One Little Flinch

a fullmetal alchemist fanfic

YAJJ

Date: 2/6/2018 4:20 pm

A/N: Written for ParentalFMAWeek day 6: Closure. One thing that has always bothered me about FMA is that Roy, a loving dad, punched his own child across the face, and nothing comes of it. There's made no mention of it... so I wanted to change that. Ed probably forgives Roy a little too readily, but he's also had a lot worse betrayals, and it wasn't the worst thing that had happened to him. At least, he figured, Roy made mention of it, and was clearly remorseful.

Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist.

Roy genuinely enjoyed it when the Elrics came to Central for a visit. He generally, really, and actually enjoyed it. He and Riza (especially Riza) got along well with Winry, Alphonse always had great stories from his travels, their kids adored everyone on the team and loved distracting them to hear stories (they spent a lot of time on Breda's lap, as he was the best storyteller on the team), and once Roy was no longer Ed's commanding officer, he and Ed got along rather splendidly.

Oh, sure, there were days when Ed simply couldn't stand Roy's voice, and days where Roy's migraines were acting up, and Ed's rambunctiousness made them even worse, and sometimes they argued as if Ed was still the Fullmetal Alchemist. But also, Roy was no longer the authority figure that Ed was determined to act out against, and domestic life had calmed down all that energy he used to have, and he'd taken after Maes and just loved showing off his kids and wife. The camera always on his hand or around his neck was proof of that.

It wasn't a headache when Ed stopped in anymore, it was actually pleasant. Roy could even admit to himself, back in the recesses of his mind, that there were days he wished Ed and Al were his own. Days that he imagined that, in a way, they were. Their kids, five-year-old Thom, four-year-old Sarah, and one-year-old Trisha were constantly switching between calling him Uncle Roy, and Grandpa, and most days he was floating somewhere between "a thirty-seven-year-old man should be no grandfather" and "everyone look at my grandbabies!"

Ed chattered happily, telling Roy some fantastical story that had to do with poor Thom somehow getting his entire head stuck in the banister at home. Ed gestured with huge hand movements, the muscles of his right arm working and moving as if they hadn't spent months recovering from atrophy. He moved emphatically, talking louder and louder because apparently this story was too good to be done otherwise.

There was a point where Roy had to reach up and rub his eye—one could hardly blame him, as the Elric kids had insisted on shacking up in his home last night so they could have a "slumber party with grandpa!", and he had been up for hours talking alchemy with Ed. The kids were running him ragged, he had hardly gotten any sleep last night, and he was tired.

He just, perhaps, moved a little bit too fast.

Ed, much to Roy's own horror, flinched at the movement of his hand. He flinched hard.

Ed didn't even seem to notice. He didn't notice Roy's hand moving up, he didn't notice Roy's abrupt freeze after Ed flinched, just kept talking talking talking about his amazing kids.

But Roy noticed. Oh, Roy had noticed.

And he knew, deep in his heart, that that one foolish action in an alleyway nearly ten years ago was going to come back to haunt him.

He wouldn't say that it had been an accident, way back then, because really it hadn't been. He'd been caught in a mix of swirling emotions, at the loss of his best friend, at the sharp and immediate desire for revenge, the sharp and hurting anger that Ed was going to walk into the scene and mess everything up…

But Ed had kept yelling. Things like "and why didnt you say anything?!". And he had gotten madder and madder and yes technically he had just killed someone but why, why did Ed have to be so fucking naïve, why couldn't he understand that Ross wasn't dead and that he needed to get back he was going to ruin everything.

It had happened before Roy had known it. One minute, Ed's hands were twisted in his collar, yanking their faces close so he could continue yelling, to try and understand.

The next minute, Roy's fist was swung to the far side, his knuckles were stinging, and Ed was thrown to the ground with a throbbing mark on his cheek going swiftly red.

He had punched him.

Across the face.

A fifteen-year-old boy. The same one who Roy now, and maybe even a little bit back then, thought of like a son.

You heartless bastard.

This wasn't the first thing he'd done wrong in his life, and it certainly wasn't the worst thing he'd ever done. But there was still such a strong bite of disgust, that he had caused Ed to hurt, that he had let his emotion get to him and had thrown him to the ground as if he were trash. He was horrified with himself, disgusted with himself.

He scared himself.

He was almost afraid of being alone around the Elric children. Afraid that one day, one of them would tick him off just enough, and he'd throw one of the little ones, these little ones he really absolutely adored, to the ground as if they were nothing, he'd hurt them, break them, kill them.

Hurt them, just like he had hurt their father no more than ten years ago.

But, Ed didn't even seem to notice. He didn't even seem to remember.

Honestly, Roy wouldn't have been surprised if Ed didn't remember. Roy knew that Ed suffered PTSD like no one's business, had known it since not long after Ed joined the military when he had a panic attack in the middle of the mess. He was constantly flinching at things, shying from hurt, skirting around topics that would make a grown man panic from the mere thought. Winry had once called, saying that Ed was suffering from them more and she didn't know what to do. As far as reactions go, this was extremely mild. It was almost a relief. And yet….

Yet, Roy was still in that category of "things that Edward Elric shied away from". Whether he was at the bottom of the list or the top didn't matter. That he was on the list at all was inexcusable.

Ed didn't notice Roy's hesitation. He had jumped headlong into another story about Thom attempting to teach Trisha how to talk ages ago, not noticing his ex-superior's shame and humiliation.

Again, just as he had before, Roy acted without realizing it. This time, it was with a far gentler hand, one that shook weakly with the desire to express apologies his mouth just couldn't say. He reached his nervous hand forward, nestling it softly on the top of Ed's head.

Ed finally stopped talking, surprise flickering in his golden gaze. He stopped and stared at Roy, only for a moment.

As Ed fell silent, Roy's hand dropped a little to cup the base of his braid. His thumb ran over soft golden strands, as if soothing a hurt that Ed no longer felt.

"...Colonel?"

I don't deserve you.

Roy didn't correct Ed for once, didn't speak even a word. He knew that, similarly as lieutenant was with Hawkeye, the rank of 'colonel' was practically synonymous with 'friend', or even better yet, Dad. He knew that if Ed ever called him General, then Ed was royally pissed off at something. He'd become so used to Roy's old rank that it had become synonymous with bastard which, in turn, was in a way synonymous with dad.

Roy tugged gently, and Ed hadn't been expecting it, so he stumbled and went along with it. He stared blankly at Roy's shirt when Ed found his forehead pressing against Roy's uniform.

I'm so sorry.

Even though Ed didn't hear him say anything, all he had to do was look up at him, see the ceaseless remorse in his eyes, and know, or at least have an idea, what Roy was trying to do.

"...It's okay," he mumbled under his breath, trying unsuccessfully to work his way out of the half-embrace. "I'm fine, and it's okay." And he meant it. It really was okay, and Roy knew it was okay. Roy knew that Ed didn't really care about one little punch in the middle of an emotional night. That didn't make what Roy had done right. Not at all. He was supposed to protect Edward, protect all the Elrics, but all he'd done was bring him pain.

What sort of person, what sort of almost-father, did that to his almost-son?

Rather than respond, Roy drew his other arm around Ed, embracing him fully as if that could express his sorrow even more.

Ed hitched a quiet breath as he was scootched closer, then sighed and planted his face in Roy's uniform coat. At least, he figured, it was warm here. He lifted his arms and put them around Roy, hugging back. Neither he nor Roy were much for hugging, and both were fully aware of that. But this time… this was different.

"It's okay now, colonel," Ed said softly. "I know you'd never hurt my kids or Winry, or me or Al unless we're sparring—" which didn't happen often, but Ed claimed that Roy "needed to stay in shape" and fighting a physical combatant with and without alchemy was the best way to do it. "I trust you with them. And if even I trust you with them—" knowing all my trust issues, knowing how hard it is for me to trust anyone but a few with my family, went without saying, but Roy heard it all the same— "then maybe you should lighten up on yourself. Seriously. It was ten years ago, and I'm pretty sure I deserved it. I normally did when you yelled at me."

Roy sighed pitifully and lifted his chin to plant it in Ed's hair. Not an easy feat, considering Ed had actually grown in so many years and was nearly taller (taller!) than Roy was.

"No," he said softly, gentle affection for the young man he loved like a son dancing about in his eyes. Really, trying to make Roy feel better when all Roy had done for him was bring him grief. Really. "You may have deserved to get yelled at, but you never deserved to get punched. Not… not then. I should have kept my head better, and you got hurt because of it, and i'm sorry."

Ed sighed and slumped forward, forehead planting to his shoulder. He had not been prepared for this type and this level of emotions today.

Trust Mustang to ruin the fun.

"Moron."

Dad.

"You might have been…. Might have been stupid about it, but you stayed. And that's more than a lot of people can say."

"Staying is hardly—"

"You stayed," Ed snapped over his interruption, just about lifting his forehead to smack it against Roy's shoulder in punishment. "And that's enough. So shut up, bastard. Apology accepted."

Also Ed's kids calling Roy and Riza their grandparents are the reason I breathe so...

Don't forget to review, please!

Bonus

"Mommy," Thom said, peeking into the doorway to the general's office. "What are Daddy and Grandpa doing?"

Sarah peeked around Thom into the office, eyebrows bunching up when she saw that her daddy was standing in her grandpa's arms.

Mommy glanced away from Grandma just in time to see that they were apparently about to interrupt a moment between Daddy and Grandpa. She grabbed Sarah's arm and hauled her back, then called Thom back to her side. Grandma hooked her heel around Sarah to pull her back a little further, holding baby Trisha to her side.

"It looks like Daddy and Grandpa are having a good talk, Thom," said Mommy softly, messing up his tawny hair. "Why don't we leave them alone for a little bit."

"I wanna talk with grandpa!" Sarah cheered. She wanted to talk especially if it meant getting big grandpa hugs like that.

"You can talk after Daddy is finished," said Mommy, steering them away. "For now, maybe we should go see if we can find Uncle Heymans, don't you think? I bet he has some fun new stories to tell."

Sarah looked up at Trisha and Grandma, smiling a big smile when Grandma extended her hand down to her. "Okay! Uncle Heymans has the best stories!" she reported cheerfully, taking Grandma's hand and happily letting her steer her away.

Thom skipped a step and seized Mommy's hand, forgetting about the scene behind them, even as Grandpa lifted his chin to nestle it on Daddy's head. "Yeah!"