Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Title: Adventures in Babysitting
Pairing: Hints of future RoyxEd, one-sided (?) MaesxRoy
Rating: PG13 (language)
Timeline: AU
Summary: Sixteen-year-old Roy Mustang has his work cut out for him when he takes a job babysitting the well-known and much-feared local hellions, otherwise known as the Elric brothers.
AN: Spell-checked only.
Adventures in Babysitting
Chapter 9
"Well, you see, Edward…"
Ed frowned as the sound of his father's cold, calculating voice resounded in his frazzled mind, filling him with doubt and skepticism over everything he had ever believed to be right and true. He hunkered down in the darkness and squeezed his eyes shut as if that would somehow blight the man's hateful words, regretting the fact that he didn't punch or kick him when he started saying those mean things. Normally, he would have; he was Edward Elric, after all. But Hohenheim's diatribe had so confused him right from the start that he had been too stunned to even think of assaulting him at the time. And now…
He was afraid.
It was a weird kind of fear to the boy, one that wasn't as simple as being afraid of the boogeyman that he had, until more recently than he cared to admit, fully believed resided under his bed. No, this fear was something else, something that would not go away with the dawning of light. Something deeper than that baby stuff, something… scarier. And he hated that man, that stranger, for making him feel this way.
It was bad to hate. His mom had always said so. But Ed knew in his heart that he did hate his father. He was a regular A-S-S hole for sure.
"… Asshole."
He whispered the swear into the dark and immediately covered his face with his blanket, as if his mother would have somehow been able to sense that he had said it. It was hard to tell sometimes; she seemed to know just about everything he did before he even did it. Once he was certain that he was still in the clear, Ed poked out his head and breathed a sigh of relief.
But the fear, it was still there, still inside, gnawing away at him. And it hurt.
It hurt alot.
He wasn't a bad boy. … Well, he was. But not like that. Not bad enough to go to the place where bad people went when they died. Not that he even believed such a dreadful place existed, but if it did… well, he didn't deserve to go there.
… Did he?
And Roy. Roy most certainly didn't deserve what his father had said he deserved. No way, not ever. Even if his dad had said… those things.
Those terrible, awful things.
Ed scrunched his face and shook his head violently in an attempt to undo the stinging in his eyes. He wasn't a baby, he shouldn't cry like one.
But if anything should ever happen to Roy… because of him…
"... that actually depends on you."
Ed choked back his tears, but not before a small, shuddering whimper escaped him. He used his blanket to wipe his eyes and turned onto his side, curling into a ball and trying desperately to chase away the thoughts that plagued him, hoping, with a measure of faith and optimism that only small children could ever possess, that the fear and the hurt would be gone by morning.
The cafeteria was abuzz with students taking solace from their classes by indulging in godawful food. Roy, Jean, Riza, and Sheska sat in a semi-secluded corner of the room, as far away from the masses as possible, enjoying the one time during the school day when they could all convene as a group.
"Do you guys want to do something tonight?" Sheska asked, using a spork to poke at the unidentifiable lump of… something on her tray.
"Can't. Gotta work," Jean answered, trying not to fidget. He was dying for a smoke but didn't dare risk getting caught lighting up. Again. "Boss'll have my ass if I call off one more time."
"I'm 'sitting this evening," Roy added, frowning down at the slab of bread and cheese that was supposed to pass for pizza. "But after, sure."
"How's that going, anyway?" Riza asked.
Roy shrugged and took a bite, trying to play off the smile that wanted to surface. Not that they wouldn't understand his attachment to Ed and Al, but he didn't really want to go into all of it with them just yet. "Okay," he said.
"I hear those kids are really bad," Sheska said, sneaking a French fry off Riza's tray. "Right, Jean?"
Roy glanced up at Jean and waited for him to reply, unaware until that moment just how prepared he was to lash out at anyone, friend or foe, who said something derogatory about the two boys.
"Well, I wouldn't say they're bad," Jean said, blissfully unaware that he had just saved himself from Roy's wrath. "They're just very… very… active."
Riza grinned and smacked Sheska's hand as it closed around another fry. "That's because they actively kicked your ass."
"Shut up," Jean muttered, glowering at his friends for poking fun at his misfortune. "Especially you, Roy."
Roy smirked. "Hey, I'm not saying I don't have any room to talk, but… yeah, they totally kicked your ass, man."
A fresh round of laughter made its way across the table. Jean stood up in a huff and tried to glare at all of them, but the smile on his lips gave him away.
"You know what? Fuck all of you," he said, shaking his head as he grabbed his tray. "I need a cigarette."
"We love you, Jean!" Sheska cried out between giggles.
"Kiss my ass," Jean shot back. "See you guys- oh. Hey, Maes."
Maes approached the table and greeted Jean with a punch in the arm. "Hey. Don't get caught. Again." He sat down as Jean walked away. "What's going on?"
Sheska pouted and spoke up. "I'm trying to get all of you bitches together so we can hang out tonight- ow! Dammit, Riza!- but that one has to work," she said, motioning in the direction Jean had taken off before nodding at Roy. "And this one is babysitting."
"How are you getting there if Jean's gotta work?" Maes asked, immediately losing interest in Sheska's plight.
"I'm walking over to the elementary school to meet them and catching a ride with their neighbor," Roy explained. "Jean'll pick me up tonight after he gets out of work."
"I'll take you over there if you want," Maes offered, opening a small carton of milk and sniffing it to ensure it was fit for human consumption.
Roy blinked at Maes' insistent gaze. Even though they lived together, he had always hated imposing his vehicular needs on Maes, whereas Jean was always eager to drive him anywhere.
"… Okay," he said, seeing no real reason why he should refuse.
He saw subtle movement out of the corner of his eye and turned to catch Riza's gaze shifting between him and Maes like a spectator at a tennis match, her eyes full of curiosity and insinuation. Sighing inwardly at her fangirl gawking, Roy reached out with his foot and-
"OW!" Sheska screamed, almost jumping out of her seat. "Who the hell just kicked me?!"
"Jesus Christ, Roy. There's like a million goddamn kids here."
Maes' green eyes scanned the swelling, screaming throng of just-released children. He nudged himself closer to his best friend and tried to take all of it in.
"It is an elementary school," Roy said, neglecting to mention his own horror over the sea of insanity the last time he had gone there. "Just don't move or make eye contact. They can sense fear."
"Very funny," Maes said, smiling anyway. "So how the hell can you tell where your two are?"
"If we stand here long enough, they'll find us," Roy informed him. "Trust me; it's just easier that way."
Sure enough, as the crowd started to wane, Al came running, his face full of shock and joy. Ed lurched behind him, dragging his backpack along the ground and kicking at the air with each step, looking as pissy as usual. Roy smiled warmly at the sight of him, marveling at how his reaction was a far cry from the apprehension he used to feel when faced with that adorable scowl.
"Roy!" Al held out his arms and Roy gladly picked him up and hugged him tightly. He saw Maes grinning at his open affection for the boy and discreetly flipped him off behind Al's back.
"I thought Miss Pee-nako was picking us up?" the boy asked.
Roy shook his head with mock regret. "Nope. You're stuck with me. I'm sorry."
Al giggled with delight and patted him on the head. "'Sokay." He noticed Maes standing there and leaned into Roy's ear. "Who's that?" he whispered rather loudly, the concept of discretion lost on him at such an innocent young age.
Roy and Maes exchanged an amused glance over Al's concept of secrecy. "This is my friend Maes. Maes, this is Al."
"Hello!" Al said with a chipper grin.
"Hi Al," Maes said, smiling against his will and finding himself reluctantly smitten by the lively child.
"And…" Roy began, looking for Ed to introduce him. He found him standing near the spot he had originally seen him, staring at the three of them with a strange, confused, and ultimately unhappy look on his face. His curious amber eyes seem particularly interested in Maes, which unnerved the otherwise confident teen to no end. Although he was a pro at making girls swoon, winning over little kids seemed to be a tad bit trickier.
"Come on over, Ed," Roy called out, hoping to put his hesitation to rest.
"I don't think he likes me," Maes muttered under his breath.
Roy patted him on the shoulder with what he hoped was a reassuring hand. "Don't worry-"
-pleaseGoddon'tletEdkillhim-
"-he'll like you just fine."
He was touching that guy.
Why was Roy touching that guy?
STOP TOUCHING THAT GUY!!
Ed tried to keep a straight face- his version of such being an angry, stubborn scowl- as he approached them. He planted himself next to Roy and regarded the strange, green-eyed intrusion with grim determination.
"Ed, this is Maes. He's going to take us to the house," Roy explained.
Maes tried his best to turn on the charm. "Hell-"
"Mom said I'm not s'posed to ride with strangers," Ed loudly informed them, crossing his arms and turning his head away.
"He's not a stranger, he's Roy's friend!" Al pointed out, with all a child's unassuming logic.
Ed could feel Roy's eyes on him, questioning him, trying to determine what might be going on inside of his head that had prompted such a knee-jerk reaction to his friend. Ed looked down at the ground to avoid making eye contact with him. He didn't want anyone, particularly Roy, trying to pry into the militant maze of his mind- especially since he had a hard enough time trying to figure it all out for himself.
But he hated the weight of that dark stare most of all because he actually liked it.
"Come on, Ed," Roy said with a calm, even tone so as to avoid a conflict- if at all possible. "Miss Pinako already left and I'm pretty sure you don't want to walk all the way home."
Not that he wouldn't try if he had it in mind to do so. Ed would have gladly proven him wrong by doing just that if not for the fact that Roy and this… this guy would have been left alone together. And that was something that he did not want. He couldn't make sense of it for the life of him; he hadn't had nearly the same amount of reservation when that Jean guy had been around, the same amount of…
Jealousy? Was that it?
Roy and this four-eyed jerkface… were they-?
"Ed?"
Roy's voice cut into Ed's thoughts before he could piece together the mystery. He finally turned and looked up at the teen's face and all at once felt guilty for the worry and concern he saw there. Which, naturally, only made him madder at Maes.
Stupid Maes with his stupid glasses and his stupid cowlick-
Copycat!
-and his stupid… tallness.
"Fine." Ed sighed and reluctantly prepared to follow them to Maes' stupid car, debating whether or not he should demand that Roy sit in the backseat with him and Al.
"Thank you," Roy said, smiling humbly.
"Hmph."
Roy stared at him for another lingering moment before nodding slightly in acquiescence and walking away with Al in tow. Only then did Ed's face relent, watching the two of them with a soft, serene expression.
"After you," Maes offered, extending his hand.
The serenity didn't last very long. Ed narrowed his eyes and gave Maes a defiant glare. He tightened his grip on this backpack- as opposed to other things he would rather have been doing with his hands at the moment- and walked away from him without saying a word. He would accept having to ride in this guy's F-ing car for Roy's sake but he didn't have to like it…
… or him.
The evening had progressed smoothly, with no bumps or bruises of any kind. Although he skulked around the house as per the norm, Ed was eerily well-behaved tonight, eating his dinner, taking his calcium supplements, everything, done without the complaint. And that worried Roy.
A lot.
While he and Al sat in the living room, hovering over a book while the child read it to him at a snail's painfully slow pace, Roy wondered if he should try and approach Ed when he was done. Perhaps something had happened at school that day, something to cause such a strange, almost unbearable silence in the boy. Roy could only imagine the hell that the poor kid had to endure on a daily basis because of his stature and his automail… and he secretly wished that he could be eight again, just long enough to kick a few snot-nosed asses and put a stop to Ed's torment once and for all.
He could hear him stomping about upstairs in his room, not out of anger but as a result of the natural weight and stride of the metal attached to his thigh and he realized for the first time just how strong the kid must have been having to permanently lug that stuff around. He found his mind wandering to a time when- if?- Ed would grow, and tried to picture an older and perhaps less brattier teenager wearing the automail. He sincerely hoped that Ed would have an easier go in high school; true, some kids would always be assholes, but with any luck, the teasing would be gone, passed over for more important things… or new targets.
"Good job, Al," he said, ruffling the child's hair as praise. "You're a really smart boy," he added. It sounded kind of corny, he supposed, but upon seeing the way Al beamed joyously, he didn't mind it at all.
It was yet another reason their worthless shit of a 'father' deserved a good ass-beating.
"Thanks, Roy," Al replied with a measure of gratitude that touched Roy's heart. Deep down, he was fully aware that he was, in some way, becoming the father figure to Al that Hohenheim would never be. And although the thought of such a responsibility might have terrified any other sixteen-year-old, Roy found that he didn't mind one bit. Maybe it was because of his own parentless upbringing; he didn't know and, quite frankly, he didn't really care. It was what it was.
But as for the other one…
Ed frowned at the battalion of Transformers spread out across the top of his bed, his sharp eyes scanning the masses for the elusive Bumblebee. Elusive, because it was the one that Al coveted- and "borrowed"- most of all.
Not that he cared. Well, he did because they were his toys. But it wasn't as if he forbade Al to touch any of them… except for Optimus. Optimus was off-limits to everyone. Well, he had been, until…
Ed let out a gust of breath and walked over to his closet, pretending to search for his missing Transformer, pretending to actually give a damn whether or not Al had it, and pretending not to care that Roy was downstairs with him right now. Because he didn't care.
He didn't care one bit.
Nope.
Not at all.
Because if he cared, then that would mean… that would mean that his father was right and he really was a-
It's not normal, Edward. And you want to be normal, don't you, son?
Ed raised both of his hands to his face and stared at them. The fears that had terrorized him the night before were still there, still lurking, waiting to resurface once again. But right now, another want, another need dominated his thoughts, one he knew very, very well.
Yes. He wanted to be normal. More than anything. To be free from the torment and the laughter and the pointing fingers and the shame and the revulsion and the almost unbearable damnation of it all. Perhaps he couldn't do anything about his automail. But if there was a way he could stop feeling the way that he felt about him… then maybe…
He didn't want anything bad to happen to Roy. But he also didn't want to not want anything bad to happen to him. He didn't want to think about him and he didn't want to be so gee dee… so goddamn happy to see him.
Ed let his hands drop to his sides, ever so mindful of the difference in the weight between them, exhausted from trying to make heads or tails of all of it. He didn't want to think about it anymore- there would be plenty of time for that later, in bed, when his thoughts would consist of nothing but.
But for now, he decided a little distraction was in order.
"AL!!"
Roy and Al looked up at the ceiling, each of them with a cannoli hanging out of their mouths as they had been racing to see who could suck out the filling the fastest. Terror dawned on Al's face and Roy found himself annoyed at the culprit for inspiring such a reaction in the boy… although he was also somewhat curious to see what on earth Al could have possibly done to cause Ed to yell out for him in such a way, considering how inseparable they were. The thundering footfalls of a ticked-off eight-year-old sounded across the ceiling; he was definitely stomping his feet now.
He stomped his way down the stairs and over to the two of them, glaring at the pastries in their mouths.
"You ate 'em all?"
"No," Roy said, casually picking up the box beside him and showing him the ones that remained... and deciding not to inform him what the filling actually consisted of.
"… oh." He briefly met Roy's eyes before turning away and the teen could have sworn he saw… something…
"Where's Bumblebee, Al?" Ed demanded, folding his arms.
Al removed the cannoli from his mouth and wiped his lips with the back of his hand. "H-He's in my room."
"Stop taking my stuff outta my room!"
"I'm sorry."
Roy was impressed. Unlike a lot of kids his age- or even Roy's age, for that matter- Al didn't hem and haw, looking for a suitable excuse to justify his actions. He quickly assumed responsibility for what he did and apologized… most likely until it happened again.
Ed opened his mouth and then closed it with a snap, as if he hadn't expected his brother to cave so soon. "W-Well… just… keep your stupid hands off him next time."
"My hands aren't stupid!" Al said, genuinely offended.
"Must be, if you keep stealing my Bumblebee," Ed pointed out.
"But you don't even like him!" Al said, quite possibly on the verge of tears.
And with that, Roy decided it was about time to step in. "Alright-"
"Doesn't matter," Ed said stubbornly. "He's mine. I can flush 'im down the toilet if I want. Stupid Hands."
"That's enough."
He hadn't meant for it to go this far.
And it wouldn't have, if Al would have just let him call his stupid hands stupid and be done with it. But no, he had to argue back. Ed hated when Al argued back. Because more than being right or wrong, Ed wanted the last word most of all. Even though he always apologized in the end for being such a brat, at least he had that small consolation to soothe him.
Roy stood up and frowned down at the both of them and Ed briefly considered pulling out the old "But he started it" card. It was futile, of course, given how Ed had practically brought down the house yelling at Al in the first place. Come to think of it, that excuse never worked for Ed; perhaps it was about time he gave up trying.
"There's no reason the two of you need to fight about it," Roy said.
Ed figured it was worth one last try. "But he-"
"No, Ed. We're done talking about it."
We are? Ed despised being cut off. And, being Ed, he refused to let it go. Not even for Roy.
"They're my ffffffffffff… fucking Transformers!" He stamped his automail foot on the floor for emphasis and waited for the fallout from the F-bomb.
But instead of the screams and wails of offended ears, he was met with silence. Although he took some small measure of satisfaction in the way Al's eyes nearly bulged to the point of falling out, it wasn't what he had been hoping for.
Roy heaved a sigh and stared at him for what felt like a very long time.
"Fine," he finally said, speaking slowly and quietly. "Since they mean so much to you that you're willing to yell and swear, I'll make sure to bring Optimus back to you tomorrow. I wouldn't want my 'stupid hands' all over something that means so much to you that it causes you to act this way."
That's not what I want…
"Come on, Al." Roy held out his hand and waited for Al to take it.
Stop…
Ed watched the two of them walking toward the kitchen, hand in hand, away from him, and felt the last of his grasp on self-control slipping away. All of his fear and anger and worry and doubt and self-loathing finally culminated in the worst possible way as he opened his mouth and let loose the one word he had been too terrified to say since his father had issued his subtle accusation, screaming it at the top of his lungs with all the might his tiny body could muster.
The real F-bomb. The one that was right up there with the N-word and all of those other horrible, awful words that only the worst kinds of people used.
People like him, apparently.
Then, having done that, Edward Elric began to cry. And cry. And cry. Months, perhaps even years worth of tears barreling down on him, all at once. He turned around and ran out of the room and up the stairs, tripping over his own feet and falling down before pulling himself up and stumbling into his room, ignoring the terrified screams of his brother and collapsing onto the floor where his own bawling soon drowned them out and wishing that he didn't have to hear them or anything else ever again.
Roy stared blindly at the kitchen door, paralyzed by the piercing scream of a word that he never expected to hear from the mouth of a little boy he never expected to care about, overwhelmed by a hurt he never expected to feel.
Somewhere upstairs, all hell was breaking loose. And still, Roy couldn't move.
He simply... couldn't.
Hohenheim stood with Pinako in the front yard of her house, smoking a pipe and listening to the faint howling sound of distraught children.
His children.
So far she hadn't heard it. It figured- she was an old lady whose hearing was not what it had once been. That, and she was too busy enjoying the fine tobacco that he had presented to her as a gift. The woman thought he was shit; he had no illusions to the contrary. But she had never been one to turn down the chance to smoke a pipe with him, even if she reamed him a new one while doing so, as she had just done.
He knew that he wasn't a complete monster. Indeed, he felt remarkably guilty for the pain he surely must have caused Edward. However, it was a necessary pain, one that needed to be administered to steer the child towards the correct path. Faggots were an abomination, plain and simple. There was no grey area to be found, no maybes or perhaps' or possiblys' or what-ifs. While he bore Roy no true ill will, he would stop at nothing on earth to protect his sons. Nothing at all.
Hohenheim had learned a great many thing about this young Roy Mustang over the past hour from Pinako, things that both disgusted and intrigued him. Truly, it seemed as if his wife could not possibly have picked a worse caretaker for their children. And so, if this particular turn of events did not sway Edward to release his deviant idealizations, Hohenheim had… a very special backup plan. It was a bit of a last resort, but he was in no way above lowering himself for the sake of his children. Not at all.
Fire.
Sometimes, fires happened.
It would be a shame if…
He closed his eyes and puffed away on his pipe, praying that it would not come to that… but fully prepared to act if it did.
Without hesitation.
TBC
AN: This was not pleasant to write and I know it's not the happiest thing to read. I'm sorry. The good news is that this is probably the worst chapter I had planned for this story, so hopefully, things will be looking up (somewhat) from here on out. And here, I never intended for the plot to get so depressingly deep! Buuuut, never fear. I'll have you guys laughing again before you know it.
I very rarely, if ever, use the AN to make what amounts to a PSA but I just wanted to take a moment to say that the experience I've written here for Ed is very close to home for me. I grew up in an uber Christian household and between the ages of about 8-18, I agonized over the exact same things Ed is trying to sort out right now- dealing with same-sex crushes (which is scary enough when you're continually informed how disgusting and wrong it is) and having a spiritual crisis of faith on top of that. "Yay!" I truly wouldn't wish that kind of emotional torture on anyone. Ever. Going to bed every night of your life and wondering if you are going to die and go to hell before you wake up is something that no child should ever have to go through. I would like to think that most of you already know that, or else why are you into yaoi? But aside from knowing it, pass it on. Despite all of the progress we've made, queer kids are still more likely to suffer from depression and commit suicide. And THAT is the true sin.
Next time: Mama Bear comes home. Oh, Hoho... methinks you might be in big trouble.
See you next chapter.
xoxo
