Tantrum Time
Roy stretched out his legs and pulled the ottoman a little closer with the heels of his feet. Setting the book back onto his lap and holding it there with one hand, he reached absently for his cup with the other, and took a sip of tea. The house had settled around him, quiet and dark, beyond the circle of light cast by the lamp on the side table to his left. After putting Al's dinner on a plate and sliding it into the oven to keep it warm, he had settled in for an evening's solitary reading in the living room.
For possibly the hundredth time, he glanced toward the doorway into the hall, then shook his head and re-read a paragraph in the book. For possibly the tenth time.
Al wasn't usually this late getting home, but sometimes he did lose track of time at the library. He and Fletcher were probably buried in books, puzzling over some big medical problem.
Roy's eyes roved sightlessly across the page before him as he thought back to his chat with Dr. Yuen, two days ago at the backyard party. The man had listened mostly in silence as they'd strolled around the block in the sunshine, and Roy had explained what was going on with his young ward. Even after the summary ended, the doctor had walked on without speaking for a while, hands clasped behind his back as he contemplated what he'd been told.
"Do you know why the boy has done this?" he had asked at last.
"I told you," Roy's restless eyes had surveyed the street, taking in a couple of boys in a nearby yard, throwing a ball back and forth. "He's uncomfortable and embarrassed by his physical reactions."
"No," the doctor shook his head. "That is not why."
"What do you mean? Do you know another reason, then?" Roy's heart had sunk in dismay. What else had he missed, that was right in front of him? What other reasons could there be for what Alphonse had done to himself?
"He is very brave," Yuen had chided. "You know this. The discomfort of these physical changes would not be enough by themselves to make him flee in such a way. The other reasons -- his true reasons," said the doctor, "Those are what you must discover."
Roy had run a frustrated hand through his unruly hair. "If his reasons aren't what he says they are…then I have no idea what they could be. Or how I can possibly find out."
"You will find the way," Yuen had smiled. "You love him. You will know. But," he held up a hand, "not yet. I must take the first steps, and then you will finish. After that, we will try to undo what has been done. But wait for me to begin."
"What are you going to do?"
"You will see," the doctor had smiled again, and said nothing more.
So Roy had spent the last two days trying to calm his nerves (those alchemical formulas were coming in handy lately), and waiting for word from the doctor. And wracking his brains trying to imagine how he was ever going to discover what other reasons Al might have had for mutilating himself as he had done. If he knew the boy so well – why had he missed something so important?
It didn't help that Jean kept asking if he'd thought of anything yet – arousing the curiosity of everyone else on the staff. Roy had finally grabbed his arm, dragged him down the hall into an empty office, and threatened that if he didn't keep his mouth shut, he'd be reduced to the same condition Al was in. By much less benign means.
Roy smiled at the recollection, turning the page. But just as he reached again for his teacup, his head jerked up at the sound of footsteps on the front porch, and of a key turning in the lock. Placing a bookmark and closing the book, he set it on the side table as the outer door opened. The floor creaked slightly, with the soft click of the closing door, followed by the heavy thunk of a satchel dropping to the floor. And then nothing.
"Al?" he said, rising and walking toward the dark hallway. "I've got your supper warming in the oven. How was your day?"
No answer. He frowned as he reached the opening and peered into the shadows. The young man's shape outlined itself dimly against the square of grey light from the window set into the door, but his face remained invisible. Roy set a hand on the frame of the doorway and repeated slowly, "Alphonse? Is everything all right? You must be tired. Come and have something to eat."
A single, sharply indrawn breath. "You told him."
Roy's stomach swooped, as though dropping from a great height. The moment was apparently upon him, without warning. Whatever Dr. Yuen had planned, it had clearly now been set in motion. "You will see," the man had said. Well…now they would see, indeed.
He could have played dumb, to buy himself a few more seconds – and undoubtedly earn the contempt of the stiff, motionless figure in the dark hallway. Instead, Roy straightened, as though facing a firing squad. "Ah," he said, pleased at the steadiness of his voice. "Dr. Yuen has talked to you, then."
The outline of the boy remained utterly motionless. After a long pause, "He's done more than that," came the flat response.
"Al…don't be upset with him. I didn't know what else to do. I wanted to talk to a medical person – "
"No you didn't." The flat voice cut him off. "You wanted to find someone who could threaten me when I wouldn't agree with you."
"Threaten?" Roy hesitated, licking his lips. "Al. What did Yuen say to you? I certainly didn't – "
"He's kicked me out of his class."
Roy's breath caught with a painful gasp. "My god. Al, are you sure? You must have misunderstood. I never asked him – "
"Of course I'm sure." The emotionless, clipped recitation in the darkness was rapidly making Roy's spine crawl. His hand twitched, automatically reaching for the non-existent glove in his pocket. The voice came again from that featureless shape. "He told me that if I wouldn't change myself back, then he wouldn't allow me to become a doctor. He waited till everyone else had gone home for the day, and then he ambushed me. He won't let me go back tomorrow. He won't even let me in the seminar room. He's having all my books collected out of my cupboard and sent here by the end of the week."
Roy fought a sudden wave of nausea. Damn the man – what did he think he was doing? Roy had wanted help, and this was what the doctor had done instead?
"Alphonse, I'm sorry. I'll talk to him. This wasn't what I wanted at all, when I told him what was going on."
"Yes it was." For the first time, he could detect the tremble of emotion in that voice, aimed at him in the dark. "This is exactly what you wanted. If you couldn't get your way by yourself, you were going to get it by making someone else attack me instead."
Roy shook his head vehemently. "You have to believe me. I never would have said anything to him if I thought he'd go this far. I just thought Yuen would try to reason with you, that's all."
"He was right about you all along," Al blurted.
Yuen 'was right' about him…? What was that supposed to mean?
"He called you a manipulator," the boy said, "and I thought he was exaggerating."
No. Oh no. Roy's heart sank. Al wasn't talking about Yuen at all any more, was he?
He opened his mouth, but that low, tightly vibrating voice just kept coming at him out of the shadows. "He was right – Ed was right about you all along. I thought he was wrong – I thought you were different – but as soon as I don't do what you want, you start plotting. Just like he said. Just like you always do. He was right about everything."
"Al – listen to me – it's not like that – "
"You wouldn't listen – you wouldn't trust me – " At last, seemingly loosed from its restraints, Al's voice began to rise. Roy could just picture him, the patches of colour rising in his cheeks, his jaw setting, the Elric glare beginning to crackle in his eyes. "You wouldn't let me make my own decisions – you had to make sure I'd be forced to do what you wanted, or you'd wreck my life!"
"Alphonse, I would never do that to you," Roy insisted. "Why would I want to wreck your life? I want you to be whole, and healthy. I wouldn't try to hurt you just to get my way. You're the most important person in the world to me – my friend, my little bro – "
"Don't you dare call me that!" The outraged shriek hurled itself at Roy like a tidal wave or a wild beast.
Roy cursed himself: of all times for his secret thought to burst out of him. But it was true – he meant it – and now he'd ruined everything by letting himself say it. He stepped forward, lifting his hands. Maybe he could salvage the situation.
"Al," he urged, "just stop for a minute. I'm sorry I said that – but you are important to me. Don't you understand that?" He set his hands on the boy's shoulders.
And was instantly thrust away with such unexpected violence that his shoulder slammed against the wall, sending a jolting pain all down his arm. He pushed himself upright, flexing his hand a couple of times, experimentally.
"Don't touch me!" Al yelled raggedly. "Don't even talk to me! I don't want to hear another word out of your mouth, ever, you liar! I'll never forgive you for this!"
"Al, stop it," Roy gasped. "We have to talk about this – "
"I'm not talking to you any more!" The young man hurtled forward, pushing past his housemate in a rush and flinging himself up into the murk of the stairwell as though chased by a fiend.
Roy leaped after him, his hand stinging as he grabbed the banister. "Al, come back here!" he cried. "You can't run away from everything, you have to deal with it. Stop running!"
Al was nothing but a swift shadow, a dark blur against the dim background. But Roy caught up with him halfway down the hall, clutching at him with uncertain hands. He got hold of Alphonse's arm, and immediately the youngster wheeled around, fighting his grip with the ferocity of a cornered animal. They grappled for a couple of wild moments, their harsh breathing rebounding between the walls as they twisted back and forth. Finally Al's clenched fist slammed against Roy's ear, sending him staggering sideways, his head ringing.
"I never want to talk to you again!" Al yelled. "I hate you! Just stay away from me – I hate you!"
Roy lurched forward, reaching for him yet again, but this time the shadow faded like mist between his hands, and the sound of a slamming door hit him with an almost physical concussion. He slapped his hands against the wall and fumbled along the surface to Al's bedroom door, feeling for the knob. But as he grasped it, it refused to turn.
"Listen to me!" Roy called, rattling it. "There's no point trying to hole up in there, because you know I'm not going away."
"Leave me alone!"
"Not a chance, Alphonse. We're going to talk about this if it's the last thing we do. I'm staying here until we – "
A blue-white glow seemed to explode around him, half blinding him and driving him backwards against the opposite wall, one hand raised to shield his eyes. When the light faded, he lurched blindly forward again, hands lifted, groping for the door. But as his hands pressed again against the flat surface before him and swept back and forth, he recognized what Al had done.
"Very funny," he called, "but you have to put the door back eventually, Alphonse."
No answer. But that didn't surprise him. He tapped on the blank wall a few times, not sure what he was looking for, maybe trying to find a hollow spot or something. But even if he did, what would he do then – put a fist through it?
Finally, setting his forehead and hands against the wall with a sigh, he called out again. "Fine, stay in there and think for a while. But this isn't over, Alphonse. I may not agree with what Yuen did, but we still have to talk about this. You're becoming an adult, and you have to start behaving like one, instead of throwing tantrums. I'm not going anywhere, and I'm not going to rest until we get this settled. I can't let you cripple yourself for the rest of your life, even if you hate me for trying to help you."
Again he waited, but heard nothing from the other side of the wall. For a fleeting moment, he wished that it were Ed inside the room instead of Al. At least then, he'd have the dubious comfort of hearing things smashing against the wall, and perhaps the breaking of furniture. Alphonse, on the other hand, was going to huddle in silence on his bed and brood, wallowing in his sense of betrayal.
And Roy, turning around to slump back against the wall and stare into the shadows, wasn't entirely sure that the kid would be wrong. Maybe Roy had indeed betrayed him, trying to get the teacher involved. But how else could he have responded to his helplessness in the face of Al's incomprehensible action? He'd hoped that Doctor Yuen could help him persuade his young ward to undo what had been done. Had he just been abdicating his own responsibility?
It hardly mattered now, did it? Because instead of helping, the man had thrown everything back into Roy's lap, and left him where he'd been before. Except that Roy now had to deal with the extra fact of Al's whole professional future being ruined.
At last he pushed away from the wall and got himself ready for bed. Not that he really expected to sleep. He had to think, had to find something to say that would be persuasive when he and Al talked in the morning. Something, anything that would help Alphonse understand that his housemate hadn't been trying to manipulate him, but had only been trying to help. Surely, after he calmed down, he'd be able to think, to see things from Roy's point of view. Hadn't Alphonse always been the level-headed brother, the empathetic one, who understood the thoughts and feelings of other people, the one who'd been able to see all sides of an issue?
Yet he hadn't exactly been thinking rationally lately, had he? Roy could imagine him holing up in his bedroom for days, refusing to communicate, or even to eat. Or else…
Or else he might leave, the man acknowledged with a sinking heart. He could wake up in the morning and find the bedroom next door empty, and Alphonse vanished into the night.
Roy crawled into bed and laid there, staring at the ceiling. As he'd expected, he couldn't make himself close his eyes, instead lying widely awake as the minutes and then the hours began to crawl past. Straining his ears in the dark, he barely allowed himself to breathe, lest he miss any small sound in the hallway. If he was awake, he'd be sure to see the light of the alchemic reaction if Al changed the door back. He just needed to stay alert.
That was…if Alphonse left by the door at all. He could just as easily go out the window and never recreate the door at all, fashioning instead a ladder or stairway down into the yard. And he'd vanish – to Risembool, to the wilderness, Roy couldn't begin to guess where – and if Al didn't want to be found, then no one would ever see him again.
It was a horrible thought, one that Roy couldn't even bear to contemplate. To lose the boy – lose that cheerful smile in the morning, the quiet companionship in the evening, the laughter, the new view of the world he'd discovered as he'd watched Alphonse reacquaint himself with all his new sensations…
Ed, he thought, swallowing the involuntary lump in his throat, I'm so sorry. You left him in my care and I've ruined everything. What would you have done if you were here and Al had done this to himself?
Somehow…he didn't think this would have happened at all, if Ed had been here. Or if it had, Ed would have yelled, and Al would have listened, and everything would have been fixed.
Because Ed was the big brother – not Roy. And no matter how much he loved his young ward, the man thought bitterly to himself in the dark, he would always be inadequate in the most important moments, when Alphonse needed his big brother. He was second best, and that just wasn't good enough.
He lay so thoroughly mired in these gloomy thoughts that when the bright glow finally appeared, reflecting off the wallpaper on the wall across the hallway, it took him a few seconds to recognize what it was. Heart racing, he closed his eyes just in time, as the footsteps paused briefly outside his door, Al no doubt peeking in to make sure his housemate was asleep. Finally the bedroom door closed with a light click, and the footsteps resumed. Even as Roy flung his covers back, he could hear them receding lightly along the hall, and quickly down the stairs.
He threw on some pants and slipped into his shoes. Grabbing a shirt, he gingerly pressed himself against the wall and opened his bedroom door, in time to hear the front door opening and closing again. Dashing down the stairs, slipping his arms into the shirt as he went, he grabbed his jacket from the closet, and his keys from the little table near the door. He zipped them into a jacket pocket, to keep them from jangling, and stepped outside.
Alphonse was halfway down the block already. The air had cooled slightly from the warmth of the day, and he'd put on his light summer jacket. As far as Roy could tell, as the boy strode quickly into and out of the light of a streetlamp, he didn't seem to be carrying a suitcase or even a backpack. But if he was running away, he'd probably be resourceful enough to get anything he needed as he traveled.
On the other hand, if he was just going for a long walk to clear his head, it might prove embarrassing when he finally got back to the house and found his housemate coming in behind him.
But until Roy knew for sure, he didn't plan to take any chances. He melted into the shadows as best he could, following at a safe distance as Alphonse set out into the night.
