Disclaimer: I'm not awesome enough to own fullmetal alchemist. Which is why I'm just another obsessed fangirl instead.
Hypocrite
Edward knows he is annoying, hot-headed, stupid, rash, sinful, guilty. He is all of these things and one more: a hypocrite. He doesn't want to be a hypocrite, but how can he help it when it's oh so hard to follow his own advice? 'Get up and move forward'. Shouldn't be that difficult. Just deprive yourself of the right to self pity, forget about it, move on with your life.
But how can he ever move on when his daily reminder comes in the form of a 6-foot tall suit of armour that's supposed to be his younger brother?
Overrated
Edward faces the fourteen year old in front of him with a blank expression and a hard gaze. They are the same age physically, but mentally they are worlds apart. This boy is a student – he spent his childhood playing games, studying, learning. Edward spent his overturning corrupted priests and catching criminals with his alchemy.
"I know you," says the boy, with admiration and awe in his eyes that makes Edward nauseous (If only he knew, Ed thinks to himself). "You're the Fullmetal alchemist, aren't you?"
He has no choice but to reply, and gives a curt nod. "Yeah. What of it?"
"Wow, that's so awesome! I've heard all about you, you're the youngest state alchemist ever."
"I already knew that," Edward deadpans, and turns to walk away, but the boy stops him.
"Wait! Can't you stay, teach me a few tricks? I'm studying alchemy too. It's my dream to one day join the military, just like you."
Edward's fist clenches in anger at the boy's naivety. "Why?" he asks calmly. "Why do you want to join the military?"
"Because," says the boy, still obliviously ecstatic. "People respect state alchemists, they admire them, they fear them. They're practically celebrities. I can't think of a better job than being a state alchemist, getting paid to travel and catch the bad guys – ,"
Edward has had enough. He's trying to decide between alchemically burying the boy's legs in the ground or gagging him. Maybe he should just transmute his mouth off – he would be doing the world a favour. But he's young, naïve, he wouldn't understand like Edward does. So instead he turns around and gives him his most impressive glare. "Say one more word and I will transmute your face into a kettle," he threatens. "You're young, and stupid, and way too idealistic. Tell me, have you ever killed anyone?"
The boy shakes his head, too terrified to speak.
"Didn't think so," Edward smirks. "And you should hope you never have to. Being in the military isn't about honour or freebies, it's a burden you have to carry. It's a responsibility which you have to sacrifice everything for, sometimes even your humanity. That sort of commitment isn't something to take lightly, you got that?"
Edward walks away before the poor boy has a chance to respond. As he does, he notices that his pocket watch feels heavier than before.
Pretence
Walk. Smile. Kick down colonel bastard's door. Edward knows too well how things are supposed to play out, and who is he to change the order of things when they work so well?
Who cares if his chest feels hollow, if he feels hollow, because the last mission he was on he couldn't protect the little girl who had clung to him for her life and begged him to save her and had looked oh so much like Nina –
Oh yeah. Act normal. He breathes in deeply as he walks into the room. There's Havoc, Breda, Fuery and Falman all working diligently while Hawkeye threatens them with her gun. How typical. How routine.
"Oh Edward," Hawkeye smiles at him and Al, causing the others to stop their work and look up.
"Chief, you're back!"
"Yo, Ed. Long time no see!"
"Good to see you again, it's been way too quiet without you."
"How was your mission?" Havoc asks casually, smiling. For a moment Ed's heart clenches, but he forces a smile back anyway.
"It was terrible," he whines. "The townspeople charged us double for a place to stay and we didn't even get room service!"
"Oh brother," Al sighs. "Just be happy we got a room at all. You know they weren't so keen on us…"
"Yeah, after you smuggled that cat in and it peed everywhere."
"Yeah, well you destroyed the statue of the founder of their village!"
"So I see you're up to your usual shenanigans," Breda laughs. "I'm sure the colonel will be delighted to hear about it."
Edward just huffs as he usually would, and puts in the extra effort this time when he kicks down the colonel's door and marches in. "I've got your stupid mission report," he snarls, throwing it down on Mustang's desk.
Said Flame alchemist gives it a dismissive glance, and then looks up at his subordinate. "I see your handwriting is still on par with a three year old, full metal."
"I see you're still as much of a bastard as you were when I left, colonel."
It's the classic routine. Ed knows it well. Get insulted, insult back. "And you still haven't grown an inch, fullmetal shrimp." Oh yes, and how could he forget? Get called short, throw a tantrum, storm out.
"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT HE COULD USE A MATCHSTICK AS A POGO STICK, YOU LAZY OLD COLONEL BASTARD?"
Cue dramatic exit.
Ah, finally. As Edward leaves the office, he lets the smile slip and the hollowness he feels surface in his eyes. If he hadn't become a state alchemist, he could have had a bright career as an actor he thinks to himself derisively.
Exposed
Blood. It is the only thing he can see, the crimson substance obscuring his vision and he wants to scream dammit but he can't because then the people outside would know he is there. He had hidden in the Colonel's office, gone there in the dead of night, because it was the only place he could escape Al for a while and stew in his own misery uninterrupted. At the time he hadn't thought about what would happen when morning came. Now Hawkeye and the rest of Mustang's crew are outside in the outer office and Mustang will be coming in any second now –
He wants to run away. Just run from everything and cry into someone's chest. He killed someone. His automail is stained with blood – literally and figuratively. He is a murderer, a monster, he doesn't deserve to live.
He tries to stop shaking, but they come relentless, attacking him and blurring the graphic images of death and gore that cloud his vision. State alchemists aren't supposed to have mental breakdowns, especially not in their superior's office, but every time he tries to breathe in the sobs just worsen.
He's concentrating so hard on trying to breathe properly that he doesn't notice someone slip into the room. Only when he hears that cool voice behind him does he realise that he's been found out.
"Fullmetal?"
'Go away Mustang, I can't let you see me like this' he wants to shout. But his vocal chords won't obey and instead all he can croak out is "S-sorry," like some stupid, pathetic child.
"What happened?"
Edward shakes his head and backs away further, but Mustang continus to advance. Suddenly the man kneels down in front of him. "It's okay, Edward," he says cautiously. "Whatever happened, you're back in central now. You're safe. Just calm down, breathe."
Edward doesn't have the strength anymore to resist. He slumps down, clinging to his superior's jacket, and cries into the soft material. Maybe later he will be embarrassed, but right now dignity means very little compared to the comfort that Mustang is offering.
He feels hands running down his back and it calms him slightly, then a rough voice in his ear. "It's okay. Whatever happened doesn't matter now." But it does matter, why doesn't Mustang understand that?
Edward pulls back for a moment, and looks into those deep, charcoal eyes. There is sympathy there, but not confusion. There is mutual understanding. And despite the weight still residing in his chest, which he knows will be there for the rest of his life, Edward is relieved.
"I can never fool you, can I, colonel?"
Mustang smiles sadly. "We know each other too well, fullmetal."
TA DA! And fin. This is the first FMA fanfic I'm actually happy with God, I know I'm sadistic, but I have such a fetish for Ed-angst fics. Particularly when they involve Roy. Mmm, they'd both make such good pets.
Oh, and just in case anyone didn't get it, the first letter of each section title ( Hypocrite, overrated, pretence, exposed) spells out Hope. I know it's sappy, but I have a weakness for that kind of thing.
Anyway. You know the drill. Review, and I will give you an all you can eat cyber cookie buffet. Seriously, I will appreciate so much if it's even a one line comment Thank you!