Thank you all so much for reviewing! Well, apparently there's some sort of problem with the email alert system; the site has been on the fritz for months now so who even knows. Just saying, don't count on getting an email when it's updated. Should have new chapters up every Wednesday and Saturday now; if one isn't posted, check my profile to see why. Anyway... enjoy :)
When the train finally rolled in to their first stop, Ed was so eager to get off he nearly sprinted back into the station, stretching his legs and breathing in fresh air at last. "Fantastic!" he declared, hefting his small suitcase up as he stretched again, unable to help himself. "The first day in a new city's always the best. I can't wait."
Al laughed at him, clambering out of the train next. "You say that like we're going to do anything but check out their library, Brother."
"...Well!" He shrugged defensively, unable to help a small flush. "You never know what gems you might find. Central's library doesn't have everything, after all."
"That's the spirit, Ed."
Blinking, Ed turned back around with Al to watch as Hughes ducked out of the train last, shielding his eyes in the bright sunlight as he looked down at them both. Hughes was still out of uniform for the sake of the mission, still wearing all black- he theorized Mustang had been the one to pick the outfit. However, like Al, he curiously had no luggage at all, only carrying the clothes on his back, the knives in his sheath, and the gun on his belt.
The investigator stepped off the platform, smiling at the both of them in greeting as he flexed his hands, as if in for a long day. "Well," he announced boldly, flexing his hands again, "as I said: time for you two to head off to the library. I've got some work to do."
Al hesitated, looking after him as he made to head off. "Wait, aren't we supposed to protect you?"
Hughes actually snorted, face twisting into an overconfident sort of sneer that looked very out of place on his usually smiling features. "I'm not helpless, boys. Remember, you're here on paper as bodyguards- but the only reason Mustang sent you was to get you out of Central. I don't actually need protection." He grinned at them again, patting them both- then drew back with a wave. "I'll see you two at the hotel tonight!"
Then, without another word he turned away. While Ed and Al watched, he headed off down the street, stretching his arms skyward luxuriously- then, beelined right for the nearest woman in the shortest skirt. He was too far away for them to hear what was said, but they both saw him loop an arm around her shoulders and lean in close- so close it looked remarkably like husband and wife.
But, of course, this was Hughes. Ed was pretty sure Hughes was physically incapable of even looking at a woman not named Gracia, so he glanced at Al with a shrug. "Probably some informant of his," he supplied, already uninterested, and his brother nodded in tacit agreement. "More importantly: where's the library?"
The small town's library was swiftly found, and then, just as swiftly found to be a waste of time. Ed and Al had already read all but two of the books in its small alchemy collection- and those remaining two hid no secrets on the Philosopher's Stone. One was an only mildly interesting text on manipulating ice into snow, the other, a wildly outdated and mostly incorrect work on convection patterns. Both, extremely unhelpful.
The lack of information was disappointing, but not particularly surprising. Ed was used to such unhelpful libraries whenever they visited small towns, so neither one of them had really gotten their hopes at all. He was just a little down as he headed out into the unfamiliar streets, not totally surprised to see that it had gone dark in the hours he'd spent inside.
"Well," he said, checking his pocket watch, "it's not that late. Hughes is probably still working. We could hunt him down, if you want?"
If anyone could give him a chastising, stern glare of reproach with a metal, expressionless face, it was Al. "You're eating dinner before you do anything else. You haven't had anything since breakfast! Again!"
"Damn it, Al, come on..." His voice edged on a petulant whine but Ed just rolled his eyes tolerantly as Al started tugging him down the street, it not him to resist. It wasn't as if Hughes really needed their help, after all- and he was pretty hungry, now that he thought about it. "It's not like I do it on purpose," he muttered defensively. "I just start reading... suddenly it's past lunch. You do the same thing!"
"I know," Al laughed, still pulling him down the street. "That's why I'm not lecturing you. But you're still eating."
With a fond eye roll, Ed jogged so he was walking alongside Al rather than being dragged behind him and started glancing around the brightly lit street, searching for anything to eat that caught his eye. Unfortunately, they still seemed a little while away from the market; everywhere he looked there were bars, and he groaned in distaste. All filled with loud grown men with nothing better to do than drink themselves stupid... say what you will about bastard Hohenheim, but at least he wasn't a drunk...
Suddenly, a flash of black in one of the bars caught his eye and he slowed down, trying to peer in through the window. He narrowed his eyes, frowning through the dirty glass. "Hey, Al," he called distractedly, stretching to peer over the many patrons. "Isn't that..."
Ed chose to ignore the fact that Al, many heads taller than he would probably ever be, had no problem looking into the bar and zeroing in and what had caught his attention. "Hey," he started, sounding surprised. "It's Lieutenant Colonel Hughes."
Cursing, Ed strained again, jumping to try and find a good line of sight until at last the crowd parted a bit, letting him see. Sighing in relief, he wormed his way over and stared through to the counter.
There, definitely, was Hughes. Sitting straight up by the bar, and by the large group of women- and some men, he realized with a gasp of shock- around him, he had been there for quite a while. He also, most certainly, was not working.
Not unless the woman he was currently up against was one of the rogue Ishvallans, and groping her ass was the newest away for an officer to control an unruly suspect.
"U-uh..."
Ed stood there, frozen, and Al frozen next to him, both staring in utter disbelief at the spectacle. The adolescent in him was instantly disgusted and begging him to turn away, because Hughes' hand was doing things in plain view that just the thought of made him blush, and the fact that it was Hughes' hand made him want to vomit- but the rest of him was frozen in shock. Hughes. Hughes! Lunatic Hughes- was- oh hell-
Al's powerful hand grabbed him by the collar and pulled him away just as Hughes' hand started to explore to even more intimate places, and Ed had never been so thankful for how forceful his brother could be when he was spared the sight of that. Unfrozen at last, they both took off down the street, caught in the unspoken agreement to just get as far away from the illogical nauseating insanity as they could and as fast as possible.
Ed sprinted off, praying he'd trip over in a lake of mind bleach on his way to The Hell Away From Here. "Gah!" he spat out, weaving through the thin crowds until they were at least a block away, and only then did he let himself keel over, leaning on his knees and gasping, horrified. "What-" He scrubbed his eyes violently, resisting the passing urge to dry heave. "What the fuck was that?!"
"C-calm down, Brother! I'm- I'm sure it's not what it looked like!"
"What it looked like, Al?!" Ed whirled frantically on him, but his brother's voice was just as high and panicked as his own. "It looked like Hughes was- Hughes was- agh! Just... no, Al! I could see Mustang doing that, sick bastard- but Hughes?! Just ew! Ew ew ew!" It was rather like what it would feel like to see parents kiss and feel each other up, he imagined- because Hughes just had to act like a father to fucking everyone. Sure, he knew logically that it happened, and it was human nature and natural and normal but oh god did he not ever want to see it.
Al gestured frantically at him to calm down again- even if he looked just as scandalized as Ed imagined he did right now himself. "Okay, just slow down, slow down... like you said, it's Hughes. He'd never do that to Gracia! Come on, Ed, think about it; he wouldn't, he'd never-"
"But he just did! You saw what I did, Al! Ahhhh, oh, god..." He rubbed his eyes again, wishing desperately to blot the image out of his head. Even though his brother was right... Hughes wasn't Hohenheim, surely, he wouldn't just up and hurt his family like that- or if he would, Ed would turn around and go punch his lights out- but what they'd seen... "Maybe... maybe they fought, before he left on the mission? He didn't even mention her or Elicia the whole train ride here! Maybe he-"
"Brother!" Al forced him to stand still, keeping him in place and soulfire eyes boring deeply into his own. "Come on, think about it. He'd never do that. You're overthinking it! Remember, he's here working! There's gotta be an explanation for this!"
Ed forced out a meant to be steadying breath, rubbing a hand over his eyes again. Explanation... explanation. Yes. Of course. Everything was okay; Al was right, there had to be an explanation. After all, this was Hughes. If he'd run across Mustang feeling up a woman in a bar while he was supposed to be working, he'd be sickened but it- but this was Hughes! Obsessed with his wife and daughter actual nice person Hughes. It made no sense. It was illogical, ridiculous, impossible...
"Explanation..." he muttered, rubbing his face again. "I- yeah. Yeah, that makes sense... I suppose... he's working... somehow..."
Al nodded forcefully but with a little desperate whine of distress, too, and Ed could see how frantically he wanted to believe that was true. How much he, too, did not want what they had just seen to be real. "Yes. That's the only way. The... the only..." He looked away nervously, hands twisting together in the anxiety that rolled off of him in waves.
At last, trying very hard to shake it all off, Ed stood back from the wall, squaring his shoulders and struggling to straighten. "It's fine. Everything's fine. We'll just talk to him in the morning about this, right? He'll tell us what was actually going on. He'll have to. So there's just nothing we can do now."
With an anxious, relieved sort of sigh, Al joined him, plainly just as reluctant for the next morning as he was but even more reluctant at the idea of going back and accosting Hughes right now. "You're right," he mumbled shakily, and Ed sighed.
They finally set off on their way again, but this time, neither were moving that quickly, and when Ed started to lead the way back to their hotel rather than dinner, Al did not protest. "...Suddenly, I'm not hungry anymore," he said as way of an explanation, shuddering, and by the way Al twitched on their way down the street, he knew his brother could understand.
Needless to say, Ed had his share of problems with useless deadbeat dad, and it wasn't just for Gracia and Elicia's sake that he was hoping this was all just a misunderstanding.
That night, Ed and Al waited up for Hughes' return in an uneasy silence.
It wasn't until night became morning, the loud clock in their silent hotel room ticking away past midnight, that Al convinced him to get some sleep- and it wasn't until many hours later, the sun actually starting to rise and shine drearily inside at them, that the man of the hour actually returned.
Ed had been half asleep, lulled into exhaustion by the hours of nervous inaction and the unsettling unease he'd wanted to escape. He started awake at the sound of the door, always a light sleeper, and gripped Al's arm automatically, drawing closer to him before he remembered.
Then, he scowled.
Hughes.
The investigator stood boldly in the light of the open doorway, a small, self-satisfied kind of smile sprawled across his face and looking perfectly well-rested- almost sinfully so, for someone who'd been out literally the whole night. "Oh, Edward, Alphonse!" he exclaimed cheerfully upon seeing them, flashing a bright, odd sort of grin. "You waited up for me? You shouldn't have."
Ed stiffened, exhausted temper from the night before just starting to flare up again.
"We were worried, sir," Al hastened to say, surely because he knew Ed would be far less kind if he got the chance to speak. "We, uh, thought something had gone wrong during the mission..."
Hughes, however, just smiled again, seeming entirely unconcerned. Something about it didn't seem quite right... it was a small, twisted little thing, the kind of expression he saw on Mustang all time- but Hughes wore his heart on his sleeve and was over the top about everything. It was just off- but then it was gone, and he waved his hand airily as if the situation was hilarious indeed. "There's no reason for you boys to be worried about me. I'm fine. Concern yourself with your research, not me!" Stretching languorously, he walked over to sit on his own bed, settling himself back against the pillows with that odd smirk again. "I was just out late working, is all."
Ed hesitated, biting his lip. So, he had been working after all...?
On one hand, he knew how stupid and naive he'd have to be to buy that excuse. Not after what he'd seen at the bar. But, on the other hand- he wanted to believe it. He did genuinely like Hughes, and if what he'd seen had been real...
Swallowing, Ed pushed it just a little further, unable to help his innate suspicion no matter how much he wished it otherwise. "We saw you last night, Hughes. At that bar."
He watched very closely, prepared for the guilt or skittishness of a man who knew he'd been caught. When it didn't come, just a momentary blink of surprise that immediately slid into an easygoing grin, Ed found himself folding already in relief, all too eager to believe it. "Oh, that? Now I see why you're worried! Ha... that could be easily misconstrued." He crossed his ankles with another easy smile. "That was nothing, Ed. Don't worry. Those were a group of police officers. I can't exactly meet them in any sort of official capacity, being undercover and all... apparently most of our stops are going to be like this. It's easiest to exchange information like that, when you can make sure no one's listening that you don't want to be."
At the man's shrug, Ed paused, glancing warily at his brother. "...uh... oh. I... guess that makes sense..." He bit his lip again, shifting. Really, it was logical... they were supposed to be here working, after all, and Hughes had said that's what he'd been doing- working. It made sense... he really did not strike him as someone who would've hurt his family like that.
Hughes beamed at them both. "There's really an explanation for everything, you two. Don't worry. If you see something odd, just ask me about it." He paused for a moment, glancing meaningfully between the both of them as if waiting for more questions. When none came, he popped cheerily up to his feet again, grinning. "I'm going downstairs to get some coffee. Ed? Want any?"
"...Ah... no, I'm fine..." he mumbled, nonplussed and tired. "...just gonna go to bed, I think..."
"Okay." Hughes shrugged again, still smiling. "Suit yourself."
Ed slumped back, just watching as the investigator headed outside of the room and shut the door behind him, leaving the two of them alone. Ed hesitated a moment longer, just looking at the shut door- then shut his head vigorously and threw himself down into the bed sheets. "See, Al!" he announced, rushing the words out through a yawn. "Told you there'd be an explanation. Everything's fine." He hugged his pillow tightly to his chest, burying his face into his sheets. "He was just working, like you said."
"...Yeah..." Al mumbled next to him, and Ed just chose to ignore the unconvinced edge to his voice as he curled up.
After several moments, just long enough for the long night of half sleep to get to him and leave him hovering on the edge of a doze, he heard his brother mutter again.
"Did you notice, though, Brother? ...He wasn't wearing his wedding ring."
Ed froze.
"...He said he was undercover," he managed after several moments, voice somehow kept steady. "So of course he'd have taken it off."
Then, without another word, he forced his eyes shut again, not wanting to even consider the alternative.
"They're suspicious. They've noticed something."
"Would that, perhaps, be because you are unable to control yourself for so much as a single day? Or do you mean to tell me a pair of mere human children are really so perceptive, Lust."
"Oh, hush. I haven't had a man's body in centuries, Pride. I'd forgotten how... exhilarating, this is! I wouldn't expect you to understand, of course- but the feel of it is just-"
"Lust. Your role is to keep the sacrifices occupied and distracted. That is all. If are unable to perform even to that standard, I will dispatch Envy instead."
"And leave me free to do as I wish?! Pride, dear, why didn't you say so-"
"You will be once again tethered to Gluttony's side. So, if you wish to act as babysitter for that fat, disgraceful slob, then all you must do is say the word. And that, of course, is if Father does not take this failure as a sign you need to be reborn entirely. You remember what that entails, don't you, Lust? How we punish Greed?"
"..."
"I see we have reached an agreement, then. See to it that the Elrics remain ignorant- that is all, Lust. ...And remember: I will be watching."
Roy opened his eyes, tensing for a breath, and then, he sighed.
He'd had the dream again.
He rubbed his face with a shaking hand, dragging himself in a sitting position on his couch. He shrugged the throw blanket off his shoulders and folded his legs underneath him, trying to not let himself dwell on it. But he was shaking as he reached for the book on his coffee table, abandoned in his earlier hopes to finally get some decent sleep in terms of a nap, and his fingers still felt faintly sticky with blood as he flipped back to his place.
Oh, yes, he'd had that dream again.
"They're fine," he told himself blearily aloud, voice dry and disinterested as he turned another page. "Everyone's fine. Calm down."
He took a hesitant sip of long gone cold coffee, glaring at the pages, and decided tomorrow, he'd drop by the pharmacy on his way home and refill his sleeping pills- because he was getting quite tired of starting awake every single night.
It was the seventh day since his best friend's murder. And every night since, he'd been treated to dreams of everyone he'd ever cared for shot dead in a phone booth.
He really was quite fed up with it all.
And last night's...
God, that had been the worst.
After all, it was rather easy for him to reassure himself that his unit and his friends were really all right; just a cautious, surreptitious glance around his office the next day- but he couldn't exactly do that with Ed. Not anymore.
"Since when did I give you permission to invade my dreams, Fullmetal?" he snapped aloud, irritable and annoyed- but of course, no one answered him.
Fucking brat. Dared to have the audacity to barge into even his nightmares now, and of course didn't even manage to keep out of trouble there, either, managing to bleed to death while he sat away in East City, oblivious and helpless...
With a groan, Roy decided that tonight, once again, he'd be drinking himself to sleep.
He still hadn't heard any word from the damn kid. Now, a little bit of a cold shoulder, he'd expected, and known it was well deserved... but while Ed angered easily, he also forgave easily. To a point, always to a point- but the worst he'd ever had was a two day spat that had ended in Ed furiously, through gritted teeth, reluctantly explaining that the destroyed building Roy had yelled at him for had been to get to Al. Al, who had been captured, in the hands of the enemy.
Of course, he'd not really earned forgiveness, with that furious explanation... not until the next day, when Ed had somehow flooded his office- with him trapped inside. He'd not worked his way out until the standing water was almost two feet high, he remembered with a weak grin... but he'd finally escaped, and promptly chased Fullmetal down the hall with a fireball- and he'd known that Ed wasn't mad anymore.
A measly two days of upset, for that?
So, this time, he'd been so sure that after a couple days, Ed would cool down again, and come back, and he'd be able to talk to him, explain himself...
But he still hadn't shown up.
Roy smirked slightly, dragging himself to his feet and away from the warmth of his couch. Hawkeye was of the opinion, of course, that he should call the brat, and not wait for him to come to him. Seeing as this mess was entirely his fault, it was only right, she'd insisted. But of course, he really had no clue where Edward and Alphonse had ended up, or how to contact them- not to mention this was a conversation that shouldn't happen over the phone at all, and, really, he should just give the kid more time, he obviously needed it, and...
Well, what it came to was that his pride just would not allow it. Not yet.
Roy uncorked a bottle of whiskey, not bothering to grab a glass as he trekked back to his couch and pressed himself back into the corner of it, shaking his head darkly. Later, he told himself. He'd wait for Ed to get over himself enough to come back, and then, he'd resolve everything then. Right now, he felt capable for nothing more than his couch, his whiskey, and his memories.
Another glance at the textbook waiting for him made even the meager smile caused by such thoughts to fade.
Human Transmutation: Reconstruction of the Soul
Very, very bad for his reputation, that was, if anyone were to see it sitting on his coffee table. Highly illegal to attempt. There was questionably legality about even owning such a thing. Very, very bad.
Of course, it was all just nothing.
He wasn't serious about it. He wasn't actually considering anything. Wasn't taking any notes, or sketching out arrays, or planning. Just... wishful thinking, was what it was.
Maybe he was reading it to remind himself of what was forbidden. To stand so close to the forbidden fruit he could taste its poison but not suffer its death blow- because he hadn't been lying, to Hawkeye, when he'd promised her he was all right. He truly had no intentions to do this... but somehow, it was a little easier to assure himself of that, with the forbidden right at his fingertips rather than far away. To remember what this very grave mistake had cost Ed and Al, that even if it worked this was not what Maes would ever want, that it wouldn't work. That human transmutation did not work... because as much as it felt like it was the answer to all this desperate grief and sadness, it was not. It was the closest thing he had, but it was not now, nor would ever be, the answer.
He was just reading it, really. That was all.
Roy sighed, fingering the taboo book's pages again, and wished, for just a moment, to find truth there, and not bitter lies.
His phone went off, making him start out of his miserable self-loathing and look to the clock in surprise. Upon seeing the time he relaxed minutely; he'd not slept for as long as he thought. It if had been later, it would've had to be work, and he would've had no choice but to answer... but for now, he'd just let his machine get it. He was in no mood to talk. Not to anyone.
After the suitable number of rings pierced through his empty apartment, it cut briefly into silence... and then:
"Roy, it's Gracia."
He sunk deeper into his couch, teeth clenching from the weight of the guilty pit now settling in his gut.
"...I just wanted to call and see how you were doing... Elicia's asked about you a couple times. She wants to know where you are." She hesitated for a moment, her voice wavering. "...I know this isn't an easy time for either of us, and you're working, and that you're going back to East City soon so you're busy- but we haven't heard from you since the funeral, and I just- ...I know it's hard right now, Roy. But don't be a stranger, okay?"
Her voice cracked over the last word, and then, with a nervous, almost frantic air, the widow hung up.
This time, Roy only last three seconds in the painful, brutal silence of his empty apartment before he yanked himself to his feet, whiskey and book forgotten.
He had no idea where he was going, but he could not stay here.
Overall, he wasn't very surprised with where he ended up.
Given his mental state, really, there were only three options- a bar, his mother's bar, or here. Hawkeye, at least, he was sure would approve of his choice.
Not that a graveyard was a very appropriate place to be, this time of night, but he figured she could forgive him this indiscretion. Just this once.
Just this once.
It was far too soon, however, for him standing here at his best friend's grave to be anything but painful. Maybe, many months from now, this could be a cathartic sort of experience but right now it just hurt, and after several moments of just looking down at the gravestone, too dark to even read the words, he fumbled to sit down on his knees in the dirt, back slouching and as he leaned his cheek against his cold fist.
"I don't know what I'm supposed to do, Maes," he whispered voice almost lost to the cool night air. Then decided it was a little too soon for him to be talking into thin air at his best friend's grave, and fell silent instead.
I don't know what I'm supposed to do.
One of his hands buried miserably in the grass and dirt, and he bowed his head, stiff and shaking in the wind.
He didn't know what he was supposed to do. He did know, however, that he had never felt this acutely lonely or miserable in his entire life.
And the thing was, he knew what Maes would tell him to do. Rotten bastard would chastise and lecture him, drag him to his feet, tell him to get his act together and call Edward. Then he'd smirk and laugh at him, tell him to put that book on his couch away because it wasn't healthy, and to keep heading forward with his eyes fixated only on a brighter future.
Well, I'm not quite ready to stop moping yet, you ass. My best friend just died. ...Think I deserve a little bit of moping time.
Nothing but the cold silence of a graveyard answered him.
After several beats of second, Roy flexed his hand in the dirt, trying to settle himself more comfortably. He hated being here, but something told him this was better than burying his face in a text on human transmutation for the rest of the night, and besides, after coming all the way out here, he wasn't just going to leave in two minutes. However, as he adjusted himself in the grass, his fingers ran into something hard, freezing, and very unexpected.
Roy frowned, the weight of grief momentarily driven back by curiosity. He fumbled in the grass, grasping the little thing, and snapped with his other hand, making a tiny flame by which to see by.
His frown deepened.
In his hand, clutched between his thumb and forefinger, sparkling gold in the firelight, cold and lonely and abandoned, lay a very familiar wedding ring.
