MELKER
By Lapiz Sagana
CHAPTER ONE
Alphonse listened to Winry narrate in detail over the phone how Mei Chang had helped Granny Pinako recover from the flu. She made exaggerated comments about alkahestry and the wisdom of the Xingese, all of which, he knew, would later boil down to her pressuring him into marry Mei Chang before their geographical distance could strain their relationship.
As Winry's story was coming to a close, Al formulated in his mind how he could best explain to her that Mei Chang and him were doing fine just as they were. He pondered if it could ever be possible to tell her without it causing offense that just because her romance with Edward didn't go well did not mean his would fade out for the same reasons.
Al scratched his right eyebrow as he laughed when he should and made remarks as she expected him to. The window beside the table where the telephone sat gave him a calming view of the city, and he was grateful for the distraction.
It was too bright a day for a scolding.
"She set out to Central to fetch something for Ling and then she'll return to Xing," Winry said. The clangor of metal on the other end of the line told him that she was multi-tasking. "She's carrying a gift from me to Lan Fan and some fruits she likes. I hope she can visit you in East City. It's only a half-day away from Central. I even suggested she stay there for a month if she's not busy. Kinda like before when she was helping us nurse you back to health."
Al couldn't help but smile at the memory. Not long after the defeat of Father, Colonel Mustang - now Brigadier-General - and his unit assisted him and Ed with the technicalities of their new lives. Ed was still the Fullmetal Alchemist and had to continue his service to the military for the duration of his contract, and because he was busy making ends meet for them as they were forced to finally settle into an apartment in the city, General Mustang and his unit took it upon themselves to look out for him.
The months had spilled one into another then, with different faces entering Al's field of vision from one morning to the next depending on who was available. Winry lived with Ed and him for several months, but her growing popularity in the field of automail necessitated her presence in other cities often.
Lt. Hawkeye took charge on her days off, and put the now retired Lt. Havoc on a strict schedule to help Al recover from his physical atrophy through therapy. General Mustang made surprise visits, too, much to Edward's annoyance, which was mostly out of a difficulty to admit that the older man had been like a father to them in his discreet ways. What the general could not contribute in cooking, cleaning, or nursing, he made up by making sure Ed was not away on assignments for more than a week at times. He was also responsible for influencing the landlord to allow them to rent their two-bedroom apartment with a living room and a kitchen at a fair price.
Edward being preoccupied with his workload as state alchemist, Lt. Hawkeye automatically deducted their rent, water, and electricity from his salary and made the payments for them during the first year. It was only nine months ago, when Ed and Al sorted their obligations and made the calculations that they figured hardly anything had been taken from his salaries at all.
Ed had glowered at the statement of accounts scattered across the table then, upset to be at the receiving end of other people's charity without him asking for it, and Al attempted to comfort him by pointing out that he was at the forefront of saving the entirety of Amestris.
"Perhaps this is their way of showing their gratitude, brother," Al told him.
Alphonse's recovery made a startling leap at the arrival of Mei Chang. She had been fourteen years old but growing fast. Ling had granted her leave at the Xing court to look after him, sending her as an official emissary of the Emperor as a means of thanking the brothers for helping them build a bond with Amestris.
Beneath the formality to validate the princess' absence, they all knew Ling allowed her to go because she wanted to. It was on her fifteenth birthday - when Alphonse could stand at long intervals and require little assistance from anyone even during trips outside the apartment - that he finally had the courage to lay down his intention to court her.
Mei Chang had stood stock still for a moment after hearing those words out of his mouth, and had only reacted when he reached out to touch her cheek. Her shoulders rose and her eyes welled up. She said she went to East City only with the sincerest of intentions to see him back in good health and now she was receiving more than an assurance that he was well. She vowed she was the luckiest Xingese princess in existence.
It was that kindness, that honesty, which made Al embrace her and promise to take care of her for as long as he lived. She had grown out of her fantasies and acted on the goodness of her heart, and she did not know it but he was the one who was lucky.
"I know she's just turning sixteen soon, but you can propose now and get married after she's a bit older," Winry said. Her tone was almost pleading, as though begging him to save their relationship from the train wreck hers had been with Ed.
Alicia stood beside him to catch his attention. He glimpsed her from the corner of his eye and mouthed an apology. "Winry, you'll be the first to know once I've bought the ring. I promise. Send my regards to Granny Pinako and tell her to get as much rest as she needs, okay?"
"I'm holding you to that promise, Alphonse," she said. "And please tell Ed to oil his leg regularly. I told him to call me once he's home from his assignment, but it's been two weeks and he hasn't rang yet. Is he alright? Anyway, I'll schedule a visit soon."
"Brother's fine. He's just busy with night classes."
"Alright, Al. I trust your word."
"I'm glad you two are still good friends."
There was a silence on her end. "We always will be. Now go. I've held you up long enough. Bye, Al." He lowered the receiver and turned to Alicia with an apologetic smile. "Sorry for taking so long. Winry would tell brother if I missed her call on a Sunday, so I thought it better to call first. They both know I'm usually at the apartment at this time."
Alicia slipped on her coat and gloves. "You know I don't mind if you make yourself at home, Al. I'm just itching to run to the university because the professor needs something done by tomorrow morning."
He pulled on his long-sleeves and buttoned it up. "Will you be fine going there on your own?"
Alicia made a face as she walked past him and into her bedroom. She handed him his gloves as though they were a prize. "It's broad daylight. I'll be fine on my own. Besides, we've been seen walking around together too often. James and Lucy asked me the other day if we're a couple. I don't like people getting suspicious."
Alphonse straightened his coat and put on his gloves as he followed her to the door. "Those two know I have a girlfriend."
Alicia opened the door for him and stepped aside with a bow. "That's why it's best if the future prince of Xing exits the building in a hurry so I can follow in a bit and avoid being late to the university."
Monday. Again.
Ed glowered at the calendar at the back of their front door. Upon reaching the last five months of his contract with the military, Al had pinned the bank's free calendar there so he could mark the days before Ed would be free from his assignments and the danger that came with them.
Today, they were down to exactly a week before he was due to surrender his silver watch.
The box encircled with a red marker seemed to have eyes that searched him, the same searching eyes as those of that bastard brigadier general who kept on asking him what plans he had for the future. For the past months, he'd had to endure Mustang's endless musing as to how scary the world outside the military was, especially for state alchemists who had trouble finding their place in a world scared of alchemy.
Of course, Ed understood the old man was just taunting him because he'd soon have no reason to be ordering him around, but that did not stop him from biting back and snatching the dossier of his next assignment off his desk so he could escape.
In spite of this, Ed had to admit, he was beginning to have moments wherein he'd just look around the office or the corridors and be flooded with nostalgia. The military compound had been home to him regardless of what dire memories he'd had there and, truth be told, he never imagined what life would be like outside this norm of uncertainties and danger he'd grown up in.
He twisted the knob of the front door, remembered his research paper, and fished it from his bag. He left the bundle of papers on top of their dining table with a note to Al to pass it on to his airhead of a professor. He could've woken up Al because it was half-past six, but he was snoring loudly from their bedroom and had ink marks on his cheek where he'd fallen asleep on his notes.
Lately, his younger brother's been out 'til late supposedly 'studying' and was unusually tired from it. Ed probed the matter in honest concern for Al's health, but when he was waved off with a couple of lame excuses, he realized he was beginning to keep secrets of his own. Not that Ed should mind. Al was nineteen and getting his life together. He just hoped he wasn't up to anything stupid.
Working neighbors greeted Ed as they rushed out of their apartments with some still buttoning up their blazers, brushing their hair, or tearing apart a burnt toast pinned between their front teeth.
Ed's stomach churned at the sight of food. This was what he hated about Al waking up late. They decided to save money by eating out only when they had no choice, and Ed considering this as part of having no choice since he couldn't call his cooking a proper meal when all he made only looked good but tasted bad.
He rounded the corner of their block, pushing aside thoughts of walking the same road but without the military's leash, and got his fix of coffee and croissant at Minnie's Cafe. The owner, a twenty-five year old entrepreneur, saw him as he entered. She yelled for a waitress to pack 'the short but cute one's usual'. If not for the latter adjective, even Al wouldn't have been able to stop him from making a wreck of this place the first time they went here two years ago. But Minnie, who had dwarfism, meant well and teased him as a means of making light of their frustration with their height. He admitted to himself, cruel as it may be, that he felt he had no right to complain about being only as tall as Al's ears if Minnie could run a successful establishment amidst the jokes and criticism people threw at her.
He handed his payment on the counter but Minnie shooed him. "Working students need healthy meals to succeed in life," she said. "I'm not about to make you pay for that healthy meal."
Ed munched on the croissant. "Better not let the university hear that or else students might start protesting."
She raised her middle finger before scurrying to the other end of the counter where a customer was asking for the price of freshly baked bread.
Eastern Command was a good six blocks from the cafe, giving him enough time to finish his breakfast and get a clear mind before prepping himself for the day's work. He gulped down half his coffee, brushed off the crumbs that clung to his long-sleeves and vest, and entered the office with a grumble instead of a greeting.
Lt. Marie Gordon swatted Havoc's hand from her cup of coffee, put down the receiver and commented on his promptness. She followed his line of sight to the desk at the corner of the outside office. "The general won't trust anyone else with enquiries relating to alchemy. He told me to tell you to please finish that by tomorrow afternoon, as well as the report on your other assignments."
"The bastard's enjoying the final days of my servitude."
Havoc winked at him. "He won't admit it, but he's getting separation anxiety from his favorite state alchemist."
It was a sight Ed might never get used to - Havoc out of uniform. He retired over a year ago but still frequented the office as per Mustang's requests, and although they wouldn't divulge anybody with the details of their discussions, he had no doubt it had something to do with Mustang's promise to Dr. Marcoh to help rebuild Ishval. Havoc's body language and attempts to be discreet gave Ed all the confirmation he needed on this regard.
"Favorite my ass."
"It's true, boss." Havoc followed Ed to his desk - the mere existence of which was a constant reminder of his nearing departure - and sat on the edge of it. Ed watched it exhale at Havoc's weight.
They'd provided him with this old thing two weeks ago, when military law prohibited Mustang from sending him on assignments outside the city. Ed had to dig his head in some dusty files instead and make summarized reports on all assignments accomplished for the military for the duration of his service. When Hawkeye told him about that stupid law at the advent of this desk, he'd considered renewing his contract if only to avoid paperwork.
Breda took the entire pot of freshly brewed coffee to his desk. "We'll all miss you, chief, but the general does have strange ways of showing his affections. Did I tell you about the time he told children to knock on my door and sing a birthday song to me so I'd give them money?"
Fuery looked up from the radio he was tweaking, an oil grease lingering above his brow. "He did that to you, too?"
Ed sat on the swivel chair and turned once. "Say, is this paperwork really necessary or is he just torturing me?"
Gordon pinned a note on the bulletin board. "Paperwork's necessary, Major Elric. If you want, though, you can pass on the less complicated assignments to me and I'll be the one to put them in standard format for you. Working under Lt. Colonel – I mean, Colonel Hughes gave me enough exposure to alchemy to recognize which ones are far beyond my intellectual capacity."
"Really? Wow, lieutenant. I couldn't be more grateful you got transferred to this team." Ed cut the stack in half and pushed it towards the edge of his desk. "Is this too much?"
Havoc waved his hand between the two of them. "Hey, hey, now wait a minute. You never offered to do any such favors for me back in military school, Marie. Why so different with the boss, huh?"
"Major Elric is just starting to live his life and he needs all the support he can get."
Havoc squinted at her and took a cigarette from his front pocket. "My life nearly ended due to paralysis and I'm just starting to get back on my feet here and you don't think I need the support?"
Gordon returned to her seat. "You want me to support your romantic fantasies. That's completely immature. The major never made such advances towards me in the entire year we've worked together."
Havoc gripped Ed's shoulder. "You're not using your childish charm and alchemical genius to steal my girl, are you?"
Ed slapped his hand away. "If I have to sit through another one of your love quarrels, I'll gladly work in the library instead."
Breda passed on some documents to Gordon with a short remark on Central's uptight but useless rules. "I bet you'll find yourself a girl once you've got some free time in your hands, chief. Make sure to invite us to the wedding."
"I've got too many problems sustaining the rent and keeping up with my stupid professors to spare a dime on dinner with some girl who thinks alchemy is magic," he said.
Gordon leaned back on her chair with a strained smile towards Ed. "Don't worry, Major Elric, there are plenty of girls who do pay high respect to alchemy as a powerful resource for the advancement of peace in Amestris."
Havoc pointed at her. "You better not be referring to yourself, Gordon, or I swear I'll not marry you when you ask."
Gordon cut herself short of what she was saying and stood in attention. "General's here."
"How do you always know?" Feury and Havoc asked in unison.
The door opened that moment, and the rest of the unit saluted Mustang as he marched across the room to get to the inner office. Hawkeye motioned for them to be at ease. Havoc raised his hand as greeting and said, "Morning sickness, sir?"
Mustang glimpsed him from the corner of his eye but didn't stop in his strides. "In my office, Havoc. And you, Elric, that's long overdue."
"Fuck you, Mustang. This was dropped on my desk yesterday."
Mustang slammed the door shut behind him, nearly catching Havoc's nose. They all turned to Hawkeye for an explanation, but instead of her usual facade that dismissed Mustang's tantrums, she scowled at the direction of the inner office. Noticing the stares, she motioned for Havoc to follow Mustang and said, "There was an attempt at Dr. Marcoh's life. We found out from Colonel Hughes on the way here. The suspect attacked at night and couldn't be identified. If Scar hadn't been there, the suspect may have succeeded. Fuery, make sure we're updated as to the status of the soldiers in Ishval and who among General Wicker's men are being assigned as bodyguard to the doctor."
"Those soldiers shouldn't be in uniform if you ask me," Ed said as he propped his feet up on the desk and intertwined his fingers behind his head.
Hawkeye went over to Gordon to check on today's schedule. "They're in uniform so whoever in Ishval wants to start a fight will know there will be consequences if they harm a citizen of Amestris."
"Sounds like a formula for another war."
Breda prepared to brew another round of coffee. And it was barely half-past nine. "The collaboration in rebuilding the infrastructures won't be possible if Fuhrer Grumman didn't release the command. We're hardly getting any civilian volunteers since majority still has the wrong impression on Ishvalans. Besides, the local volunteers are also in uniform for the same reason."
"Didn't stop someone from attempting to take out the doctor," Ed said.
Gordon moved to Fuery's desk to grab the sheet of paper he just finished writing on. "Do we have any idea who would want the doctor dead?"
"Both camps will have multitude of reasons to want Dr. Marcoh out of the picture," Breda said. "Corrupt officials and the businessmen they partner with are at the top of the list, seeing as they're the ones most affected by the military putting an end to Ishvalan trafficking. Labor costs are double what they pay Amestrian workers. If they can get Ishval in a state of disarray, it will be too easy to resume the trafficking."
Gordon paused from her work, frowning at a thought she had. "Trafficking doesn't compensate the ring leaders enough for the corresponding death penalty they'll face if caught. Ninety-percent of Ishvalans are already capable of maintaining a three-meal a day lifestyle. What other merit would an Ishvalan gain by eliminating Dr. Marcoh?"
"It gets the military out of Ishval." Ed could imagine the daily tension between the two races. "No matter the fuhrer's good intentions of supplying them with the manpower and the materials they need to rebuild their cities - we all know they're short on both - most Ishvalans are too traumatized by war to be so welcoming of any help from the military."
"The attempt can't just be a personal vendetta - not if the suspect managed to escape from Scar and remain unidentified," Hawkeye said.
"That's a good point." Ed picked up his pen and started the first of many reports he had to rewrite. He wouldn't have minded doing Mustang's bidding by going there on an assignment as Dr. Marcoh's bodyguard if only his contract permitted it. He belatedly realized the bastard must be feeling short of capable men at a time like this, hence his frustration. "Must be why Mustang's on edge."
Hawkeye collapsed on her seat. The sound of her weight dropping on the chair made Ed look at her for several moments. It was unlike the lieutenant to be so graceless. They all had bad days, but something about her own temperament today seemed...off.
In spite of the rough start, the day droned on as usual. Ed kept a book on supersymmetry and invariants open on his lap so he could read while moving his pen just enough to give the impression of working. At lunch time, he joined Breda and Gordon in the mess hall where he could openly read and annotate while shoving food into his mouth.
The pressure to study came not as much from the difficulty of the classes he took than the need to make the most out of the money he was spending on a university degree. Al had managed to snag a scholarship without difficulty, but even the military couldn't get him one since he had time only for night classes. Hughes persuaded Mustang to arrange for the university to cut him some slack when it came to deadlines, and the asshole had been quick to gloat at his successful negotiation with the dean.
The coffee on his desk came and went as per Gordon's mindfulness of him. He reached for the cup and emptied it without taking notice, and would later find it filled to the brim again with a fresh brew. By the time his eyes were dry and hurting from the reading, he had managed to finish half of the book and only a quarter of his real work.
He rubbed his nape and looked around, not realizing when Breda and Gordon left the office. Fuery had headphones blocking the world around him, still deep into whatever he was listening to.
Ed checked the clock. It was eight in the evening.
Hawkeye stepped out of the inner office. She held the door open for Ed. "The general wants a word with you, Edward."
"If he's only going to vent his stress at me, I won't hold myself responsible for any injury he might incur, okay?"
Hawkeye suppressed a smile as she let him pass and closed the door for him. Mustang transferred from his desk to the couch facing the fireplace, a neat pile of documents waiting for him on the coffee table. He glanced over his shoulder and said, "Sit down, Fullmetal."
"No, thanks. Office work's got me feeling older than I really am."
Mustang snickered. "Unless you can find a job that requires you hunting in a field, you have to get used to sitting behind a desk. Speaking of which, you still haven't told me your plans once you hand in your watch."
Ed moved towards the fireplace for warmth. He and Mustang may have been at odds for most of the time they knew each other, but for the two and a half years following the Promised Day and perhaps as a result of them both growing older, he had learned to accept whatever responsibility Mustang felt for dragging him and Alphonse into the military. Mustang, too, must've learned by now that Ed's indifference did not hold as much bearing as it did when he was younger, their bickering now done more out of norm than anything else.
Ed sat on the floor in front of the fire, briefly noting before he focused on the flames that there were two glasses on the table already filled with ice cubes. "Al's got an offer to transfer to a university in Central. They have better facilities and resources there."
"That's interesting progress on Alphonse's part, but I asked about you, Ed," he said. "Every time any of us inquires about your plans, you always bring up Al first."
He screwed up his brows at the realization. "Can't help it. I lived most of my life worrying about him."
"It's safe to say you haven't considered your options yet beyond finishing university, yes?"
"...You make it sound like I've got plenty of options in the first place."
"With a mind like yours, of course you do." Mustang signed a document, set it aside, and poured Scotch. The ice cubes made an inviting noise. "But I'd like to think my offer could outweigh them all."
Ed turned on the floor. The scent of whisky was difficult to ignore, but so was the memory of Mustang trying to get him drunk for blackmail purposes. "If you're thinking I'll renew my contract, then you've lost your mind."
Mustang waved the glass in the air. "I'm only going to say this once - you are indeed a loss to my team especially that you're leaving at a critical time for the military. Now that I've given you praise that would suffice to bloat your ego for ten lifetimes - "
Ed reached for the bottle of Scotch and weighed it in his hand. Half-empty. "Are you drunk, Mustang? Should the lieutenant be warned that you're turning into a drunkard?"
"Lt. Hawkeye is stepping down from her position as my adjutant and bodyguard."
Ed felt his jaw slacken as he watched Mustang sort out the papers as though he had not just declared a major shift in his unit. The loss of Lt. Hawkeye by his side was unfathomable - those two had always been a pair since Ed entered the military. He put down the bottle. "Okay, Mustang, what did you do to her?"
The older man's calm visage broke at that. He glowered at Ed. "It's quite offensive that you would jump to the conclusion that I'm at fault with regards to this turn in - "
"Logically, it can't be the lieutenant's fault."
"Fine, fine." Mustang piled up the papers and set them aside, topping them with his capped sign pen. "The military is struggling with the changes in our relationship with Ishval, and I couldn't trust anybody else with heading a program that could either be a positive contributor to the peace we're aiming at or a target for its downfall - but this is one move we can't dodge. Have you ever heard of the Orphans of War?"
"If I had, I might've forgotten already. Sounds too flashy if it's coming from the military."
"It was a program run during the Ishval war, wherein doctors took in orphans both Amestrian and Ishvalan to be cared for under the roof of the same orphanage. They were secretly being supported by the government, with little question raised at first because the doctors and teachers there came from both races. It was going well until one night, all orphans and personnel in the orphanage died," he said. "The reports said the Ishvalan orphans from the slums carried a contagious disease with them and, the doctors afraid of spreading it, had quarantined everybody including themselves in an attempt to contain it while they searched for a cure. By then, however, it was too late and they were discovered around four days after their deaths. The orphanage has been sealed off and guarded as a protest rose from Amestrians against mixing them with Ishvalans. Any attempt at philanthropy afterwards had been disregarded in fear of worsening the war."
Ed took his glass of Scotch and drank. "According to the reports, right? We both know the fuhrer was capable of inhumanities to that degree if it would strengthen his cause for destroying Ishval."
"The confidentiality of the incident is preventing me from digging deeper into the matter as quickly as I would like, but I've made myself aware enough to know I'll be needing your expertise to determine exactly what happened so the new program under Lt. Hawkeye can proceed smoothly," he said.
Ed paused from downing the remainder of his Scotch, realizing then why he was hearing this. "You think it wasn't a deadly disease?"
"For all of them to die like that in one night is unheard of," Roy said. "Havoc's made enquiries for me on the blocked out portion of the confidential reports regarding the orphanage. Witnesses who claimed to have seen a flash of light and heard something like inhumane screaming had died of accidents within the five months succeeding the event."
"Alchemy." The word left Ed's mouth like a reflex. "You think it was human transmutation?"
"We don't have enough evidence or any witnesses to support that theory, but it's not unlikely," he said. "Listen, Fullmetal, this is not a decision I just came up with overnight. If I had a choice in it, I wouldn't drag you back to it, but I thought I may as well ask given the circumstances. Lt. Hawkeye will need as much help as she can in this arena, and no one quite qualifies like you do. The military will be involved in funding it, but Hughes and I are making sure they have no legal hold over the program once the funds have been released. This means neither of you will be part of the military, but you will receive regular monthly income for the duration of the program and you'll be responsible for your schedule. Apart from it being strategically ideal, the children who will be benefitting from this program often struggle with connecting with even doctors and teachers - most of whom have not seen war or experienced the loss these children have. A presence like yours might make a difference if you just take a chance."
Ed took the poker and stoked the fire. "So you want me to move from state alchemist to babysitter, huh?"
"Did you even listen to what I said?"
"You're not telling me something, Mustang." Ed pointed the poker at him. "You wouldn't let go of Lt. Hawkeye if it weren't advantageous for you, and so far no other role for her has rivaled being adjutant to you as you ascend to power. It's either she's finally had it with you or this job is more dangerous than any assignment - "
"Riza is pregnant."
Ed dropped the poker, barely keeping the glass from slipping from his other hand. Mustang clinked glasses with Ed and grinned, a faint blush spreading across his face. "I proposed to her a month ago. She's already two months in. You're right - no role has proved more advantageous to both her and me until now."
The entire conversation repeated itself in Ed's mind with this fact in play. The laughter bubbled in his throat until he couldn't help but let it out. "I have to give it to you, Mustang. You're one good manipulator of military law and politics. That was one long, valid speech you gave and you even dragged me into it instead of just admitting that you did do something to her!"
Mustang sighed. "You never fail to make me regret being honest with you, Edward."
Ed wiped his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt and poured Mustang more Scotch. "But kidding aside, congratulations, Mustang. Do your best to not suck at being a father."
He reclined on the couch, and now that his face was clearly visible, Ed could see hints of amusement in his eyes. "So, do you accept?"
Ed stared into his glass. Working again on a case that could be related to human transmutation was something he would rather avoid, but the man did make a good point. All his years of bad experiences could amount to some good, if not for him ultimately, then to the children who suffered from the mistakes of the adults around them. It had all the comfort and mental stimulation he could ever ask for in a life outside the military - salary, field work, and direction - all of which had been a blur to him until Mustang made the offer.
Ultimately, it was the notion of Riza becoming a mother that made it impossible to refuse. The underlying danger of this program put Riza and her baby at risk, and his conscience could not take it if anything happened to them when he had the choice to ensure nothing ever would. The bastard father-to-be knew just how to push his buttons to get the response he wanted, and Ed knew he would give it. "On one condition," he said.
Mustang leaned forward, his elbows on his knees and his fingers intertwined before him as though he was closing a military negotiation. "Let's hear it."
"If the baby's a boy, name him after me."
The door burst open at that moment. Red balloons came flying in. Hughes waltzed to the office wearing a party hat and carrying boxes of pizza, with Breda and Havoc trailing behind with cases of beer. Sciezka and Gordon rolled in a tray of delicacies. Falman, still in his winter coat, lugged in a box in gift wrap, with Feury holding on to the other end. Hakweye was the last to step in, cradling in her arms Black Hayate in a blond wig that resembled Ed's hairstyle and the red coat he'd worn as a teenager.
"Edward, my boy!" Hughes dropped the boxes of pizzas on the table. He put a party hat on top of Ed's head, which he managed to straighten in spite of his attempts at jerking his hands away. "Did Roy do a good job at keeping you too preoccupied to notice us outside the office?"
The rest of Mustang's unit proceeded to position around the fire what they were carrying. Hawkeye lowered Black Hayate to the floor. Ed noted the slight bump in her abdomen, but if not for Mustang admitting she was pregnant, anybody would've thought she had just eaten one cake too many.
The dog ran up to him and licked his face. "W-what...what is this all for?" Ed asked.
Havoc plopped on the couch next to Mustang. "Did you really think we were letting you go without a proper farewell party?"
Breda shoved a beer in Ed's hand, remarking on the empty glass of scotch and praising Mustang for getting him warmed up on the drinks. How they managed to haul in that many bottles of beer without getting caught was beyond him, but it was not impossible given the feats they'd achieved before. Breaking rules in Eastern Command wouldn't have made them blink.
Falman sat next to Ed on the floor to warm himself and announced that he was returning to East City under the brigadier's command for good. The big box was a collection of presents from those in Briggs who heard of Ed's retirement and wanted to wish him good luck.
The aroma of food, the orange glow about the room, and the cheerful chatter about the great things Ed would do along with some mishaps they expected from him especially when it came to girls, overwhelmed him. When he was twelve, sitting on a wheelchair without his arm and leg, staring out the window for days, this was not a sight he could've ever conjured for himself. He was starting to think that in spite of his mistakes, perhaps he did deserve to be happy.
"Where's Alphonse?" Hawkeye turned to Hughes and Havoc for an explanation. The latter said he rang the apartment thrice and even went to the university to check if he had been outdoing himself again in the library, but one of the students he spoke to said Al had walked out of the university with a girl named Alicia at around four in the afternoon. "He might be preoccupied with research stuff as usual, but it's unlike him to miss anything involving Ed."
The name Alicia sounded familiar to him. He remembered eating dinner with Al some nights and hearing that name from his mouth, although he couldn't quite remember at which topics she was brought up.
An awkward silence began to settle in the group. Ed opened the first box of pizza to distract everybody. It was one thing for him as Al's older brother to suspect him of cheating on Mei Chang, but for the entire team to consider that notion was something he couldn't allow. "Let him be!" Ed said. "I'd be more concerned if he was sticking to my side instead of living his life like he's supposed to."
A knock on the door made them all turn. Sciezka put down her beer bottle with a quick 'that must be him' and hurried to the outer office. As Fuery was passing around paper plates and plastic spoons and forks, Al stumbled inside behind Sciezka and scanned the room for Ed. His face lit up when he saw him. "Brother!"
He rubbed the back of his head as he approached. "Sorry I'm late. They weren't finished with the engraving when I arrived at the shop." He sat on the armrest where Hughes was positioned and handed Ed the suitcase. "It's for you, brother. I figured you could do with a new one."
Edward took in his disarray of hair and the creases on his clothes, how it was unlike him to be so unkempt regardless if he was in a rush or not. He accepted the gift with a 'thanks, Al', barely keeping himself from asking what was really running through his mind.
What's happening to you, little brother?