Hikari Kura: Scar will be happy one of these days that he's stuck with Al... until then he gets to be adorable in his denial and potential lethal retaliation for being called adorable.
Sailor Silver Rose: Not getting rid of Al is a very good thing... Al is the perfect one to convince him of it though, Scar doesn't stand a chance. Elrics are stubborn.
Brokhen Windu: Well thank you. Heck, bringing you over to thinking that Scar and Al make a good couple is success enough in my book, but Ed and Roy too? That merits me baking myself brownies. Thanks.
anmb: You weren't the only one thinking smutty in the non-smutty parts... I myself will admit to blame, considering I know I get a few wicked grins while writing things that really could go both ways XD.
GWings: Accepting it immediately would make it easier on him, but... I'm not that nice XD. And oh dear, Scar and Ed? They really would kill each other. It wouldn't be a strangling, it'd be a stabbing.
GreedxEd: I must have missed the part where I ever planned to get Al pregnant. What were you drinking that night? And can I have some?
accident prone: Scar does do reluctantance very well as a characterization... for some reason he's just humorous at it. We're used to him being so gung-ho, but I like to think it's Al's influence that can give him more levels.
MandaxPanda: Yes! Playful banter is fun. Sure beats me writing psychological torment stuff... which is good too, but a whole chapter of it probably would have molested the genres.
Nana-Riiko: Oh don't worry, there have been plenty of people wary at first. You're in good company. I'm so happy that you're enjoying it now!
Cheru-chan: Now you've got me intrigued with your thoughts-to-make-a-sailor-blush... darn you. And Scar/Al is not a bad addiction to have.
Kari Kurofai: Right now he finds that sort of truth more headache inducing than blissful.
Cesaree: Thank you, I'm so glad my Alphonse is coming across so well. I really love him as a character, so he's worth the effort. And yes, Scar is definitely realizing that Al is worth getting to know... at least in such a way that he hasn't killed him yet.
Insanity: Thank you! And I shall.
Well my technical difficulties are about halfway fixed now... and since it's been over a month, straight to the update.
I'm having trouble recalling what amusing thing happened to me recently that would be amusing enough for everyone to actually read through before racing to what I know you're really here for.
I hope you enjoy!
Chapter Six
When Alphonse exited the bathroom he found the mattress devoid of Scar. In fact, the entire room was empty of the man. He paused for a moment until he heard the light tapping of the cane out in the other room, and felt the pull between them reassure him that Scar seemed to be in the direction of the kitchen.
As long as the man didn't run off outside... Alphonse wasn't sure how easy it would be to drag him back.
It wasn't as if Scar really needed to go anywhere, so for today he didn't feel the least bit bad about wanting to keep the man inside. All the time of seeing through Scar's eyes had revealed to him that the most productive thing the man did now was drink alcohol. He could give it up for a day or so in the pursuit of healing.
Walking over to the mattress he knelt down beside it and rummaged with the thin sheet to find the zipper that apparently kept the mattress sealed. He had to half remove the bedding, such as it was, to do so, but find it he did.
A few hearty tugs got the zipper moving, and Alphonse eased it down and around carefully until he could spot the corners of papers beneath the mattress casing. Carefully he reached in and grabbed all that he could find by touch and pulled them out.
He felt only a flicker of surprised satisfaction that he'd been right, and that he recognized some of these immediately just as they were. And with a bit of a wry smile he fanned them out around him, trying to keep them in what seemed to be a rough chronological order.
It was like that, that Scar reentered the room and found him.
"You better put my mattress back as it was by the time I'm ready to kick you out."
Alphonse didn't even glance up at him. "Don't get your boxer briefs in a twist. You're not completely helpless yourself you know."
Scar snorted and tapped his way over to peer down at the papers from where he hovered now over Alphonse's shoulder. "Anything important, or are you just snooping now?"
"It's all important," Alphonse replied calmly, "important because it chronicles to me the extent of your stupidity at self-treatment. I can hold this over your head the next time something happens to you, because I can bet that you'll try and self-medicate just to piss me off because you'll know I can't sleep."
"Give me a list of what you'd recommend then." Scar rolled his eyes, and then with the beginnings of alarm, "and how do you know what type of underwear I wear?!"
Alphonse looked up at him with a deadpan expression and an arched eyebrow. "Well if you didn't look down when you were getting dressed or doing your laundry I wouldn't, now would I? Not that I have anything against them, they're supportive and I've… well… you need the support unless you want to really be sagging when you're sixty." He flushed and shook his head quickly to clear all thoughts of Scar's endowments. "Anyway…"
Scar was blanking out as he watched Alphonse's mouth move in what he assumed was an answer to his other question. He was still too shocked trying to process that Alphonse seemed to have seen quite a lot more than he'd previously thought in those dreams of his. The slight pinking of Alphonse's cheeks had been clue enough.
And had Alphonse slipped in a thinly veiled comment about his… Scar shook his head in bewilderment while feeling just a bit violated.
Alphonse looked up again when Scar made no reply, and sighing as he saw the look on the man's face he raised a hand to snap his fingers several times in quick succession until the partially glazed look was wiped off Scar's face and was quickly replaced by one that foreboded an incoming burst of outrage unless he headed it off. "It's not like I was able to choose what I saw." He berated him as gently as he dared. "I was just answering your question… with complete honesty. Not that I'd have needed to see to guess if I was so inclined to perversion." He waved a hand at the man in general reference. "The rest of you is fairly large too."
By now, Alphonse had turned from slightly pink, to a healthy shade of red.
Scar blinked at him, incredulity rising inside of him to oddly enough, override his immediate vie for anger at the intrusion to his privacy. Because in the back of his mind he knew that Alphonse was right, he wasn't able to choose what he saw. And in a dream, he couldn't look away. "I think I'll be getting dressed with my eyes always up from now on."
Alphonse felt his blush latch in for a tighter hold, and he ducked his head though he knew it would do no good. Scar had already seen. "Hopefully I won't be seeing anything else after your arms and such are completely healed."
"Still." Scar growled, and then determined to get the topic steered back away from his bits, he shook his head slightly to try and clear his mind. "Now what were you saying you'd recommend since you seem so keen to call me stupid at self-treatment?"
Alphonse was grateful for the change of topic, and that Scar wasn't bashing him over the head right now with the cane for what he'd unintentionally seen. "You are." He assured the man flatly, and feeling the glare, quickly continued. "First of all, don't you ever use those shots again. Ever."
"Yes, I got that part already." Scar scowled down his nose at him.
Alphonse merely lifted an eyebrow in response to the look. "Hopefully it sank in. Now, as for your other methods? You can't rely on just an analgesic paste with a few healing herbs thrown in at the end of the ingredients label to cure much of anything. I looked through your supplies, remember, I saw how lacking you were. So wipe that scowl off your face and sit down so I stop getting a crick in my neck. It's already hurting still from you strangling me, I'd rather not give it any more grief at your expense."
Scar only doubled his scowl just for spite, but did sit.
"Good." Alphonse then tapped the papers in front of him. "Pay attention now, and maybe any other medical notes you have to write for yourself won't be as thick with things doomed to fail. I'm about to give you the crash course in herbs that my friend gave to me before coming here. And I know you can find them out here as well, so you've no excuse."
"Just get on with it." Scar pressed him while fighting the urge to whack the young man upside the head. Yes, Alphonse had recovered his nerves nicely… he'd forgotten just how willful the caramel-blond could be when he put his mind to it.
By the time Alphonse had finished with his explanations and imparting of information, he was secretly pleased by the pained look on Scar's face as the man battled with what appeared to be a headache of trying to take everything in. And as he waited for Scar to pull himself together, he grabbed up all of Scar's notes and stacked them together neatly again before turning to slip them back into the mattress.
He was replacing the bedding when Scar finally spoke.
"Have you ever felt my pain? In these dreams?"
Alphonse's head whipped around, and he stared at Scar through guarded eyes a long moment before saying, "not exactly. But after I wake up from them, depending on what I saw… take for instance ones that involved you being in pain. All the dreams make me toss and turn, but those ones I wake up clammy from. Kind of like a fever just broke, but I was never sick to begin with."
"So they do affect you then." Scar stated.
"Yes." Alphonse shrugged his shoulders a bit. "They're different from any other dream I used to have. Even nightmares. I've not had any normal sleep at all since this started… what sleep I've had. But they do affect me uniquely."
Scar slowly nodded, his hands fiddling with the cane that was balanced across his crossed legs. "Good."
Alphonse frowned at him as he paused in his straightening of the sheet.
Catching the look, Scar quickly explained. "Not good that you're affected. Believe me, I do not like the thought that you've been joyriding in my head to sightsee through my own eyes. Even more so that it seems to allow you to always know generally where I am. But, I'm glad you never felt the pain I was in." And his eyes darted between his cane and Alphonse several times in rapid succession. "I wouldn't have wanted you to be in pain like that because of me."
Alphonse was silent a moment, mouth slightly open as he let that sink in. And as Scar continued to refuse to meet his eyes, seemingly now occupied by glaring at his cane, he smiled faintly. "Careful, Scar… you might make me think you actually still care about what happens to me."
Scar did look up at him then, red eyes narrowing slightly before he suddenly righted his cane and used it to hoist himself quickly to his feet. "Don't flatter yourself with the thought. I'm just not cold-hearted. And you're still leaving tonight, even if I have to toss you out myself."
"That's so generous of you to offer your assistance so readily." Alphonse rolled his eyes.
Scar huffed and turned to stalk from the room while muttering something about making lunch. Alphonse watched him go before shaking his head wearily and busied himself organizing some things that were still laid out from his treating of Scar earlier. And once he had finished he sat there on the floor, debating about going to see what Scar was cooking, or just staying right where he was – it wasn't comfortable, but he was tired and movement was a chore to even think about.
He never actually came to a decision himself, nor did he remember his eyes closing of their own accord. But the thump as he hit the floor sideways in a deep sleep was answer enough.
Out in the kitchen, Scar had finally finished cooking the pork chops and steaming the broccoli. He was not used to cooking for two, and was not happy that it had taken longer as he'd had to wait for one chop to finish in the pan before adding another, but finish he did.
And still he'd seen not a trace of Alphonse.
Something that suited him just fine, but he did have to wonder what the brat was up to staying so long in his bedroom. He had better not be rooting through anything else.
"Alphonse!" He barked as he worked on filling two plates with the food – making sure the smallest amount went to the temporary squatter he was allowing into his home. "Get out here or I'll eat your food too!"
But when he had finished filling the plates, and had walked his own over to the table, and yet there was still no sign of the young man, Scar grumbled under his breath several unkind remarks about making invalids walk around needlessly as he turned to make his way back to the bedroom to see what the hell Alphonse was up to.
Scar stopped dead in his tracks, blinking once in surprise as he saw Alphonse lying there on the floor. If asked later, he'd never admit to the way his heart had seemed to falter and jump into his throat as he suddenly rushed forward, his cane clattering to the floor as he fell to his knees beside Alphonse and instantly grabbed one wrist to feel for a pulse.
Only to realize soon after that Alphonse was actually asleep.
He'd also never admit to the relief that flooded him before he suddenly became annoyed and dropped the wrist. "Who said you could take a nap?" He grouched, but sighed.
Shaking his head, and silently daring Alphonse to say anything about it when he woke up, he reached over the sleeping body to grab his blanket from his mattress and drape it over his personal tormenter. The blanket, while barely big enough for himself, dwarfed the smaller form of Alphonse. And then reaching again, he seized the pillow and gently lifted Alphonse's head enough to stick the pillow under it.
It was the best he could do, he wasn't about to try lifting him onto the mattress and risk his bandages becoming mussed. He doubted Alphonse would do anything but scowl at him for it despite the act that had caused it. And while he knew he shouldn't care if Alphonse were to get upset with him… he didn't try for the mattress.
"You better hope I don't eat your share of food too." He grumbled as he grabbed his cane and stood back up. "Troublesome brat that you are. I'll be glad when you're gone."
And that said, he turned to go find his lunch and leave Alphonse to the sleep he knew that the young man probably needed more than food. Besides, he was much more bearable when he was asleep – quiet and unguarded… but mostly quiet.
Several hours passed before Alphonse even began to stir. But he did not awaken immediately.
It was not until he slowly became aware that he was warm and everything but his head seemed to feel sore that his eyes suddenly opened wide. The shock that he'd fallen asleep didn't even register for very long as he realized why he felt warm… and why everything but his head felt sore.
The floor was definitely not made for sleeping on.
Alphonse shot up into a seated position as he quickly looked about the room, finding it empty. The thin blanket slipped from his shoulders to pool around his waist, and he glanced down at it, and then over to the pillow with nothing short of surprised amazement in his eyes.
But… why?
Clearly Scar had come in here and found him sleeping. But what he couldn't understand was why the man had actually blanketed and given him a pillow instead of prodding him awake with the end of his cane. It seemed the more logical thing for him to do considering the only other type of treatment he'd had at Scar's hands when it came to him being asleep.
Still blinking rather owlishly, he carefully moved both blanket and pillow back onto the mattress before scrambling a bit stiffly to his feet. With a groan and a stretch to try and rid his muscles of the damage the hard floor had done to them, he then pulled his lower lip between his teeth a moment pensively before heading off to find Scar.
What he found was a plate of food sitting on the floor next to the table. Clearly meant for him, and he couldn't help but frown disapprovingly that Scar would do such a thing when the man wasn't using the table himself.
And speaking of which… Alphonse looked around in sudden confusion. Where was Scar?
Forgetting instantly about the food and its degrading placement, all things considered with the table being empty, Alphonse quickly located the tug of the rest of Scar's soul.
The man was definitely not in the house, that much was certain.
Only debating it a moment, Alphonse suddenly rushed to the door and yanked it open. Letting it slam shut behind him he didn't even need the magnetic pull to know where Scar had gone. There was only one other place the man frequented as much as his own poor excuse for a house.
That bar at the bazaar.
And he jogged off in that direction as he beat the lingering remnants of sleep from his mind. Now was not the time to try for more sleep. He was the object of more than one curious glance, but he was not stopped as he cut around people who were suddenly in his way.
As Scar had theorized, most of them probably thought him a prostitute anyway. And there was no reason to stop prostitutes from getting exercise of a different sort.
He didn't even have the time to feel disgruntled about the mistaken assumptions as he finally made it to the bazaar. Upon where he was immediately offered a live chicken by one of the Ishbalans peddling their wares in the market area.
He waved away the chicken and immediately honed in on the bar, eyes already picking out the familiar broad shoulders and overall sturdy build of the man he sought. With a growl under his breath he stalked forward to bear down upon him.
Scar swore and nearly spilled his beer as Alphonse suddenly fell sideways in a lean against the bar counter next to him. "Fuck, Alphonse!" He growled at him. "I know you're small and all, but would you mind not just popping out of the ground? Give a man some warning."
"The beer is obviously dulling your senses." Alphonse snapped and glared at the offending brew. "The Scar I used to know would have heard me ten paces back even over this racket."
"Buy… buy…"
Alphonse whipped his head around to stare at the Ishbalan with the chicken, still determined to get him to purchase the fowl. "I don't want a chicken!" He snapped.
Scar vaguely noted Alphonse being given a dirty look before the peddler went away, he was too busy glaring at the younger man. "The Scar you used to know had no access to beer at the time. I'm currently well on my way to getting pissed, if you don't mind. So keep your comments to yourself, I'll be the same as you remember once I'm sober. Why are you here anyway?"
"Because you promised me today." Alphonse stated firmly. "You can get wasted after my time is up. And how do you think you getting wasted drunk is going to help me tonight when I check you over for pain? You'll be completely useless!"
Scar shrugged and tossed back another mouthful of beer before saying, "I've been healing just fine. I see no reason why it would change. And you know it won't, you're just being ornery."
Alphonse glared at him, "maybe I am. Maybe I'm being selfish. But you promised me! I was taking this seriously… and…" he fell silent with a sudden shake of his head.
"You were asleep. I wasn't about to just sit around." Scar told him.
Alphonse met red eyes with hard amber ones. "And this was your only other option? You're on your way to healing… no longer being practically an invalid. You can have a life again, Scar. Maybe you should have been planning for that, rather than drinking. Because as you said, you are healing. No need to drink away the pain anymore…" and he drew away from the counter with a sigh. "You know where I'll be when you're done." And turning away he added, "thank you, for taking care of me" before he quickly walked away.
And he shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked, staring unseeingly at the ground.
Let Scar believe he'd just been thanking him for letting him sleep, and the manner in which he'd done so. But it was far more than that... a thanks he'd never been able to say before…
Scar watched him go through narrowed eyes, absently letting his fingers slowly slip from around the mug of beer he'd been nursing.
"At least he didn't spill the beer this time. You know that kid?"
The question came from the direction of the bartender.
As Alphonse turned the corner out of sight, Scar looked down at the bar counter with brows furrowed in thought. "He's hardly a kid anymore."
"I noticed." The bartender grinned a bit. "He's just young, but not bad to look at."
That comment made Scar look up sharply. "And if you try touching him, I'll rip your arms off." He stated in a matter-of-fact growl, and abandoning his beer he suddenly swept off after Alphonse, barely using his cane he was moving so quickly.
The bartender only blinked after him before shrugging and going back to what he'd been doing.
Alphonse had made it back to the familiar house, and was just moving his plate of food up to the table when the door swung in. Looking around, startled, he said nothing as Scar entered and slammed the door shut behind him. Only stared.
Scar stared right back at him, and silence reigned for a tense minute before he spoke at last. "You're right. I have a chance to have my life back again, and it's because of you… because you're right, I promised you something."
Alphonse was silent a moment longer, before he finally gave a nod of acceptance. "I just don't like seeing you like that… like anything less than the man I used to know. I don't know what you plan to do now that you can do something again… I mean," he gave a small laugh, "I hope it isn't like the last time… but you should figure it out."
Scar felt himself begin to smirk in a calculative manner as he slowly prowled his way over to the amber-eyed man. "You didn't enjoy what I was doing the last time? I happened to think it was for a good cause."
"Well we all make mistakes in the eyes of others and get strangled for them eventually." Alphonse retorted as he braved a small smile. "Even if I'm not brave enough to try strangling you."
"Wise decision." Scar noted. "Though I seem to recall you being brave enough to attack me in other ways."
Alphonse didn't flinch away as the man finally stood before him, "you were tormenting me and you know it. You scare me when you get like that, I've told you already."
"Well," Scar replied then, in a purposefully quieted voice, "I'll see what I can do about finding a less lethal occupation." And with a flash of an almost sadistic grin he ducked around Alphonse to make his way over to the kitchen area. "What is it that you do now, anyway?"
"Do you really care?" Alphonse questioned back as he turned to sit on the chair at the table and pick up his fork and knife while eyeing his pork chop with keen hunger.
Scar's head tilted to one side as he thought about it, and then shrugged. "Not really, no."
Alphonse rolled his eyes. Predictable. "Then don't ask me questions you don't mean. I'll at least assure you I'm not in the military… I'd rather not get my brains blown out so easily."
Scar actually smirked at that as he filled a glass with water for himself. "Sounds like a bluff to me."
"Don't be a jerk." Alphonse grumbled and continued to eat without hesitation.
Scar frowned at that, took a long chug of his water before setting the glass aside and slinking over to Alphonse to come up behind him. And with his cane-free hand he leaned over the smaller man, bracing himself on the table. "Now Alphonse," he rebuked silkily, "it would actually take a lot more than your occupation to make me want to kill you."
"Yes…" Alphonse agreed as he continued eating as if not noticing the man towering over him with such ease. "Because for all we know, killing me would kill you too."
Scar's smirk thinned, "you've not got me entirely convinced yet."
"Perhaps not." Alphonse agreed once more, and finally tilted his head back to look straight up into a crimson gaze. "But would you risk it?"
Scar looked back down at him silently a moment before abruptly drawing away, and before Alphonse could even get a word in edgewise, he'd vanished into his bedroom leaving Alphonse to stare after him, wondering whether or not to follow.