Chapter 13
Alphonse kept such a close eye on his brother over that weekend that when Monday came, Edward couldn't put his uniform on and get out of the door fast enough, leaving with only a call behind him to a half asleep Alphonse about how he was going to work. It was a bleak Monday, the clouds covered with clouds that threatened the ground below but for the moment they didn't unleash their fury. A storm was coming; Ed could feel it in the ache of the automail. The flesh around the ports always ached when the weather was shit, but now the pain was kind of nice. It was an ache that he had grown up with, that he'd lived with for a good chunk of his life, and it was nice in a sense that that same pain was still there, niggling away at him enough that he was able to forget all the other injuries for a moment. He was normal for a while; as normal as he'd ever been that was.
The uniform covered most of his injuries thankfully, the collar was enough to even hide most of the bruising around his neck. Some of it was still on show, but not enough that he felt too self conscious about it. The tore and bruising skin around his flesh wrist was enough to make him tug on the sleeve in an attempt to hid it though. That particular injury was too much for him to look at, and he didn't want anyone asking about it or how he had gotten it. He had managed to sleep a little the night before, but had woken in a cold sweat at about four in the morning from nightmares; memories of what they had done to their mother, the creature that they brought back; memories of watching Simon die as he bled out in his arms. He hadn't bothered trying to back to sleep then, instead he had wandered through to make himself a coffee – forgetting that Winry was staying and sleeping on the couch. Except she wasn't asleep. Instead she was at the kitchen table, working on some automail that when he asked, she told him was for a customer in rush valley.
They had sat together in peaceful silence for a while, each sipping on their coffees, until Winry then spoke up, demanding to see Ed's automail. He let her, mostly because it had been a while since she had looked it over and done any maintenance on it. It was nice to have her working on it, even if she didn't nag at him for any of the scratches; Edward assumed that she was scared to kick off about them in case he had gotten them during his brief stint of slavery. If he was honest, Edward wasn't even sure where he got half of them, but it was nice regardless, just being with her. She spoke to him of her work and he smiled and listened to her. She was so damn passionate about anything that she could tinker with, and she was beautiful in it.
Central command loomed in front of him, pulling him from his thoughts as he flashed his pocket watch at the guards. The two soldiers barely looked at him before waving him through, and Edward just shoved his watch back into his pocket as he headed into the building. It didn't take him long to get to Mustang's office, but when he got there he hesitated outside. It had been a month since he had really seen any of these guys, and suddenly Edward found himself concerned about what they might know about what happened. Mustang had told him that he wouldn't tell them anything, but would Havoc or Hawkeye? How much did they even know themselves? He didn't want their pity. He wanted to just walk back into that office, the same old, loud-mouthed brat that he had always been. With a deep breath, Edward pushed the door open.
Roy had arrived at work early, much to Hawkeye's annoyance if her glare was anything to go by. He had been told to rest after all, but he was restless sitting around at home and he needed to do something. He needed to make sure that the man that had taken and sold Edward to that monster was locked away for the rest of his days. Thoughts of Edward had haunted him all night long. He didn't want to think about what the younger alchemist had suffered, but his mind was more than happy to torture him at any given chance. Normally that torture was reliving Ishbal. Fire and sand was normally what choked him in his dreams, but last night it was the same old torture he was used to with a dose of memories of Ed's screams as he was shocked. Eventually he had given up on trying to sleep. He had paperwork to go through at home anyway so that gave him a head start.
The coffee cup on his desk was regretfully empty; his vision was blurring over and over the same paragraph in the dull-as-dish-water report that he was reading so he knew that he needed a lot more coffee to get through it without succumbing to the urge to use it as kindling for the fireplace opposite his desk. The sound of his chair being pushed back was loud in the empty inner office as he moved to the door to lead him out to where the rest of his men were. He was pouring more coffee into his mug from the freshly brewed pot when the door burst open, and he very almost dropped the damn thing as he spun around, fingers poised to snap at whatever threat had burst through. Hawkeye was on her feet, her gun drawn and aimed at the door in the same moment.
It took a moment for his brain to catch up with the fact that they young blonde male that he was looking at it in the doorway was Edward. The relief in the room was an audible sigh, and Roy turned his back to the blonde for a moment while he let his racing heart settle. He heard Breda, Fuery and Falman all launch into questions and greetings for Edward, heard the smile in his voice as Edward replied to them. His own adrenaline was easing off, and slowly anger was slipping in. What the hell was Ed even doing here today? After everything he had suffered through for the last month, he should be at home; resting and spending time with his brother.
"So what you needing me to do, Mustang?" Edward was saying, tugging Roy from his thoughts. He slipped the professional masks on before turning to face his youngest subordinate.
"I need you to go home, Edward. I'm putting you on leave for a while to recover from everything that happened." Roy said coldly, flashing a meaningful look at Hawkeye to get her to give him the appropriate paperwork to fill in to make sure that Edward was paid for personal time off. He ignored Ed's spluttering as he moved back into his inner office. He'd just sat back down into his seat when Edward followed him, slamming the door shut hard enough that the picture he had on the wall wobbled. Roy kept his eyes on the report in front of him, pretending to read it but even if Edward's slightly uneven stomping feet weren't heading his way Roy doubted that he would have been reading the damn thing either way.
"What the fuck do you mean 'you're putting me on leave'?" Edward snapped, using his best Roy Mustang impression to quote his own words back at him. Roy still didn't look up though. He just sipped his coffee before he put it down and flicked to the next report.
"Putting you on leave means that you are no longer on active duty and I want you to go home and..."
A steel fist slammed down on the desk, stopping him in his sentence as he looked up at the angry glare on Edward's face.
"Don't fucking patronise me, Mustang. I know what fucking leave is. Why the hell are you putting me on it?" The blonde shouted, eloquent as always.
Roy shot the young blonde a bored look, which seemed to only irritate him more. Sighing, Roy dropped his gaze back to the report in front of him. Edward could be so brilliant one moment and then such a fool the moment after, and it was really exhausting to keep up with at times. How was he meant to get Ed to actually accept that he maybe wasn't fit for work just now? There was no talking him into any kind of rest. Roy didn't have long to look at the report; or to think of a way to talk some sense into Edward. An automail hand swept the report away, knocking it – along with another stack of paperwork and the lamp – onto the floor.
"For once in your goddamn life Mustang, give me a fucking straight answer!"
"You're not fit for work. Is that straight forward enough for you?" Mustang snapped, louder than he had intended as he slammed his palms down onto the table and stood so that he could loom over the seething male. The height difference wasn't too extreme, but Roy was still – and probably would always be – taller than Edward, and while that would subdue a lot of people, Edward was forever defiant, and he was so full of fire that something as simple as being shorter than someone wasn't going to put that fire out.
"That's bullshit, Mustang, and you know it. I could still kick your ass and write a report about it for you at the same time."
"I find that hard to believe. You can barely write a report, Fullmetal." Roy growled. This was getting out of hand. He needed Edward at home, resting. He didn't need nor want Ed to be standing in his office having a shouting match with him. "That is also besides the point. You are not fit to be on active duty and you need to go home and rest."
"I have rested all weekend! Al barely let me out of his damn sight. If he could have pissed for me I'm pretty sure that he would of. I'm fine! I'm not even that injured and I've had enough rest to last me a lifetime! You can't just dismiss me, you bastard!" Edward shouted, and Roy loved how he looked like this; wild and fierce and powerful. He was a vision when he was fighting like this, and Roy would have relented and let him have his own way, if it wasn't for the bruises on his neck and the cut around his wrist. His injuries had a sobering effect on Roy, and he hated himself for his next move, but he didn't know how else to get Edward to listen.
Roy moved around his desk, moving to get up in Edward's personal space and grabbed his flesh wrist – possibly harder than he had wanted to, judging by Ed's wince. He lifted the arm, pulling the sleeve up to Edward's elbow to expose the jagged cut. He forced himself to ignore the guarded look in Edward's eyes.
"This is just one of your injuries Edward!"
"Its just a fucking cut. It's hardly g..."
"Shut up!" Roy shouted, interrupting Ed's protest and successfully getting his full attention. "Yes. It is just a cut, but you froze the moment I pointed it out. You've had a head injury also, so I have a good reason to believe that you may be recovering from a concussion, along with various other injuries, malnutrition and the emotional affects of what you have been through. Go home, Edward."
Edward stayed silent for a long moment, and when Roy released his arm he instantly covered the cut on his wrist with a look of – was that shame? Roy frowned, glancing down at the offending arm. Why would Edward be ashamed of a cut to his wrist, especially when the cut to his head – which was on show to everyone – did nothing to alter his confidence. Edward stepped back, shielding his wrist when he noticed Roy looking at it, and that only made him more curious about it.
"Well excuse me for not wanting to flaunt the cut caused by rope tied around my wrist while I was raped, Mustang." Edward snarled icily, flinching and pulling his gaze away when he spoke of the cause of the cut, and suddenly Roy wanted to take it all back. He wanted to rewind time and never have touched Edward's arm, let alone so brutally shove the aftermath of his abuse down his throat like that. "But at the end of the day, its a fucking cut. It's hardly going to stop me doing my job."
"Edward..."
"No." Ed muttered, refusing to look at Roy now as he tugged on his sleeve a little more, and Roy could taste his own guilt and shame. It tasted like bile and acid. "Go fuck yourself, Mustang."
Roy watched as Edward moved to the door, opening it without another word and slipping out of the room. The slam of the door never came as Edward left the door hanging open and Roy followed him out, ignoring the glances from the team. They would have heard most of what was said, and he hoped that they hadn't heard anything about Edward's injuries. They didn't know what had happened and Roy didn't want them to have to find out like that; by hearing their commanding officer tactlessly point them out to the victim of the abuse.
"Fullmetal, at least let Havoc or Hawkeye drive you home." Roy said, glad when Hawkeye moved to stand and get the keys to the military car that she had picked him up in that morning. Edward ignored them though, kept his head down and headed to the door. Something frail in Roy's chest wanted to curl up and die right there and then. He needed to make sure that Ed got home safe. "Edward.."
Ah, there was the slam of a door. Roy closed his eyes, inhaling a deep breath as he ran his hand through his hair. That had gone so badly. He knew that Edward was difficult at times, but nothing could have prepared him for that. Letting the breath out in a sigh, Roy turned to his men, all of whom where watching him with a range of expressions on their faces; although they were all of a similar idea. They were pissed at him, no doubt fully understanding that the change in Edward was completely his doing. He couldn't even be annoyed with them. They were right after all. He had royally messed that up.
Roy had tried to focus on his work for the rest of the day, but he caught his attention wandering to the phone more than once. He had no idea what Ed would have told Alphonse, and Roy had no doubts that the younger brother would be just as fiercely protective of his brother. It was that thought that stopped Roy from phoning the Elrics in an attempt to apologise to Edward. It was cowardly, yes, but he didn't want to have to face Alphonse's wrath, and so he tried in vain to focus on the paperwork, knowing that if he didn't make some progress with it that he would have to take it home and work on it tonight and he really didn't want to do that. He also knew that Hawkeye would be breathing down his neck if he didn't concentrate and he also didn't want to have to face her wrath.
The outer office was empty and night had fallen by the time that Roy had decided to call it a day. He had gotten most of what he needed done completed, he would just come in earlier tomorrow to catch up. All he wanted to do just then though was to go home and nurse a glass or two of whiskey. It had been a long day – hell, it had been a long month – and his guilt was eating away at him for what he had said and done to Edward. He had been through enough with Roy rubbing salt in the damn wound. He had jut stood up to leave when the phone's shrill ring filled the silence that he had been working in for the last few hours. Looking up at the clock, Roy saw that it was eight at night. Who would be phoning at this time? Most of the offices were empty at this point of the evening, and for a moment Roy was tempted to ignore it and just go home.
By the fourth ring, Roy had sighed and moved over to the phone, lifting it up to his ear. He trapped it between his ear and his shoulder to free up his hands to pick up the report that he had just finished going through. It was no doubt Hawkeye looking to see if he was still there. "Mustang." He answered, waiting to hear her familiar voice.
"Hi, it's Al."
Well, that was unfortunate. He had spent all day trying to avoid Alphonse's wrath and now he had happened to catch him just as he was leaving. Where was he meant to start explaining that what he had done and said to Edward was for his own good? All he had wanted was for Ed to go home and rest, he didn't want him in the office until he had had some time to cope with everything that had happened. He wanted to make sure that he was fully fit and able and he was suffering a head injury too, so really it was a totally reasonable request. Granted he had lost his temper and taken it too far but...
"General? Are you there?"
"Ah. Yes. Sorry Alphonse. I was just about to head home, is there something I can help you with?" Roy asked. Perhaps Al would take pity on him and leave the vengeful rampage to another day.
"Yeah, I was just wondering if Brother was still there?" Al said, no hint of anger in voice and that in itself made Roy hesitate. Did Al not know what had happened this morning? Why would Ed not tell him, and what did Al mean by 'still there'?
"I haven't seen Edward since I sent him home this morning. Did he tell you that he was coming back in?" Roy asked, trying to ignore the icy claw of panic as it tried to grip his heart.
"What?" Al's change of tone did not stop that same icy claw from squeezing. "Edward hasn't been home all day. He left this morning to go into the office and hasn't come home. When did you send him home? Why? Was he okay? Did something happen?"
Roy closed his eyes, focused on his breathing for a brief second. He needed to think. He needed to be the adult here, and he had to stay calm for Al. Where the hell did Edward go? He knew that he should have sent someone after him.
"I sent him home the moment he got here. I've put him on leave until he's recovered a bit more. He was fine – well, that's a stretch. He wasn't hurt, but he wasn't exactly pleased with my decision." Roy explained. "He didn't come home?"
"No."
Opening his eyes again, Roy looked out of the office window and down into the parade grounds below. Where the hell did Edward go?
"How angry was he, General?"
"Extremely. I might have lost my temper and over stepped while I was trying to talk some sense into him. I will get Havoc and Hawkeye out looking for him. Is there anywhere that you think he would go?"
Roy grabbed a pen and made a note of all the places that Al suggested, telling him to stay in on the off chance that Edward decided to go home. After promising to check in with him with any updates, Roy hung up and swallowed down his panic. What if someone had gotten him? What if they hadn't gotten all the slavers and someone had come to reclaim Edward? He couldn't think about it. He dialled Hawkeye's number, explaining to her what had happened and giving her the list of places where Ed might be, he then repeated the process with Havoc. With his two lieutenants on the case, Roy grabbed his gloves and left the office. Perhaps Madame Christmas or one of the girls would know more. Perhaps they had seen a gorgeous, furious young man storming his way around the city. He hoped beyond words that they had.