Bad Temper: WOW! This one took for EVER! Sorry about the rediculous wait everyone! D: My daddy came to visit so I was spending the week with him and I just started my new job. i.e. a lot of stuff has been going on and I haven't had time to write until now. Technically, I still don't. But I love my readers so Imma try anyway! This chapter gave me hell too. So I REALLY hope you enjoy it! R&R pretty please!
Chapter 11
"Colonel, are you ready to – "
"Shhh." Mustang hushed Riza as she came through the door to his office. When he was met with a brief look of confusion, he pointed over to the couch where Edward was still sprawled out, snoring lightly. He had been there for about an hour now, catching up on his sleep. "Give him another thirty minutes, Hawkeye. The boy's had a rough night."
Riza nodded although she was still slightly perplexed by Mustang's allowing of such insubordination. She knew the colonel always had a soft spot for the boy, so she simply owned it to that fact. Besides, it wasn't like Colonel Mustang wasn't guilty of that sort of thing himself.
Walking over to her boss' desk, she whispered quietly, "The brigadier is getting ancy. He is eager to see to it that Mister Fullmetal fixes the damages."
Mustang nodded. "Then he'll have to wait. An alchemist shouldn't perform any high-grade alchemy without proper rest – and nourishment for that matter. Hawkeye, would you please run to the mess hall before they close and grab him a bite to eat for when he wakes up?"
Riza looked over her shoulder at the young man slouched across the couch with what could only be Mustang's jacket (Seeing as how Mustang wasn't wearing his) draped over him. She looked back at her boss. "Of course sir. Any preferences?"
"Something quick and easy I suppose. A sandwich."
"Yes sir."
Mustang's Second Lieutenant turned quick on her heel and was gone from the office in a second. The door clicked shut behind her creating a noise loud enough, apparently, to cause the dozing alchemist to fidget on the couch. Mustang looked over at him. He seemed to be mumbling something in his sleep and Mustang found him self straining to hear.
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Oblivion was always the first word that came to his mind when he came here. He stood in between the gates, surrounded by an endless, stark-whit, oblivion.
Just six inches in front of him was the hard, dark, cold surface of the oversized gate. He tilted his head back trying to gather its foreboding expanse into his vision.
"Brother?"
Edward whirled around at the sound of Al's meek voice. There he was, sitting mere inches from the other gate, twisting his head and shoulders to look at him.
"Al?" Edward's voice sounded just as meek as his brother's. It was hard to believe. But he knew it was true. His brother's body sat idly at the gate, waiting for him, feeding from him, estranged from him year after year. His body was so malnourished that Edward could count every one of his vertebrae, his skin stuck to every bone and his pelvic bones jutted out from his hip joints so harshly that it looked as if they could break through the pallid skin at the slightest movement.
After becoming so accustomed to having his brother speak to him through a large, solid suit of armor, it was hard to believe that this frail thing, sitting at the gate was indeed his brother… well part of him at least.
The sight tore at Ed's heart. How could he let this happen? How could he have abandoned his brother at the gate, let him starve, almost forget what he really looked like? Al wasn't a big scary suit of armor. He was this. He had done this to his own brother.
Edward's mouth pulled back at the corners, bearing his chattering teeth. He struggled to keep his eyes open but he could barely see his little brother through the shimmering tears.
"Can I come home now, Brother?"
"Al…" Ed's voice cracked and his tears streamed down his face. He ran from his gate to Al's and dropped heavily to his knees, making a clanking sound when his automail knee struck the marble-like floor of the oblivion. "Alphonse! I'm so sorry! I'm sorry!" He sniffled and hiccupped and stared at the floor letting his tears fall freely and plop into small puddles. He was ashamed of his current blithering state and he was ashamed of what he had reduced his brother to. Between the two, he didn't have the courage to look him in the eyes.
"It's okay, Brother."
"No it's not!" Ed all but screeched, punching the floor with his automail fist. "I'm the one who did this to you and I'm the one who's going to fix it."
"I know."
"I WILL fix this, Al! I haven't forgotten about you! Every time I close my eyes I can see you. I'll bring you home to your soul. And I'll do it SOON! Really soon!"
"I know."
Edward fell quiet save for his sniffling. He sat back on his bottom and dried his face with the back of his arm. Finally he turned his eyes up to his brother. What he saw was surprising. Al looked genuinely happy. His pale lips were drawn back into a warm smile and his eyes squinted slightly, causing the ashen skin to wrinkle a bit at their corners. Could a body with no soul be happy? Although the boy looked nearly dead, physically, his eyes seemed to gleam with hope and absolute trust.
"Al…"
"I trust you, brother."
"But… How! How can you trust me after what I've done to you?"
His brother just kept smiling, cocking his head slightly. "Because you're true."
Edward just sat still and stared at his brother in silence for a minute. True? That seamed like an odd thing to say. But Ed never doubted his brother – body or soul. The two of them sat in silence for a while after that, simply enjoying each other's company. And then Ed took in a cool deep breath, knowing that his time in this REM universe would be drawing to an end shortly.
"Alphonse," he began, putting his hands on his little brother's frail shoulders. "We're getting close. We have Doctor Marco helping us now. He's a great guy and he's made leaps and bounds in his research for the Philosopher's Stone. (You'll know him once you get back home.) And once every two weeks, me and Al – I mean – your soul – I mean – your counter part…" Al giggled softly. "Anyway," Ed shook his head, "we go to help him for a couple days at a time. We're coming very close to the answer. VERY close! We make progress every time we visit. And Marco seems very confidant. I don't know how to bring you home yet, Al. But I PROMISE! I promise that I will be back soon with the knowledge and the means to bring you back. You have my undying word!"
"I'll be here." Al replied with a smile and the slightest hint of sarcasm.
"Al." Ed felt his heart melt at Al's faint attempt at humor. Was a body without a soul really capable of having a sense of humor too?
"I can tell it will be soon. I can feel it. I have faith in you, Ed."
"Al." Ed said again, feeling the tears returning but not bothering to fight them. "I love you." He could feel his hold on this realm slipping, fading. It slowly shifted and began to disperse to the consistency of something akin to smoke.
"Edward…" came a deeper and less frail voice.
The smoke burned his eyes and filled his lungs, making him choke. But despite his difficulty breathing he called for his brother. Every time he left one of these dreams he felt this unrelenting sense of dread. He always feared that he would never get back to this place. That he would never succeed in saving his little brother, that he would never see him again. He screamed Al's name despite the burning sensation of the smoke that made his throat tighten and made his eyes water.
"ALLL!"
"Edward!" The voice came again, sterner this time.
Ed knew that voice. He paused in his frantic shouting to listen for it again, blinking away his tears in an attempt to see.
"Edward!"
He turned in search of the source for the voice.
"Edward! Wake up!"
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Edward shot up from where he was laying on the couch, making a raspy gasping sound as he sucked in air. His colonel had to lean back abruptly to dodge the young man's sudden movement. He sat stiff, clutching the jacket in his lap, and gasping for air. There was a thin film of sweat chilling his skin and his cheeks were dampened with the recent tears.
The colonel was still kneeled next to him, one hand on his knee and the other pressed firmly on Edward's back offering the fraught teen a sense of support.
"Edward?"
There was that voice again. He turned his head slowly to find himself face to face with his boss. The deep onyx eyes that stared back at him seemed to express a deep concern. He quickly averted his own eyes, once again ashamed of his current state.
Edward knew that what he had just experienced was only a dream. He had grown accustomed to them and he had grown to take them all very seriously, as if they were real. As far as he was concerned they were. The only problem being that having such lucid dreams often lead to outward enactments of his emotions and actions that occurred within them. Al had often narrated his side of his dreams word for word and told him that he had been talking in his sleep.
Great, Edward thought, I had to go and fall asleep in the damn Colonel's office of all places. This is gunna bite.
He was mortified. Why did this have to happen in front of the one man who's opinion mattered most (second only to his brother). What was he gunna think of him now? No doubt he'd have some kind of irritating, condescending comments about this later. He took a deep breath and heaved out a shaky sigh, using the back of his left hand to pad at his damp tear-swollen eyes.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm fine."
"That's a lie."
"Well what do you wanna hear? I want my mommy? Fuck you. I just had a bad dream. It happens." In his frustration Edward shrugged Mustang's hand off of his back.
Mustang simply sat in silence and watched his subordinate with alert eyes that darted around Edward's face, taking in all the classic tellers of anxiety. He understood that Edward didn't want people to view him as week or vulnerable, so he didn't pursue the subject any further. But he wondered if the kid had anyone to talk to, any way of handling it. He supposed that his little brother provided some of that but from what he knew of the brothers, it was Al who was the source of a lot of Ed's guilt and stress. That was made apparent by his behavior and by instances such as this – his dreams.
What Mustang wouldn't give to hold the blonde in his arms at night, stroke his hair, and whisper in his ear all the things he'd need to hear. How he would love to protect the restless young man from his own dreams and self inflicted guilt.
"What the hell are you staring at?"
"Not much."
"What?"
"Well it's just that you're so short that there's not much to-"
"Shuddup you bastard! I'm not short! In fact I've gotten taller! I'm even having Winry visit cus-"
"There's the Fullmetal I know." Mustang chuckled as he snatched his uniform jacket from Edward's lap and stood up, "Calm down."
The younger alchemist huffed and flopped back down onto the couch. "Jerk."
"Hawkeye will be back in a couple minutes with some food."
"Huh?"
"My bet is that you haven't eaten today. And we need you in tip-top shape if you're going to get any fixing done. The head honchos are getting impatient."
"Yea. I guess I am kinda hungry." As if to make a point, Ed's stomach rumbled unusually loudly.
A few minutes later, Riza showed up with a cold cut sandwich and a glass of orange juice. The food was gone within what seamed like seconds. Then Riza hurried the two men off to meet with the Brigadier in the lobby.
Fixing the damages was rather effortless for the talented Fullmetal and the Brigadier was quite impressed, promising to pass his good recommendations on to further higher-ups. Edward could really care less about such things. As long as he was here at Central working at his boss' side and had all the resources he needed to research the means to regain Al's body, he was quite content.
As the four of them stood about looking up at the residential dorm building that had just been returned to its normal state, Edward shoved his hands into the pockets of his sweat pants. In the left pocket were the gloves that had caused him so much lack of sleep. For some reason he had denied Mustang the return of them, lying to him and telling them that they were still in his room and not on him. Why he had done so, he wasn't sure. He simply didn't feel like giving them up. He fiddled with the rough, dry fabric in his pocket as he stood off to the side tuning out the meaningless banter that went on between the Colonel and the Brigadier.
"Well Fullmetal,"
Edward nearly jumped at the rough tenor of the old Brigadier's voice. He looked up to suddenly notice the man standing just about two feet in front of him. "Uh yea?"
"Between the terrorist and the repairs that you have been generous enough to perform today, you've done some exceptional work. All the military will have to cover is some replanting of the garden and a couple trees. Excelent work, boy."
"Boy?"
The old man patted him on the shoulder and gave him a mandatory smile before turning to Mustang, requesting a report on the improvements, saying farewell and then getting into a nearby vehicle and departing.
With the Brigadier gone, Mustang, Riza and Edward returned to the office to continue their workday.
"Second Luitenent Hawkeye, would you please draw up a report of the notes that the Brigadier has made for today?"
"Yes sir." Riza took the said notes and left Colonel Mustang's office. Leaving the two men standing alone in the room.
"So, Fullmetal. You've done some good work."
"Duh." Edward replied with a sarcastic smirk.
"Say, where has that brother of yours been today?"
"Oh he left at noon today to go pick up Winry. She's coming over to adjust my automail. I've outgrown it a little."
"Huh. Shocking."
"Don't be such an asshole, Colonel!" Edward shouted, brandishing a metal fist at his boss. He sighed. "Anyway, now that you mention it, they should be here by now. What time is it?"
"Hm." He pulled out his pocket watch. "About a quarter of three."
"Wah really! Dammit they're already here by now! If I keep them waiting any longer I'll end up with a wrench lodged in my forehead!"
"I see. Well considering what you've accomplished today, I think you've redeemed yourself well enough. I suppose I can let you go early. (Even if you did get here late and sleep on the job)."
"Kay thanks bye!" Edward yipped as he turned to dash out of the room. But he was brought up short when he felt a strong hand grab his left wrist. "What the – hey! What's the deal? You said I could go."
"Fullmetal…"
"Hm?" the colonel's muted tone spurred a slight note of concern in him.
"Your dreams."
"Aw come on, Colonel. Not this again. I'm in a hurry." Edward attempted to pull free from the man's grip, but Mustang only tightened it and he yanked him back, causing Ed to stumble into his boss.
In that instant, the young, blond prodigy was overwhelmed with the warmth of the strong, muscled chest pressed against him and the simple scent of linen mixed with the faintest trace of a metallic substance, like the kind used to make flints. Immediately his face went red-hot and his ears crimson. His heart battered madly against his sternum and his mind scattered in all directions. He almost didn't hear his boss' words through the sound of his own blood rushing through his head.
"I've heard about your nightmares. I know that you suffer when you sleep. And I know there's little I can offer you in solace. But you need to remember that your brother loves you and that you and Doctor Marco are making remarkable progress. Al will be normal soon. I know it. But until then you need to find somebody to talk to. And I want you to know that I'm here for you. Despite what you might think of me, I care about you and I'm willing drop everything if you need me."
As Colonel Mustang finished what he had to say, he patted Edward lightly on the back in a somewhat awkward attempt at comforting him.
Once he was released from the Colonel's sudden grip, Edward muttered a quick, "Um. Thanks," before dashing from the room in a flustered mess, the whole time keeping his face down so as not to let Mustang see the deep flush of his cheeks.
Though Mustang had known the blonde to be somewhat emotional in the past, he had steadily grown out of his episodes with his coming of age. So it struck him as odd to see Edward respond to his attempt at kindness in such a hushed and yet flustered way. And, all of that aside, the deep blush that he had glimpsed as Edward turned into the light of the conjoining office seemed out of place in this context. Had he upset the blonde? Or was there something else bothering him?
Bad Temper: MAJOR SPOILER FOR MY NEXT CHAPTER! The SMEXUAL part of my fic will FINALLY start in Chapter 12. So thank you everyone who has been reading patiently. I know it's taken me way too long to get to this part, so I thought I'd let you know before ya got fed up and stopped reading. ^_^ Are and are! :P
