That Would Be Enough (Chapter Four)
Title: That Would Be Enough
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Pairing: Ed/Winry, Ed/Roy
Warnings: Emotional Cheating, Ed is an idiot
Summary: Ed made choices. He made mistakes. They all had to live with them. Ed proposes to Winry on the train platform, but was it the right choice and for the right reasons? With a serial killer on the loose and Ed the next target, he had no choice but to look for the truth in his own heart.
Overthrowing a corrupt government, complete with immortal god-like creatures and homunculi, had been easy compared to creating a new government and keeping it from following its predecessor into the murky depths of compromise and corruption.
Well, from Ed’s point of view it seemed that way. When Ed had shared that idea at the office, Mustang had let out a snort of a laugh and simply said, “Winning is easy, young man. Governing’s harder.”
He settled his forehead against the glass window as he watched the scenery run by the train without really seeing it. He had one knee tucked up while his automail leg was stretched out straight in front of him. He let out a deep breath and tried to get rid of the anger that had followed him like a cloud since he’d left South Helston. Just a tiny little town, a couple hours walk from the nearest train station, but home to an escaped criminal who happened to be a rogue alchemist. The self-proclaimed Merciful Alchemist had escaped from prison when he’d been transferring to another location. He’d been caught, but Ed still felt the aches and pains of the fight. Winry was going to kill him for the damage to his arm, but at least it was a minor repair and not a complete rebuild. He didn’t want to take the time to stay in Resembool for the few days that would take.
Of course, Winry was going to kill him for taking off as soon as he got fixed anyway.
He realized he was clenching the letter in his hand and immediately felt guilty. He smoothed it out against his bent knee. It wasn’t the letter’s fault he was in such a foul mood. Hell, it wasn’t even the man who had written the letter, as miraculous as that thought might have once been. No, it was all on him. It was his guilt. His regret.
He opened the letter and read it again, though he’d already memorized it in the two days since he’d received it. There was a careful, considered feel to the words that made Ed worry. Their letters were always a little different than their face to face interactions - letters seemed to invoke a more thoughtful, honest conversation between them than the in person bantering they usually enjoyed - but this was different. As much as he worried over the careful phrasing though, he was still elated to have the words.
1926
Dear Fullmetal,
I hope this letter finds you well. By the time you get back to Central, I’ll be part of a convoy headed to Xing. My work with the Ishvalan people and the delicate negotiations seem to have endeared me to Fuhrer Grumman and he asked for me to take command of the delegation myself. I look forward to meeting the challenge of these new talks.
I am hoping I will get the chance to meet up with a friend of yours away from the formality of the courts. As you know, I have received some positive correspondence from him in the past few years as we settled the affairs of the Bradley administration. He made certain promises that could be of immense support in my further endeavors and I believe a face to face meeting may finally seal our future.
Of course, I had hoped that you would return in time to make the journey with me. Your familiarity with the Emperor, as volatile as your relationship has always been, would have been helpful. Your presence would have kept me on my toes at least. Though the friend we spoke of at the party is here as well and if things get dull, I may be able to spend some time to gain some understanding of him.
I hope your latest adventures were successful and that you remain unharmed. I’m sure your wife will keep you in line and make certain that you don’t run off when you are still injured, but please remember to use caution, and take care. I would hate to return from Xing to find your wife has finally murdered you for destroying her fine work, or your brother has locked you in a room to keep you from harm.
I must end here. Hawkeye keeps tapping her gun hilt as I write this and I fear I’m about to make us late for our train. Take care, Edward. I look forward to your next correspondence and hearing that you are well.
Sincerely,
General Roy Mustang
Ed snorted. Like he didn’t know Mustang’s full title and how he got it. He hated that he’d been caught so long in South Helston that he’d missed the chance to go to Xing though. It would be nice to see Ling, see what sort of emperor he’d become, and see what sort of marks had been left behind by Greed when he’d sacrificed himself.
He could always try to catch up with the delegation on the way. As a small party, Ed was likely to travel quicker than a delegation was. Even if he didn’t meet up with the group on the way, Ling would still welcome him there, even if he wasn’t a part of the official Amestrian party. Winry would probably take it better than him running off to Central City to get his next mission.
Ed would certainly much rather be with Mustang in Xing. In Xing, they’d have more freedom. Since the Promised Day, Central Command had turned into a landmine. Everyone was watching everyone else, looking for the next Bradley - or Mustang - depending on where they stood on the ideas of government. In Xing, they’d have more space to relax. Mustang needed it. He, above all of them, had been set under an eyeglass, history’s eyes watching to see what role to paint him into.
He let out another deep breath and carefully folded the letter and slipped it into the inner pocket of his jacket. He looked back out the window again before he closed his eyes. Xing was a bad idea. He wanted to go there far more than he wanted to go to Central, but the real reason he wanted to be in Xing was the reason he couldn’t go.
Instead, he’d head home to Resembool, spend a few days with his wife and see Granny, then head back to Central to check on his brother at the University. He’d go to the office where Breda would be in charge with the others gone and see what he had lined up for him next. If he called from the train station, Breda just might have something in line already and he could speed his trip up.
He gritted his teeth together and felt his hands balled up again, against his will. He fucking loved his wife, okay? He wanted to spend time with her, but he could never escape the guilt that came every time they touched, every night as he lay beside her in their bed. Because every night, Ed feel asleep wondering.
What if...
Winry was busy with a customer when Ed arrived so he had a reunion with Granny as he waited for her to finish up. There wasn’t much to do in Resembool but their sleepy little town had started to grow. Ed knew Winry was responsible for it. She was becoming a name in automail and people came from far and wide to be seen by her. A new Inn had opened up close to the train station and a couple restaurants had popped up.
Once she had finished with her customer, Ed surprised her and whisked her off to the new Cretan place that Granny said she’d come to love.
Dinner was nice and she hadn’t even threatened him with a wrench at the damage to his arm. Of course, it was mostly superficial but that had never stopped her before. Maybe she’d mellowed in the last few years and he hadn’t noticed? Or maybe she was just waiting to let him have it later.
After they got home, she’d pulled him into her workroom and fixed his arm before he’d followed her back up to their bedroom.
It didn’t happen until much later. After he’d made love to her, she curled up against his side, her hand pressed to his heart and her head on his shoulder, and whispered softly into his neck. “It’s been a long time, Ed. Six months. I know… I know how important your work is. I just … wish you could come home more often. I wish I had as much of your attention as he does.”
“What?” he sat up, staring down at her.
“Nothing. Forget it. Just …. Let’s get some sleep.”
“Winry-”
“It was stupid. I just get lonely sometimes. I always thought that once you got Al back, we’d have the chance to be happy together. When we got married, I thought you’d start to settle down more. I … I know they need you, Ed. I don’t want you to stop what you’re doing, I just wish what you were doing brought you home more often.”
He took a deep breath and when Winry pulled at him, he let her drag him back down so she could rest her head on him again. He didn’t know how to answer what she’d said and if she was willing to let him off that easy, he’d take it.
“When do you have to leave?” she asked into the silence between them.
He let out a deep breath. “Day after tomorrow. Breda has something for me.”
“Breda? Not the General?”
“The General is headed to Xing on a diplomatic mission.”
“Oh.” She pulled a little closer to him and he looked down and pushed a stray piece of hair from her face. “Promise to call, okay? When you get a chance. A letter now and then wouldn’t be remiss either, even if I can barely make out your chicken scratch.”
“I’ll call more often,” he said softly as he pressed a kiss to her temple.
She sighed, content for the moment, and Ed could hear the sound of sleep in it as he felt her body relax against him completely.
He could call more often. He could pick up the damn phone when he was on the road and try to let her into his traveling life more.
The problem wasn’t his life though, it wasn’t talking to her, or holding her close like this.
It was his damn nomadic heart, who had found its home on the road in the shape of paper and ink and words on the page that meant more to him than any other.
Another train and Ed stared at the letter, rereading it before he tucked it into an envelope to send it off once he arrived at the next station. He’d reread it three times already to make sure he was saying what he needed to but with the same caution that Mustang had used in his previous letter. Mustang’s letter had been cautious enough to tip him off, but then they’d found bugs in the office again and everyone was on high alert.
It was hard enough to write Mustang but this was torture. There were things he was afraid to say too openly. There was so much more to the man’s ambitions than what he was doing now, and even with the change in regime, it was possible that someone might look at Mustang’s mail. He was afraid to mention too much about Ling in case someone tried to stop Mustang from meeting with the Emperor in private. Mustang would do his duty to the diplomatic mission he was there for, but his personal meeting was more about getting the Xing Emperor’s support in his bid to become Fuhrer.
He thought about starting the letter over again and taking out mention of his wife, but there wasn’t really a reason, was there? Winry wasn’t some secret and Ed wasn’t having an affair. It just felt awkward sometimes to speak to Winry or Mustang about the other.
Maybe it was just a way to assuage his guilt. He had yet to find a way to write a letter to Winry. Writing about her to Mustang was the least he could do. He had kept his promise to call her more often and it was feeling less stinted.
Al thought it was a good thing. Of course, he thought Ed should take some time off to stay in Resembool for a while. A break, he’d called it, but Ed could see the concern when he’d stopped by to see Al between classes yesterday. He knew that Al talked to Winry way more often than Ed did. Hell, so did Mustang. It was wrong, he knew that, but he was getting better. He was trying. Winry deserved better than him and he was trying to be worthy of her.
Maybe he would take some time after he finished in the north. He’d have to stop and change out his automail anyway. It was a long overdue break, as Al had pointed out.
With his mind made up, Ed turned his eyes back to the scenery and tried not to think about the train changes he’d have to make if he changed his mind and decided to go to Xing.
1926
General Bastard,
How is Xing? I heard the Emperor greeted you a bit too familiarly for the court’s approval. That sounds just like Ling to put you on the hot seat as soon as you show up and watch you squirm. Sounds like another Bastard I know. Hopefully my friend was able to meet you in a less public forum. I know you have high hopes for that meeting. I do as well. It’s probably better than I wasn’t able to join you. My friend is annoying as hell and we’d probably end up in a shouting match anyway.
South Helston took longer than I had hoped. The damn alchemist had some hired thugs who kept me busy. Don’t worry. There wasn’t too much damage and I fixed what I broke.
Resembool is growing a little. Winry and I ate at a new Cretan place while I was home. It’s not as good as that place down the street from HQ but it was pretty damn good. Winry’s busy with her workshop. It’s good that she’s got that to keep her busy since I’m gone so much. She’s got Granny and Paninya has been coming to visit from Rush Valley. I think Winry is going to take her on as an apprentice. I worry about being gone so much and leaving her alone so it’ll be good for her to have someone.
Try not to make Hawkeye’s job too hard while you’re gone. Remember she’s trying to keep you safe. No matter how much you think you can take care of yourself, you know you’d have died a long time ago if she wasn’t there.
I’m heading north on a mission that came through from Armstrong. General Armstrong won’t be happy that her brother sent me up there but I don’t think she’s truly happy unless she’s actively killing something. Winry wasn’t happy to change my automail out again since she’d just fixed my regular arm but I think she was angrier that I was leaving as soon as she was done. She always wants to baby me for a day or two after she has to reconnect everything but I had a train to catch.
When will you be done in Xing? Will this be an extended trip or will the diplomatic party be coming home as soon as the politics are done? Not that I care. Breda just doesn’t have the same flair when he gives me missions. At least Alex came to give me this one. He could have kept his shirt on though.
With those words, I’ll leave you to get some work done. I’m sure you’ve procrastinated enough. The image of a shirtless Armstrong should at least motivate you, just so he doesn’t show up to give you the (shirtless) Armstong Family Motivational Speech.
Looking forward to hearing how your meetings have gone and if you were able to accomplish everything you wished,
The Fullmetal Alchemist
P.S. Formal Bastard. Why can’t you just sign your name?
Roy smiled as he ran his fingers over the bold lettering of Fullmetal’s handwriting. He’d been in Xing for six weeks and the letter was one of the few comforts he had with him that helped alleviate the stress of each day. Of course, there was alcohol but Roy had learned that Ling liked to pop in whenever he could get away from the Court, and as Emperor he was also prone to call for official meetings without warning.
Roy was certain he did it to try to catch the envoy at a disadvantage but it meant he couldn’t relax too much.
His fellow diplomats were just as bad. General Ackerman had not been pleased to be on the mission once Grumman had made it clear that Roy had command. Ackerman had been a general longer than Roy, but the fact that Roy and his team had worked with Ling on the Promised Day gave him the edge. To Roy’s surprise, Ackerman made no secret of his distaste of the Flame Alchemist - of Alchemists in general - on this trip and Roy felt no need to try to endear the man to him. He was a rival, someone on the way out as soon as Roy could find his weakness.
“General, you look tired,” he heard from behind him.
He looked over his shoulder to see Ling enter his rooms. He wasn’t dressed in formal attire, which meant it was another night of slipping out when no one had been watching. Except Lan Fan, who trailed like a shadow behind him on the balcony.
“Your Imperial Majesty,” he started to say but Ling waved the title away.
“Old friend would do nicely for tonight,” Ling said as he moved towards the bottles that Roy had been so actively trying to avoid. Ling poured two glasses of brandy and handed one to Roy. “As much as I appreciate the distance in Court, it’s good to have a friend.”
“I suppose an Emperor doesn’t have many of those.”
“Spoken like a man who understands what it would take to be Fuhrer.”
Roy tilted his glass to Ling and they both drank.
“How is Amestris? I hope the Elric brothers are behaving themselves? Mei Chan has asked of them often.”
“Alphonse is studying at the university in Central City. He would have graduated years ago, except he keeps taking time off when he gets too caught up in his other research. He’s quite brilliant and the school allows him his … eccentricities ... because of it. He tends to show up at the office quite frequently when his brother is traveling. I think he needs someone to look after.”
“It must be hard with Ed living in Resembool, I would think.”
Roy sipped his brandy before answering. “Ed is rarely in Resembool. I keep trying to get him to take time off but he’s always jumping into the next problem.”
“A man driven may soon crash without a clear destination,” Ling offered.
“I don’t know,” Roy answered honestly. “He seems fine when he’s in Central between missions, but as soon as I suggest Resembool he clams up.”
“Maybe it is another need that drives him, then.”
“I don’t know if I’m not drunk enough for this conversation or too awake for it,” Mustang admitted.
Ling laughed. “Greed and I both became very fond of Edward in our time with him. He has a strong heart and a whip crack mind. He is determined and very loyal. Sometimes to a fault.”
“I’m aware of his good traits, Ling, just as I’m aware of his less than stellar ones.”
“Such as?”
“His temper, his inability to stop destroying public property, his disregard for military orders and protocol, and his inability to stop throwing himself into harm’s way all the damn time.”
“And the fact that he’s married?”
Roy looked at Ling and shook his head. “That is a circumstance, not a trait.”
“But not something you look upon favorably, certainly.”
“Quite the contrary. I was very happy when I learned that Ed and Winry were to be wed.”
“The fact that you reread his letters so much makes me wonder how true those words are, Mustang.”
Roy let out a soft snort. Of course Ling paid too much attention to the things Roy thought no one else would notice. “How long were you watching me before you let me know you were here?”
“Not long, but enough to know you treasure those letters far more than a man who has no interest.”
“Whatever interest I have makes no matter. Fullmetal is married to a lovely young lady. He deserves to be happy with someone like her.”
“What about you?”
“I gave up any right to a happy personal life when I set myself on this path. I’m sure you can understand.”
“From one man who wants what he can’t have to another, I assuredly do.”
It wasn’t what Roy wanted to hear but he realized Ling understood only too well. Their reasons for separation might be different, but those were just details.
“Shall we discuss something less likely to make me cry into my drink tonight?” Roy said with a smile at the Emperor of Xing.
Ling laughed and Roy was glad that over the course of the last 6 weeks their long distance correspondence had turned into an easy friendship in private.
“Now, tell me what you really need to make it possible to build train tracks from Xing to Amestris. I will still have to ask for the outrageous at Court and we’ll have to spend a few days fighting over it, but I think we can avoid weeks of bickering. I doubt you wish to be away from Central much longer.”
“Home is where the heart is,” Roy said without thought.
“And where is your heart, right now?”
Roy shook his head, dismayed that he’d brought it back to that again. “Hell if I know at the moment. Halfway to freezing, I’d guess.”
Ling smiled. “Alright. Also, how can I scare away that General Ackerman? I don’t like the way he looks at Mei Chan. His sneer is distasteful, especially to someone so dear to me.”
“Well… I have some ideas….”
1926
Dear Fullmetal,
Your friend is a devious man and I am afraid I have grown genuinely fond of him. He has a penchant for showing up in my rooms when no one is the wiser and speaking his mind. His forthrightness when we are alone is rather refreshing. It reminds me of a brat I know, though he is far more respectful.
In good news, the friend we spoke of at the party is no longer a concern here. The Emperor was not happy with his performance and demanded he leave at once. It’s made the discussion with the Xingese court much more relaxed. I had thought his sneers about alchemy and alchehestry had been for my benefit alone but he had been voicing his opinion in front of others. His words were affecting the conversation more than I realized.
I will do my best to keep motivated. I certainly don’t need any motivational speeches. However, the Xing countryside is rather lovely and I may extend the trip a few days to see some of it with the Emperor. He has extended the invitation and it would be remiss of me to say no to an official invitation when we are so close to signing a treaty.
It sounds like Resembool is indeed benefiting from your beautiful wife’s residency. She had mentioned some of the shops but I have not yet been able to stop to see them myself. I can’t imagine Resembool as a thriving city again. It will always be a small sleepy town, where I once found two extraordinary alchemists.
Speaking of which, I received a letter from Alphonse today. It was quite the surprise, but he needed a recommendation for a research grant. I will, of course, endorse him with whatever means I have and will send the letter on as soon as I have it completed. In the meantime, please assure him, I will pull whatever strings I can to see his research funded. The premise of combining alchemy and alchehestry is a promising one and I applaud the efforts of taking alchemy away from its military applications and spreading it to other areas of focus. If he needs anything, I trust you will let me know.
I’m sure the office must be quite dull without me there. No Havoc to tell fables of his manly prowess. No Hawkeye to threaten you at gunpoint to finish your work. I don’t imagine too much is getting done. I hope Breda is at least becoming a better gambler in my absence. As good as he is at his job, his poker face was always terrible.
And I’m sorry if my formality upset you. I will endeavor to be less formal. Perhaps it will convince you to stop writing all your actual reports to General Bastard. I won’t hold my breath, but a man can dream.
Speaking of which, after a late night visit from your friend, I am in desperate need of sleep. The court will call all too early I’m sure and I need to be prepared.
Your friend asked where you were tonight and I told him I had no idea. I hope wherever you are, whatever you are tracking down, you are taking care of yourself.
Yours truly,
Roy Mustang
P.S. Is that still too formal, Brat?
P.S.S. I found something in a stall in the main market last week and it made me think of you. I have enclosed it with this letter. I hope you like it.
Ed sat in the middle of the small stream on a giant rock, paper in hand and a dour expression on his face. The year had been light on rain and the usually strong current in the stream was barely more than a trickle. Ed could see the watermarks that showed how far up the water came up to most years. There was talk of a turn in the weather and everyone was watching the skies, hopeful for more rain to fill their streams and keep their fields green.
Ed was so damn tired of the small talk around Resembool. The weather, the crops, the herds. Some comments about the new amenities cropping up close to the train station. That was it, besides the busy bodies who put their noses in everyone else’s business. Like where Ed Elric spent most of his time when he wasn’t with his wife.
He was frustrated with it all and he’d hoped answering Mustang’s last letter would help him settle his thoughts before he tried to return home to Winry. God only knew why she put up with him as it was. She didn’t deserve the brunt of his temper over someone else’s speculation. Especially when that latest someone was a tanner who had taken an obvious interested in his wife. He had no doubt about Winry’s fidelity. He hated that anyone would dare question his.
He hated that he questioned it. He would never cheat on his wife but his heart was a lying bastard. Ed would never act on anything, would never do anything to hurt Winry, but the truth was the same nonetheless.
In his hand he held a small charm that had been in his last letter from Mustang. He was terrified he was going to lose it. It wasn’t anything special, he suspected, just a little something the man picked up from a stall along the way somewhere. But he’d sent it back to Ed and that meant something.
When everyone around him seemed to be intent on reminded Ed of what a shit person he was, Mustang had found a way to make him feel cared for. He wasn’t even there to know Ed had been struggling lately, but he still managed it.
He turned it over and looked at it. Just a bit of enamel work. It was a serpent, like the one on the flamel symbol he used to wear on his jacket, but instead of circling the cross, this one was wrapped around a flame. It was beautiful work, with the flame dancing in reds and oranges and the serpent in deep gold. To Ed, it looked like the serpent had settled into the warmth of the flame, both to be cared for and to protect it at once.
He thought of a necklace like Winry wore, but Ed was in far too many fights to trust it to that. Ed didn’t keep many things for exactly that reason. He moved around too much and he was always afraid of losing things if he did get attached to them. He could leave it at his apartment in Central but just having it with him made him feel like Mustang was there. He brought his hand up and scratched at the edge of skin that pressed against the metal of his chest plate where his automail was attached. The thought hit him then and he knew exactly what to do.
He let the array rest in his mind, certain that it would do what he wanted, then he clapped his hands. He took the charm and pressed it against the metal chest plate and felt the moment the alchemy melded them together. When he was done, the enamel charm was a part of his automail. He ran his flesh hand over it and he could feel the slight ridges of the charm and he smiled.
Now, he had a letter to write. He spread the paper out over the rock and leaned over to start writing but was startled upright by a splash and the small spatter of droplets on the paper.
“Hey! What the hell!”
He looked up to see Paninya at the edge of the stream with another rock in hand.
“Cut that out! I’m trying to write the General!”
“I didn’t do anything!”
Ed had no patience for Paninya. It started with the way she’d stolen his pocket watch when they met in Rush Valley and it had just grown from there. Since she’d become Winry’s apprentice, Paninya had gone from passively annoying Ed to actively disliking him. She was overprotective of Winry and Ed hated that she stuck her nose into their relationship, no matter how good her intentions towards Winry were.
“You got my paper wet!”
“Maybe you should try writing someplace normal, or did you have to use a rock because you couldn’t reach the desk!”
“Maybe you had to use a rock because you can’t catch me on those second rate legs of yours!”
They were her own design and she’d been wearing them when she got to Resembool. Winry was helping to redesign them so that she could make her own, better designs, but she was a long way to go before she was a Winry’s level.
“You… go drown yourself Elric!”
She threw the rock in her hand with her automail arm so hard that it was sure to splash. Ed pulled his paper up and barely had it out of the way in time. “You’re such a brat!” he yelled at her retreating back.
Winry handed the tea cup to the general and smiled, hoping that Ed would get home soon. The man across from her smiled back and Winry couldn’t help but feel there was nothing friendly behind that flash of teeth. It wasn’t like the charming smiles that General Mustang gave her. This was the sort that reminded her of a snake, cold blooded, and waiting for the right moment to bite. The general had black hair and brown eyes that sat behind stylish glasses. His facial structure reminded Winry of Maes Hughes a little, but all resemblance ended there. There was nothing warm about this man, nothing open and caring. From his introduction to this moment, he wasn’t a man she felt comfortable around.
“I don’t think my husband has ever mentioned working for your office, General Ackerman,” she said as she picked up her own cup of tea and sipped from it.
“I haven’t had the chance to work with the Fullmetal Alchemist, but I’ve heard nothing but glowing reviews from a mutual friend.”
“About Ed?” she asked dubiously. She felt her face blush then, but anyone that knew Ed knew his temper and his penchant for destruction. “I mean, he’d love to hear that.”
“Of course. General Mustang has known your husband for some time. I admit their relationship isn’t always … well … appropriate, but I suppose that’s what happens when you bring a 12 year old into the military.”
“I don’t know what you mean, General.” There were a lot of things that could be said about Ed and the General but she hoped the man wasn’t poking at the real reason General Mustang had asked Ed to join.
“Of course not. The two just seem very close. “
She nodded. “General Mustang is an honorable man. His entire team is close. In fact, they come to visit me whenever they’re travelling through Resembool.”
“As I was informed. Which was why General Mustang asked me to check on you myself, since his trip to Xing would be a while longer.”
“It was kind of him to ask, and kind of you to come. If you had called ahead I’m sure Ed would have enjoyed greeting you himself. I must be a poor substitute.” Damn Ed, for being out. She had no idea where he’d gone today. A walk to stretch his legs, he’d said. She had no idea when he’d be back.
“Not in the wildest imagination could I call you a poor substitute for anything,” Ackerman said with that smile again. “In fact I can’t imagine how your husband stays away as much as he does. With such a beautiful woman to come home to, I would never work a minute of overtime.”
“Ed’s work is very important to him.”
“Yes, he and Mustang do put in a lot of overtime together, don’t they? I’ve come to check on Roy more than once to find them both standing over his desk. I don’t understand a thing about alchemy, other than it works, but it must have been something intense, the way they are so often flushed when I interrupt.”
Winry’s eyes widened. She might be a country girl, but she understood quite well what he was insinuating. “General, I just remembered that I have a customer coming by in a bit to pick up some automail pieces. I’m afraid I must cut this visit short. I will let Ed know that you stopped by to ask about him. I’m sure he’ll be delighted to know he is held in such high regard by the military.”
Her own smile, she was sure, no longer matched her eyes, but she could be polite when she had to. And no matter what the man had just said, he had a higher rank than Ed and she couldn’t risk damaging Ed’s reputation just because the man made insinuations.
General Ackerman simply sipped his tea one last time before he stood. She stood with him and saw him to the front door. “It was a pleasure, Mrs. Rockbell-Elric. I hope you’ll allow me this one word of advice before we part ways. Dogs of the military, they tend to keep to their own. People who get between them usually get hurt. Whatever happens, promise me you’ll be careful. General Mustang is very protective of his team. And I would say he is borderline possessive of the Alchemist of the People. It gives him a great deal of credit with the public, after all, to have Fullmetal in his pocket.”
He turned and walked away before she could say anything else.
She was furious. She wasn’t sure who to be madder at; the man who’d left, the General who’d sent him, or her wayward husband. She closed the door after she watched the general drive away in his car.
“Winry?” She turned to look out the back door and Paninya was watching her carefully. “Who was that?”
Winry let out a deep breath. “Some general come to chat with Ed, wherever the hell he is.”
“I saw him by the stream a bit ago. He was on the big rock, writing a letter to his boss. Why doesn’t he just use a desk like normal people? He got all crazy when I showed up. You know how he is.”
Winry bit her lower lip. Yeah, she did know. But Ed got worked up for a reason, not for nothing. What was he writing the General about? He’d been in Resembool for the past three weeks so there was no report he needed to send in. Not that she wasn’t grateful to have her husband home, but she didn’t think he’d been there for that long a stretch since Al had moved to Central to go to the university.
She knew there was nothing to what the general had said, but she couldn’t help the small cornel of uncertainty as she remembered the night of the party and how close Ed and Mustang had been when she’d seen them out on the balcony together. She couldn’t forget the way Mustang’s hand had held Ed’s as they spoke or the flush that had been on Ed’s face as he’d come back into the room.
She couldn’t forget restless nights where her husband woke her, tossing and turning, until his dreams turned calmer with a mumbled “Roy” under his breath.
She couldn’t forget, but she was quite capable of burying it under work until she had a better time to deal with it. “Well, now that he’s gone, we have that arm to look at.”
She went back to work and did her best to focus on the hand at hand.
The sun had set hours before Ed made his way home, the light upstairs drawing him back as it always had. A bowl of stew had been left out for him and he ate quickly. He’d finished his letter to Mustang and walked it all the way to the station and back. It was a long walk, but it calmed him. He had itching feet and a need to roam. The weeks in Resembool had been good for Winry, he knew, but he felt out of the loop at the office and he hated that.
Winry was in the living room when he finished eating. Her back was straight and her lips were drawn into a tight line as she looked into the empty fireplace.
“Winry?” He called her name.
“Do you know a General Ackerman?” she asked.
“What? Why?”
“He stopped by for a visit today. I didn’t know where you were. He was … well… rude and someone I never want to meet again. Why would General Mustang ask that man to stop here?”
“General Ackerman is a pain in the ass. Trust me on this. Mustang did not send him here. What did he talk to you about?”
She looked down at her hands and he could tell something about the visit really bothered her. Not simple rudeness. Hell, she was married to him. She was used to that by now. This was something deeper. Something she didn’t want to share.
“He was talking about your work with General Mustang. About your team.”
“Damn him! Why is he trying to get dirt on the team? What is he playing at?” Ed demanded. That had to be it. Mustang had warned him a while back that Ackerman was dangerous but he didn’t know the man’s motivations yet. At least Ed would be able to give him something.
“Ed?”
“Mustang warned me, at the Embassy exhibit. The man is no good. I don’t know what he’s up to, but I don’t trust him farther than I could throw him. If he shows up again, tell him he can catch the next train out! You don’t need to entertain him just because he shows up and flashes his rank.”
“He wasn’t any trouble, Ed. It was just odd, was all.”
“Don’t worry Winry, he won’t make trouble for Mustang. I’ll make sure of it.”
She shook her head slightly and he still felt like there was more that needed to be said but he had no idea what.
“Winry?”
“I’m tired. I’m heading to bed.”
“Yeah, me too. Took a walk down to the station today and back. I’m ready for some sleep.”
Considering how agitated Ed had gotten over Ackerman’s visit, Winry was glad she hadn’t mentioned the man’s insinuations. The more Ed spoke of him, the more she realized he had just been looking for some kind of trouble here. Through her. She had no desire to give him the satisfaction and she did her best to help Ed forget about the general in the first place.
When he was curled up behind her in bed that night, her own body spooned closely against his, his hand resting lightly on her hip as they tried to settle for sleep, he mentioned it one last time.
“How long did he say it would be before Mustang was back?”
She bit her lip and closed her eyes. “He didn’t say.”
“Jackass. He’s going to rue the day he set his sights on Mustang.”
Winry didn’t say anything else about it. It was starting to build though, with every word Ed said. She knew she had to get it out before it ate her alive. It was an innocent thing, really, but something that had stuck all afternoon.
“Hey, do you think you could maybe start writing me when you’re traveling?” she asked.
“Like… letters?”
“Yeah.”
“What, I’m not entertaining enough on the phone? I thought I was doing better at that?”
She could hear his confusion and she sighed. “You are. I just … thought it might be nice to get letters. Something that I could maybe reread when you’re gone for longer periods.”
“Winry, I told you I’m going to try to get home more. Make sure I have the time to really be home more than a day or two at a time. I promise.”
“Is it really so hard to write your wife a letter?”
“Yes?”
She pulled away and looked back at him. He’d dropped onto his back and she stared at him, waiting for something more. As always, her eyes were drawn to her husband’s automail to make sure there was no damage to it. She was surprised as she saw something red gleam in the dim light of the room. It hadn’t been there that morning. Ed was taking him time trying to answer her and while she was annoyed at that, she couldn’t help but wonder what was on his automail. He brought a hand up and rubbed his thumb over it and she realized that whatever it was, Ed had put it there.
“I’m sorry Winry. I don’t know how to explain it. Letters … I don’t like putting my emotions on paper. It’s like baring my soul but I’m no good with words and I’m just as likely to piss someone off as to make them understand what I’m trying to say. I … need to see people face to face. I just… to put it in a letter like that … it puts too much trust in the other person understanding me well enough to see through the bullshit and know what I mean. I’ve tried to write you, Winry, I have, but I just can’t ever seem to figure out how to do it.”
But he’d been writing to Mustang that afternoon. He trusted Mustang to understand him well enough.
“Did… did Paninya say something to you today?”
“What? Why? What happened between the two of you?”
“Oh. Nothing,” he lied. “Just typical brat interrupting my nap and we started yelling.”
“You’ll try though, right? To write me a letter? Maybe it would be easier if I wrote you.”
“Winry, I barely know where I’m going to be day to day. If you tried to write me, the letters would probably just follow me until after I got back home anyway. I like our phone calls. Isn’t that enough?”
“Yeah,” she said after a moment. “Sure, Ed.”
He raised a hand to cup her cheek but she pulled away and turned over onto her side, facing away from him.
“Win?”
“Let’s get some sleep, Ed. It was a long day and the general was sort of creepy. I just wanna sleep and forget he was ever here.”
Ed pulled her back against his side and his lips brushed over the back of her neck. “Yeah, of course. Good night.”
She didn’t answer but she stayed awake long after her husband had fallen into dreams. She turned over to face him and it gave her the time she needed to look at the new addition to Ed’s chest piece. It was an enamel charm, a fire with a serpent wrapped around it. She didn’t need to wonder where it had come from. She didn’t wonder why Ed had transmuted it where he had. She didn’t wonder what he’d been thinking about as his thumb had swept across it, over and over again, while he’d tried to fall asleep.
Her own sleep, when she found it, was full of nightmares. Years’ worth of incriminating memories repeated over and over again, until she stood on the outside of the balcony doors again, watching the man she loved as he pressed his body tightly against another man. Where reality had held them further apart, and only their hands had touched, there was no space between them in her dreams. And when Roy Mustang lifted her husband’s chin to kiss him, there was no hesitation; even when he looked straight at Winry.