Once Somebody Loved - Chapter 8
Zoofic Collboration between myself and anax
Warnings: Rape, kitten abuse, NC-17 in parts
Previous: [Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Chapter Three] [Chapter Four] [Chapter Five] [Chapter Six] [Chapter Seven]
Marta sorted the last of the mail, putting the largest envelope on top of her desk for later, non-distracted attention, and ran her fingers through her hair. She slapped the top of the desk and decided to go check on Ed and Eddie and see how things were going. As she walked down the hall she glanced into Ed and Ling's enclosure and saw Ed on the bed. He was curled up on his side around what seemed to be a bundle of coat.
He didn't.
Marta paused at the door of the enclosure and tried the knob. It turned easily.
“Ed?” she said, and he lifted his head and turned to look at her, his brows dipping in the middle. “What are you doing, Ed?” she asked.
Ed immediately adopted a look of innocence and casually fingered a pillow on the bed. He pulled it over to him, easing it up on the bundle he was currently huddled around. He laid his head on it lightly and gave her an exaggerated yawn and smacked his lips; he even put his eyes to half mast and made a sleepy chirrup at her.
Marta came over to the bed and looked down at him. Ed smiled charmingly at her and rubbed the side of her leg with his foot. He began to purr at her and rubbed his cheek on the pillow. The pillow rose up and moved on its own. Ed looked at it momentarily and then up at Marta, sucking in his lower lip.
Marta reached down gripped the pillow, and slowly pulled it away from Ed. The coat wadded up in Ed's arms shifted again slightly. A small sigh was heard from within. Marta leaned over to touch the coat and Ed kissed her outstretched hand; when she kept moving it he clamped his teeth lightly over the side of her little finger.
“Ed,” Marta said with a light warning tone. Ed tried to make his eyes bigger than his face and he sucked a little on the side of her finger.
Marta gave her hand a tug, then another, harder one. Ed released her finger and Marta gently pushed the coat open a bit. Inside, as she suspected, was curled Eddie. He was asleep, (and this was the only thing that saved Ed from an instant verbal smack down) , and curled on his side against Ed's chest. His nose twitched a little, but he settled again. Marta pulled the coat back up to block the light.
“You are just lucky he is asleep,” Marta hissed quietly to Ed. Ed's eyes widened a touch. “Very, very lucky. But when he is awake, your luck has run out. Do not think for a moment this is the end of this. I told you that you could talk to Eddie in his enclosure; your enclosure makes him uncomfortable.”
This blatant, open defiance made Marta all kinds of angry. To let Ed win this round by leaving Eddie here in his bed was not acceptable. She put one knee up on the bed and began to try and ease her arms around the pelt-wrapped kitten.
Ed stiffened and made a low whine that threatened to grow in volume, and Eddie tensed visibly. His mouth drew down hard. Marta froze, and after a few indeterminately long moments, Eddie settled again. Defeated, Marta eased back off the bed and glared down at Ed, who didn't even have the decency to look contrite.
There was nothing for it, moving Eddie now would only wake him. She pointed at Ed and then turned and left the enclosure, pulling the door closed quietly behind her. She glared at Ed for effect from the picture window before leaving the pair of Edwards to nap.
She checked on them periodically and when the nap had gone on for a good two hours she felt justified in breaking it up. After all, if she let Eddie sleep all day he wouldn't sleep that night. She came back in the enclosure and walked over to the dozing pair. The sight was enough to almost make her forget her anger at Ed. Eddie had wiggled out of the coat at some point; it sagged down around his waist. His small head was tucked under Ed's chin and Ed had one arm draped lightly over him. Marta sighed and shook her head. It had always been hard to be angry with Ed; this made it even more difficult. But she had to be firm. Ed was too smart, and he would quickly take advantage of any weakness.
She gripped Ed's arm and moved it. Ed snorted and rolled over, and wiped at his nose. Eddie stirred then, mewed softly as his heat source abandoned him. Marta gently scooped him up and brought him against her own chest, rubbing his small back.
“Time to get up sleepy head,” she sing-songed to the kitten, starting for the door. “Can't be a slug-a-bed all day. Want some juice, baby?”
She left the enclosure and headed for the kitchen, passing Ling in the hall. Eddie was still groggy and had his cheek on her shoulder; he barely gave Ling a glance.
“Ed is in your room,” she told Ling. “He's on the bed,” she winked.
Ok, perhaps that was a dirty tactic, but Ed certainly had it coming.
Ling stopped and looked in through the picture window. A slow smile spread over his features and he grabbed the outer curtains on either side and jerked them shut. He hurried around the corner to the door and slipped in, pulling it closed quietly behind him. His mate lay sprawled on their bed, snoring softly. Ling padded over to the bed and toed off his slippers. He noticed his mate's coat wadded there and picked it up and tossed it over his shoulder to get it out of his way. He crawled up beside Ed and lowered himself on his side. Ed was sleep-flushed and his hair was splayed out over the blanket beneath him. Ling ran a hand slowly down his chest, stopping to worry open the buttons of his vest as he did so. Ed muttered softly and licked his lips, snuffled once. Ling lowered his face, ran the tip of his nose along Ed's jaw. His hand slid even lower, nimble fingers released the button of Ed's trousers, and then wormed their way beneath the waist band. Ed started to purr sketchily, he turned his head away from the ticklish touch along his jaw.
Ling pushed his hand further into Ed's trousers, beneath the waist band of his boxers and scratched lightly through thick curls. Ed sighed lushly and arched a bit, his eyes half opened for a moment, but then sank back closed. Ling pushed his fingers lower, skated them over Ed's cock and smiled with satisfaction at both the twitch there and the sudden intake of breath. He continued the light touches up and down the length of his mate's penis, stopping to lightly pinch the head and finger the slit.
Ed arched his back up, pulled his knees up and spread them wantonly. He muttered unintelligible things and his purr grew louder with each stroke of Ling's long, deft fingers.
“I have missed you, I have missed this,” Ling said softly to his lover's sleepy visage. He began to work Ed's pants open further, rolled them down onto his thighs, followed by his boxers. Ed sniffled and blinked, made a sleepy inquiry that was still mostly gibberish. Ling ran his fingers under Ed's now hardened cock and lifted it up. He lowered his lips, kissed the flushed head, and his lover gasped loudly. Ling's tongue dragged slowly across the head of Ed's penis and Ed came to wakefulness.
“M..mate? Fuck that's good,” Ed gasped and tilted his hips up for more. He dragged his fingers down Ling's back and gave a happy, lustful sigh. “More,” he purred. “Suck me lover.”
Ling rumbled, just those few simple words had his own cock straining against his pants. He opened his mouth to comply but checked himself. Why? Why should be he be giving into any of Ed's demands, (no matter how sexily they were delivered), when Ed had kept him at arm's length for so long? It should be Ed crawling up Ling's body, asking forgiveness, begging with his hot mouth and tongue, and his ass in the air. Yes, high in the air, inviting.
Ed suddenly stiffened under him, he patted frantically around on the bed and then his palm hit the side of Ling's head, shoved him away as Ed sat up.
“Where is my KITTEN?” Ed cried. “What have you done with him?” Ed looked around the room wildly.
“OW,” Ling complained, reaching up to rub his head. “He's not here, lay back down so I can put my mouth on you,” he coaxed.
“Where did he go?” Ed said, sliding off the bed. He stopped to yank his pants and boxers back up and noticed his coat lying on the floor. “He left my coat! Did he just walk out on his own? Why didn't you wake me up?!” Ed accused, buttoning his pants and running for the door. He stopped at looked back at Ling who was still sitting on the edge of the bed. His lover didn't look very happy, in fact he looked rather angry, and Ed felt a pang of guilt over it...but where was his kitten?! He was too little, too volatile yet to be wondering around on his own. “Which way did he go?” Ed begged Ling.
“The way mother carried him,” Ling said flatly and then flopped back on the bed.
Marta had introduced Eddie to the sipper cup. Now the kitten had a mix of fresh fruit juice in his cup and was sitting at the table sucking on the spout. There was a sudden noise at the doorway that made them both turn their heads. Eddie made a sound around his mouth full of cup and Marta scowled. Ed was panting slightly, he looked a bit wild eyed and disheveled. His eyes fixed on Eddie and he pushed off the door jamb and started across the kitchen. Marta stepped in front of Eddie, turned and lifted him into her arms. Ed stopped short, snorted and held out his own arms. Marta stepped around him and walked out of the kitchen. Eddie, still firmly attached to his sipper cup, turned his head to look at Ed over Marta's shoulder as she headed down the hall. Ed trailed after her, she could hear him huffing angrily at her back, but she didn't change her pace. She went to Eddie's enclosure and opened the door. She took the kitten in, deposited him on the floor near his pile of toys and turned around to see his irate foster parent standing there, eyeing her.
“I need to speak to you in the hall,” she told Ed evenly, put a hand on his chest and pushed him backwards. Ed sputtered, looked at Eddie over Marta's shoulder, but retreated. Marta turned and pulled the door of Eddie's enclosure closed and then regarded Ed for another moment. The look of surprise on his face was priceless when she reached up and grabbed him by the ponytail, twisting it hard in her fist.
“You come with me,” she hissed. “We have things to discuss.”
He had little choice. Tears were welling in the corner of his eyes, his head was bowed forward and he couldn't see where they were going. Marta stopped in a doorway and dragged him forward, shoved him hard and he stumbled into her bedroom, almost fell over onto the bed. He straightened up and whirled around as she shut the door.
“Who do you think you ARE?!” she yelled, jabbing a finger in Ed's face. He backpedaled, the back of his knees hit the bed and he sat hard, stared up at her.
“I TOLD you that Eddie isn't comfortable in your enclosure, I also TOLD you that you could stay with Eddie in HIS enclosure,” Marta put her hands on her hips and leaned forward a little. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
Apparently Ed had a lot to say for himself, because he launched into a verbal tirade of his own, scowling up at her. He was getting so willful, everyone was right; she'd spoiled him rotten.
The door to his enclosure had barely closed before Edward was tugging on the knob. Mother said something outside the door, and he flinched back, but whatever it was didn't result in the door opening again. After a few minutes of silence, he resumed tugging on the knob.
His door was usually stuck. No amount of tugging or twisting would open a stuck door, but this time it wasn't, and the knob turned easily once he put enough effort into it.
The hallway was empty, and the scents were too strong and confused for him to follow them, but he knew that one direction lead only to other enclosures, while the other lead to the house. There was no reason to think that Mother and his father-Edward would go toward the other enclosures.
It was only a few steps down the hallway before it occurred to him that he'd never been allowed to wander around alone before, and he probably wasn't supposed to be wandering around alone now. He paused, unsure of himself, feeling abruptly vulnerable without Mother or his father-Edward with him. It had been a long time since he'd been out by himself ... when he was alone, he was usually locked in his enclosure or (before that, long ago) collared and leashed to keep him from going anywhere.
He wasn't collared now. He wasn't locked in a room.
He clenched his fists, and resumed his stealthy creep down the hallway.
The door to the house was very familiar to him, and he'd never seen Mother have to pause there to get it unstuck. He was about to tug on the knob to open it when he realized that he was right next to the other room, the one his father-Edward had taken him to. The place where his father had forced him to stay through his fear, until he'd worn himself out and slept.
That was where he'd last seen his father-Edward's coat. If it was that close, Edward decided that he wanted it back. The door was open already, and he trotted inside to look for the coat.
The scents hit him immediately when he entered ... the black-haired animal, his father-Edward, the reek of punishment. It was fresh now, and he drew back toward the doorway, but no one was being punished there now. The room appeared to be empty ...
"... what are you doing here?"
... but it wasn't.
What Edward had originally taken to be a pile of pelts on the bed began to unfold itself and sit up. He drew back; the black-haired animal frightened him, because it was strange, neither human nor Elric. It did things to his father-Edward, touching him with its hands and mouth, and sometimes Edward's father carried that disquieting smell that always accompanied punishment when this creature was around.
He could see his father-Edward's coat on the floor, between himself and the other animal.
"You're not supposed to be wandering around," said the black-haired animal. "Mother will be angry at you. Wait. Never mind, wander around all you want. I want to see her catch you."
The animal was angry at him; if Edward had any doubts left from the tone of its voice, he had only to peek up at the annoyed slant of its eyebrows to confirm it. He'd only just entered the room a moment ago, and it was already angry with him ... Had he somehow barged in on its territory? A surreptitious glance to either side betrayed no sign of territorial markings, and at any rate his father-Edward had carried him in here earlier. Twice. His father-Edward would not carry him into another animal's territory, surely.
His eyes fell to the coat on the floor once more.
The other animal noticed, and looked toward the coat also. "What, are you wanting his pelt back?" It rearranged the pillows on the bed and lay down on its side. "Go ahead. Take it. You may as well. You've got everything else, take his pelt, too."
Edward crouched, and then went down onto his hands and knees. He didn't like that the other animal was giving him permission ... was it a predator? Surely his father-Edward would have killed it, or driven it away forever at least, if it was ... but what else could it be? It wasn't human, wasn't Elric, wasn't a lower animal, and Edward had no classification for it. What if it was just tricking him into coming closer?
What if it wanted to ... Edward swallowed. The room did smell strongly of this animal, and punishment. His father-Edward wasn't here to protect him this time.
The other animal gave him a narrow look. "What's the matter? I told you to come take it."
Edward swallowed and licked his lips. He wanted to ask the creature what it was ... and perhaps more than that ... and he even opened his mouth a little to do it. But then he looked up at the black-haired animal's forbidding scowl, and his courage withered.
In the end, he broke and ran, fleeing out the door without his father-Edward's coat while the other animal made surprised-sounding demands at his back. "What? I told you ... Where are you going? Come back here!"
The door to the house opened immediately to Edward's frantic tugging, and he tore through the hallway, into the living room and through it, into the kitchen. He stopped there, heart racing, and hid behind the counter in the middle of the kitchen, listening for any sign of pursuit.
There was none, but he did hear his father-Edward's voice, raised in anger. Muffled, as if his father was behind something, but clear, and close.
Edward didn't want to hear that. He didn't want his father to be angry ... he didn't want to be nearby when his father was angry. His father-Edward's anger scared him, made him want to crawl under something and hide.
Going back, however, would mean walking past that black-haired animal again. It might have come out of the other enclosure by now ...
Edward wished he'd never left his own enclosure.
His father-Edward's voice echoed in from down the other hallway.
"He is my kitten! My kitten! I will take care of him, I will protect him! You can't protect him the way I can!"
A pause, and then, "Humans are the ones who did this to him! You told me yourself! He told me! A human mated with him, it was no Elric who did that!"
Edward's father was furious, and the sound of his rage made Edward shiver. Nevertheless, he began to crawl, on his hands and knees, down the hallway toward the sound of his father's voice. He wanted the yelling to stop; he wanted his father to protect him from the black-haired animal, and from the emptiness of the rest of the house.
"I can protect him! I can take care of him! I'll make sure no human ever hurts my kitten again!"
And, in the pause that followed, Edward realized that he could hear Mother's voice in the pauses, now that he was halfway down the hallway. She spoke in the pause, more quietly than his father-Edward.
"I know you keep saying [my kitten], and I know that means Eddie, what is it Ed? Do you think I'm not taking care of Eddie? Is that it? Do you think I can't?"
"No, you can't!" yelled Edward's father back, far more emphatically than the way Mother was speaking. "You don't know what my kitten needs! He needs to be held, he needs to be petted! I haven't even heard him purring yet!"
"Stop shouting," said Mother. "That isn't going to accomplish anything. I know Eddie is your [my kitten], but I am responsible for you both. I take care of you and Eddie, and if I tell you not to do something Ed, then don't do it. I don't know what's gotten into you. I've been very proud of you, you've really helped out ... but Ed, I am in charge, not you. Listen to me, I'm the boss, alright?"
A hesitation. Edward crept along the wall of the hallway until he reached one of the closed doors. Mother's voice and his father's were coming from behind it. "You can't tell me what to do with my kitten," said his father, after a moment. "He is my kitten! Mine! I know what is best for him. He is talking to me, Mother!" Edward's father's voice shaded toward a whine. "He talked to me! Isn't that good? Doesn't that mean I know what's best?"
"Ed, if you keep on like this...what can I do?" Mother's voice paused again. "I can tell you are very passionate about Eddie, but I can't let it continue to the point where you will openly and willfully defy me. I just can't. I don't understand why I was good enough to raise you but somehow you think I'm not good enough to raise Eddie. Here we go, the point where everyone thinks I'm crazy for putting so much faith into your understanding. Do you understand a word of this? Do you know what I'm saying? Well I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt you do. I'll tell you this, I'm hurt. I'm hurt you seem to think I'm not good enough for your [my kitten]. But I will not stand by and let you do as you please, you are not in charge here, I am. Please don't make me do something I don't want to do."
Another silent hesitation. Edward curled up beside the closed door; he was glad that his father-Edward was not yelling anymore. "I understand you," said Edward's father. "I want to make you understand me. He is my kitten. I will take care of him. I will not let you take him away from me."
"Ed, I know you love Eddie, and I can't tell you how happy that makes me. Don't push this issue. I decide what does and doesn't happen here. That is how it's going to be."
"No, it isn't!" said Edward's father, at the top of his voice once more, and Edward clapped his hands over his ears to block some of the sound. "He talked to me! He talked to m--"
The final word was cut off by a sharp sound, and Edward scrambled to his feet. He knew that sound, knew it intimately. He pawed at the doorknob and tugged the door open.
"Father!" he wailed, although he didn't know which one of them had cuffed the other one.
His father-Edward was in a half-crouch of submission, his head turned slightly to one side, but he was quick enough to catch Edward when the younger Elric flung himself into his arms. "Kitling," he said, confused. "What are you doing here?"
"Father, no!" Edward wailed into his father-Edward's elbow. "Don't fight! Don't fight!"
"Eddie, how did you get out of your room?" asked Mother, kneeling down beside them; Edward wailed more when he felt Mother's hand start to stroke through his hair. "Baby, you came all the way here from your room by yourself?"
"No, kitling," murmured his father-Edward. "It's all right. Why did you come here?"
His father's arms went around him, and Edward keened harder. Everything was wrong about this ... everything was going wrong. Mother and his father-Edward weren't supposed to be fighting. Nobody was supposed to be cuffing anyone else. Why was this happening?
"It's alright," soothed Mother. "Don't cry, baby. You heard us arguing didn't you? It's scared you."
"Why did you come here?" asked his father-Edward again.
"Father," whispered Edward. How could he explain? There weren't words in the world to explain how he didn't want to be alone right now. Without his father-Edward, without Mother ... without even his father's coat.
Mother's hand left Edward's hair as she stood up. "Ed," she said, "let's take Eddie back to his room, all right?"
"No," said Edward's father immediately.
There was silence behind Edward for a moment, and he rubbed his face on his father's arm. When Mother spoke again, her voice was low. "What will you do the next time something frightens him?" she asked. "Will you be there to stop him? What will you do if he kills someone? What will you do, Ed?"
"He won't --" began his father-Edward, but Mother interrupted.
"There are humans who have asked me, over and over again, to kill Eddie because of what he has done. There are humans who want Eddie dead. I have protected Eddie from other humans, but you need to protect Eddie from me? Tell me Ed, will you be responsible if Kate frightens Eddie and he kills her? What about Ling? What will you do, Ed?"
"I'll be with him." Edward's father stroked his hair and back, and Edward shivered. "I'll be with him. He talked to me. He slept next to me. Mother, just let me try!"
Edward didn't understand any of this. Most of what Mother said, in the language of humans, meant nothing to him, and what his father-Edward was saying made no sense. They were arguing, he understood that much, and it was about him ... one of them had cuffed the other earlier. Had something happened? Had he done something bad? He had left his enclosure, unaccompanied ...
"I don't know what to do," said Mother eventually. "Keeping him from you is cruel, keeping you from him is cruel. It's on me, if something happens. They will take Eddie away, Ed. They will take me away, and you will probably go to a zoo. Ling to the emperor...but what can I do?"
"Nothing will happen," said Edward's father.
The proximity of his father-Edward's body, the closeness with which he was being held, suddenly felt overpowering, and Edward jerked, striking his father with a fist to be released. His father-Edward let him go and Edward fell back onto his rump, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. Mother was standing over them, but she didn't look angry now. Neither did his father; when Edward looked toward the elder Elric, his father-Edward gave him a cocky grin.
"Let's go outside," his father said.
Mother stepped back when Edward's father reached for him. Edward did not understand, but he raised his arms anyway to be lifted. Outside? He'd gone outside already that morning, and it was cold and unpleasant out there. It always was, when they'd had the routine of having to leave the sanctuary to see his father-Edward.
"Ed," sighed Mother. "Don't be lifting him, too ..."
"Come on, kitling," said his father-Edward. He hissed as he hoisted Edward up.
Mother's voice was sharp then. "Ed!" she said. "Ed, you're hurt, aren't you?"
She tried to take Eddie away, then, taking him under the arms to pull him away from his father-Edward. Edward's father said, "No," and tried to keep a grip on Edward, but then he yelped for no reason Edward could discern and let go. In a moment of confusion, Edward found himself transferred to Mother's hip, one of her arms around him and her other hand holding his father-Edward by the wrist.
"Come on, don't fight me," she said. "I bet you've ripped your stitches. If it's not one thing it's another lately, and I think I'm losing my mind. I told Charles I should have opted for the normal life."
They were still fighting. Edward's father whined and reached for Edward, but Mother turned to keep him out of reach, and pulled Edward's father with her when she left the room. Edward didn't like all this conflict.
"That's my kitten!" his father-Edward said, as he was dragged along behind them. "I'm not hurt, I'm fine, there's no reason to take my kitten away!"
Fingers fisting in Mother's sleeve, Edward rested his forehead against Mother's arm. They were fighting about him.
Marta set Eddie on his feet in the infirmary, then pulled Ed over to one of the beds and pushed him to sit on it. She began to undo the buttons of his vest and then his shirt beneath. Ed keep whining and talking and looking at Eddie. He tried once to push Marta's hands away but she ignored him, pulled his shirt out of his pants and made him lift his arm so she could examine his side. She gave a slight hiss at the sight and fingered the edges of the bandaged.
“Pete will kill me if you get another infection, dammit Ed,” she said. “You sit right here, don't you dare get up.” She stepped away, gave him a warning look and then headed over to the cabinets. Ed held a hand out to Eddie who regarded him mournfully. Eddie looked toward Marta, then back to Ed before reaching out and letting Ed grip his small hand and pull him over. Ed leaned over him then, speaking softly and stroking his hair. Marta pulled out gauze, tape and antiseptic, bringing it back to sit on a table beside the bed. She sincerely hoped she wouldn’t have to do any re-stitching.
“You need to take your medicine as well,” she said, ripping open the packages of sterile gauze. Ed ignored her in favor of petting on Eddie, but Eddie glanced up at her, small face worried and mouth in a frown.
Marta gripped Eddie's elbow and tugged him away, grabbed Ed's hand to keep him from reaching for him again. It was a double edged sword; Ed's involvement with Eddie was total and whole-hearted, and that wasn't a bad thing. His blindness to everything around him that wasn't Eddie was; she wasn't sure how to handle it. She would allow Ed to play parent, it was what Eddie needed, but she worried about Ed's obsessive way of going about it. Ling was conspicuous by his absence. She remembered them being inseparable, now she rarely saw them together. Ed was shoving everything away; alienating his mate...even her. She shouldn't feel this way but she couldn't help it.
Marta gently peeled the soiled bandage from Ed's side and inspected the stitches there as he hissed and whined. There was some blood seepage and the area was a bit red, but it didn't look bad. She got some antiseptic on a gauze pad and looked at Ed.
“This will sting,” she told him, “hold still.” She pressed the pad over the area and he gasped a breath and shook. She was matter of fact and efficient about it. She tossed the used pad up on the table and went about making a fresh bandage for the wound. She got it taped into place despite Ed's squirming and muttered protests. Eddie stood by silently during the entire process, looking alternately between the two adults. Marta checked Ed's shoulder as well, but it was healing up nicely and the stitches could probably be removed. But one thing at a time.
Ed pushed her hands away, grabbed up his shirt and pulled it on slowly, belying the enthusiasm in his voice as he chattered to Eddie. Marta went about cleaning up the table and throwing away the wrappers the gauze had been in. There were no tears to soothe, there wasn't a back to rub and golden hair to murmur into with comfort. Ed was pushing her aside. He seemed to do it so easily. She wadded the gauzing wrapper in her fist tightly, took a deep breath and threw it in the bin. He was an animal after all; she'd served her purpose as his parent. She'd raised him, taught him, sheltered him; and now he was ready to be rid of her. Just like that.
To live so simplistically; practicality was prevalent in the animal kingdom, anyone who'd studied any species knew this for a fact. They picked up and moved on, they might appear to grieve but did they really? She'd often argued in favor of the theory that Alphonses grieved themselves to death over lost Edward mates. But Edwards could and would live on in most instances. Perhaps as moody loners, and not for very long, but they did live on. So, was she relegated to the role of sibling after all? Ed had outgrown her? This was idiocy, wasn't it? She brought all this on herself. All this pain settling in her chest was her own doing after all for assigning intelligence and emotion to an animal.
“Don't you dare pick him up,” she snapped as Ed bent to do just that. Eddie flinched and looked at her and she regretted it. Ed snorted and made to put his hands under Eddie's arms.
“Ed, if you pick him up I will strap you to a table,” she said. “I mean it, you just try me. Now take him by the hand and lead him, you are injured. If you won't take care of yourself you force me to. I'm tired of fighting you tonight.” She strode angrily to the cabinet and yanked it open, pulled out a bottle of sedative, yanked a drawer open for a needle. She glanced back at them and Ed was holding Eddie by the hand and the younger Elric was pressed to the adult's leg. Ed regarded her with a faintly baffled expression, then he looked toward the infirmary door, down at Eddie, then strode toward it. Eddie churned his small legs to keep up with Ed's longer strides. She didn't stop them, she let them go. She put the sedative and needle away, shutting the drawer and putting her hands on the cabinet.
She'd given up her life for this cause, she'd done it willingly. She had no regrets. She'd always heard there were rewards, and there were rewards, truly...every successful release was a reward of itself. But there had been something else; no...thinking like this was self-serving and irrational. She was surprised to see a spot of wetness strike the countertop. She had things to do, there was no time for her to be standing around.
Leaving the infirmary, she walked down the hall into the sanctuary proper. She saw Ed with Eddie inside Ed's enclosure. Ed was picking through things about the enclosure. He had blankets from his and Ling's bed on the floor, a couple of pillows had joined them and he was eyeing the curtains that hung beside the window to his outside enclosure. Eddie stood at his side, looking up at the adult Elric.
Ed was going to transmute pelts. It would be just as well for Eddie to see alchemy used for something other than death. She should stay and watch, but she didn't. She resumed her walk though the sanctuary. She went into the house proper.
There were a few things she had been putting off, so she did them now, while none of the animals needed her attention: did the dishes, cleaned out the refrigerator, straightened the living room. She wrote out checks for a couple of bills, and took the time to read a magazine before it was all bent and mangled by another set of hands. Then she brought the big envelope out into the living room and turned on the radio; it was from Jacob, an old...acquaintance of hers, from back when she'd been contemplating a zoology degree and had been interning with TERN.
How strange, how exceedingly odd to be alone in the living room. How long had it been since she'd sat alone on the couch? Usually only late at night, when everyone else was fast asleep and all the doors were locked. How many times had she wished for some alone time with her mail, without an Elric pawing to see what she was reading? Now she knew she didn't know what she was wishing for. She'd given everything and this is what she got in return. She couldn't help but think that somewhere along the line she'd gotten short changed in the deal. She'd fought so hard for that trust, she'd worked so long to make things right. It ate at her in ways she hadn’t even imagined. She tilted her head back against the back of the couch and closed her eyes, it wasn't even worth the effort to fight the tears.
“Crazy lady,” she suddenly said aloud. “The one who lives alone with eighty cats.” She laughed and set the envelope down, and then she sobbed and covered her face with her hands. “Fucking insane,” she sobbed. “I'm fucking insane.”
No sanity would ever hurt like this, because a sane mind would not see this as a betrayal. It wasn't about Eddie, she'd never make it about Eddie because Eddie deserved every ounce of happiness he could gather.
She would have to learn distance and professional detachment, something she left behind long ago for the purrs of a six year old kitten. It would be hard but in the end easier. She'd just have to teach herself that.
Finally, almost angrily, she began to open the envelope from Jacob. It was large and brown, the size of a stack of 8 x 10 photographs, and she didn't doubt that it was full of just that. He was trying to do a photo documentary, her Jacob, on Elrics naturally, and sometimes he sent her the fruits of his labor.
A sheet of paper slid out as she yanked out the photos, and she pulled it into her lap to keep it from getting away from her as she flipped through the pictures. The first one was of a young Edward, looking somewhat hunted as he stalked through an unspecified brown and gray winter forest, his gold hair and somewhat damaged-looking red coat making him stand out against the drab background. The next few were an encounter between what she presumed was the same young Edward and an older one, with predictable violent results; even at the distance that Jacob had taken the photograph, the blood on the young Edward's face was as stark as the young one's coat.
"Oh, for ... Why do you send me things like this?" she murmured. She set down the pictures and unfolded the letter instead, not wanting to see a young Elric getting killed, even at several months remove and in two dimensions.
Marta,
How are you doing? You don't need to answer that. I hope everything is going well for you, anyway.
I thought you might be interested in this series I took earlier this winter. I'm still trying to document at least one of these young orphaned Edwards finding an Alphonse mate and going on to have a happily-ever-after and all that, but as you can see from the pictures, I didn't quite succeed this time, either. But isn't it interesting what that orphan got instead!
Anyway, I'll be down your way in April. I'll bring more pictures then, because I know you'll want them, so you don't have to write back and ask. And if you're willing, I want to take you to that Cretan place in Pendleton. For lunch! Just lunch. Anyway, see you then?
Jacob
Marta glanced at the stack of photographs. While she wouldn't put it totally past Jacob to send her a photo documentary of a young Edward's last minutes on this earth, she picked up the pictures anyway, and started to flip through them again.
After the three photos of the young Edward being beaten in what she presumed was a territory dispute, was another one of the same young Edward confronting yet another older Elric. Marta pursed her lips and forced herself to flip to the next one. Wild Edwards fought one another all the time. She didn't like it, and hated to see it happen, but it was completely natural behavior. And besides, Jacob's letter implied that there was more to it ...
The next picture made her feel slightly ill. The expected picture of a beatdown or killing didn't materialize, but instead there was a photo of the mature Edward dragging the young one away by the coat.
Did the younger one get eaten? Marta had never heard cannibalism among Elrics, but that didn't mean it never happened ... it just meant that it hadn't been observed.
The next photo, however, made her stare. Some unknown amount of time had passed, because there was snow on the ground that hadn't been there before. A mature Edward stood with his back to Jacob's camera, his hair in a wild fall down his back and a dead deer on the ground in front of him. And there was the younger Edward, his face heavily bruised, sitting wrapped up in the mouth of a den in front of the older one.
Another photo of the two, younger and older, golden and silvery, crouched side-by-side on a fallen tree in the snow, and looking intently at something in front of them.
Yet another, of the younger Edward dragging himself through snow drifts toward the den, where the older one crouched and looked up at him over some kind of dead animal carcass.
And then one from what appeared to be a short time later, with the older one pushing the younger one down, bright red coat like a splash of blood in the snow, to ... bite perhaps. Although if they'd been a mated pair, Marta would have presumed something other than biting going on.
She read Jacob's letter again, and then straightened up the pictures to put them back into the envelope. That was an utterly fascinating find, and she needed to ask him more about the situation when she saw him. There were no pictures of the older Edward's mate, for instance, and she'd like to know if he even had one that Jacob had seen. Why in the world would an adult Edward take in an adolescent? Surely the young orphaned Edward was not young enough for the mature one to mistake him for a kitten that needed adoption.
With the pictures halfway inside the envelope, she paused and pulled them back out to flip through again, slowly. The first few, of the orphan being violently rejected by the first adult Edward, drew her.
That was how wild Elrics lived. That was one of the ways they died, slinking off to perish of the injuries taken in a territory battle. At least, that was how Edwards often died.
Stuffing the photographs back into the envelope, Marta pushed herself up went to wash her face. The nightly routine would be handled because that was just the way it was. Out there in the wild, animals hunted and fought and lived and died, and in here in the sanctuary they still needed to eat no matter what was happening inside her head.
The Mustang was in his bed when she brought in his dinner and that was a bit surprising. She sincerely hoped he hadn't picked up another cold. His age was slowing him down now, he was more susceptible to viruses and colds than he had been in past years. He was looking his age now, his black hair threaded through with silver at the temples.
She approached him as he lay on his bed and he regarded her, making no move to get up to avoid her as she came near. His one good eye was half closed and he seemed to be breathing a bit heavy.
“Well, hey there, hey there old guy, what's the matter?” she asked gently and slowly reached over to feel his forehead. He kept watching her and gave a bit of a sigh, closed his eye when she touched his head. His temperature was normal as far as she could tell.
“Are you tired?” she asked him softly. “I'm a bit tired myself. It's hard isn't it?” She sat on the very edge of the bed and the Mustang took a deep breath but otherwise didn't move. “We're just getting used up aren't we?” she asked him. “You're an old fellow, you've been through a lot, haven't you? I guess I need to get Pete to come have a look at you.” Cautiously she reached out and rubbed up and down his arm. He gave no indication he appreciated the gesture but no indication he was offended by it, either, which was unusual. The Mustang was very opinionated, and not one to simply tolerate things. He was not overly fond of being touched, because generally it meant some sort of medical treatment he didn't care for; his apathy at touch was a bit alarming now. Marta got up slowly, went and brought the food pan to his bed, setting it at the end, along with his water bottle.
“I'll just leave this here in case you get hungry,” she told him. He didn't open his eyes and didn't turn his head to watch her as she left the room. Things were changing, everything was changing. She went to her office and called Pete, left a message for him on the clinic answering machine.
“Bet you're tired of hearing from me,” she ended it, trying to sound light hearted in a way she didn't feel.
She returned to finish up and looked up as Ling wandered into the kitchen, his internal clock was always right on time. She was making up a pan for Ed and Eddie, she kept at it, letting Ling steal bites for himself. Then she picked up the pan, left Ling rummaging thought his vegetables still on the counter and carried it into the sanctuary. She couldn't remember the last time she'd fed Ed in his enclosure. He was always at the table, beside her, across from her, always in the kitchen when dinner was being made.
Edward sat in the sharp grass while his father-Edward clambered over the metal framework in the middle of the yard. The air was cold on his face, but the pelt that his father had just made for him was cozy enough, the thick black pants protecting his rump from the frosted grass, gloves protecting his hands. His father's coat, made smaller and thicker to fit him better, wrapped him from throat to knees.
His father-Edward shook the metal bars, yanking on them hard as he climbed over the frame. "Mother put this here when I was a kitten myself," he was saying. "It's still strong, though." He settled atop it, and looked down at Edward, grinning.
Leaning forward, Edward grabbed the toe of one of his new boots. It was stiff and strong, and it fit his foot perfectly. He'd watched his father-Edward transmute it for him, out of one of his father's own shoes ... the boot neither pinched nor swamped his foot. It was marvelous.
Legs tangled in the top bars of the metal frame to steady himself, his father-Edward said, "Come play."
Edward looked up at him, fingers still on the toe of his boot. His father said again, "Come play. I bet you can't reach me up here."
The metal bars were linked together, arching up in a dome shape; it would be easy to climb them. Edward pushed himself to his feet and walked up to the framework, looking up at his father-Edward's silhouette against the white sky.
"I bet you can't reach me," said his father again, grinning.
Frowning, Edward took hold of the bars and began to climb them. It wasn't all that high, and they were fairly close together, so he didn't know what would be so hard about it. When he reached the top, however, his father-Edward deftly untangled himself and dropped down between the spaces before Edward could touch him, landing in the clear center of the dome.
"You can't catch me," said his father, looking up at him from a crouch.
Edward blinked. He rested his weight against the cold steel, protected from it by his new pelt, and peered down at his grinning father. So. That was how it was. He quickly slid his feet between the bars and then his body followed, until he was hanging by his gloved hands and dangling in space. His father-Edward scrambled to get out from inside the framework as Edward let himself drop, but was too slow; Edward pounced his leg before he could pull it through.
"Caught," Edward declared.
His father-Edward laughed and said, "Let go," but Edward gripped tighter. His father tried to pull his leg through, so Edward braced himself against the metal bars until his father was defeated, and dropped to his back on the ground outside the framework, one leg in the air.
In a moment, Edward had crawled through the bars and bounced onto his conquered father, straddling his belly and declaring again, "Caught."
"I am caught," his father-Edward acknowledged, and he laughed and touched Edward's waist.
Edward froze, and his father-Edward's grin faded. The touch on Edward's waist vanished; freed, Edward threw himself off his father and crawled a little way away.
In his father's lap ... held there ... pain ...
But he wasn't held. There was no pain, only the memory of it. His father-Edward said nothing as Edward curled up in the cold grass and huddled up, until the shaking started to go away.
He fisted his hands, in case his hands decided to clap. He knew he wouldn't be able to control it if it happened, but he could keep his palms from connecting. Maybe.
When he wasn't trembling quite so badly, he heard his father-Edward stand up behind him, and brush through the grass toward him. "It's okay, kitling," said his father, crouching beside him. Edward waited to be touched ... but there was no touch. He rubbed his cheek on the grass.
"Father," he whispered.
"It's all right," his father-Edward said again. "You don't have to be upset. Stand up, it's okay."
Edward didn't move at first, but when his father made an encouraging chirrup he began to push himself up off the cold ground. His father-Edward smiled, kneeling beside him.
"You don't have to be upset." Now his father did touch him, brushing bits of grass off his coat, and out of his hair; Edward kept his fists clenched at his sides. "I'm not going to hurt you."
Edward looked at his father, and pressed his lips together. He knew that. He knew that already ... his father-Edward wasn't going to hurt him. It had been a human all along, never his father-Edward.
That didn't help sometimes, but sometimes it did.
Eventually, he forced his right hand to un-fist, and reached out to grab his father-Edward's bangs.
"Caught," he whispered, and gave his father's hair a tug.
There was a sound in the enclosure, muffled through the door. Edward turned and looked over his shoulder; Mother was in there, looking at them through the window. When she saw that he was looking back, she turned and moved away from the glass.
"I'm hungry," said his father-Edward. "Are you hungry?"
Edward wasn't sure. He didn't like the way Mother had looked; it made him feel weird and uncomfortable, like there might be another fight. He didn't want his father to fight with Mother. Especially not about him. When he said nothing, his father-Edward pulled his hair free and stood up, dusted off his pelt and nudged Edward on the shoulder.
"Come on, kitling," he said.
It was warm inside. Edward had been out in the cold long enough for his ears and nose to chill, and the warmth burned. He rubbed at his nose; the fabric of his glove was rough on his face. The warm air carried the scent of food on it ... cooked meat and sweet fruit.
"That's funny." Edward looked up to see his father investigating a broad metal pan on one of the tables. "Mother brought us dinner here." His father picked up something from the pan and put it into his mouth, and then shrugged and picked up the whole thing to transfer it to the floor in front of Edward. "We can eat in here, I guess."
Edward sat down on the floor as his father reached over to unbutton his coat and tug the gloves off his hands. As the gloves came free, he reached toward the food, then hesitated.
"It's all right," his father said. Edward's gloves were dropped on the floor beside him.
There was meat and fruit and chunks of raw vegetables. The meat was still warm, and the fruit cool. Edward's father lay on his back on the floor while Edward ate first, stretching out lazily with his arms over his head.
"I don't want you to be afraid," said Edward's father softly, after a little while.
Edward paused, fingers in his mouth, and looked that way; his father had lowered one hand to press against his side. "I'm going to make you not afraid of me."
Edward licked his fingers. His father turned to look back at him, and flashed him a grin, but it wasn't as bright of a grin as before, and then began to pick food off the pan for himself.
Was he afraid? Edward didn't feel afraid right then, but he knew he had been for a moment, outside. There'd been no reason for it ... his father-Edward hadn't been doing anything alarming. He'd chosen to pounce on his father's belly; his father had not made him do that. It had just seemed like the right thing to do, and there hadn't been anything frightening about it until that touch had landed on his waist.
He hadn't been hurt for a long time. Since he'd come here, in fact ... since Mother had brought him here. This was a safe place. Mother and his father-Edward kept telling him that, and it really was true. Even the black-haired animal, whose scent was thick in this room, hadn't hurt him.
Even so, it had been so much easier to want to touch and cuddle with his father in that evil place, where his father's hands had been bound.
When everything in the pan was gone, his father-Edward started to stretch out again, then winced and rolled over onto his side instead, one hand clasped to his other flank. "Do you want to go back outside?" he asked.
Edward shook his head a little, and his father quirked his lip. "Maybe into the house? We can see if Mother is doing anything interesting."
The look on Mother's face when he'd seen her through the window ... Edward looked down at his hands. If they saw Mother, she and his father-Edward would fight again. Over him.
"Kitling," said his father, voice low. "What's the matter?"
Worrying his fingers together, Edward hunched over a bit on himself. His father-Edward sighed, but didn't press him. "Well, if you don't want to go outside, and you don't want to go into the house, I guess we can stay here."
His father rolled to his feet, hissing a bit as he stood up, and went over to one of the shelves in the corner to retrieve a couple of books. One was given to Edward, and his father kept the other, lying down nearby once again.
Most of the books that Edward was given felt wrong, somehow ... not right. The ones that Mother gave him usually were full of colorful pictures, which were nice enough to look at, but were unsatisfying at the same time. The ones his father-Edward usually brought to him lacked pictures, and were slightly more interesting, but still weren't quite right.
The one that was dropped in front of him now was fascinating. Human words meant so little to him, generally, but some were more interesting than others: covalent, tungsten, lanthanides. He stared at the pages, eyes flipping rapidly down them.
He was a third of the way through the book, scanning the pages for the interesting words, when a soft noise summoned him out of it. It was a breathy sound that made him stiffen with the memory of lingering pain, and fear at waking the human who had owned him.
There was no human here, however. As he glanced around, careful not to move much and make any noises, that was easy to see. It was only himself, and his father-Edward.
Who had fallen asleep across his own book.
Edward stared. His father's eyes were definitely closed, and his lips were slightly parted; it was breathing through his mouth that made that steady, soft sound. His father's cheek was pressed to the open book, one hand lax across the pages, and he was half-curled on his side.
Sitting in silence with his father-Edward while his father was awake had been comfortable and safe. Sitting in silence with his father inert and sleeping didn't feel quite so comfortable.
He may as well have been alone.
The metal pan was between them. Edward pushed it to the side, and pushed his own book aside as well, crawling silently toward his father. The elder Elric didn't wake, and made no sound when Edward began to touch his arm. He didn't move, didn't twitch, not even when Edward cuddled up to his father's belly, hands fisting in his father's pelt.
That was better. He could smell his father now, feel his warmth, and yet his father-Edward was asleep and not touching him. Edward could do all the touching he wanted, and fear no reciprocation.
He didn't know how long he remained awake like that before he fell asleep himself.
Warnings: Rape, kitten abuse, NC-17 in parts
Previous: [Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Chapter Three] [Chapter Four] [Chapter Five] [Chapter Six] [Chapter Seven]
Marta sorted the last of the mail, putting the largest envelope on top of her desk for later, non-distracted attention, and ran her fingers through her hair. She slapped the top of the desk and decided to go check on Ed and Eddie and see how things were going. As she walked down the hall she glanced into Ed and Ling's enclosure and saw Ed on the bed. He was curled up on his side around what seemed to be a bundle of coat.
He didn't.
Marta paused at the door of the enclosure and tried the knob. It turned easily.
“Ed?” she said, and he lifted his head and turned to look at her, his brows dipping in the middle. “What are you doing, Ed?” she asked.
Ed immediately adopted a look of innocence and casually fingered a pillow on the bed. He pulled it over to him, easing it up on the bundle he was currently huddled around. He laid his head on it lightly and gave her an exaggerated yawn and smacked his lips; he even put his eyes to half mast and made a sleepy chirrup at her.
Marta came over to the bed and looked down at him. Ed smiled charmingly at her and rubbed the side of her leg with his foot. He began to purr at her and rubbed his cheek on the pillow. The pillow rose up and moved on its own. Ed looked at it momentarily and then up at Marta, sucking in his lower lip.
Marta reached down gripped the pillow, and slowly pulled it away from Ed. The coat wadded up in Ed's arms shifted again slightly. A small sigh was heard from within. Marta leaned over to touch the coat and Ed kissed her outstretched hand; when she kept moving it he clamped his teeth lightly over the side of her little finger.
“Ed,” Marta said with a light warning tone. Ed tried to make his eyes bigger than his face and he sucked a little on the side of her finger.
Marta gave her hand a tug, then another, harder one. Ed released her finger and Marta gently pushed the coat open a bit. Inside, as she suspected, was curled Eddie. He was asleep, (and this was the only thing that saved Ed from an instant verbal smack down) , and curled on his side against Ed's chest. His nose twitched a little, but he settled again. Marta pulled the coat back up to block the light.
“You are just lucky he is asleep,” Marta hissed quietly to Ed. Ed's eyes widened a touch. “Very, very lucky. But when he is awake, your luck has run out. Do not think for a moment this is the end of this. I told you that you could talk to Eddie in his enclosure; your enclosure makes him uncomfortable.”
This blatant, open defiance made Marta all kinds of angry. To let Ed win this round by leaving Eddie here in his bed was not acceptable. She put one knee up on the bed and began to try and ease her arms around the pelt-wrapped kitten.
Ed stiffened and made a low whine that threatened to grow in volume, and Eddie tensed visibly. His mouth drew down hard. Marta froze, and after a few indeterminately long moments, Eddie settled again. Defeated, Marta eased back off the bed and glared down at Ed, who didn't even have the decency to look contrite.
There was nothing for it, moving Eddie now would only wake him. She pointed at Ed and then turned and left the enclosure, pulling the door closed quietly behind her. She glared at Ed for effect from the picture window before leaving the pair of Edwards to nap.
She checked on them periodically and when the nap had gone on for a good two hours she felt justified in breaking it up. After all, if she let Eddie sleep all day he wouldn't sleep that night. She came back in the enclosure and walked over to the dozing pair. The sight was enough to almost make her forget her anger at Ed. Eddie had wiggled out of the coat at some point; it sagged down around his waist. His small head was tucked under Ed's chin and Ed had one arm draped lightly over him. Marta sighed and shook her head. It had always been hard to be angry with Ed; this made it even more difficult. But she had to be firm. Ed was too smart, and he would quickly take advantage of any weakness.
She gripped Ed's arm and moved it. Ed snorted and rolled over, and wiped at his nose. Eddie stirred then, mewed softly as his heat source abandoned him. Marta gently scooped him up and brought him against her own chest, rubbing his small back.
“Time to get up sleepy head,” she sing-songed to the kitten, starting for the door. “Can't be a slug-a-bed all day. Want some juice, baby?”
She left the enclosure and headed for the kitchen, passing Ling in the hall. Eddie was still groggy and had his cheek on her shoulder; he barely gave Ling a glance.
“Ed is in your room,” she told Ling. “He's on the bed,” she winked.
Ok, perhaps that was a dirty tactic, but Ed certainly had it coming.
Ling stopped and looked in through the picture window. A slow smile spread over his features and he grabbed the outer curtains on either side and jerked them shut. He hurried around the corner to the door and slipped in, pulling it closed quietly behind him. His mate lay sprawled on their bed, snoring softly. Ling padded over to the bed and toed off his slippers. He noticed his mate's coat wadded there and picked it up and tossed it over his shoulder to get it out of his way. He crawled up beside Ed and lowered himself on his side. Ed was sleep-flushed and his hair was splayed out over the blanket beneath him. Ling ran a hand slowly down his chest, stopping to worry open the buttons of his vest as he did so. Ed muttered softly and licked his lips, snuffled once. Ling lowered his face, ran the tip of his nose along Ed's jaw. His hand slid even lower, nimble fingers released the button of Ed's trousers, and then wormed their way beneath the waist band. Ed started to purr sketchily, he turned his head away from the ticklish touch along his jaw.
Ling pushed his hand further into Ed's trousers, beneath the waist band of his boxers and scratched lightly through thick curls. Ed sighed lushly and arched a bit, his eyes half opened for a moment, but then sank back closed. Ling pushed his fingers lower, skated them over Ed's cock and smiled with satisfaction at both the twitch there and the sudden intake of breath. He continued the light touches up and down the length of his mate's penis, stopping to lightly pinch the head and finger the slit.
Ed arched his back up, pulled his knees up and spread them wantonly. He muttered unintelligible things and his purr grew louder with each stroke of Ling's long, deft fingers.
“I have missed you, I have missed this,” Ling said softly to his lover's sleepy visage. He began to work Ed's pants open further, rolled them down onto his thighs, followed by his boxers. Ed sniffled and blinked, made a sleepy inquiry that was still mostly gibberish. Ling ran his fingers under Ed's now hardened cock and lifted it up. He lowered his lips, kissed the flushed head, and his lover gasped loudly. Ling's tongue dragged slowly across the head of Ed's penis and Ed came to wakefulness.
“M..mate? Fuck that's good,” Ed gasped and tilted his hips up for more. He dragged his fingers down Ling's back and gave a happy, lustful sigh. “More,” he purred. “Suck me lover.”
Ling rumbled, just those few simple words had his own cock straining against his pants. He opened his mouth to comply but checked himself. Why? Why should be he be giving into any of Ed's demands, (no matter how sexily they were delivered), when Ed had kept him at arm's length for so long? It should be Ed crawling up Ling's body, asking forgiveness, begging with his hot mouth and tongue, and his ass in the air. Yes, high in the air, inviting.
Ed suddenly stiffened under him, he patted frantically around on the bed and then his palm hit the side of Ling's head, shoved him away as Ed sat up.
“Where is my KITTEN?” Ed cried. “What have you done with him?” Ed looked around the room wildly.
“OW,” Ling complained, reaching up to rub his head. “He's not here, lay back down so I can put my mouth on you,” he coaxed.
“Where did he go?” Ed said, sliding off the bed. He stopped to yank his pants and boxers back up and noticed his coat lying on the floor. “He left my coat! Did he just walk out on his own? Why didn't you wake me up?!” Ed accused, buttoning his pants and running for the door. He stopped at looked back at Ling who was still sitting on the edge of the bed. His lover didn't look very happy, in fact he looked rather angry, and Ed felt a pang of guilt over it...but where was his kitten?! He was too little, too volatile yet to be wondering around on his own. “Which way did he go?” Ed begged Ling.
“The way mother carried him,” Ling said flatly and then flopped back on the bed.
Marta had introduced Eddie to the sipper cup. Now the kitten had a mix of fresh fruit juice in his cup and was sitting at the table sucking on the spout. There was a sudden noise at the doorway that made them both turn their heads. Eddie made a sound around his mouth full of cup and Marta scowled. Ed was panting slightly, he looked a bit wild eyed and disheveled. His eyes fixed on Eddie and he pushed off the door jamb and started across the kitchen. Marta stepped in front of Eddie, turned and lifted him into her arms. Ed stopped short, snorted and held out his own arms. Marta stepped around him and walked out of the kitchen. Eddie, still firmly attached to his sipper cup, turned his head to look at Ed over Marta's shoulder as she headed down the hall. Ed trailed after her, she could hear him huffing angrily at her back, but she didn't change her pace. She went to Eddie's enclosure and opened the door. She took the kitten in, deposited him on the floor near his pile of toys and turned around to see his irate foster parent standing there, eyeing her.
“I need to speak to you in the hall,” she told Ed evenly, put a hand on his chest and pushed him backwards. Ed sputtered, looked at Eddie over Marta's shoulder, but retreated. Marta turned and pulled the door of Eddie's enclosure closed and then regarded Ed for another moment. The look of surprise on his face was priceless when she reached up and grabbed him by the ponytail, twisting it hard in her fist.
“You come with me,” she hissed. “We have things to discuss.”
He had little choice. Tears were welling in the corner of his eyes, his head was bowed forward and he couldn't see where they were going. Marta stopped in a doorway and dragged him forward, shoved him hard and he stumbled into her bedroom, almost fell over onto the bed. He straightened up and whirled around as she shut the door.
“Who do you think you ARE?!” she yelled, jabbing a finger in Ed's face. He backpedaled, the back of his knees hit the bed and he sat hard, stared up at her.
“I TOLD you that Eddie isn't comfortable in your enclosure, I also TOLD you that you could stay with Eddie in HIS enclosure,” Marta put her hands on her hips and leaned forward a little. “What do you have to say for yourself?”
Apparently Ed had a lot to say for himself, because he launched into a verbal tirade of his own, scowling up at her. He was getting so willful, everyone was right; she'd spoiled him rotten.
The door to his enclosure had barely closed before Edward was tugging on the knob. Mother said something outside the door, and he flinched back, but whatever it was didn't result in the door opening again. After a few minutes of silence, he resumed tugging on the knob.
His door was usually stuck. No amount of tugging or twisting would open a stuck door, but this time it wasn't, and the knob turned easily once he put enough effort into it.
The hallway was empty, and the scents were too strong and confused for him to follow them, but he knew that one direction lead only to other enclosures, while the other lead to the house. There was no reason to think that Mother and his father-Edward would go toward the other enclosures.
It was only a few steps down the hallway before it occurred to him that he'd never been allowed to wander around alone before, and he probably wasn't supposed to be wandering around alone now. He paused, unsure of himself, feeling abruptly vulnerable without Mother or his father-Edward with him. It had been a long time since he'd been out by himself ... when he was alone, he was usually locked in his enclosure or (before that, long ago) collared and leashed to keep him from going anywhere.
He wasn't collared now. He wasn't locked in a room.
He clenched his fists, and resumed his stealthy creep down the hallway.
The door to the house was very familiar to him, and he'd never seen Mother have to pause there to get it unstuck. He was about to tug on the knob to open it when he realized that he was right next to the other room, the one his father-Edward had taken him to. The place where his father had forced him to stay through his fear, until he'd worn himself out and slept.
That was where he'd last seen his father-Edward's coat. If it was that close, Edward decided that he wanted it back. The door was open already, and he trotted inside to look for the coat.
The scents hit him immediately when he entered ... the black-haired animal, his father-Edward, the reek of punishment. It was fresh now, and he drew back toward the doorway, but no one was being punished there now. The room appeared to be empty ...
"... what are you doing here?"
... but it wasn't.
What Edward had originally taken to be a pile of pelts on the bed began to unfold itself and sit up. He drew back; the black-haired animal frightened him, because it was strange, neither human nor Elric. It did things to his father-Edward, touching him with its hands and mouth, and sometimes Edward's father carried that disquieting smell that always accompanied punishment when this creature was around.
He could see his father-Edward's coat on the floor, between himself and the other animal.
"You're not supposed to be wandering around," said the black-haired animal. "Mother will be angry at you. Wait. Never mind, wander around all you want. I want to see her catch you."
The animal was angry at him; if Edward had any doubts left from the tone of its voice, he had only to peek up at the annoyed slant of its eyebrows to confirm it. He'd only just entered the room a moment ago, and it was already angry with him ... Had he somehow barged in on its territory? A surreptitious glance to either side betrayed no sign of territorial markings, and at any rate his father-Edward had carried him in here earlier. Twice. His father-Edward would not carry him into another animal's territory, surely.
His eyes fell to the coat on the floor once more.
The other animal noticed, and looked toward the coat also. "What, are you wanting his pelt back?" It rearranged the pillows on the bed and lay down on its side. "Go ahead. Take it. You may as well. You've got everything else, take his pelt, too."
Edward crouched, and then went down onto his hands and knees. He didn't like that the other animal was giving him permission ... was it a predator? Surely his father-Edward would have killed it, or driven it away forever at least, if it was ... but what else could it be? It wasn't human, wasn't Elric, wasn't a lower animal, and Edward had no classification for it. What if it was just tricking him into coming closer?
What if it wanted to ... Edward swallowed. The room did smell strongly of this animal, and punishment. His father-Edward wasn't here to protect him this time.
The other animal gave him a narrow look. "What's the matter? I told you to come take it."
Edward swallowed and licked his lips. He wanted to ask the creature what it was ... and perhaps more than that ... and he even opened his mouth a little to do it. But then he looked up at the black-haired animal's forbidding scowl, and his courage withered.
In the end, he broke and ran, fleeing out the door without his father-Edward's coat while the other animal made surprised-sounding demands at his back. "What? I told you ... Where are you going? Come back here!"
The door to the house opened immediately to Edward's frantic tugging, and he tore through the hallway, into the living room and through it, into the kitchen. He stopped there, heart racing, and hid behind the counter in the middle of the kitchen, listening for any sign of pursuit.
There was none, but he did hear his father-Edward's voice, raised in anger. Muffled, as if his father was behind something, but clear, and close.
Edward didn't want to hear that. He didn't want his father to be angry ... he didn't want to be nearby when his father was angry. His father-Edward's anger scared him, made him want to crawl under something and hide.
Going back, however, would mean walking past that black-haired animal again. It might have come out of the other enclosure by now ...
Edward wished he'd never left his own enclosure.
His father-Edward's voice echoed in from down the other hallway.
"He is my kitten! My kitten! I will take care of him, I will protect him! You can't protect him the way I can!"
A pause, and then, "Humans are the ones who did this to him! You told me yourself! He told me! A human mated with him, it was no Elric who did that!"
Edward's father was furious, and the sound of his rage made Edward shiver. Nevertheless, he began to crawl, on his hands and knees, down the hallway toward the sound of his father's voice. He wanted the yelling to stop; he wanted his father to protect him from the black-haired animal, and from the emptiness of the rest of the house.
"I can protect him! I can take care of him! I'll make sure no human ever hurts my kitten again!"
And, in the pause that followed, Edward realized that he could hear Mother's voice in the pauses, now that he was halfway down the hallway. She spoke in the pause, more quietly than his father-Edward.
"I know you keep saying [my kitten], and I know that means Eddie, what is it Ed? Do you think I'm not taking care of Eddie? Is that it? Do you think I can't?"
"No, you can't!" yelled Edward's father back, far more emphatically than the way Mother was speaking. "You don't know what my kitten needs! He needs to be held, he needs to be petted! I haven't even heard him purring yet!"
"Stop shouting," said Mother. "That isn't going to accomplish anything. I know Eddie is your [my kitten], but I am responsible for you both. I take care of you and Eddie, and if I tell you not to do something Ed, then don't do it. I don't know what's gotten into you. I've been very proud of you, you've really helped out ... but Ed, I am in charge, not you. Listen to me, I'm the boss, alright?"
A hesitation. Edward crept along the wall of the hallway until he reached one of the closed doors. Mother's voice and his father's were coming from behind it. "You can't tell me what to do with my kitten," said his father, after a moment. "He is my kitten! Mine! I know what is best for him. He is talking to me, Mother!" Edward's father's voice shaded toward a whine. "He talked to me! Isn't that good? Doesn't that mean I know what's best?"
"Ed, if you keep on like this...what can I do?" Mother's voice paused again. "I can tell you are very passionate about Eddie, but I can't let it continue to the point where you will openly and willfully defy me. I just can't. I don't understand why I was good enough to raise you but somehow you think I'm not good enough to raise Eddie. Here we go, the point where everyone thinks I'm crazy for putting so much faith into your understanding. Do you understand a word of this? Do you know what I'm saying? Well I'm giving you the benefit of the doubt you do. I'll tell you this, I'm hurt. I'm hurt you seem to think I'm not good enough for your [my kitten]. But I will not stand by and let you do as you please, you are not in charge here, I am. Please don't make me do something I don't want to do."
Another silent hesitation. Edward curled up beside the closed door; he was glad that his father-Edward was not yelling anymore. "I understand you," said Edward's father. "I want to make you understand me. He is my kitten. I will take care of him. I will not let you take him away from me."
"Ed, I know you love Eddie, and I can't tell you how happy that makes me. Don't push this issue. I decide what does and doesn't happen here. That is how it's going to be."
"No, it isn't!" said Edward's father, at the top of his voice once more, and Edward clapped his hands over his ears to block some of the sound. "He talked to me! He talked to m--"
The final word was cut off by a sharp sound, and Edward scrambled to his feet. He knew that sound, knew it intimately. He pawed at the doorknob and tugged the door open.
"Father!" he wailed, although he didn't know which one of them had cuffed the other one.
His father-Edward was in a half-crouch of submission, his head turned slightly to one side, but he was quick enough to catch Edward when the younger Elric flung himself into his arms. "Kitling," he said, confused. "What are you doing here?"
"Father, no!" Edward wailed into his father-Edward's elbow. "Don't fight! Don't fight!"
"Eddie, how did you get out of your room?" asked Mother, kneeling down beside them; Edward wailed more when he felt Mother's hand start to stroke through his hair. "Baby, you came all the way here from your room by yourself?"
"No, kitling," murmured his father-Edward. "It's all right. Why did you come here?"
His father's arms went around him, and Edward keened harder. Everything was wrong about this ... everything was going wrong. Mother and his father-Edward weren't supposed to be fighting. Nobody was supposed to be cuffing anyone else. Why was this happening?
"It's alright," soothed Mother. "Don't cry, baby. You heard us arguing didn't you? It's scared you."
"Why did you come here?" asked his father-Edward again.
"Father," whispered Edward. How could he explain? There weren't words in the world to explain how he didn't want to be alone right now. Without his father-Edward, without Mother ... without even his father's coat.
Mother's hand left Edward's hair as she stood up. "Ed," she said, "let's take Eddie back to his room, all right?"
"No," said Edward's father immediately.
There was silence behind Edward for a moment, and he rubbed his face on his father's arm. When Mother spoke again, her voice was low. "What will you do the next time something frightens him?" she asked. "Will you be there to stop him? What will you do if he kills someone? What will you do, Ed?"
"He won't --" began his father-Edward, but Mother interrupted.
"There are humans who have asked me, over and over again, to kill Eddie because of what he has done. There are humans who want Eddie dead. I have protected Eddie from other humans, but you need to protect Eddie from me? Tell me Ed, will you be responsible if Kate frightens Eddie and he kills her? What about Ling? What will you do, Ed?"
"I'll be with him." Edward's father stroked his hair and back, and Edward shivered. "I'll be with him. He talked to me. He slept next to me. Mother, just let me try!"
Edward didn't understand any of this. Most of what Mother said, in the language of humans, meant nothing to him, and what his father-Edward was saying made no sense. They were arguing, he understood that much, and it was about him ... one of them had cuffed the other earlier. Had something happened? Had he done something bad? He had left his enclosure, unaccompanied ...
"I don't know what to do," said Mother eventually. "Keeping him from you is cruel, keeping you from him is cruel. It's on me, if something happens. They will take Eddie away, Ed. They will take me away, and you will probably go to a zoo. Ling to the emperor...but what can I do?"
"Nothing will happen," said Edward's father.
The proximity of his father-Edward's body, the closeness with which he was being held, suddenly felt overpowering, and Edward jerked, striking his father with a fist to be released. His father-Edward let him go and Edward fell back onto his rump, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. Mother was standing over them, but she didn't look angry now. Neither did his father; when Edward looked toward the elder Elric, his father-Edward gave him a cocky grin.
"Let's go outside," his father said.
Mother stepped back when Edward's father reached for him. Edward did not understand, but he raised his arms anyway to be lifted. Outside? He'd gone outside already that morning, and it was cold and unpleasant out there. It always was, when they'd had the routine of having to leave the sanctuary to see his father-Edward.
"Ed," sighed Mother. "Don't be lifting him, too ..."
"Come on, kitling," said his father-Edward. He hissed as he hoisted Edward up.
Mother's voice was sharp then. "Ed!" she said. "Ed, you're hurt, aren't you?"
She tried to take Eddie away, then, taking him under the arms to pull him away from his father-Edward. Edward's father said, "No," and tried to keep a grip on Edward, but then he yelped for no reason Edward could discern and let go. In a moment of confusion, Edward found himself transferred to Mother's hip, one of her arms around him and her other hand holding his father-Edward by the wrist.
"Come on, don't fight me," she said. "I bet you've ripped your stitches. If it's not one thing it's another lately, and I think I'm losing my mind. I told Charles I should have opted for the normal life."
They were still fighting. Edward's father whined and reached for Edward, but Mother turned to keep him out of reach, and pulled Edward's father with her when she left the room. Edward didn't like all this conflict.
"That's my kitten!" his father-Edward said, as he was dragged along behind them. "I'm not hurt, I'm fine, there's no reason to take my kitten away!"
Fingers fisting in Mother's sleeve, Edward rested his forehead against Mother's arm. They were fighting about him.
Marta set Eddie on his feet in the infirmary, then pulled Ed over to one of the beds and pushed him to sit on it. She began to undo the buttons of his vest and then his shirt beneath. Ed keep whining and talking and looking at Eddie. He tried once to push Marta's hands away but she ignored him, pulled his shirt out of his pants and made him lift his arm so she could examine his side. She gave a slight hiss at the sight and fingered the edges of the bandaged.
“Pete will kill me if you get another infection, dammit Ed,” she said. “You sit right here, don't you dare get up.” She stepped away, gave him a warning look and then headed over to the cabinets. Ed held a hand out to Eddie who regarded him mournfully. Eddie looked toward Marta, then back to Ed before reaching out and letting Ed grip his small hand and pull him over. Ed leaned over him then, speaking softly and stroking his hair. Marta pulled out gauze, tape and antiseptic, bringing it back to sit on a table beside the bed. She sincerely hoped she wouldn’t have to do any re-stitching.
“You need to take your medicine as well,” she said, ripping open the packages of sterile gauze. Ed ignored her in favor of petting on Eddie, but Eddie glanced up at her, small face worried and mouth in a frown.
Marta gripped Eddie's elbow and tugged him away, grabbed Ed's hand to keep him from reaching for him again. It was a double edged sword; Ed's involvement with Eddie was total and whole-hearted, and that wasn't a bad thing. His blindness to everything around him that wasn't Eddie was; she wasn't sure how to handle it. She would allow Ed to play parent, it was what Eddie needed, but she worried about Ed's obsessive way of going about it. Ling was conspicuous by his absence. She remembered them being inseparable, now she rarely saw them together. Ed was shoving everything away; alienating his mate...even her. She shouldn't feel this way but she couldn't help it.
Marta gently peeled the soiled bandage from Ed's side and inspected the stitches there as he hissed and whined. There was some blood seepage and the area was a bit red, but it didn't look bad. She got some antiseptic on a gauze pad and looked at Ed.
“This will sting,” she told him, “hold still.” She pressed the pad over the area and he gasped a breath and shook. She was matter of fact and efficient about it. She tossed the used pad up on the table and went about making a fresh bandage for the wound. She got it taped into place despite Ed's squirming and muttered protests. Eddie stood by silently during the entire process, looking alternately between the two adults. Marta checked Ed's shoulder as well, but it was healing up nicely and the stitches could probably be removed. But one thing at a time.
Ed pushed her hands away, grabbed up his shirt and pulled it on slowly, belying the enthusiasm in his voice as he chattered to Eddie. Marta went about cleaning up the table and throwing away the wrappers the gauze had been in. There were no tears to soothe, there wasn't a back to rub and golden hair to murmur into with comfort. Ed was pushing her aside. He seemed to do it so easily. She wadded the gauzing wrapper in her fist tightly, took a deep breath and threw it in the bin. He was an animal after all; she'd served her purpose as his parent. She'd raised him, taught him, sheltered him; and now he was ready to be rid of her. Just like that.
To live so simplistically; practicality was prevalent in the animal kingdom, anyone who'd studied any species knew this for a fact. They picked up and moved on, they might appear to grieve but did they really? She'd often argued in favor of the theory that Alphonses grieved themselves to death over lost Edward mates. But Edwards could and would live on in most instances. Perhaps as moody loners, and not for very long, but they did live on. So, was she relegated to the role of sibling after all? Ed had outgrown her? This was idiocy, wasn't it? She brought all this on herself. All this pain settling in her chest was her own doing after all for assigning intelligence and emotion to an animal.
“Don't you dare pick him up,” she snapped as Ed bent to do just that. Eddie flinched and looked at her and she regretted it. Ed snorted and made to put his hands under Eddie's arms.
“Ed, if you pick him up I will strap you to a table,” she said. “I mean it, you just try me. Now take him by the hand and lead him, you are injured. If you won't take care of yourself you force me to. I'm tired of fighting you tonight.” She strode angrily to the cabinet and yanked it open, pulled out a bottle of sedative, yanked a drawer open for a needle. She glanced back at them and Ed was holding Eddie by the hand and the younger Elric was pressed to the adult's leg. Ed regarded her with a faintly baffled expression, then he looked toward the infirmary door, down at Eddie, then strode toward it. Eddie churned his small legs to keep up with Ed's longer strides. She didn't stop them, she let them go. She put the sedative and needle away, shutting the drawer and putting her hands on the cabinet.
She'd given up her life for this cause, she'd done it willingly. She had no regrets. She'd always heard there were rewards, and there were rewards, truly...every successful release was a reward of itself. But there had been something else; no...thinking like this was self-serving and irrational. She was surprised to see a spot of wetness strike the countertop. She had things to do, there was no time for her to be standing around.
Leaving the infirmary, she walked down the hall into the sanctuary proper. She saw Ed with Eddie inside Ed's enclosure. Ed was picking through things about the enclosure. He had blankets from his and Ling's bed on the floor, a couple of pillows had joined them and he was eyeing the curtains that hung beside the window to his outside enclosure. Eddie stood at his side, looking up at the adult Elric.
Ed was going to transmute pelts. It would be just as well for Eddie to see alchemy used for something other than death. She should stay and watch, but she didn't. She resumed her walk though the sanctuary. She went into the house proper.
There were a few things she had been putting off, so she did them now, while none of the animals needed her attention: did the dishes, cleaned out the refrigerator, straightened the living room. She wrote out checks for a couple of bills, and took the time to read a magazine before it was all bent and mangled by another set of hands. Then she brought the big envelope out into the living room and turned on the radio; it was from Jacob, an old...acquaintance of hers, from back when she'd been contemplating a zoology degree and had been interning with TERN.
How strange, how exceedingly odd to be alone in the living room. How long had it been since she'd sat alone on the couch? Usually only late at night, when everyone else was fast asleep and all the doors were locked. How many times had she wished for some alone time with her mail, without an Elric pawing to see what she was reading? Now she knew she didn't know what she was wishing for. She'd given everything and this is what she got in return. She couldn't help but think that somewhere along the line she'd gotten short changed in the deal. She'd fought so hard for that trust, she'd worked so long to make things right. It ate at her in ways she hadn’t even imagined. She tilted her head back against the back of the couch and closed her eyes, it wasn't even worth the effort to fight the tears.
“Crazy lady,” she suddenly said aloud. “The one who lives alone with eighty cats.” She laughed and set the envelope down, and then she sobbed and covered her face with her hands. “Fucking insane,” she sobbed. “I'm fucking insane.”
No sanity would ever hurt like this, because a sane mind would not see this as a betrayal. It wasn't about Eddie, she'd never make it about Eddie because Eddie deserved every ounce of happiness he could gather.
She would have to learn distance and professional detachment, something she left behind long ago for the purrs of a six year old kitten. It would be hard but in the end easier. She'd just have to teach herself that.
Finally, almost angrily, she began to open the envelope from Jacob. It was large and brown, the size of a stack of 8 x 10 photographs, and she didn't doubt that it was full of just that. He was trying to do a photo documentary, her Jacob, on Elrics naturally, and sometimes he sent her the fruits of his labor.
A sheet of paper slid out as she yanked out the photos, and she pulled it into her lap to keep it from getting away from her as she flipped through the pictures. The first one was of a young Edward, looking somewhat hunted as he stalked through an unspecified brown and gray winter forest, his gold hair and somewhat damaged-looking red coat making him stand out against the drab background. The next few were an encounter between what she presumed was the same young Edward and an older one, with predictable violent results; even at the distance that Jacob had taken the photograph, the blood on the young Edward's face was as stark as the young one's coat.
"Oh, for ... Why do you send me things like this?" she murmured. She set down the pictures and unfolded the letter instead, not wanting to see a young Elric getting killed, even at several months remove and in two dimensions.
Marta,
How are you doing? You don't need to answer that. I hope everything is going well for you, anyway.
I thought you might be interested in this series I took earlier this winter. I'm still trying to document at least one of these young orphaned Edwards finding an Alphonse mate and going on to have a happily-ever-after and all that, but as you can see from the pictures, I didn't quite succeed this time, either. But isn't it interesting what that orphan got instead!
Anyway, I'll be down your way in April. I'll bring more pictures then, because I know you'll want them, so you don't have to write back and ask. And if you're willing, I want to take you to that Cretan place in Pendleton. For lunch! Just lunch. Anyway, see you then?
Jacob
Marta glanced at the stack of photographs. While she wouldn't put it totally past Jacob to send her a photo documentary of a young Edward's last minutes on this earth, she picked up the pictures anyway, and started to flip through them again.
After the three photos of the young Edward being beaten in what she presumed was a territory dispute, was another one of the same young Edward confronting yet another older Elric. Marta pursed her lips and forced herself to flip to the next one. Wild Edwards fought one another all the time. She didn't like it, and hated to see it happen, but it was completely natural behavior. And besides, Jacob's letter implied that there was more to it ...
The next picture made her feel slightly ill. The expected picture of a beatdown or killing didn't materialize, but instead there was a photo of the mature Edward dragging the young one away by the coat.
Did the younger one get eaten? Marta had never heard cannibalism among Elrics, but that didn't mean it never happened ... it just meant that it hadn't been observed.
The next photo, however, made her stare. Some unknown amount of time had passed, because there was snow on the ground that hadn't been there before. A mature Edward stood with his back to Jacob's camera, his hair in a wild fall down his back and a dead deer on the ground in front of him. And there was the younger Edward, his face heavily bruised, sitting wrapped up in the mouth of a den in front of the older one.
Another photo of the two, younger and older, golden and silvery, crouched side-by-side on a fallen tree in the snow, and looking intently at something in front of them.
Yet another, of the younger Edward dragging himself through snow drifts toward the den, where the older one crouched and looked up at him over some kind of dead animal carcass.
And then one from what appeared to be a short time later, with the older one pushing the younger one down, bright red coat like a splash of blood in the snow, to ... bite perhaps. Although if they'd been a mated pair, Marta would have presumed something other than biting going on.
She read Jacob's letter again, and then straightened up the pictures to put them back into the envelope. That was an utterly fascinating find, and she needed to ask him more about the situation when she saw him. There were no pictures of the older Edward's mate, for instance, and she'd like to know if he even had one that Jacob had seen. Why in the world would an adult Edward take in an adolescent? Surely the young orphaned Edward was not young enough for the mature one to mistake him for a kitten that needed adoption.
With the pictures halfway inside the envelope, she paused and pulled them back out to flip through again, slowly. The first few, of the orphan being violently rejected by the first adult Edward, drew her.
That was how wild Elrics lived. That was one of the ways they died, slinking off to perish of the injuries taken in a territory battle. At least, that was how Edwards often died.
Stuffing the photographs back into the envelope, Marta pushed herself up went to wash her face. The nightly routine would be handled because that was just the way it was. Out there in the wild, animals hunted and fought and lived and died, and in here in the sanctuary they still needed to eat no matter what was happening inside her head.
The Mustang was in his bed when she brought in his dinner and that was a bit surprising. She sincerely hoped he hadn't picked up another cold. His age was slowing him down now, he was more susceptible to viruses and colds than he had been in past years. He was looking his age now, his black hair threaded through with silver at the temples.
She approached him as he lay on his bed and he regarded her, making no move to get up to avoid her as she came near. His one good eye was half closed and he seemed to be breathing a bit heavy.
“Well, hey there, hey there old guy, what's the matter?” she asked gently and slowly reached over to feel his forehead. He kept watching her and gave a bit of a sigh, closed his eye when she touched his head. His temperature was normal as far as she could tell.
“Are you tired?” she asked him softly. “I'm a bit tired myself. It's hard isn't it?” She sat on the very edge of the bed and the Mustang took a deep breath but otherwise didn't move. “We're just getting used up aren't we?” she asked him. “You're an old fellow, you've been through a lot, haven't you? I guess I need to get Pete to come have a look at you.” Cautiously she reached out and rubbed up and down his arm. He gave no indication he appreciated the gesture but no indication he was offended by it, either, which was unusual. The Mustang was very opinionated, and not one to simply tolerate things. He was not overly fond of being touched, because generally it meant some sort of medical treatment he didn't care for; his apathy at touch was a bit alarming now. Marta got up slowly, went and brought the food pan to his bed, setting it at the end, along with his water bottle.
“I'll just leave this here in case you get hungry,” she told him. He didn't open his eyes and didn't turn his head to watch her as she left the room. Things were changing, everything was changing. She went to her office and called Pete, left a message for him on the clinic answering machine.
“Bet you're tired of hearing from me,” she ended it, trying to sound light hearted in a way she didn't feel.
She returned to finish up and looked up as Ling wandered into the kitchen, his internal clock was always right on time. She was making up a pan for Ed and Eddie, she kept at it, letting Ling steal bites for himself. Then she picked up the pan, left Ling rummaging thought his vegetables still on the counter and carried it into the sanctuary. She couldn't remember the last time she'd fed Ed in his enclosure. He was always at the table, beside her, across from her, always in the kitchen when dinner was being made.
Edward sat in the sharp grass while his father-Edward clambered over the metal framework in the middle of the yard. The air was cold on his face, but the pelt that his father had just made for him was cozy enough, the thick black pants protecting his rump from the frosted grass, gloves protecting his hands. His father's coat, made smaller and thicker to fit him better, wrapped him from throat to knees.
His father-Edward shook the metal bars, yanking on them hard as he climbed over the frame. "Mother put this here when I was a kitten myself," he was saying. "It's still strong, though." He settled atop it, and looked down at Edward, grinning.
Leaning forward, Edward grabbed the toe of one of his new boots. It was stiff and strong, and it fit his foot perfectly. He'd watched his father-Edward transmute it for him, out of one of his father's own shoes ... the boot neither pinched nor swamped his foot. It was marvelous.
Legs tangled in the top bars of the metal frame to steady himself, his father-Edward said, "Come play."
Edward looked up at him, fingers still on the toe of his boot. His father said again, "Come play. I bet you can't reach me up here."
The metal bars were linked together, arching up in a dome shape; it would be easy to climb them. Edward pushed himself to his feet and walked up to the framework, looking up at his father-Edward's silhouette against the white sky.
"I bet you can't reach me," said his father again, grinning.
Frowning, Edward took hold of the bars and began to climb them. It wasn't all that high, and they were fairly close together, so he didn't know what would be so hard about it. When he reached the top, however, his father-Edward deftly untangled himself and dropped down between the spaces before Edward could touch him, landing in the clear center of the dome.
"You can't catch me," said his father, looking up at him from a crouch.
Edward blinked. He rested his weight against the cold steel, protected from it by his new pelt, and peered down at his grinning father. So. That was how it was. He quickly slid his feet between the bars and then his body followed, until he was hanging by his gloved hands and dangling in space. His father-Edward scrambled to get out from inside the framework as Edward let himself drop, but was too slow; Edward pounced his leg before he could pull it through.
"Caught," Edward declared.
His father-Edward laughed and said, "Let go," but Edward gripped tighter. His father tried to pull his leg through, so Edward braced himself against the metal bars until his father was defeated, and dropped to his back on the ground outside the framework, one leg in the air.
In a moment, Edward had crawled through the bars and bounced onto his conquered father, straddling his belly and declaring again, "Caught."
"I am caught," his father-Edward acknowledged, and he laughed and touched Edward's waist.
Edward froze, and his father-Edward's grin faded. The touch on Edward's waist vanished; freed, Edward threw himself off his father and crawled a little way away.
In his father's lap ... held there ... pain ...
But he wasn't held. There was no pain, only the memory of it. His father-Edward said nothing as Edward curled up in the cold grass and huddled up, until the shaking started to go away.
He fisted his hands, in case his hands decided to clap. He knew he wouldn't be able to control it if it happened, but he could keep his palms from connecting. Maybe.
When he wasn't trembling quite so badly, he heard his father-Edward stand up behind him, and brush through the grass toward him. "It's okay, kitling," said his father, crouching beside him. Edward waited to be touched ... but there was no touch. He rubbed his cheek on the grass.
"Father," he whispered.
"It's all right," his father-Edward said again. "You don't have to be upset. Stand up, it's okay."
Edward didn't move at first, but when his father made an encouraging chirrup he began to push himself up off the cold ground. His father-Edward smiled, kneeling beside him.
"You don't have to be upset." Now his father did touch him, brushing bits of grass off his coat, and out of his hair; Edward kept his fists clenched at his sides. "I'm not going to hurt you."
Edward looked at his father, and pressed his lips together. He knew that. He knew that already ... his father-Edward wasn't going to hurt him. It had been a human all along, never his father-Edward.
That didn't help sometimes, but sometimes it did.
Eventually, he forced his right hand to un-fist, and reached out to grab his father-Edward's bangs.
"Caught," he whispered, and gave his father's hair a tug.
There was a sound in the enclosure, muffled through the door. Edward turned and looked over his shoulder; Mother was in there, looking at them through the window. When she saw that he was looking back, she turned and moved away from the glass.
"I'm hungry," said his father-Edward. "Are you hungry?"
Edward wasn't sure. He didn't like the way Mother had looked; it made him feel weird and uncomfortable, like there might be another fight. He didn't want his father to fight with Mother. Especially not about him. When he said nothing, his father-Edward pulled his hair free and stood up, dusted off his pelt and nudged Edward on the shoulder.
"Come on, kitling," he said.
It was warm inside. Edward had been out in the cold long enough for his ears and nose to chill, and the warmth burned. He rubbed at his nose; the fabric of his glove was rough on his face. The warm air carried the scent of food on it ... cooked meat and sweet fruit.
"That's funny." Edward looked up to see his father investigating a broad metal pan on one of the tables. "Mother brought us dinner here." His father picked up something from the pan and put it into his mouth, and then shrugged and picked up the whole thing to transfer it to the floor in front of Edward. "We can eat in here, I guess."
Edward sat down on the floor as his father reached over to unbutton his coat and tug the gloves off his hands. As the gloves came free, he reached toward the food, then hesitated.
"It's all right," his father said. Edward's gloves were dropped on the floor beside him.
There was meat and fruit and chunks of raw vegetables. The meat was still warm, and the fruit cool. Edward's father lay on his back on the floor while Edward ate first, stretching out lazily with his arms over his head.
"I don't want you to be afraid," said Edward's father softly, after a little while.
Edward paused, fingers in his mouth, and looked that way; his father had lowered one hand to press against his side. "I'm going to make you not afraid of me."
Edward licked his fingers. His father turned to look back at him, and flashed him a grin, but it wasn't as bright of a grin as before, and then began to pick food off the pan for himself.
Was he afraid? Edward didn't feel afraid right then, but he knew he had been for a moment, outside. There'd been no reason for it ... his father-Edward hadn't been doing anything alarming. He'd chosen to pounce on his father's belly; his father had not made him do that. It had just seemed like the right thing to do, and there hadn't been anything frightening about it until that touch had landed on his waist.
He hadn't been hurt for a long time. Since he'd come here, in fact ... since Mother had brought him here. This was a safe place. Mother and his father-Edward kept telling him that, and it really was true. Even the black-haired animal, whose scent was thick in this room, hadn't hurt him.
Even so, it had been so much easier to want to touch and cuddle with his father in that evil place, where his father's hands had been bound.
When everything in the pan was gone, his father-Edward started to stretch out again, then winced and rolled over onto his side instead, one hand clasped to his other flank. "Do you want to go back outside?" he asked.
Edward shook his head a little, and his father quirked his lip. "Maybe into the house? We can see if Mother is doing anything interesting."
The look on Mother's face when he'd seen her through the window ... Edward looked down at his hands. If they saw Mother, she and his father-Edward would fight again. Over him.
"Kitling," said his father, voice low. "What's the matter?"
Worrying his fingers together, Edward hunched over a bit on himself. His father-Edward sighed, but didn't press him. "Well, if you don't want to go outside, and you don't want to go into the house, I guess we can stay here."
His father rolled to his feet, hissing a bit as he stood up, and went over to one of the shelves in the corner to retrieve a couple of books. One was given to Edward, and his father kept the other, lying down nearby once again.
Most of the books that Edward was given felt wrong, somehow ... not right. The ones that Mother gave him usually were full of colorful pictures, which were nice enough to look at, but were unsatisfying at the same time. The ones his father-Edward usually brought to him lacked pictures, and were slightly more interesting, but still weren't quite right.
The one that was dropped in front of him now was fascinating. Human words meant so little to him, generally, but some were more interesting than others: covalent, tungsten, lanthanides. He stared at the pages, eyes flipping rapidly down them.
He was a third of the way through the book, scanning the pages for the interesting words, when a soft noise summoned him out of it. It was a breathy sound that made him stiffen with the memory of lingering pain, and fear at waking the human who had owned him.
There was no human here, however. As he glanced around, careful not to move much and make any noises, that was easy to see. It was only himself, and his father-Edward.
Who had fallen asleep across his own book.
Edward stared. His father's eyes were definitely closed, and his lips were slightly parted; it was breathing through his mouth that made that steady, soft sound. His father's cheek was pressed to the open book, one hand lax across the pages, and he was half-curled on his side.
Sitting in silence with his father-Edward while his father was awake had been comfortable and safe. Sitting in silence with his father inert and sleeping didn't feel quite so comfortable.
He may as well have been alone.
The metal pan was between them. Edward pushed it to the side, and pushed his own book aside as well, crawling silently toward his father. The elder Elric didn't wake, and made no sound when Edward began to touch his arm. He didn't move, didn't twitch, not even when Edward cuddled up to his father's belly, hands fisting in his father's pelt.
That was better. He could smell his father now, feel his warmth, and yet his father-Edward was asleep and not touching him. Edward could do all the touching he wanted, and fear no reciprocation.
He didn't know how long he remained awake like that before he fell asleep himself.