Chapter One
full chapter listing
Chapter One
Because fate causes fortune, and fortune takes it away,
And then fortune causes nightmares, nightmares that make you crazy.
It's all right, baby, I'm doing the best that I can.
Location: East City, Rockbell Household
Date: June 8, 1922
Time: 0500 hours
"All right, Brother. I'll see you next week. I love you." Al smiled as he listened to Ed's reply. "Bye." He hung up the phone and yawned.
"Everything okay?" Winry asked, and Al closed his eyes as he felt her arms slip around his waist.
"Yeah, Brother just called to let me know he arrived." He turned a bit to drape an arm across her shoulders, and kissed her forehead. "Why don't you go back to bed? It's early yet. I'll see if Grandma needs anything, then I'll come join you?"
"Bit early, but too late," Winry said. "I should probably stay up to make sure Sheska doesn't oversleep. I think she was up late reading. Again."
Al chuckled. "She's like Brother sometimes when it comes to books. Come on. You can keep me company then while I get the coffee started."
"Mmm. Coffee. Have I mentioned yet that I love you?"
"Not in the last six hours."
She paused. "I was asleep the last six hours."
"Ah, that would certainly explain it then. In that case, I forgive you." He gave her an impish grin and hurried ahead to turn on the kitchen light, pausing only after he got there to look back down the hall at Winry.
"You're a bigger brat than Ed ever was."
"You mean you didn't know?" Al feigned shock.
"It's always the quiet ones," Winry muttered as she followed after him.
Location: East City, Tringham Household
Date: June 8, 1922
Time: 0530 hours
The nightmares were no longer a regular part of her sleeping hours. In fact, in the last couple of years, it would be safe for her to say that the nights without them were outnumbering the nights with. But sometimes, there were triggers.
The warm scent of the desert earth seeping up through the chilled air in the hours before dawn, mingled in a breeze of juniper and sage, with a distant hint of incense and ripening fruits that made up the spring weather of East City sometimes evened out in just the right balance.
And when the breeze would carry that balance through her open window, Liore came back, larger than life. Death, burial, shattered hope, chaos. Sometimes it wasn't the desert smells but the muffled orders of soldiers and tramp of feet with the occasional training excursion either getting underway or coming back in the late hours.
But it wasn't like before, the nights when she'd wake up drenched in sweat, too frightened to properly breathe, and running through dark halls looking for an escape. It wasn't like the nights in the past when she'd slip past the shadows and into their bedrooms to curl up in the corners on the floor to sleep.
The nightmares still left her soaked, breathless, trembling, but the house was safe. The room was safe. And Rose understood that if something made it not feel safe, all she had to do was call for them, and one or the other, but usually both brothers, would be there in moments.
They formed a haphazard little family, the three of them. Rose had fallen into a role of an elder sister or cousin, someone to provide a necessary woman's touch as she took care of the housework and they in turn took care of her.
It hadn't ever come about with a formal, official agreement. In a world on the brink of going mad, they gravitated toward one another for stability, along the single binding thread of mutual knowledge of the Elric brothers, and an assumption that the other was someone to trust, to protect.
It was Russell and Fletcher Rose had found when she finally made her way to the surface, drugged, dazed, panicked. They were the ones who came back with her, who shared in her fears and bewilderment as the three of them took a gravely wounded Ed to the hospital, along with someone they could only assume was Al. The younger boy had no visible injuries, but he was unconscious, barely more than skin and bones, and reacted to all stimuli as if it were extraordinarily painful.
It was Russell and Fletcher who kept her steady as soldiers filled the halls, who saw to it that she was tested, treated, lest Dante's drugs had any lingering ill effects. It was them she clung to when she realized her child was gone. And it was her they turned to for assurance that they hadn't left the Elrics to a narrowly-missed death, that there likely was nothing they could have done to change to the outcome.
She knew Ed, obviously, and that alone made her someone Russell felt he should watch after with the clear absence of anyone else who would or could do the job. Protect her for Ed, to do something for the older teen he'd secretly admired. Rose knew that; in their own ways, they both looked up to Ed, seeing so many good qualities they wished they had.
Rose paused outside Russell's bedroom door; he was still asleep yet. So was Fletcher. The seventeen-year-old had finished his schooling for the year. She waited there in the shadows between the two doorways, letting it sink in that this was home. This was safe.
The clock on the mantle in the parlor chimed once, marking the half-hour. That pulled her from her the quiet daze to prompt her to go start the coffee and breakfast, and she tried to recall if Russell was working out of the State Alchemist offices that day, or if he was needed on site further north for hands-on work with the irrigation project.
Location: Central City, Hawkeye Household
Date: June 8, 1922
Time: 0530 hours
By the time Ed had disembarked and called Al, and made his way from the station to Riza's house, it was only another half-hour before he knew her alarm would go off. Still, that was a half-hour she didn't need to be deprived of for her sleep, so he was quick to unlock the door and shush Black Hayate's excited yips before they could disturb her.
"Settle down, boy," he whispered as he crouched and skritched the small dog around the ears. Hayate whined in his efforts to stay quiet, and wagged his tail so hard his entire body wiggled. Ed jerked his head back just in time to narrowly avoid getting a slobbery tongue up the side of his face, and took that as a sign to move on.
"Come on, let's get you outside." He left his suitcase in the hall and led the dog to the back door. The percolator was already out on the counter, and a quick check proved that Riza had prepared the coffee grounds before turning in the night before. He plugged it in and turned on the gas stove to heat the water for her tea.
Ed crept down the hallway to the spare bedroom and set his suitcase just inside the door before going to the other end and looking in the dark bedroom. It was silent, and he could just make out her shape under the covers by the light from the streetlamp outside filtered in through a small gap in the drapes.
Everything was just as it should be, and that was what mattered.
Ed didn't try to prepare breakfast; most of his attempts at cooking had proved to be colossal failures, such as one evening when he thought he would surprise her with dinner. Needless to say, they wound up going out instead, and his contribution to cooking remained solidly along the lines of purchasing meals and bringing them back.
He did know how to feed Black Hayate though, and opened the can of food before letting him back inside. Living with the captain for a week or so out of every month for the last four years, Ed was familiar with her training routine for him. But before he could make the dog go through the process, he perked his ears and looked behind Ed to bark, his tail wagging.
"Good morning, Edward," Riza said, her tone drowsy.
"Morning." He cast a guilty look over his shoulder at her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."
She waved it off and walked to the stove. "I don't think you did. I don't always sleep until the alarm goes off."
"Sit down," he told her. "I'll get that." He put Hayate's food dish down and reached around her to pick up the steaming teakettle. "I can't cook breakfast, so I'll see to your tea."
"I'm just having toast and jam this morning, I think."
"Toast I can do," Ed told her, and frowned a bit as he watched her sit down at the table without argument. "Are you feeling okay?"
"Hmm?" She looked up at him and brushed her hair out of her eyes, only to close them as her lips curled into a small smile. "Yes, just still a bit tired. I'll be fine after tea. Yesterday was a long one, is all."
Ed brought the teapot over to her and poured a cup. "Where do you want to go for lunch today?"
That confirmed it, the way the hint of tension around her eyes evaporated, lightening her expression into something more peaceful. "I'm not sure yet. We'll talk about it when you get to the office?"
Escape, the company, a break from the isolated monotony. He knew her reasons for staying there, for staying in the military, and he supposed he understood them. It didn't mean he liked it. Mustang's old command were little more than pariahs, but especially those who were directly involved in the conspiracy around Fuhrer Bradley's assassination.
Being the one still in Central, Riza bore the brunt of it, and Ed had seen the cool, distant politeness of others in Headquarters in their interactions with her. Her career was dead, poisoned by the unofficial scandal, and few wanted to risk that taint getting on their own. She'd tried to argue with him more than once that Mustang and Havoc had it worse, constantly on the road, rarely staying in one location for longer than a fortnight, following up on reports the military assigned them to investigate.
Ed wasn't so sure about that. Maybe things were different with them than they had been for Al and himself, but it had been easier to stay detached in their own world back then.
"Sounds like a plan to me," Ed told her, and buried the too-familiar wistful pang. He wouldn't wish for the way things were back then. He would never admit to it. Al didn't deserve that, and Ed was relieved, thrilled, that he'd been able to undo at least some of the damage he'd inflicted on his little brother.
But Al rarely had time for him anymore, not like he used to anyway. He had Winry, a new facet to an old relationship, and as the years went on, he stayed fewer nights in the house he shared with Ed, sitting up with Winry, with Pinako, helping care for the old woman as her years caught up with her health.
It wasn't fair to Al to wish that it was just them again, back on the road as they used to be.
It wasn't fair to Riza either.
At first, he had wanted to track down the brigadier general and deck him for tricking him into having to accept Riza's spare bedroom for a place to stay. Then he began to figure out why. He was there to take care of her, to pull her out of the isolation of the circumstance for at least a little while, to watch after her in the absence of the others the way Mustang had once watched after two headstrong teenagers who'd bitten off more than they could chew.
It was hard to admit to himself, let alone anyone else, that somewhere along the line, her house had become more his home than the one he shared with Al out east. Al was rarely there anymore, as was right. He had a family to take care of. Ed's family, but he was no longer sure where he fit into the scheme of things. They didn't need him.
But the captain, that was someone who needed him, someone he was entrusted to take care of, and those suspicions had been confirmed after his first stay there when Mustang called him after he'd returned to the east.
With the toast made and buttered, and a fresh cup of coffee in hand, Ed settled in at the table next to her, and promised himself, as he always did, that he'd get up at least a few times during his stay to see her off to work. He liked those moments before she turned into Captain Hawkeye, when her expression was drowsy while she nibbled at her toast, her hair down and around her shoulders, still clad in pajamas.
She looked over the rim of her teacup and gave him a curious little smile as their eyes met. "What?"
"Hmm?" Ed shook his head as he looked down, feeling as if he'd just been caught doing something he oughtn't. "Sorry, just woolgathering."
"Did your trip go all right?"
He shrugged. "It was a train ride. Long, vaguely uncomfortable, and a bit boring." Not like when I was traveling with Al. He pushed the thought away and smiled at her. "I suppose I was spoiled by the first train ride into Central. All that excitement, and it was just downhill from there."
Riza chuckled quietly. "Is there any way you could get your work moved to East HQ?" she asked. "That would save you from the monthly trips, and you'd have more time with your brother."
His smile froze as something knotted and chilled low in his stomach. She was tired of him staying there. He'd just found another place that felt like home and he was losing that too, wasn't he? "I don't mind the trips. All those years of traveling, I think I'd get restless if I stayed in one place too long. And Al can use a break from me to spend more time with Winry once in a while." He hesitated. "As much as I'm out here, I probably could start looking into an apartment. I can't keep imposing on your hospitality like this. It's been what, four years now?"
"You're not imposing." Her forehead had creased, and her voice was smaller than he'd expected. She looked down at her tea. "If that's what you want to do, I'll help you find a place this weekend, but I was just--"
"Riza." He cut her off, feeling the warmth creep back along his nerves as he relaxed. "I'm fine here. I like this arrangement. I was just worried that you were wanting your own space back."
She smiled, and he didn't like it. It was too hollow to be real. "I have more space than I know what to do with."
"Which is exactly why I'm staying," he told her, his voice softer than before.
The smile faded, but turned real before it disappeared. "How is everyone back East?"
"Your grandfather said he's sending a package to you later, but he didn't tell me what." Ed sipped his coffee. "Al's doing good, so's Winry and Sheska. Well, good enough in the circumstance. Grandma Pinako, not so much." He grimaced. "Last week, she didn't recognize Winry, and thought I was my father."
Riza winced. "How is Winry taking it?"
"Hard, which is expected. But she's dealing. She's got Al and Sheska, and it helps. Russell's still a jackass. Fletcher's done with school though, and he's still planning to go for a State Alchemist certification in a couple years, last I heard." He saw an odd change to her expression and arched and eyebrow. "What is it?"
"Hmm? Oh, nothing. It's just... I still have trouble remembering it's a civil appointment now," Riza said. "I was wondering why no one was trying to talk that little boy out of becoming a soldier."
"Heh." Ed got up to refill his mug. "I have my moments there too, especially when reports of skirmishes come in and I'm wondering for a moment if the State Alchemists will get sent in to deal with it. It doesn't pay anywhere near as much as it did, but it's a better job. Alchemy should be for the people. That's one thing the Parliament managed to get right, at least. Separating alchemy from the military."
"No arguments here."
Silence fell over the kitchen as conversation slipped to a pause.
"You still wanting to stay?" he asked.
"I'm still needed." Her smile was wry. "He doesn't need me at his back anymore, but he does need me here, and that's what matters." Riza sighed and sat back in her chair, looking at her empty plate. "Speaking of which, I should start getting ready for work." She set her cup down and smiled before looking up at him. "It's good to see you again, Edward."
"You too, Riza."
While she readied herself for work, he unpacked his suitcase. Even if he was only staying a week, even if he'd only brought a few changes of clothes, it made the place feel even more like home to not live out of a suitcase.
The spare bedroom was still called that, but it was more his room than anything else. The bookcase was filled beyond capacity, and the desk sported stacks of notebooks and alchemical text, although admittedly in a much neater state than he ever left it. Personal effects were still arranged on the top of the dresser as he'd left them, photographs of his family back east, a few elastic bands for his hair, combs and a toothbrush, little things that made the room his.
It was home.
He stretched out on the bed and rubbed the bridge of his nose as he fought back a yawn. He never slept as well on the trains as he used to, not without Al.
"Get some rest, Edward."
Riza's voice pulled him out of the daze he'd slipped into and he blinked, feeling groggy. More time had passed than he thought, if she was ready to walk out the door, her hair clipped up, clad in a perfectly pressed uniform.
"Maybe a bit." He gave her a rueful grin. "I'll still be there for lunch though."
"I look forward to it."
He waved as she left, and closed his eyes again, briefly roused as Black Hayate jumped up on the bed beside him.
"Yeah, yeah, missed ya too, mutt," he muttered and pushed him away before Hayate could lick his face. The dog settled for his hand instead, then stretched out beside him. He could spare a bit longer for a nap. After all, he could always extend his trip by a day or two if he had to make up for lost time.
Location: Central City, Hughes Household
Date: June 8, 1922
Time: 0810 hours
Gracia Hughes knew what a call from Headquarters on one's day off meant. Even before Maria Ross hung up, she was studying her morning tea, her mind far off and restructuring her plans for the day as she half-listened to her lover's end of the conversation.
"Give me a half-hour then," Maria said. Another pause. "I know. Bye."
Gracia looked over at the distinctive click of the receiver being returned to its cradle and gave the younger woman a small smile. "We'll have to reschedule our plans."
"I'm sorry," Maria told her, and Gracia closed her eyes at the feel of hands slipping over her shoulders, and a kiss planted to the crown of her head. "They're understaffed and lacking command with Major Harkins's promotion and transfer, and Captain Coldwell hasn't arrived yet, and Captain Larner is out sick..."
"Maria? It's okay, I understand," Gracia said as she tilted her head back to look at her, and rubbed her hand up Maria's arm. "I know how the military is. Go get dressed."
"It might only be a half-day, depending on the trains. Coldwell's connection was delayed," Maria said, giving her a quick kiss.
"We'll see what happens. Either way, it's no big deal." Gracia reached out and squeezed her hand. "It's part of being a military wife. I dealt with it with Maes, and I can deal with it now."
"I know." Maria closed her eyes as she kissed Gracia's fingertips.
"Now go get ready. They're waiting on you." Gracia looked at the clock on the wall and glanced up to the ceiling. "And I should probably see about getting Elysia out of bed."
"Let her sleep in. School's out for the summer now, let her have a bit of a vacation. She made high marks, she's earned it," Maria said.
"I still don't believe that you're not somehow conspiring with Maes to spoil that girl," Gracia teased as she stood from the table.
"Somebody had to do it, and since you're the one who figured out how to work that old camera of his..." Maria trailed off and shrugged with an easy grin. "I'll make this up to you tonight, promise." A hug and another quick kiss, then she was gone, retreating to their bedroom to ready herself for work.
Once she was gone, Gracia sighed, and allowed herself to indulge in a brief moment of disappointment she'd never admit to Maria. Against all her better judgment, she'd fallen for a career soldier. Again.
It wasn't anything she'd set out to do, what either of them had set out to find, but there it was and that was that. And there was a bitter little twist which every now and then reminded her that even though Maria wasn't assigned to any battlefield, neither was Maes, back then. An office job held only the illusion of promise, and nothing quite removed that quiet, deep fear of someday being told someone was never coming home again.
He'd not even been buried a year when she first met Maria, a chance crossing in the market, a long and harried day with an overtired daughter and feeling at the end of her wits. She had almost cried from relief when the woman introduced herself and offered a hand with the basket, offered to help distract Elysia and settle her down while Gracia settled her nerves.
A friendship born over tea; it had been a chilled day, with winter reminding everyone that it wasn't going down to spring without a fight. Overcast with a threat of rain, and a fog that seeped down to the bones and made even her bright kitchen feel dreary. But while tea warmed the blood and bones, the company warmed the room, and soon outings were no longer done with just her daughter, and she was even afforded moments and hours to herself while Maria stepped in to give her a breather.
In so many ways, in so many places, from her warm and open heart, from her strong and comforting presence, to the way she was quick with a smile and a laugh and easily conversed on Elysia's level of understanding, she'd filled in and soothed the raw, gaping places of emptiness that Maes had left behind in Gracia's life.
The first kiss, some years later, should have been a surprise to them both. But instead, it had felt natural, a logical progression and the way things should be.
She'd never planned to fall for career military again. She also knew life very rarely went according to one's wishes. Gracia could deal with interrupted days off, with the worries and doubts and overtime. The heart under the blue had been worth it once, and so it was again.
---
Chapter One
Because fate causes fortune, and fortune takes it away,
And then fortune causes nightmares, nightmares that make you crazy.
It's all right, baby, I'm doing the best that I can.
Location: East City, Rockbell Household
Date: June 8, 1922
Time: 0500 hours
"All right, Brother. I'll see you next week. I love you." Al smiled as he listened to Ed's reply. "Bye." He hung up the phone and yawned.
"Everything okay?" Winry asked, and Al closed his eyes as he felt her arms slip around his waist.
"Yeah, Brother just called to let me know he arrived." He turned a bit to drape an arm across her shoulders, and kissed her forehead. "Why don't you go back to bed? It's early yet. I'll see if Grandma needs anything, then I'll come join you?"
"Bit early, but too late," Winry said. "I should probably stay up to make sure Sheska doesn't oversleep. I think she was up late reading. Again."
Al chuckled. "She's like Brother sometimes when it comes to books. Come on. You can keep me company then while I get the coffee started."
"Mmm. Coffee. Have I mentioned yet that I love you?"
"Not in the last six hours."
She paused. "I was asleep the last six hours."
"Ah, that would certainly explain it then. In that case, I forgive you." He gave her an impish grin and hurried ahead to turn on the kitchen light, pausing only after he got there to look back down the hall at Winry.
"You're a bigger brat than Ed ever was."
"You mean you didn't know?" Al feigned shock.
"It's always the quiet ones," Winry muttered as she followed after him.
Location: East City, Tringham Household
Date: June 8, 1922
Time: 0530 hours
The nightmares were no longer a regular part of her sleeping hours. In fact, in the last couple of years, it would be safe for her to say that the nights without them were outnumbering the nights with. But sometimes, there were triggers.
The warm scent of the desert earth seeping up through the chilled air in the hours before dawn, mingled in a breeze of juniper and sage, with a distant hint of incense and ripening fruits that made up the spring weather of East City sometimes evened out in just the right balance.
And when the breeze would carry that balance through her open window, Liore came back, larger than life. Death, burial, shattered hope, chaos. Sometimes it wasn't the desert smells but the muffled orders of soldiers and tramp of feet with the occasional training excursion either getting underway or coming back in the late hours.
But it wasn't like before, the nights when she'd wake up drenched in sweat, too frightened to properly breathe, and running through dark halls looking for an escape. It wasn't like the nights in the past when she'd slip past the shadows and into their bedrooms to curl up in the corners on the floor to sleep.
The nightmares still left her soaked, breathless, trembling, but the house was safe. The room was safe. And Rose understood that if something made it not feel safe, all she had to do was call for them, and one or the other, but usually both brothers, would be there in moments.
They formed a haphazard little family, the three of them. Rose had fallen into a role of an elder sister or cousin, someone to provide a necessary woman's touch as she took care of the housework and they in turn took care of her.
It hadn't ever come about with a formal, official agreement. In a world on the brink of going mad, they gravitated toward one another for stability, along the single binding thread of mutual knowledge of the Elric brothers, and an assumption that the other was someone to trust, to protect.
It was Russell and Fletcher Rose had found when she finally made her way to the surface, drugged, dazed, panicked. They were the ones who came back with her, who shared in her fears and bewilderment as the three of them took a gravely wounded Ed to the hospital, along with someone they could only assume was Al. The younger boy had no visible injuries, but he was unconscious, barely more than skin and bones, and reacted to all stimuli as if it were extraordinarily painful.
It was Russell and Fletcher who kept her steady as soldiers filled the halls, who saw to it that she was tested, treated, lest Dante's drugs had any lingering ill effects. It was them she clung to when she realized her child was gone. And it was her they turned to for assurance that they hadn't left the Elrics to a narrowly-missed death, that there likely was nothing they could have done to change to the outcome.
She knew Ed, obviously, and that alone made her someone Russell felt he should watch after with the clear absence of anyone else who would or could do the job. Protect her for Ed, to do something for the older teen he'd secretly admired. Rose knew that; in their own ways, they both looked up to Ed, seeing so many good qualities they wished they had.
Rose paused outside Russell's bedroom door; he was still asleep yet. So was Fletcher. The seventeen-year-old had finished his schooling for the year. She waited there in the shadows between the two doorways, letting it sink in that this was home. This was safe.
The clock on the mantle in the parlor chimed once, marking the half-hour. That pulled her from her the quiet daze to prompt her to go start the coffee and breakfast, and she tried to recall if Russell was working out of the State Alchemist offices that day, or if he was needed on site further north for hands-on work with the irrigation project.
Location: Central City, Hawkeye Household
Date: June 8, 1922
Time: 0530 hours
By the time Ed had disembarked and called Al, and made his way from the station to Riza's house, it was only another half-hour before he knew her alarm would go off. Still, that was a half-hour she didn't need to be deprived of for her sleep, so he was quick to unlock the door and shush Black Hayate's excited yips before they could disturb her.
"Settle down, boy," he whispered as he crouched and skritched the small dog around the ears. Hayate whined in his efforts to stay quiet, and wagged his tail so hard his entire body wiggled. Ed jerked his head back just in time to narrowly avoid getting a slobbery tongue up the side of his face, and took that as a sign to move on.
"Come on, let's get you outside." He left his suitcase in the hall and led the dog to the back door. The percolator was already out on the counter, and a quick check proved that Riza had prepared the coffee grounds before turning in the night before. He plugged it in and turned on the gas stove to heat the water for her tea.
Ed crept down the hallway to the spare bedroom and set his suitcase just inside the door before going to the other end and looking in the dark bedroom. It was silent, and he could just make out her shape under the covers by the light from the streetlamp outside filtered in through a small gap in the drapes.
Everything was just as it should be, and that was what mattered.
Ed didn't try to prepare breakfast; most of his attempts at cooking had proved to be colossal failures, such as one evening when he thought he would surprise her with dinner. Needless to say, they wound up going out instead, and his contribution to cooking remained solidly along the lines of purchasing meals and bringing them back.
He did know how to feed Black Hayate though, and opened the can of food before letting him back inside. Living with the captain for a week or so out of every month for the last four years, Ed was familiar with her training routine for him. But before he could make the dog go through the process, he perked his ears and looked behind Ed to bark, his tail wagging.
"Good morning, Edward," Riza said, her tone drowsy.
"Morning." He cast a guilty look over his shoulder at her. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you."
She waved it off and walked to the stove. "I don't think you did. I don't always sleep until the alarm goes off."
"Sit down," he told her. "I'll get that." He put Hayate's food dish down and reached around her to pick up the steaming teakettle. "I can't cook breakfast, so I'll see to your tea."
"I'm just having toast and jam this morning, I think."
"Toast I can do," Ed told her, and frowned a bit as he watched her sit down at the table without argument. "Are you feeling okay?"
"Hmm?" She looked up at him and brushed her hair out of her eyes, only to close them as her lips curled into a small smile. "Yes, just still a bit tired. I'll be fine after tea. Yesterday was a long one, is all."
Ed brought the teapot over to her and poured a cup. "Where do you want to go for lunch today?"
That confirmed it, the way the hint of tension around her eyes evaporated, lightening her expression into something more peaceful. "I'm not sure yet. We'll talk about it when you get to the office?"
Escape, the company, a break from the isolated monotony. He knew her reasons for staying there, for staying in the military, and he supposed he understood them. It didn't mean he liked it. Mustang's old command were little more than pariahs, but especially those who were directly involved in the conspiracy around Fuhrer Bradley's assassination.
Being the one still in Central, Riza bore the brunt of it, and Ed had seen the cool, distant politeness of others in Headquarters in their interactions with her. Her career was dead, poisoned by the unofficial scandal, and few wanted to risk that taint getting on their own. She'd tried to argue with him more than once that Mustang and Havoc had it worse, constantly on the road, rarely staying in one location for longer than a fortnight, following up on reports the military assigned them to investigate.
Ed wasn't so sure about that. Maybe things were different with them than they had been for Al and himself, but it had been easier to stay detached in their own world back then.
"Sounds like a plan to me," Ed told her, and buried the too-familiar wistful pang. He wouldn't wish for the way things were back then. He would never admit to it. Al didn't deserve that, and Ed was relieved, thrilled, that he'd been able to undo at least some of the damage he'd inflicted on his little brother.
But Al rarely had time for him anymore, not like he used to anyway. He had Winry, a new facet to an old relationship, and as the years went on, he stayed fewer nights in the house he shared with Ed, sitting up with Winry, with Pinako, helping care for the old woman as her years caught up with her health.
It wasn't fair to Al to wish that it was just them again, back on the road as they used to be.
It wasn't fair to Riza either.
At first, he had wanted to track down the brigadier general and deck him for tricking him into having to accept Riza's spare bedroom for a place to stay. Then he began to figure out why. He was there to take care of her, to pull her out of the isolation of the circumstance for at least a little while, to watch after her in the absence of the others the way Mustang had once watched after two headstrong teenagers who'd bitten off more than they could chew.
It was hard to admit to himself, let alone anyone else, that somewhere along the line, her house had become more his home than the one he shared with Al out east. Al was rarely there anymore, as was right. He had a family to take care of. Ed's family, but he was no longer sure where he fit into the scheme of things. They didn't need him.
But the captain, that was someone who needed him, someone he was entrusted to take care of, and those suspicions had been confirmed after his first stay there when Mustang called him after he'd returned to the east.
With the toast made and buttered, and a fresh cup of coffee in hand, Ed settled in at the table next to her, and promised himself, as he always did, that he'd get up at least a few times during his stay to see her off to work. He liked those moments before she turned into Captain Hawkeye, when her expression was drowsy while she nibbled at her toast, her hair down and around her shoulders, still clad in pajamas.
She looked over the rim of her teacup and gave him a curious little smile as their eyes met. "What?"
"Hmm?" Ed shook his head as he looked down, feeling as if he'd just been caught doing something he oughtn't. "Sorry, just woolgathering."
"Did your trip go all right?"
He shrugged. "It was a train ride. Long, vaguely uncomfortable, and a bit boring." Not like when I was traveling with Al. He pushed the thought away and smiled at her. "I suppose I was spoiled by the first train ride into Central. All that excitement, and it was just downhill from there."
Riza chuckled quietly. "Is there any way you could get your work moved to East HQ?" she asked. "That would save you from the monthly trips, and you'd have more time with your brother."
His smile froze as something knotted and chilled low in his stomach. She was tired of him staying there. He'd just found another place that felt like home and he was losing that too, wasn't he? "I don't mind the trips. All those years of traveling, I think I'd get restless if I stayed in one place too long. And Al can use a break from me to spend more time with Winry once in a while." He hesitated. "As much as I'm out here, I probably could start looking into an apartment. I can't keep imposing on your hospitality like this. It's been what, four years now?"
"You're not imposing." Her forehead had creased, and her voice was smaller than he'd expected. She looked down at her tea. "If that's what you want to do, I'll help you find a place this weekend, but I was just--"
"Riza." He cut her off, feeling the warmth creep back along his nerves as he relaxed. "I'm fine here. I like this arrangement. I was just worried that you were wanting your own space back."
She smiled, and he didn't like it. It was too hollow to be real. "I have more space than I know what to do with."
"Which is exactly why I'm staying," he told her, his voice softer than before.
The smile faded, but turned real before it disappeared. "How is everyone back East?"
"Your grandfather said he's sending a package to you later, but he didn't tell me what." Ed sipped his coffee. "Al's doing good, so's Winry and Sheska. Well, good enough in the circumstance. Grandma Pinako, not so much." He grimaced. "Last week, she didn't recognize Winry, and thought I was my father."
Riza winced. "How is Winry taking it?"
"Hard, which is expected. But she's dealing. She's got Al and Sheska, and it helps. Russell's still a jackass. Fletcher's done with school though, and he's still planning to go for a State Alchemist certification in a couple years, last I heard." He saw an odd change to her expression and arched and eyebrow. "What is it?"
"Hmm? Oh, nothing. It's just... I still have trouble remembering it's a civil appointment now," Riza said. "I was wondering why no one was trying to talk that little boy out of becoming a soldier."
"Heh." Ed got up to refill his mug. "I have my moments there too, especially when reports of skirmishes come in and I'm wondering for a moment if the State Alchemists will get sent in to deal with it. It doesn't pay anywhere near as much as it did, but it's a better job. Alchemy should be for the people. That's one thing the Parliament managed to get right, at least. Separating alchemy from the military."
"No arguments here."
Silence fell over the kitchen as conversation slipped to a pause.
"You still wanting to stay?" he asked.
"I'm still needed." Her smile was wry. "He doesn't need me at his back anymore, but he does need me here, and that's what matters." Riza sighed and sat back in her chair, looking at her empty plate. "Speaking of which, I should start getting ready for work." She set her cup down and smiled before looking up at him. "It's good to see you again, Edward."
"You too, Riza."
While she readied herself for work, he unpacked his suitcase. Even if he was only staying a week, even if he'd only brought a few changes of clothes, it made the place feel even more like home to not live out of a suitcase.
The spare bedroom was still called that, but it was more his room than anything else. The bookcase was filled beyond capacity, and the desk sported stacks of notebooks and alchemical text, although admittedly in a much neater state than he ever left it. Personal effects were still arranged on the top of the dresser as he'd left them, photographs of his family back east, a few elastic bands for his hair, combs and a toothbrush, little things that made the room his.
It was home.
He stretched out on the bed and rubbed the bridge of his nose as he fought back a yawn. He never slept as well on the trains as he used to, not without Al.
"Get some rest, Edward."
Riza's voice pulled him out of the daze he'd slipped into and he blinked, feeling groggy. More time had passed than he thought, if she was ready to walk out the door, her hair clipped up, clad in a perfectly pressed uniform.
"Maybe a bit." He gave her a rueful grin. "I'll still be there for lunch though."
"I look forward to it."
He waved as she left, and closed his eyes again, briefly roused as Black Hayate jumped up on the bed beside him.
"Yeah, yeah, missed ya too, mutt," he muttered and pushed him away before Hayate could lick his face. The dog settled for his hand instead, then stretched out beside him. He could spare a bit longer for a nap. After all, he could always extend his trip by a day or two if he had to make up for lost time.
Location: Central City, Hughes Household
Date: June 8, 1922
Time: 0810 hours
Gracia Hughes knew what a call from Headquarters on one's day off meant. Even before Maria Ross hung up, she was studying her morning tea, her mind far off and restructuring her plans for the day as she half-listened to her lover's end of the conversation.
"Give me a half-hour then," Maria said. Another pause. "I know. Bye."
Gracia looked over at the distinctive click of the receiver being returned to its cradle and gave the younger woman a small smile. "We'll have to reschedule our plans."
"I'm sorry," Maria told her, and Gracia closed her eyes at the feel of hands slipping over her shoulders, and a kiss planted to the crown of her head. "They're understaffed and lacking command with Major Harkins's promotion and transfer, and Captain Coldwell hasn't arrived yet, and Captain Larner is out sick..."
"Maria? It's okay, I understand," Gracia said as she tilted her head back to look at her, and rubbed her hand up Maria's arm. "I know how the military is. Go get dressed."
"It might only be a half-day, depending on the trains. Coldwell's connection was delayed," Maria said, giving her a quick kiss.
"We'll see what happens. Either way, it's no big deal." Gracia reached out and squeezed her hand. "It's part of being a military wife. I dealt with it with Maes, and I can deal with it now."
"I know." Maria closed her eyes as she kissed Gracia's fingertips.
"Now go get ready. They're waiting on you." Gracia looked at the clock on the wall and glanced up to the ceiling. "And I should probably see about getting Elysia out of bed."
"Let her sleep in. School's out for the summer now, let her have a bit of a vacation. She made high marks, she's earned it," Maria said.
"I still don't believe that you're not somehow conspiring with Maes to spoil that girl," Gracia teased as she stood from the table.
"Somebody had to do it, and since you're the one who figured out how to work that old camera of his..." Maria trailed off and shrugged with an easy grin. "I'll make this up to you tonight, promise." A hug and another quick kiss, then she was gone, retreating to their bedroom to ready herself for work.
Once she was gone, Gracia sighed, and allowed herself to indulge in a brief moment of disappointment she'd never admit to Maria. Against all her better judgment, she'd fallen for a career soldier. Again.
It wasn't anything she'd set out to do, what either of them had set out to find, but there it was and that was that. And there was a bitter little twist which every now and then reminded her that even though Maria wasn't assigned to any battlefield, neither was Maes, back then. An office job held only the illusion of promise, and nothing quite removed that quiet, deep fear of someday being told someone was never coming home again.
He'd not even been buried a year when she first met Maria, a chance crossing in the market, a long and harried day with an overtired daughter and feeling at the end of her wits. She had almost cried from relief when the woman introduced herself and offered a hand with the basket, offered to help distract Elysia and settle her down while Gracia settled her nerves.
A friendship born over tea; it had been a chilled day, with winter reminding everyone that it wasn't going down to spring without a fight. Overcast with a threat of rain, and a fog that seeped down to the bones and made even her bright kitchen feel dreary. But while tea warmed the blood and bones, the company warmed the room, and soon outings were no longer done with just her daughter, and she was even afforded moments and hours to herself while Maria stepped in to give her a breather.
In so many ways, in so many places, from her warm and open heart, from her strong and comforting presence, to the way she was quick with a smile and a laugh and easily conversed on Elysia's level of understanding, she'd filled in and soothed the raw, gaping places of emptiness that Maes had left behind in Gracia's life.
The first kiss, some years later, should have been a surprise to them both. But instead, it had felt natural, a logical progression and the way things should be.
She'd never planned to fall for career military again. She also knew life very rarely went according to one's wishes. Gracia could deal with interrupted days off, with the worries and doubts and overtime. The heart under the blue had been worth it once, and so it was again.
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