A/N: This story will contain mild slash, as I said. It's not until much later on, so if you read stories for the story, you should be good to go. If you read stories for boys kissing, you might have to wait a bit. This isn't a "slashfic" – it's more of a general friendship/mild angst – but it does contain slash. As I specified, hints of HughesxEd and HughesxRoy. Mostly, though, the main focus is parental!RoyEd. Just thought I'd give a heads up. ;)
That aside, I hope my horrid writing doesn't kill your brain. (:
"True strength lies in submission which permits one to dedicate his life, through devotion, to something beyond himself." – Henry Miller
It was almost noble, he supposed, to end up where he did.
Clutching his side desperately, he sank further down the wall, painting it with thick streaks of blood. He gave a small grimace as his legs continued to provide him with questionable support, head spinning, his mind settling somewhere on the outskirts of fainting, threatening to let him go at any moment.
He'd lost too much blood already. It felt like all he could feel was blood - wet, sticky warmth slicking his hair against his face and plastering his clothes to his ravaged body. The metallic taste was no longer a discomfort so much as another thing his body had grown accustomed to enduring. This wasn't particularly unsettling, so much as how he'd come to be in this position.
So much for their mission. He'd just as soon die for someone else. Someone whom he hadn't grown up alongside and promised everything to. He'd die for a cause besides his own. After all he'd been through, all he'd taken from Alphonse, he was willing to die for the sake of saving a man he'd met along the way.
It was noble, he reminded himself. He'd saved Hughes's life, after all…
His mind reeled again as he thought of everything. If he hadn't put off his going to Dublith… If he hadn't stayed with Hughes and grown that much more willing to do anything for the man he now loved. Maybe he wouldn't have wound up letting down the single most important person in his life…
And then, he smiled. Maybe it was true, what they said. You grow to accept it. If – or when – he died here, maybe the Colonel and Hughes could be there for his brother… He wished he could have some final message, a way to tell them.
But he didn't. And that was okay. Everything was okay. He would die to save someone he loved. And that certainly amounted to something.
And who knew? He though blearily, his internal vision fading as soon as he lost all awareness of his body. Maybe Hughes would go on to push the Colonel to the top…
Maybe he smiled. Maybe he only wanted to. Or maybe he was merely happier. With the situation being what it was, it didn't take much for him to admit that he'd grown to love the Colonel, too.
As all he knew began to fade into the tell-tale numbness and black, his final image was that of a glowing, healthy, golden-haired boy His copper eyes were bright and radiant - an ideal final vision to Edward - and he was happy and alive beside Hughes. Happy, alive and whole.
"I'm sorry, Alphonse…"
"Elysia! Joseph! Mindy! Over here!" Came the cry from the kitchen.
The three of them answered hastily, running to where they were summoned. The first two stopped directly in front of the man who summoned them and broke into an awkward military salute, while the third skidded on the floor, tripping over her shoes in her haste, and into them.
The result was a hailstorm of scrambling, kicking, biting, hair pulling, and crying. One could almost see the cloud of fury swirling around them – angry and howling - not unlike a hurricane.
Hughes dropped his spoon into the mixing bowl and quietly sighed before reaching down and yanking apart the two warring children.
"Come on, you two, knock it off! If you can't get along, then you can't have any cupcakes!"
Upon registering this, the two of them furiously nodded, the tears already drying on their reddened faces. Sometimes it paid to get to the point when it came to children. Bruised skin wasn't a big deal. A loss of cupcakes, on the other hand….
Off to the side, and now safe of the two fighting youngsters, the third child sat watching, wide eyed and very obviously amused.
"Are you hurt, Elysia!? Daddy's so sorry! C'mere, sweetie!"
Elysia cringed slightly as her father gave her a very big, very wet kiss on the forehead. "Daddddyyyy! I'm fine! They'we the ones who were fighting." She pointed an innocent, but somehow still accusing finger at the other two.
Some thirty minutes later, Maes had decided that his daughter was, indeed, fine, and resumed mixing, occasionally calling upon the three of them to deliver such things as eggs or milk.
Milk.
Edward, a quiet spectator in the madness that was Hughes' kitchen, held his nose and watched with a grimace as the man carefully measured and poured the damnable substance. All he could do was picture the stuff coming out of a cow's udder. Whose idea was it, anyways? Did someone just glance at the underside of a cow and think, "Hey, I should drink what comes out!"?
"Ed, could you throw this away for me?" Hughes asked, handing him the empty bottle.
Edward took a step back, growling, and posed himself, ready to kill.
Hughes yelped, as though something very sharp had just poked him in the rear. "Okay! Sorry!"
Edward gave a final growl of recognition and resumed his normal stance. Hughes turned away with a "Sheesh!"
Some people just didn't understand.
--
"Thanks for your help, kid," Hughes said as he gave the teenager's hair a gentle ruffle.
Ed didn't growl at this, though, from his expression, even Elysia could see that he wanted to.
"Stop treating me like I'm her age, dammit!" Edward grumbled, a faint flush appearing on his the tan of his cheeks.
Hughes sighed. "Trust me, Ed, I'm doing all I can to remember you're as young as you are."
Ed was suddenly, and quite unexpectedly met with citrine eyes smiling warmly at him. While the expression was comforting, and more than welcome in his irritated state, he was unsettled by an emotion to them that he couldn't place.
Not that he had ever been good at deciphering emotion – it was a whole world he knew nothing of. Winry would have to scream her lungs out and hurl a wrench or two before he understood she was angry.
But this, he understood, was something he had the capacity to place. It seemed familiar, somehow, the feeling he got from the Lieutenant Colonel's gaze. He wasn't sure if it was because he'd seen it before, or if it was simply something that just naturally came to him.
And then Edward realized he was overanalyzing the emotion he thought he saw expressed in someone's eyes. The realization was a lot more humbling than it out to have been. He nearly flushed deeper. Sheesh. What was wrong with him today?
Hughes straightened up, his normal composure returned, and burst into a grin. "Now that Elysia's friends are gone, the five of us can just have a nice, sit-down family dinner! I'm telling you, Edward, Gracia's going to be making the best roast beef you've ever eaten!"
Edward just smiled and nodded, his mind still engaged in thought – this one, slightly more logical.
'Just what did he mean by that…? Doing all he can to remember I'm as young as I am…'
The door flew open then, putting an abrupt halt to Ed's confused, half-formed thoughts, and he looked up to see a very familiar pair of shapes in the doorway.
"Broooooootherrrrrr!"
Alphonse stumbled in the door, hunched over, and ran in to stand behind the bewildered Hughes.
"Oh, so I'm too small to use as a human shield?!" Ed growled, turning his gaze back to the doorway, where a very irate-looking Colonel Mustang stood clutching the doorframe.
While the Colonel was usually quietly composed, he never masked his irritation easily. Right now, however, he didn't so much as try. From Al's desperate, hunched over form, and the three, perfectly spaced pink-red lines across the Colonel's cheek, Ed didn't need to ask any questions.
"Al…"
"Brother, please!"
"What's going on?" Hughes inquired, genuinely bewildered. Gracia had poked her head in, and while she knew better than to ask when it came to her boys, there was no doubt that she sure wanted to.
"Al brought back another-"
"No! I swear I didn't! I left it outside!"
"Alphonse, that beast attacked me!" Roy hissed, stepping into the hall.
"You have to believe me, Colonel, sir!"
Hughes sighed, finally understanding what was going on. "Roy, calm down, you're scaring him."
"He's not scared for himself, dammit! I'm going to kill that thing - "
"Roy!"
It was Gracia who yelled this time, hands on her hips, obviously meaning business. "I don't want a cat in here anymore than you do, but you are not allowed to - "
"Damn straight he's not!" Maes interjected.
"Uncle Roy's gonna kiww the kitty? No!"
"I wasn't actually going to kill it, just get the damn thing out of him! It doesn't belong in the house, and more importantly, it could scratch his seal or - "
Hughes held up his hands, silently putting Roy's rant to an end. "Alphonse says he doesn't have a kitten inside him. He's telling the truth. I'll look in and check if you want."
At this, everyone quieted, silently deciding that this was the best solution. Al sighed and reached up, taking off his helmet, and knelt down to offer the Lieutenant Colonel a look inside.
Maes peered for a prolonged moment, searching, and then pulled his head back out, turning to their bemused audience.
"Al's telling the truth. He doesn't have anything inside him. Sheesh, Roy. Slow day at the office?" He shot an accusing glare at his best friend. Roy shrugged, unaffected. Maes sighed.
"From the looks of it, though, I think the kitten had an accident, Al. You might want to go upstairs and get cleaned up. Or put a litter box in there." Maes smirked, and Al hunched over and squeaked in embarrassment. "Y-Yes, sir!"
And then, in a voice only Maes could hear, a quiet "thank you, sir."
Al all but ran up the stairs, and as Ed prepared to follow him, he was yanked back by the hem of his jacket.
"Oh, no you don't, kid! You're helping Gracia with dinner! You, too, Roy!"
The two of them sighed, turning to face each other, for once in agreement. "Hughes is a slavedriver," Edward grumbled.
Roy sighed heavily. "Kid, you have no idea." He rubbed his temples and undid his jacket, throwing it haphazardly onto a chair behind him before following Ed into the kitchen.
Maes simply sighed as he turned to go upstairs, and as he turned the corner, broke out in a small, serene smile before pushing open the door to Ed and Al's temporary bedroom.
His smile extended as Alphonse walked up to him, and offered his hand to the small, furry package in the boy's hands.
"What can I say…? I've always had a soft spot for the little guys."
A/N: Well, I'd say I hope you enjoyed, but I'm not sure it's entirely enjoyable just yet. (: But it's off to a start, at least. I have a few more chapters written, so hopefully I'll be able to finish this before too long.
