Strange, isn't it? Each man's life touches
so many other lives.
When he isn't around he leaves an
awful hole, doesn't he?
- It's A Wonderful Life
-December, 2001-
Roy Mustang stood in the eye of a hurricane; a single spot of relative calm surrounded by chaos. It was December 23rd, and he was standing in F.A.O. Schwartz —the biggest toy store in New York City— looking nothing like the calculating Colonel he usually was and every bit the hapless, would-be father figure he'd unexpectedly become.
"This is what happens when you procrastinate."
A point gently made by Hawkeye, who stepped to his aide and broke Roy's stupor.
"I wasn't procrastinating, I was trying to formulate a plan." He replied, looking around at the mad crush around them, the moving masses a sea of people, boxes, bags, bows.
"We should've done this a month ago."
"He wasn't speaking any more a month ago than he is now."
Riza sighed, the Colonol was right. The boy had been in their care for two months, and had not spoken a single word to anyone since being found at the lab in Helsinki. He was cognizant —hyper aware and devastatingly reactionary. The smallest upset or deviation from routine would send him rocketing into full, visceral outburst. He destroyed everything he touched. When he started ripping out clumps of his golden hair was when he was shackled to his hospital bed for a week. He was responsive and affected, but despite Central's and Dr. Marcoh's efforts, he would not speak.
The question had finally been raised wether or not the child could be mute or mentally disabled, the first of which could not be determined without examinations where he would likely become violent. The second of which had seemed more likely due to the boy's routine of eat, sleep, stare at the wall, stare out the window, refuse to speak to anyone.
Stare at his mis-matched hands.
Stare at his mis-matched feet.
Riza has looked into grief groups, specifically ones whose members were children with deformities. But his fragile temper and highly irregular abnormality gave her pause.
Was he ready to go outside?
He had not left the walls of the hospital since his arrival. Hawkeye marveled soberly at the sprawling conglomeration of toys, games, electronics, and other makings of a child's fantasy world and said,
"We know nothing about him. He has no memory, and we have barely any communication with him. Where do we even start here?"
The corner of Roy's mouth worked in puzzled contemplation and he sighed dejectedly as he looked at Riza.
"We don't even know if he knows what Christmas is."
"How'd shopping go?" Hughes asked as he stirred powder creamer into his coffee with plummeting enthusiasm. They stood outside the boy's hospital room, watching him through the glass as he sat on his bed and stared at his steel right hand.
Roy matched Hughes's euphoria. "Horribly. We got there and looked around and realized neither of us knows what the hell we're doing. He's been here for months now, we don't even know his name for Christ's sake." Mustang shook his head in bitter disgust. "Everyone says we saved this kid, but did we really? He can't speak, he wants to be alone all the time, he's too dangerous to bring outside, we don't even know what he likes. Hobbies, interests, nothing. You know they stopped replacing the mirror in his room's bathroom because he kept shattering it? Every day I watch this kid stare at his arm in leg in repulsion and I start wondering if convincing Bradley not to put a bullet in him was really the right thing to do. Did we really save this kid?"
Hughes dumped his coffee in a nearby trashcan, having lost any appetite. They continued to watch quietly as a hospital orderly entered the room and deposited a stack of fresh linens on a nearby table before turning to exit. As he left the room, something fell from his pocket and flapped to the floor, a pamphlet. Hughes almost moved to enter the room and scoop up the paper when Mustang's hand clapped on his arm. The pamphlet had the child's full attention, and the two men watched as the boy slid off his bed and snatched up the tri-fold only to resume his perch, this time with reading material.
"Get Riza." He said quietly, and Maes was gone.
Two days later the pamphlet was accompanied by stacks of books brought from Central's library. Every visit to the psychologist where the boy was encouraged to read from children's books or flash cards turned up empty handed, and what they'd originally pegged as disability or memory loss was actually offense. The child wasn't handicapped, he was showing signs of above-average intelligence.
The pamphlet was for an exhibit at the Natural History Museum about the solar system, and it was the first time Roy and Riza had seen the child read anything, let alone show an interest in something. Taking him to the exhibit was out of the question, but they immediately pulled books on a multitude of sciences to see what he might gravitate towards.
Their plan worked, and on Christmas Day he said nothing as he methodically tore through textbooks on space travel, the cosmos, quantum physics, human anatomy, auto mechanics, electricity, and books speaking in length on the simple question, 'What is life?'.
He was pouring over the human anatomy book again when Riza and Roy entered the room and stood near the end of his bed.
"We're glad to see something's captured your interest," Hawkeye started, motioning to the textbook in his lap. "Anything you wanna talk about?"
Her question was met with a blank stare.
Riza looked back over her shoulder at Mustang standing behind her. They had hoped they'd be able to get something out of him. They bid the boy goodnight and turned to leave.
"Can you fix me?"
A pair of hearts stopped and heads snapped around. The astounded Colonel and his Lieutenant stood mouths agape in disbelief. The look of expectation was something they'd never seen from the mysterious boy, his expression as though he'd asked the most casual of questions.
He repeated himself. "Can you fix me?"
Roy and Riza looked at eachother, both knowing the answer and not knowing how to respond. The end of the bed sagged under the weight of Hawkeye cautiously settling, Mustang poised behind her with one hand on her shoulder and the other behind his back, holding the gun he tucked in his uniform's waistband.
"We wish we could fix your arm and leg, but we can't." She started carefully. "We don't know how this happened, and we don't know how to remove the limbs."
The boys gaze fell to the anatomy book in his lap, and it clicked in Roy's mind. The kid was looking for answers.
"We want to help you," Mustang said, "but we need your participation. We're not here to hurt you, I swear it. We can't fix your limbs, but we can help you learn to live with them."
The dejected boy remarked bitterly, "What's the point of living when I'm like this? You saw what I did. Everyone's afraid of me."
This sparked something in Riza.
"You don't want to hurt people?" She leaned in. The military had seen enough to know this child was created as a weapon. The boy peered up at her.
"I can't stop it."
Hawkeye's stomach dropped; such an admission meant that the child would have to be destroyed. He was far too great a liability, and Riza turned to look at Roy again with wet eyes, knowing the grave look he wore. Her sad gaze shifted to horror with Roy's counter.
"What if I could offer you revenge?"
Riza gaped at him.
"I can't fix you kid, but if you work with us, —listen to your therapist, do what the doctors say, fully participate— then I swear to you I'll spend the rest of my life finding the person responsible for this. And when I do, I'll hand him over to you, and you can do whatever you want with him."
Riza shot up from her seat on the bed.
"Sir you can't be serious!"
His gaze never faltered from the boy's.
"What you did back there at the lab, all those people you killed... could you do that again?"
The boy nodded.
"Colonel Mustang I MUST protest!" Riza insisted, her request falling on deaf ears.
"I wanna offer you a job kid—"
"—Roy stop!"
Riza's rich chocolate eyes seared into Mustang, the picture of disgusted astonishment. He finally looked at her, challenging her look of disapproval.
"He is a CHILD." She admonished. "You're not seriously suggesting signing him up for a life most established adults aren't capable of doing, are you?!"
He looked beyond her again and Riza moved to drag him out of the room.
"You have a name kid?"
"I think it's Edward."
Roy was satisfied and he grinned at the boy, who picked up another book and resumed his studies as the Colonel was ushered out by his fuming subordinate.
Riza didn't turn on him until they were secured in the confines of his office, away from prying eyes or ears.
"A State Alchemist?! He's twelve years old!"
"He'll be a little older by the time he's ready."
"No one under the age of 30 has ever qualified, and that's besides the point! You just promised a child revenge in exchange for his services as an assassin for the government!"
Roy advanced on Riza and grabbed her shoulders.
"He's got nothing else to live for!" He hollered. Hawkeye, usually the picture of stoic strength, faltered under Mustang's desperate fury. "You heard what he said, he can't stop himself from killing. It's pretty obvious that's what he was created to do, we need to give him a purpose. Put him to use taking down our enemies, and I'll use our resources to try and make him whole again. We can't give him his limbs back, but maybe we can find his family. Maybe we can give him some answers, and maybe someday he'll be able to rejoin society."
Riza gazed at him with cautious optimism, it was she who leapt in front of King Bradley's gun to shield the boy, but she never thought this was the life she'd be signing him up for. Roy's faith in the underdogs of the world was one of the things that made Riza love him, and she slid her arms around him to bury her face in his shoulder. A kiss pressed to her head.
"Did you see what he was reading when we left?" Roy remarked. "Quantum physics. Yea most adults would never be equipped to be a State Alchemist, but most adults can't get their heads around quantum physics either. And here's this pre-teen drinking it in like it's an issue of Playboy. We've seen how deadly he is, how cautious he is, and now I've got reason to suspect he could test at near-genius IQ levels. He'll be a way better State Alchemist than I am, he may be the best the military's ever seen."
"But is that a good life for him?" Riza pulled back to look at Roy.
"Right now it's the only life we can give him."
"I wish we could've given him a better Christmas."
Mustang kissed her.
"It wasn't so bad, I think books make some of the best gifts." He said. "And look what we got in return, we got his name."
"You're not gonna say something dorky like calling this a Christmas miracle, are you?"
"This was a mild Christmas shit-show. But maybe next year will be easier, maybe by then he'll be like other kids his age and want video games or a snow board or a drum kit or something."
"If he ever becomes that normal, let alone in only a year, it really will be a miracle."
- Years later -
A warm hand slid over Edward's chest and his mind went live to a soft kiss on his cheek. His eyes didn't open, but he breathed and took the warm hand in his metal one and pressed his mouth to Winry's palm.
"I'll make us some coffee." She said, and turned to slide out of bed only to be stopped by an arm curled around her hips. She was pulled backward and he sat up to meet her, pressing soft kisses to her bare shoulder, her neck, her temple. She was soft and warm in their tangled sheets, with messy hair and shining eyes from their happy reunion the night before. He was supposed to be gone for a month, he surprised her by coming home almost a week early.
"Wanna give me my Christmas present now?" He murmured.
"I thought I gave it to you last night."
"The Rangers season tickets are great," he said as his hand slid under the sheets and his thumb brushed her nipple. Edward's mouth feathered over her ear. "But that's not what I'm talking about. Get over here."
Winry grinned as he pinned her beneath him, and when she snaked a hand down between them he closed his eyes and sank down on her with a deep groan.
Snow fell silently over the city that night, and Edward and Winry sat together on the floor in warmth of the fire place and the glow the Christmas tree. He had cathedral ceilings and Winry took full advantage the day she told Edward she wanted the tallest tree they could get in the apartment. She had to settle for 20 feet, and it had to be fake.
"It's a nice tree," He said to her as he sipped his scotch. "But you see why it had to be assembled in here right? There's no way we could've put a real 20 ft tree through the balcony doors. Not when we're 7 stories up."
The crush of lights, garland, and ornaments coating every inch of the tree was enough to make any department store visual team jealous, and more than made up for its lack of earthly authenticity.
Winry laid her head on Edward's shoulder and gazed at the tree lovingly.
"Where are we gonna store it?"
"Not a clue. Maybe we'll donate it to a museum or a church and just buy a new one next year."
The idea had merit.
"Do Roy and Riza get fake or real trees?"
"We never had one when I was a kid, I don't think they get one now either."
This surprised Winry and she sat up.
"No tree? Ever?" She puzzled.
"Christmas was weird for me as a kid. Every year I knew there was a family somewhere missing me, a family whose Christmas had never been the same since I was taken. What I wanted every year couldn't be put under a tree. I wanted answers, and Roy tried but each year passed and I never got them. Then you came along and changed everything. Now I've got a tree that can't fit through the door."
"And a girlfriend who'll see that you never go without a tree again."
"I don't need a tree," Edward said, his voice dipped low and he murmured in her ear. "Just do that thing you did this morning and I'll be all set."
A/N:
I started thinking about this on my flight from New York on the 23rd, and decided to spit this out quickly. I know, I know, it's not the wedding. I'm working on that.
This was just a tiny drabble I thought would be interesting to see.
Merry Christmas everyone!
-C