I am hoping to go back, at least through the first few chapters, and re-do them, now that I (hopefully) know a little more about fanfiction.
This is the first chapter of the arc called "Gains and Losses". It’s Havoc-centric. It’s set in the mangaverse, so it has spoilers for what happens to him in Chapter 38.
Title: Friendships Renewed (Gains and Losses, Chapter 1)
Author: SeaweedOtter
Characters: Jean Havoc and friends
Rating: PG for a little language
Disclaimer: Manga Spoilers... Set years after chapter 38. Definitely AU.
Summary: Jean didn't need the constant reminders of how much he’d lost.
Read all the chapters so far HERE!
In the time since Fuhrer Bradley had been thrown from power, Amestris had been unstable, to say the least. But that was just what Roy Mustang had been hoping for. It had made his rise to the top of the military fall within his grasp.
There had been quite a bit of resistance when he started to move through the ranks after the usurp, seeing as how Mustang had a very large part in taking the former Fuhrer down. Mustang was not trusted at first, and there were still Bradley supporters that attempted to block him at every turn, but when the people of Amestris saw how much better their lives were after Bradley was gone, the whispers of General Mustang becoming Fuhrer began. At first, they were just innuendos and mumbled rumors in beer halls and over secret meetings. But like a snowball, things happened fast, and it came as a relief to the whole of the nation when it was announced that Roy Mustang was going to become the next Fuhrer of Amestris.
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"Come on! I have to go, he was my superior officer!" Jean complained to his doctor. He had been transferred to the East after he had stabilized, and being away from his former soldiers, coworkers, and friends was driving him just as batty as not being able to move his legs. He had surprised himself with his diligence to his rehabilitation- in the hopes that he really would get to see them all again-, but he still didn't seem to be any closer to walking than he had been the morning he woke up in the hospital.
The doctor sighed, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. "Alright. I’m sure that getting out and seeing your friends would be good for you. But we’re going to have to find someone to travel with you. You’re going to need help getting around."
Havoc's face soured, his mouth dropping to a quick frown. "Gee, thanks, Doc. I never would’ve figured that out myself." he snapped. He reached- almost without thinking- to the table by the bed, but he didn't find his pack of cigarettes waiting for him. Instead, there was a small shot glass filled with toothpicks. Grumbling, he picked one up and shoved it into his mouth, chewing on it angrily.
The doctor sighed again and stood up, gathering his bags and stepping towards the door. "I'll get one of our therapists to assist you in traveling back to Central."
"I know who I want." Havoc said, his voice still low and humorless. "Call Central Command, and get Major Breda. I'm sure he'd love an excuse to come visit again. He's a good friend of mine. And if I have to have someone baby-sit me, I'd rather it be him."
"Okay. I'll call him today." The doctor nodded and exited the room, softly closing the door behind him.
Havoc let out a short breath, grumbling to himself when he looked down at the empty, crumpled cigarette pack that he'd thrown to the floor earlier that morning. "Oh great." he quipped. "This day's just getting better and better." He turned his head and looked out the window, watching the few white, puffy clouds float by on the warm spring breeze and chewing harder on his already mangled toothpick.
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"Hey, Havo! Long time no see!" Breda waved a hand, grinning broadly as he walked in the door. Havoc managed a slight smile and waved back, his mood lightening for the first time in several days.
"Hey, Breda. It's been too long. Did you bring what I asked?"
"Yeah, but I still think they're bad for ya." Breda sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he took a pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket and gently tossed them on the bed. Havoc didn't care about looking desperate when he quickly snatched the pack, tore it open, and shoved one of the sticks into his mouth. His hand shook a little as he took the lighter from the bed stand and lit it, puffing a couple of times. His whole countenance changed in an instant with the smoky breath he released.
"So, I'm gonna help you get back to Central, huh?" Breda said after giving Havoc a few moments to enjoy his nicotine rush.
"Yeah, the sooner the better. I'm going crazy here." he replied. "I feel like I'm stagnating. I need something else. I wanna get out... get up..." he stopped, letting out a deep breath and going silent again.
"Okay, chief. Let's get you ready."
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They were able to book a train a couple of days later. To everyone’s relief, Breda was a huge help in getting everything situated for the trip. He assisted with packing, and he listened intently while the doctor instructed him on how to assist his best friend. It was obvious to everyone that Havoc had been in a much better mood since his best friend had arrived. When the morning came that they were to leave, the doctor went with them to the station, giving Breda some final instructions as they boarded the train to Central.
"I know it's going to be tough, but he can only have 2 cigarettes a day. It really should be less, but we compromised. Don't let him forget to take his medicine 3 times a day. It says on the bottles which are to be taken when, but he should remember by now." He handed Breda a sheet of paper. "This is a list of telephone numbers for other doctors in Central, as well as my number here, if there are any complications. His wounds have healed, but with injuries like this, it's impossible to tell what may come up."
Breda nodded, taking this all in. "I got it, Doc. I know he can be a handful at times and I'm sorry. I hope that he'll be better about talking advice from me. I'll make him, if I have to. Thanks." The doctor nodded, understanding what the man meant, and taking no offense. He had seen Havoc’s stubbornness when he digs in his heels. The more his doctor insisted that he do something- especially if it came to his smoking habit- the more he didn't want to. They both hoped that hearing it from someone else would make Havoc listen.
A train whistle cut off any further conversation. The doctor waved, and Breda walked back over to his friend, and wheeled Havoc up to the train. It took several minutes, and 2 train workers plus Breda to get the chair and Havoc into the car. By the end of the ordeal, he was frustrated and embarrassed, and was unusually quiet for the rest of the morning, something that the sharp-witted Breda hadn't missed. After a few hours of riding in an uncomfortable, awkward silence, Breda finally confronted his friend.
"You alright, chief?" Even as slow as Havoc admitted to being at times, it hadn't escaped his notice that in the last couple of days, Breda had taken to addressing people the way that he’d used to when he was a part of the military.
Havoc shrugged noncommittally. "I guess. It's gonna be hard, going back there. Besides you, I really haven't had any visitors." There was more than a small hint of sadness in his voice. The train shuddered over a particularly rough part of the track, causing Havoc to have to steady himself- bracing on the window. He sighed softly, looking down at the blanket that covered his useless legs. "It seems like they’ve forgotten about me. I mean, I get letters from time to time, but none of them have come to visit, besides you of course."
Breda shook his head slowly. "No, they haven't. In fact, I’ve already told you that I've been acting as their liaison. I come and see you, tell you about what is going on in Central, and then when I go back, I tell them how you’re doing. There hasn't been much to tell them about you, unfortunately." He frowned and ducked his head downwards; trying to pay more attention to the donut that he was munching on so he wouldn’t have to meet his friend's steely cold, blue eyed gaze.
"Yeah, that’s why I wanted to travel. I’m hoping that this can be the kick in the ass that I need to start... moving forward." Havoc paused for a moment. "Hey, can I have a smoke?" Wordlessly, Breda took the pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and shook one out. Havoc put it in his mouth, and Breda replaced the pack, took Havoc's lighter from his pocket and lit the end. There was a slight crackling noise when the paper and dry tobacco caught on fire, and then the sound of Havoc's breath sucking in, holding, deeply releasing, then nothing.
The rest of the train ride was handled in an uncomfortable silence.
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"Lieutenant Havoc!" Armstrong beamed, his huge frame dwarfing everyone at Central Station. Havoc sighed and shook his head, nibbling on the toothpick that had become his smoking substitute. Many a toothpick had become a sad victim at his incessant chewing, the only viable target for the frustration that ate at Havoc, day after day.
"It’s just Jean now, Armstrong. I’m not a Lieutenant any more." he said sourly. Armstrong’s huge, mustachioed face immediately drooped. He looked like a puppy that had been left out in the rain, the sparkle in his eyes gone.
"Oh, yes. I’m sorry, Jean." He said awkwardly. After a moment of empty silence, he pointed towards the exit. "Let's go. You have lot of friends who are waiting for you."
The car ride was as awkward as the train ride had been. Armstrong tried to start a conversation a couple of times but no matter what he did, it seemed to go the wrong direction and mention something that made Havoc wince, and the deathly silence that filled the car would start anew.
As they drove through Central City, Havoc was very surprised at how much he remembered about the town, even though he hadn't seen it in nearly 2 years. "Ah, over there is the courthouse, and over that way are the military dorms." He said, pointing in various directions outside his window. Breda smiled. For a brief moment, he heard the hint of excitement in his friend's voice and saw that gleam that Havoc’s eyes used to hold. He wanted to say something, but he held back and just nodded. As soon at they passed the military dorms, Havoc's eyes went wide.
"Er... I guess in all the excitement I forgot. Where... am I staying?"
"Don’t worry, chief, we wouldn't leave ya high and dry." Breda smiled. "You’re staying with Janet and I."
"Oh yeah. I forgot. You’re two are gonna be married soon." He tried to keep a smile on his face but inwardly, Havoc groaned. This was yet another reminder of how he was much further behind he was falling.
"Yeah, and since you’re the best man, you’re going to be there, come hell or high water."
Jean, once again, was silent. Another toothpick bit the dust.
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Havoc's stomach twisted when he saw the giant gray building of Central Command looming in front of him. He was fairly lucky- since this was a building that many people needed access to, there was already a ramp built into the side of the building. That was a luxury that wasn’t usually available in the much smaller village that he lived in, and that had limited his excursions in many frustrating ways.
"Come on, chief. They’re waiting." Breda said, snapping him out of his thoughts. He slowly wheeled Havoc up the side of the building and towards the door. Armstrong followed a couple of steps behind, a much quieter and more serious look than normal plastered on his giant face.
Never had Havoc wanted a cigarette more than when he was being wheeled down the long hallway that they all used to frequent. The doors seemed never ending, and he remembered what was behind each of them, without even having to reading the plaques on the side of each door. As they went past it, Havoc’s eyes lingered on the door that lead to the office where he had spent most of his time- the colonel's office. How many times had Mustang been at the desk at the far end of the room, with Breda, Fuery, Falman and himself at the desks in the center, and Hawkeye, his loyal bodyguard, at the colonel's side? He wondered who was in there now. Did they have a loyal and trustworthy group of subordinates like Mustang had?
"It isn't anyone you know, the guy who’s in there." Breda could easily tell what his friend was thinking. He paused by the door for a moment. "We can go in, if you want, though it probably won't even look the same. I haven't been in there in a while."
Havoc shook his head. "Nah, it’s alright." Breda nodded and wheeled his friend towards the large office at the far end of the hallway. Havoc had only been in there a couple of times, but it was easy to tell by the ornate doorway and large plaque that it was the office of the Fuhrer. Breda stopped right outside the door. The whole hall was strangely silent. Gone was the bustle of people that were usually walking around on any normal working day. It was almost like the building and the people in it were waiting for this moment to arrive.
"Are... you ready, Jean?" Havoc shot Breda a confused look. He wasn't used to his friend using his first name. After a moment of thought, he shrugged it off and nodded.
"As ready as I'll ever be, chief." He managed a small grin, leaning his head back to look at Breda. With a deep exhalation, he opened the door.
The room was huge, and it was only the waiting room. It had portraits on the walls and a desk to the side, where the Fuhrer's secretary usually sat. It was oddly empty inside, devoid of any sort of familiarity and personality. It wasn't as if Havoc had been expecting, or even wanting his friends yelling out "Surprise!" or something silly like that, but Havoc was more than a little disappointed at the total lack of humanity in the room. Given that its previous owner had been a homunculus, he guessed that was strangely appropriate.
"Oh, I guess they’re in the inner office. Sorry, boss." Breda gave a weak smile and they continued, rolling across the great expanse of the outer room, to the inner office door. This time, when Breda opened the door, a sea of familiar faces hit him.
"Hello there, Havoc. I’m still waiting for you to catch up." Mustang looked much older. He had lines under his eyes, and his hair was slightly longer, but it was still just as well groomed as it had always been, his bangs brushing lightly over his forehead. He could see a few gray hairs that stood out among the rest of the jet blackness. But the fire was still burning in those deep onyx eyes.
Havoc smiled at the future Fuhrer. As a habit, he saluted, catching himself in the middle of it. "Oh, sorry, sir." he said with an embarrassed smirk on his face.
Mustang smiled and returned the salute. "It’s alright, Jean. And you don’t need to call me sir, at least not yet. But you better get used to saluting me. I want to see you back in your uniform, soon." Havoc noticed the sad smile he had on his face.
Slowly he panned his eyes around the room. They were all there. Fuery, Falman- who Breda had informed him on the train ride back had recently switched from Investigations to work under Mustang again- Armstrong, Breda, and Hawkeye. The gang was all here. They looked the same, for the most part. Falman was still as stiff and proper as ever. Fuery was fiddling with a little piece of machinery, something to keep his fingers busy. Havoc smiled a little as looked at all of them. Then he noticed- in the back, away from the group- a short, sandy haired child.
"Al- Alphonse?" Havoc asked softly, causing the boy who had been looking and daydreaming out the back window to jump slightly at hearing his name called. His cheeks blushed slightly and rubbed his hand on the back of his neck.
"Yes, Mr. Havoc. It is me." He gave an embarrassed grin.
"Jean, or just Havoc is fine."
"Oh, okay...er... Jean," Havoc smiled. Even though he was out of the military, it just seemed rather… weird to now have all of his former fellow soldiers calling him by his first name.
"It’s nice to see you again." Havoc said, pausing briefly. During one of his visits, Breda had explained to his best friend that Al had gotten his body back, but this had been the first time that he had seen him in the flesh. Oddly enough, he looked... younger. Jean wasn't sure how, but he didn’t even look close to the age of 16 that Havoc figured he should’ve been. He hadn't been given many details about Al's reappearance, and Havoc hadn't pried, guessing that the boy’s mental wounds were still fresh. That was something that he could definitely understand. Havoc’s hand went to his shirt, feeling the scars on his stomach through the soft material.
After a moment, Havoc's gaze went back, full circle, to Mustang. At his side, as always, was the beautiful Riza Hawkeye. He sighed. How many days had he seen her walking one step behind his former colonel? He couldn’t count the times that he had wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, how her golden hair and hazel eyes melted into his soul. Even though it had never come up in the office, he had always assumed that the bond between her and Mustang was more than just the one between an officer and his bodyguard, and Havoc had kept his feelings to himself. When he looked down slightly, and noticed that they were discreetly holding hands, he was suddenly glad that he had never breathed a word of his feelings towards her.
"R-r-Riza." he stammered, almost glad that one particular part of his body could no longer give away how he was feeling at the moment, though he was pretty sure that the hot red flush on his cheeks gave enough information to everyone.
"Hello, Havoc. It’s been a long time." She managed a small smile, but she could clearly see the conflicting emotions. It hadn't been hard for her to tell that Havoc had feelings for her, but she had always been very appreciative that he had kept things professional. She respected him as a fellow officer, but she didn’t want to break it to him that she didn't share his feelings. It was well known how unlucky was when it came to love, and she didn't want to make him feel any worse.
"Hey, Fuery, Falman". Havoc managed a little smile and a wave. Even the ever stiff Falman smiled and waved back. "So... I guess the party can start now?" Havoc smirked, his trademark grin plastered on his face for just a moment before he faded back into the rather flat countenance that had been dominant recently. There were a few moments of silence, like no one was really sure what exactly to say.
"Well, we have to get back to work, but don’t worry. We’ll see you around, and we’re all going to get together tonight for dinner." Armstrong finally said in his flat, low, gruff voice. Fuery, Falman, and Al nodded their agreement, and headed towards the door, each of them gently putting their hand on Havoc's shoulder as a farewell gesture when they left.
“I’m on leave, chief. My orders are to be your chauffer while you’re here in Central, take ya where ya need to go, show ya the sights." Breda smiled at Havoc. "So ya aren't getting rid of me so easily."
"Hmph. I thought I was usually the one driving people around." Havoc replied, somewhat bitterly.
"Well, then it’s time that I return the favor."
"Thanks, Breda. You’re a good friend." Breda just smiled.
Mustang and Hawkeye stayed silent for a moment, their hands unlocking. He cleared his throat. "I’m very sorry to do this, Havoc, but the inauguration is in two days, and I have a lot of things that I have to finalize, and a lot of paperwork that has to be signed. You know how much I look forward to that." Breda and Havoc didn’t miss the knowing smile on Hawkeye's face at the mention of paperwork, Mustang’s true nemesis. "But I’ll be there tonight, and we can catch up on old times."
Havoc nodded, actually a little glad to get away from a somewhat awkward situation. "Thanks, chief... er... Fuhrer." He smiled. "I’ll have to get used to that." He saluted again, and Mustang saluted back. Breda did the same, and turned Havoc around, wheeling him out of the office, through the huge and still empty waiting room, and back into the large, looming hallway.
All of a sudden, Havoc started to wonder if coming here was really the 'kick in the ass' that he had thought he needed.
This is the first chapter of the arc called "Gains and Losses". It’s Havoc-centric. It’s set in the mangaverse, so it has spoilers for what happens to him in Chapter 38.
Title: Friendships Renewed (Gains and Losses, Chapter 1)
Author: SeaweedOtter
Characters: Jean Havoc and friends
Rating: PG for a little language
Disclaimer: Manga Spoilers... Set years after chapter 38. Definitely AU.
Summary: Jean didn't need the constant reminders of how much he’d lost.
Read all the chapters so far HERE!
In the time since Fuhrer Bradley had been thrown from power, Amestris had been unstable, to say the least. But that was just what Roy Mustang had been hoping for. It had made his rise to the top of the military fall within his grasp.
There had been quite a bit of resistance when he started to move through the ranks after the usurp, seeing as how Mustang had a very large part in taking the former Fuhrer down. Mustang was not trusted at first, and there were still Bradley supporters that attempted to block him at every turn, but when the people of Amestris saw how much better their lives were after Bradley was gone, the whispers of General Mustang becoming Fuhrer began. At first, they were just innuendos and mumbled rumors in beer halls and over secret meetings. But like a snowball, things happened fast, and it came as a relief to the whole of the nation when it was announced that Roy Mustang was going to become the next Fuhrer of Amestris.
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"Come on! I have to go, he was my superior officer!" Jean complained to his doctor. He had been transferred to the East after he had stabilized, and being away from his former soldiers, coworkers, and friends was driving him just as batty as not being able to move his legs. He had surprised himself with his diligence to his rehabilitation- in the hopes that he really would get to see them all again-, but he still didn't seem to be any closer to walking than he had been the morning he woke up in the hospital.
The doctor sighed, taking off his glasses and rubbing his eyes. "Alright. I’m sure that getting out and seeing your friends would be good for you. But we’re going to have to find someone to travel with you. You’re going to need help getting around."
Havoc's face soured, his mouth dropping to a quick frown. "Gee, thanks, Doc. I never would’ve figured that out myself." he snapped. He reached- almost without thinking- to the table by the bed, but he didn't find his pack of cigarettes waiting for him. Instead, there was a small shot glass filled with toothpicks. Grumbling, he picked one up and shoved it into his mouth, chewing on it angrily.
The doctor sighed again and stood up, gathering his bags and stepping towards the door. "I'll get one of our therapists to assist you in traveling back to Central."
"I know who I want." Havoc said, his voice still low and humorless. "Call Central Command, and get Major Breda. I'm sure he'd love an excuse to come visit again. He's a good friend of mine. And if I have to have someone baby-sit me, I'd rather it be him."
"Okay. I'll call him today." The doctor nodded and exited the room, softly closing the door behind him.
Havoc let out a short breath, grumbling to himself when he looked down at the empty, crumpled cigarette pack that he'd thrown to the floor earlier that morning. "Oh great." he quipped. "This day's just getting better and better." He turned his head and looked out the window, watching the few white, puffy clouds float by on the warm spring breeze and chewing harder on his already mangled toothpick.
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"Hey, Havo! Long time no see!" Breda waved a hand, grinning broadly as he walked in the door. Havoc managed a slight smile and waved back, his mood lightening for the first time in several days.
"Hey, Breda. It's been too long. Did you bring what I asked?"
"Yeah, but I still think they're bad for ya." Breda sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he took a pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket and gently tossed them on the bed. Havoc didn't care about looking desperate when he quickly snatched the pack, tore it open, and shoved one of the sticks into his mouth. His hand shook a little as he took the lighter from the bed stand and lit it, puffing a couple of times. His whole countenance changed in an instant with the smoky breath he released.
"So, I'm gonna help you get back to Central, huh?" Breda said after giving Havoc a few moments to enjoy his nicotine rush.
"Yeah, the sooner the better. I'm going crazy here." he replied. "I feel like I'm stagnating. I need something else. I wanna get out... get up..." he stopped, letting out a deep breath and going silent again.
"Okay, chief. Let's get you ready."
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They were able to book a train a couple of days later. To everyone’s relief, Breda was a huge help in getting everything situated for the trip. He assisted with packing, and he listened intently while the doctor instructed him on how to assist his best friend. It was obvious to everyone that Havoc had been in a much better mood since his best friend had arrived. When the morning came that they were to leave, the doctor went with them to the station, giving Breda some final instructions as they boarded the train to Central.
"I know it's going to be tough, but he can only have 2 cigarettes a day. It really should be less, but we compromised. Don't let him forget to take his medicine 3 times a day. It says on the bottles which are to be taken when, but he should remember by now." He handed Breda a sheet of paper. "This is a list of telephone numbers for other doctors in Central, as well as my number here, if there are any complications. His wounds have healed, but with injuries like this, it's impossible to tell what may come up."
Breda nodded, taking this all in. "I got it, Doc. I know he can be a handful at times and I'm sorry. I hope that he'll be better about talking advice from me. I'll make him, if I have to. Thanks." The doctor nodded, understanding what the man meant, and taking no offense. He had seen Havoc’s stubbornness when he digs in his heels. The more his doctor insisted that he do something- especially if it came to his smoking habit- the more he didn't want to. They both hoped that hearing it from someone else would make Havoc listen.
A train whistle cut off any further conversation. The doctor waved, and Breda walked back over to his friend, and wheeled Havoc up to the train. It took several minutes, and 2 train workers plus Breda to get the chair and Havoc into the car. By the end of the ordeal, he was frustrated and embarrassed, and was unusually quiet for the rest of the morning, something that the sharp-witted Breda hadn't missed. After a few hours of riding in an uncomfortable, awkward silence, Breda finally confronted his friend.
"You alright, chief?" Even as slow as Havoc admitted to being at times, it hadn't escaped his notice that in the last couple of days, Breda had taken to addressing people the way that he’d used to when he was a part of the military.
Havoc shrugged noncommittally. "I guess. It's gonna be hard, going back there. Besides you, I really haven't had any visitors." There was more than a small hint of sadness in his voice. The train shuddered over a particularly rough part of the track, causing Havoc to have to steady himself- bracing on the window. He sighed softly, looking down at the blanket that covered his useless legs. "It seems like they’ve forgotten about me. I mean, I get letters from time to time, but none of them have come to visit, besides you of course."
Breda shook his head slowly. "No, they haven't. In fact, I’ve already told you that I've been acting as their liaison. I come and see you, tell you about what is going on in Central, and then when I go back, I tell them how you’re doing. There hasn't been much to tell them about you, unfortunately." He frowned and ducked his head downwards; trying to pay more attention to the donut that he was munching on so he wouldn’t have to meet his friend's steely cold, blue eyed gaze.
"Yeah, that’s why I wanted to travel. I’m hoping that this can be the kick in the ass that I need to start... moving forward." Havoc paused for a moment. "Hey, can I have a smoke?" Wordlessly, Breda took the pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket and shook one out. Havoc put it in his mouth, and Breda replaced the pack, took Havoc's lighter from his pocket and lit the end. There was a slight crackling noise when the paper and dry tobacco caught on fire, and then the sound of Havoc's breath sucking in, holding, deeply releasing, then nothing.
The rest of the train ride was handled in an uncomfortable silence.
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"Lieutenant Havoc!" Armstrong beamed, his huge frame dwarfing everyone at Central Station. Havoc sighed and shook his head, nibbling on the toothpick that had become his smoking substitute. Many a toothpick had become a sad victim at his incessant chewing, the only viable target for the frustration that ate at Havoc, day after day.
"It’s just Jean now, Armstrong. I’m not a Lieutenant any more." he said sourly. Armstrong’s huge, mustachioed face immediately drooped. He looked like a puppy that had been left out in the rain, the sparkle in his eyes gone.
"Oh, yes. I’m sorry, Jean." He said awkwardly. After a moment of empty silence, he pointed towards the exit. "Let's go. You have lot of friends who are waiting for you."
The car ride was as awkward as the train ride had been. Armstrong tried to start a conversation a couple of times but no matter what he did, it seemed to go the wrong direction and mention something that made Havoc wince, and the deathly silence that filled the car would start anew.
As they drove through Central City, Havoc was very surprised at how much he remembered about the town, even though he hadn't seen it in nearly 2 years. "Ah, over there is the courthouse, and over that way are the military dorms." He said, pointing in various directions outside his window. Breda smiled. For a brief moment, he heard the hint of excitement in his friend's voice and saw that gleam that Havoc’s eyes used to hold. He wanted to say something, but he held back and just nodded. As soon at they passed the military dorms, Havoc's eyes went wide.
"Er... I guess in all the excitement I forgot. Where... am I staying?"
"Don’t worry, chief, we wouldn't leave ya high and dry." Breda smiled. "You’re staying with Janet and I."
"Oh yeah. I forgot. You’re two are gonna be married soon." He tried to keep a smile on his face but inwardly, Havoc groaned. This was yet another reminder of how he was much further behind he was falling.
"Yeah, and since you’re the best man, you’re going to be there, come hell or high water."
Jean, once again, was silent. Another toothpick bit the dust.
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Havoc's stomach twisted when he saw the giant gray building of Central Command looming in front of him. He was fairly lucky- since this was a building that many people needed access to, there was already a ramp built into the side of the building. That was a luxury that wasn’t usually available in the much smaller village that he lived in, and that had limited his excursions in many frustrating ways.
"Come on, chief. They’re waiting." Breda said, snapping him out of his thoughts. He slowly wheeled Havoc up the side of the building and towards the door. Armstrong followed a couple of steps behind, a much quieter and more serious look than normal plastered on his giant face.
Never had Havoc wanted a cigarette more than when he was being wheeled down the long hallway that they all used to frequent. The doors seemed never ending, and he remembered what was behind each of them, without even having to reading the plaques on the side of each door. As they went past it, Havoc’s eyes lingered on the door that lead to the office where he had spent most of his time- the colonel's office. How many times had Mustang been at the desk at the far end of the room, with Breda, Fuery, Falman and himself at the desks in the center, and Hawkeye, his loyal bodyguard, at the colonel's side? He wondered who was in there now. Did they have a loyal and trustworthy group of subordinates like Mustang had?
"It isn't anyone you know, the guy who’s in there." Breda could easily tell what his friend was thinking. He paused by the door for a moment. "We can go in, if you want, though it probably won't even look the same. I haven't been in there in a while."
Havoc shook his head. "Nah, it’s alright." Breda nodded and wheeled his friend towards the large office at the far end of the hallway. Havoc had only been in there a couple of times, but it was easy to tell by the ornate doorway and large plaque that it was the office of the Fuhrer. Breda stopped right outside the door. The whole hall was strangely silent. Gone was the bustle of people that were usually walking around on any normal working day. It was almost like the building and the people in it were waiting for this moment to arrive.
"Are... you ready, Jean?" Havoc shot Breda a confused look. He wasn't used to his friend using his first name. After a moment of thought, he shrugged it off and nodded.
"As ready as I'll ever be, chief." He managed a small grin, leaning his head back to look at Breda. With a deep exhalation, he opened the door.
The room was huge, and it was only the waiting room. It had portraits on the walls and a desk to the side, where the Fuhrer's secretary usually sat. It was oddly empty inside, devoid of any sort of familiarity and personality. It wasn't as if Havoc had been expecting, or even wanting his friends yelling out "Surprise!" or something silly like that, but Havoc was more than a little disappointed at the total lack of humanity in the room. Given that its previous owner had been a homunculus, he guessed that was strangely appropriate.
"Oh, I guess they’re in the inner office. Sorry, boss." Breda gave a weak smile and they continued, rolling across the great expanse of the outer room, to the inner office door. This time, when Breda opened the door, a sea of familiar faces hit him.
"Hello there, Havoc. I’m still waiting for you to catch up." Mustang looked much older. He had lines under his eyes, and his hair was slightly longer, but it was still just as well groomed as it had always been, his bangs brushing lightly over his forehead. He could see a few gray hairs that stood out among the rest of the jet blackness. But the fire was still burning in those deep onyx eyes.
Havoc smiled at the future Fuhrer. As a habit, he saluted, catching himself in the middle of it. "Oh, sorry, sir." he said with an embarrassed smirk on his face.
Mustang smiled and returned the salute. "It’s alright, Jean. And you don’t need to call me sir, at least not yet. But you better get used to saluting me. I want to see you back in your uniform, soon." Havoc noticed the sad smile he had on his face.
Slowly he panned his eyes around the room. They were all there. Fuery, Falman- who Breda had informed him on the train ride back had recently switched from Investigations to work under Mustang again- Armstrong, Breda, and Hawkeye. The gang was all here. They looked the same, for the most part. Falman was still as stiff and proper as ever. Fuery was fiddling with a little piece of machinery, something to keep his fingers busy. Havoc smiled a little as looked at all of them. Then he noticed- in the back, away from the group- a short, sandy haired child.
"Al- Alphonse?" Havoc asked softly, causing the boy who had been looking and daydreaming out the back window to jump slightly at hearing his name called. His cheeks blushed slightly and rubbed his hand on the back of his neck.
"Yes, Mr. Havoc. It is me." He gave an embarrassed grin.
"Jean, or just Havoc is fine."
"Oh, okay...er... Jean," Havoc smiled. Even though he was out of the military, it just seemed rather… weird to now have all of his former fellow soldiers calling him by his first name.
"It’s nice to see you again." Havoc said, pausing briefly. During one of his visits, Breda had explained to his best friend that Al had gotten his body back, but this had been the first time that he had seen him in the flesh. Oddly enough, he looked... younger. Jean wasn't sure how, but he didn’t even look close to the age of 16 that Havoc figured he should’ve been. He hadn't been given many details about Al's reappearance, and Havoc hadn't pried, guessing that the boy’s mental wounds were still fresh. That was something that he could definitely understand. Havoc’s hand went to his shirt, feeling the scars on his stomach through the soft material.
After a moment, Havoc's gaze went back, full circle, to Mustang. At his side, as always, was the beautiful Riza Hawkeye. He sighed. How many days had he seen her walking one step behind his former colonel? He couldn’t count the times that he had wanted to tell her how beautiful she was, how her golden hair and hazel eyes melted into his soul. Even though it had never come up in the office, he had always assumed that the bond between her and Mustang was more than just the one between an officer and his bodyguard, and Havoc had kept his feelings to himself. When he looked down slightly, and noticed that they were discreetly holding hands, he was suddenly glad that he had never breathed a word of his feelings towards her.
"R-r-Riza." he stammered, almost glad that one particular part of his body could no longer give away how he was feeling at the moment, though he was pretty sure that the hot red flush on his cheeks gave enough information to everyone.
"Hello, Havoc. It’s been a long time." She managed a small smile, but she could clearly see the conflicting emotions. It hadn't been hard for her to tell that Havoc had feelings for her, but she had always been very appreciative that he had kept things professional. She respected him as a fellow officer, but she didn’t want to break it to him that she didn't share his feelings. It was well known how unlucky was when it came to love, and she didn't want to make him feel any worse.
"Hey, Fuery, Falman". Havoc managed a little smile and a wave. Even the ever stiff Falman smiled and waved back. "So... I guess the party can start now?" Havoc smirked, his trademark grin plastered on his face for just a moment before he faded back into the rather flat countenance that had been dominant recently. There were a few moments of silence, like no one was really sure what exactly to say.
"Well, we have to get back to work, but don’t worry. We’ll see you around, and we’re all going to get together tonight for dinner." Armstrong finally said in his flat, low, gruff voice. Fuery, Falman, and Al nodded their agreement, and headed towards the door, each of them gently putting their hand on Havoc's shoulder as a farewell gesture when they left.
“I’m on leave, chief. My orders are to be your chauffer while you’re here in Central, take ya where ya need to go, show ya the sights." Breda smiled at Havoc. "So ya aren't getting rid of me so easily."
"Hmph. I thought I was usually the one driving people around." Havoc replied, somewhat bitterly.
"Well, then it’s time that I return the favor."
"Thanks, Breda. You’re a good friend." Breda just smiled.
Mustang and Hawkeye stayed silent for a moment, their hands unlocking. He cleared his throat. "I’m very sorry to do this, Havoc, but the inauguration is in two days, and I have a lot of things that I have to finalize, and a lot of paperwork that has to be signed. You know how much I look forward to that." Breda and Havoc didn’t miss the knowing smile on Hawkeye's face at the mention of paperwork, Mustang’s true nemesis. "But I’ll be there tonight, and we can catch up on old times."
Havoc nodded, actually a little glad to get away from a somewhat awkward situation. "Thanks, chief... er... Fuhrer." He smiled. "I’ll have to get used to that." He saluted again, and Mustang saluted back. Breda did the same, and turned Havoc around, wheeling him out of the office, through the huge and still empty waiting room, and back into the large, looming hallway.
All of a sudden, Havoc started to wonder if coming here was really the 'kick in the ass' that he had thought he needed.