Ed awoke to a different scene than he was used to. Not his usual nightmares, not the sunlight streaming through the open window.. it was dark. He sat up in bed and stretched his limbs out. Scratching his head, he looked to the window he usually left open every night, and found that it was closed.
"What the.." he got up to investigate, ignoring the unpleasant feel of the cold floor on his bare feet. He paused in front of the window, staring out with his mouth gaping.
"Brother! Snow! It snowed last night!" His brother's cheerful voice rang through the hallway, and if not for the metallic clank of his hurried footsteps, would have been the only warning before Alphonse threw open the door and leaned into Ed's room.
"I noticed." he said, unable to take his eyes off the snow that coated what felt like the entire world outside the house.
"Winry closed your window for you when it started coming down." Alphonse went on. Oh. There it is. Alphonse turned to leave, bouncing excitedly. "Come on! Get ready! We have to play in it!"
"Hm?" Edward mumbled drowsily as he dressed himself.
"Play. In. It." Alphonse enunciated, gesturing toward the window. Ed pulled on his shoes, stood up, and yawned into the sleeve of his red coat before slipping past Al and entering the hallway.
"I thought it was interrogation day?" he murmured. He didn't know why he was suddenly so adamant on following procedure- he wanted to go outside and throw snow around with his brother like when they were little. The Cats weren't even that interesting.
"Couldn't we question them later?" Alphonse whined behind him, keeping pace as they passed the room where the three were being held, probably still asleep. "They're not going anywhere."
He was right about that much, and in that case, Ed was almost sure he could convince Olivier of it. He just needed to make sure he asked before she strapped that sword to her waist.
Ed sat in a chair across from the Cats, a towel wrapped around his entire body. After two hours spent in a snow war with Alphonse- one that his brother had won only because he could load up his armor with reserve snow for emergency snowballs- he'd come in shaking cold, and the towel had been forced upon him almost immediately. He'd have argued more over it if Winry hadn't pulled that "I'm-worried-about-you" guilt trip of hers. He pulled the towel tighter around himself, stuffing his face into it in an attempt to bring some feeling back into his cheeks. It wasn't even him she really needed to worry about. Al was the one who might rust.
Ed blinked, still feeling like ice had formed in his eyelashes, and looked up at the three, whose expressions didn't appear to have changed in the slightest. The White Cat smiled pleasantly at him, eyes wide and shining like a childs. His relentless friendliness was becoming less a question of his normality, and more a question of his sanity. The Gray Cat had cold eyes focused on Ed's face, an indifferent visage that gave him the feeling that he could attack at anytime he chose, and stayed tied up strictly by his own choice. Ed found himself getting up and checking that his ropes were safely intact before he could stop himself, and as he sat back down, he watched the outline of an amused smile fade off the Gray Cats lips. The Black Cat, as always, remained silent and distracted, his attention lying anywhere he could possibly place it but on Ed. At the moment, his eyes were measuring up a wall he'd measured up a hundred times before, like he was seeking out a crack that he could disappear through.
They obviously had no intention of making themselves useful, and that meant they were just wasting time and space. Ed scowled, the sensation of pins and needles pricking at the inside of his face as feeling began to come back only frustrating him further. He sighed wearily.
"You have to ask for an attorney in order to get one." He said. The three said nothing. "Do you not want to invoke your right to an attorney?" Again, they said nothing. Ed felt his nostrils flaring as he struggled to stay calm.
"Will you relinquish your right to an attorney?" He glanced over the assassins. Even Raenef had his mouth firmly shut this time. He narrowed his eyes and let himself slide down into his chair. This was going nowhere. Maybe they should have let Olivier pursue her own methods.
There came a light knock at the door now, and, with the assassins giving no hint of letting up, Ed answered.
"Come on."
Winry opened the door slowly, struggling not to drop the plate full of food that she was balancing on one arm, her hand wrapped firmly around a glass of milk. Despite her best efforts to keep it still, the milk trembled noticeably in the glass, and Ed thought for a moment she might drop everything. Thankfully, after opening the door, her navigation into the room was easy enough, and she had no problem getting the food safely to the table at the center of the room. She set it down, and, looking relieved, glanced up at the assassins. She looked them over quietly, and the three gave her all their attention. She blinked.
"Hello again." She said with a friendly little wave as she straightened up.
"Hi!" Raenef responded cheerily. Ed turned to look at him, and he clamped his mouth shut again, shaking his head slowly. Edward sighed and looked back over at Winry.
"Thanks."
She smiled again, and turned for the door.
"Oh, and make sure you drink the milk this time. If you pour it out the window again, I swear I'll force it down your throat while you sleep tonight."
Ed felt his eyes widen with the knowledge that she would definitely do that. He glanced over at the glass and stuck out his tongue, making a vomiting noise.
"It's cow juice. Who looked at that stuff and thought 'I bet that'd taste really good'?" he growled, and when he looked up at Winry, he was surprised to find her smiling, a reminiscent sort of look in her eyes. He blinked. "You okay?"
Winry reanimated with his query, shaking her head. She laughed easily.
"Yeah, I'm fine. And I'm serious about the milk. Cow juice though it may be, if you don't drink it, you'll be short forever."
"I'm not-"
"Eat your lunch, Ed." She interrupted, already in the doorway. She shut the door with firm finality. Ed would need to find a more discreet method of disposing of the milk.
Once Winry had left, Ed picked up the plate and took his seat across from the Cats again, eating quietly and avoiding any sort of eye contact. The stew Winry had brought for him was delicious; she must have learned from her grandmother. Briefly, Ed felt a flash of his own kind of remembrance, and found himself surprised by the thought that he missed the nagging old Pinako. He stared down at the bowl in his lap, smiling lightly.
He wasn't entirely sure how long he'd been staring at the stew, but it must have looked pretty odd, because Raenef and Creed were both staring at him when he finally got done with his nostalgia, looking very concerned. The Black Cat still refused to look at him, though it occurred to Ed that, for once, his eyes were fixed on a single point in the room. Following the assassin's eyes, it became evident that he was staring at the glass of milk, almost longingly. He blinked, looking back at the assassin.
You've got to be kidding me.
"What?" he asked, and Train glanced over at him for a second, as if the sudden noise had made him momentarily forget his no eye contact policy. He looked away as quickly as he could, taking his eyes off the milk again.
"What?" Ed repeated, leaning closer to him. He paused for a second to see if the Black Cat would respond, already knowing full well that he wouldn't. "You want it? I hate milk. You can have it if you don't tell Winry it wasn't me who drank it."
Train wasn't acknowledging him anymore, and he seemed to radiate unfriendliness, as if to compensate for his moment of weakness. Ed ignored it and stood up, leaving his towel in the chair. This was his chance, and he might not have another for a while. He picked up the glass and took the few steps to stand in front of the assassin. He held it out to him as if he would actually be able to move his hands to take it anyway.
"Here. Take it. Just.." he blinked again and looked around. Setting the glass down on the arm of the Black Cat's chair, he wound around behind the assassin, and stared nervously at his tied hands. If he just untied his hands, only for a second.. That would be okay. Just his hands. Just him. He would keep a gun on him if necessary. Having reassured himself for a moment, he quickly undid the knot tying Train's hands and took a wary step back, in case he decided to try anything. The only real change that occurred was that now the other two were staring at Train, a silent question as to what he intended to do now. Ed wondered too, but if he was going to do anything, it obviously wouldn't happen anytime soon. He even seemed to be holding more still now.
Ed sighed and scratched at the back of his head. What were they interrogating these three for? They wouldn't interact with them. Nothing more than Raenef's little outbursts and Creed's moments of condescending backtalk. They weren't getting anywhere.
He paced back around the chairs where the three were tied up and strode over to the window, staring out at the snow. Earlier in the morning, it had been a perfect blanket. Now it was littered with craters from which supplies for snowballs were taken, footprints, the remnants of tattered snow forts. Even the occasional full-body skid mark. Ed smiled. Al took his snowball fights very seriously.
He rubbed at his eyes and pushed a few strands of stray hair out of his face before turning and heading back to his chair. It wouldn't matter if the Black Cat's hands were tied or not. He wouldn't do anything with witnesses around. That much was clear. Sinking down into the chair that might have been comfortable, were it not so stiff, Ed looked up at the three, exhausted already. It would be a long day. Raenef and Creed were staring at him now, both looking very amused, and neither averted their eyes when he made eye contact with them. He didn't have time to wonder what the hell they had done before his eyes caught the gleam of the glass, having moved only slightly from its original place on the arm of the chair, but enough to place it directly in the path of the light overhead. It was empty.
Ed looked up at the Black Cat, startled, and watched him lick his lips before returning his attention to the wall on his right.
