Red Roses2: Sorry this is so delayed. I had plans that came up unexpectedly and haven't written as much as I wanted. And then when this was ready to be posted, wouldn't let me log in, so this is about five days late. But I've thought of some really interesting turns of events that I hope I'll get to soon. You guys are going to A) love it, B) not believe it, or C) want to hit someone. Or all three, whatever floats your boat. I've also discovered a new favorite tea, so that's why raspberries keep popping up in this chapter. And it's 9 pages! W00t! (Wow, spell check sees nothing wrong with w00t. That's weird.)
Disclaimer: I don't own Fullmetal Alchemist. It belongs to Hiromu Arakawa.
!#$%^&*()_+~
Pinako wondered how a man could get such glee from being glared at so much. Heinrich and Scar refused to take their hateful gazes off of Greed, and Greed grinned smugly through it all. Ed ignored it for the most part, but he did try to pull Heinrich's attention away from Greed.
It didn't help that Greed was still flirting randomly.
"There's a river up near the sheep herds," Ed chatted, stroking Heinrich's arm with his flesh hand. "And the sheep festival is supposed to start soon, right Auntie?"
Pinako nodded, twisting her screwdriver into the automail limb in her hands.
"It's not as fun as the festival in Leore, but there's free food and games." Heinrich finally took his eyes off of Greed to take in Ed's smile. "Mom, Al, Winry, and I used to have a lot of fun at it. It's been a while since I've been."
Heinrich gave Ed a soft smile, and he opened his mouth to say something, but Greed changed the subject.
Greed rested his chin on his tattoo, his sunglasses sliding down his nose seductively. "If you ever get bored with Amestrian boys, I'm perfectly fine with a one-night stand."
Heinrich glared at Greed, gritted his teeth and tightened his fists. Ed gave him a disbelieving look.
"Says the man who wants to take over the world," Ed said. He looked back at Heinrich and tried, once again, to divert his attention.
Heinrich merely narrowed his eyes, distrust – and jealousy? What did he have to be jealous about? – smoldering in his gaze.
Ed sighed and stood up.
"I give up." The military official crossed the room into the hall. "Here, Den! Let's go for a walk!" The dog trotted up to Ed, the click-click-click-clong of natural and automail nails echoing through the house.
A regretful frown adorned Heinrich's face, and a sigh escaped his lips as the door shut. His glare turned morose and exhausted, as though he had been giving it for more than twenty minutes.
"I hate you," Heinrich said, every bit of the vehemence his expression had a few moments before present in his voice.
It was strange to see such a tired expression and hear such a loathing tone of voice at the same time.
Greed's grin faltered slightly.
"I don't like you, either," Greed admitted. He leaned back in his chair and pushed his sunglasses farther up his nose. "You have the one thing I'd give the world up for, after all." Heinrich furrowed his eyebrows.
Scar's glare softened into some kind of indifference.
Pinako stood up and set the automail on the table.
"That's enough out of you. Both of you." Pinako said. Greed's grin finally fell into a frown; his shoulders slumped, his facial muscles became lax, and it looked like the melancholy in the house finally pushed him down. "Greed, go do something out of the way. Heinrich, go catch up with Edward." Heinrich opened his mouth to say something, but Pinako gave him a good reason. "Ed only takes Den for a walk when he's visiting his mother's grave. It's the closest you'll get to meeting her."
~!#$%^&*()_+
Pinako grunted as she finally sat down at the kitchen table. Scar cleared her workbench. They sighed in unison.
"Scar, what's your opinion of Alfons Heinrich?" Pinako asked.
Scar set the tool bag onto the floor and sat in the chair across from Pinako.
"Edward worships him. I don't understand why. He seems . . . ordinary." Scar admitted.
Pinako grunted. "Well, I'm not really surprised. Ed lets himself get wrapped up in things that he loves, even if it hurts him in the end. Like the idea of having his mother back from the dead."
Scar bowed his head. He'd seen the grave, but no one really told him the story.
"Alphonse did have his misgivings about the whole idea, but Edward was so enamored with it that he refused to let common sense tell him otherwise. As a result, they spent years trying to regain Al's body, and Ed still has the stumps as evidence."
Scar looked at the markings on the table – a few scratches here, a burn there – and sighed.
The two sat there in silence, one wondering what was wrong with Amestrians, the other thinking of what she should tell Hoenheim when she called later.
~!#$%^&*()_+
Heinrich watched Ed from afar, unable to will his legs to move any closer. The wind carried Ed's whisper towards him, and his words held Heinrich in place.
"I think you'd really like him, Mom. He's really sweet. He can be a little overprotective at times, but that's okay. He's just looking out for me."
His words wavered with the sounds of sobs, but happiness laced his voice.
Leaves blew into Ed's blond locks. Heinrich noticed the hair tie was no longer keeping Ed's hair back, and that beautiful golden mane whipped about in the wind. Ed ran his flesh hand through his hair, fingers catching on a few tangles.
"Guess the wind stole my hair tie," Ed joked. Den barked in agreement.
Heinrich had heard Ed laugh. He'd heard him cry. He'd heard him talk, heard him grumble, heard him moan and gasp and mewl and whimper, heard him yell and shout and demand. He'd heard him explain, heard him make excuses. But he had never heard him sound so . . . at peace.
Standing there, by himself, with a dog, before his mother's grave, he sounded more at peace than he ever did with Heinrich, with Hoenheim, with Winry – with Al. . . .
He didn't know whether he should run away or step up beside Ed. He didn't want to ruin how . . . perfect Ed was right then.
Sun glinted off of his automail arm. His clothes rippled with the wind and his movements. Heinrich caught a glimpse of a bouquet of white and purple flowers.
"Here, Mom. I transmuted them on my way here."
Ed set them on the grave sight, though Heinrich couldn't see it. Ed's back blocked the grave itself. Ed straightened up.
"Al got married. Did you know that? His wife's name is Mei. She's really sweet. Pretty, too. 'Course, she doesn't compare to you! They have a little girl named Ming. I swear, she's the cutest niece ever!"
Heinrich's shoulders slumped. Slowly, he trekked farther up the hill. A twig snapped, and Ed looked over his shoulder. The wind cooled hot tears as they rolled down Ed's cheeks. Heinrich kept climbing until he stood next to Ed. He placed a hand on his shoulder – his automail one.
He knew Ed's automail went all the way up to his shoulder. He knew it felt cold and – well – metal, not warm and soft like his flesh. But the unyielding firmness reminded him of its story – Trisha Elric's story.
Heinrich pulled Ed into his arms and held him tightly. He pressed his cheek against the side of Ed's head, breathed in the combined smell of machine oil and raspberry shampoo, rubbed his right hand over the place where automail arm met flesh and his left hand down the small of Ed's back. He felt Ed tilt his head confusedly.
"Hei - ?"
"Alfons."
"Huh?"
"I liked it when you called me Alfons." Was it memories of your mother or memories of Al that is making you cry? "It sounds wonderful when you say it."
Heinrich sensed Ed's smile as Ed nuzzled his neck.
"Okay, Alfons. But what are you doing here?"
Heinrich pulled away from Ed, a small sad smile lingering on his lips.
"I was hoping to say hello to your mother."
Ed matched his smile and turned towards the grave. Heinrich let his eyes drift to the grave. The marble marker, with the name Trisha Elric, looked into his soul without eyes, touched his core without hands – threatened him without words.
It was stupid to fear the dead. It wasn't scientifically possible for the dead to harm the living. He knew that. But that name – that marble slab – the peace that it gave Ed – it was a silent demand, a secret taunt.
He couldn't be her. He couldn't be the one to make Ed feel so at home. He was just the stray cat that Hoenheim brought home. He was just there to keep Ed company, to make him happy.
You can't be me.
I can't be you.
You're dead, and yet I envy you so much right now.
"Mom, this is Alfons." Ed's flesh arm circled around Heinrich's waist. The wind blew Ed's hair onto Heinrich's arm. "He's the best thing that ever happened to me."
Heinrich's chest swelled with satisfaction and pride; his cheeks flushed with glee.
He pulled Ed's automail arm to complete the circle his flesh arm had started. Ed gasped. He looked up at Heinrich and met his incredibly pleased smile.
Ed felt like he couldn't breathe.
"You – you don't mind the automail?"
Heinrich's eyes curved upward as his smile widened.
"Why would I? It's part of you, and I love you."
Ed's face flushed adorably. He bowed his head and looked back at Trisha's grave.
"Told you he was perfect."
Perfect. Perfect. He thought he was perfect.
It was stupid to think Greed was competition.
Heinrich looked back at Trisha's grave.
"Ms. Trisha, thank you so much for bringing such a wonderful son into the world."
Ed's blush deepened.
"And I wish you were still here so you both could be even more happy," Heinrich added.
If Ed turned any redder, his head would explode.
Without words, Heinrich pulled Ed back down the hill. Ed made a quick goodbye to Trisha's grave and followed him eagerly. Den made an annoyed growl and trotted after them. The dog flattened his ears and narrowed his eyes at the strange man who showed up with Master Winry's friend Edward.
Keep in mind that this is the dog who approved of Scar.
Heinrich stopped, rested his left hand on Ed's shoulder, and lifted Ed's chin up with his right hand.
"I'm perfect, huh?"
Ed ducked his head, an embarrassed laugh escaping his lips.
"Well, yeah. I mean, even Al shied away from my automail."
Heinrich's smile disappeared, his playful mood dissipated.
"He didn't mean to. But sometimes he couldn't help it."
Heinrich wished that damn forgiving smile would go away.
Ed looked up and flashed him a grin. "Thank you. It means a lot to me."
The German forced another smile. "No problem. I just hope I live up to your opinion of me."
The look on Ed's face was somewhat worrying. That smile, those wide eyes, the small tilt of the head said: what are you talking about, of course you will.
It shouldn't have made Heinrich feel so great. But it did.
He wondered if this pride was going to be his downfall.
~!#$%^&*()_+
Mustang knocked on the Hughes' door. He took a deep breath and flashed a charming smile as the door opened.
"Good evening, Gra - !" Mustang started jovially, but then he realized it wasn't Gracia. "Elysia!"
"Good evening, Roy!" Elysia said, the eleven-year-old grinning back at him. "How are you?"
"I'm well. And yourself?"
"Great!"
"Glad to hear it. Where's your mother?"
"Out shopping. But you can come in if you'd like. There's something I've been wanting to talk to you about."
Mustang raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
Elysia nodded, her long blonde pigtails bouncing. Mustang stepped into the house, and Elysia closed the door behind him. She led him into the living room.
"Would you like some tea? I made some for when Mommy comes back."
Mustang smiled at her. "If it's not too much trouble."
"Of course it's not! Do you want the blue china or the pink one?"
Mustang's eyes landed on the china with the blue flowers, and the memory of Hughes registering it for him and Gracia stabbed at his heart – repeatedly. Backstabber, backstabber, BACKSTABBER! The one with pink flowers wasn't any better, but at least Hughes bought that set specifically for Elysia.
"Pink's fine." Mustang said softly. Elysia tilted her head, confused, at the solemn expression on his face. She shrugged it off and set the pink-flowered cup and saucer in front of him. She poured raspberry tea into Mustang's cup and poured some for herself. "What was it you wanted to talk to me about?"
Elysia took a sip of tea, like a princess would, and steeled her expression. "Mommy and I have decided that it's time that she should start dating again."
The tea cup almost fell from Mustang's grasp. Elysia didn't seem to notice.
"It's hard to find someone nice, though. I mean, they seem nice at first, but they're mean to me when Mommy's not around, and that's no good. In the end, turns out all they want is Mommy's money."
Mustang furrowed his eyebrows. That didn't sound right at all! Who wouldn't be in love with a beautiful, kind, funny, intelligent woman like Gracia? Another stab at his heart – TRAITOR!
Elysia sipped her tea once more. "Then there was that one guy who was nice until he had a bit of alcohol. Mommy still has the bruise from when he hit her."
Mustang's hands balled into fists. Elysia did acknowledge this, but she didn't say anything.
"He's not around anymore, don't worry. Mommy dated Sergeant Brosh for a while, and he's still nice, but it just didn't work out. He was really sorry about it, though, and he drops by to play with me sometimes. But I was wondering if you knew of anyone who would like Mommy."
Oh, I know of someone, but . . . .
Mustang gulped a mouthful of tea down and set the cup back on its saucer.
"Well, I'd suggest Havoc, Breda, Falman, or Fuery, but Havoc's dating Sheska, Breda: Rebecca from Inventory, Falman: Maria Ross, and Fuery: Hawkeye. And Ed's not even straight - ," Mustang blanched once he said it; Ed was going to kill him!
Elysia cocked her head to the side, giving him a doe-eyed expression. "You mean Uncle Ed?"
Mustang laughed nervously. Elysia smiled.
"Oh, Mommy and I knew that already. Mommy caught him with his boyfriend. She wouldn't let me see, though."
Mustang's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. "She did? When was this?"
"A few years ago."
Years ago?
"Did you happen to catch a name?"
Elysia shook her head. "Mommy wouldn't tell me who it was, either." Elysia furrowed her eyebrows at Mustang's suddenly concerned expression. "Why?"
Mustang took a deep breath, thought about the consequences of recruiting an eleven-year-old into Mission Investigay, and decided "what the heck".
"Havoc, Fuery, and I are concerned as to the nature of Ed's relationships. We know he's in one currently, but he won't tell us who it is. He's also still trying to convince everyone he's straight, which makes it more difficult. Recently, we've become distracted from our goal, and now that Ed's on a recuperative trip, we can't investigate much. We're actually pretty concerned."
Elysia frowned. "Do you think it has something to do with when he was really sad?"
"You know about that?"
Elysia nodded and leaned back into her comfy chair. "Yeah. Mr. Hoenheim would be the only one to answer the phone, and when Mommy and I dropped by unexpectedly, we couldn't really visit with him because he couldn't stop crying." Mustang's eyes widened. "Mr. Hoenheim wasn't rude about it, but he did say that we shouldn't bother Ed until he was able to put himself back together. Mommy asked if it had to do with Ed's boyfriend, and Mr. Hoenheim said that his boyfriend up and disappeared."
Mustang halted all movement, his eyes frozen in their progressive widening.
Up and disappeared? Boyfriend? Crying?
Where's Al? Ed frozen in mid-gesture, his arm half-way into his left sleeve. Tears welding, teeth gritting. Lowering his gaze to the floor, coat falling off his arm and to the floor. I – I don't - I don't know. Sobs escaping, tears spilling over, couldn't stop crying or hold himself up on his two feet.
Slowly, Mustang shook his head in disbelief. No, he had to be mistaken. Or Elysia was mistaken. Or Hoenheim was mistaken. Someone HAD to be mistaken. There was no way Ed and Al –
It's okay. Al will come home, and everything will be okay. He just needs some time, but he'll be home. I came back, didn't I? So will Al. Shhh, it's okay. That steely glare Hoenheim gave him as he suggested Mustang, Hawkeye, and Havoc leave. As though daring him to contradict.
The front door opened.
"Elysia, I'm home!"
Elysia jumped up excitedly. "Mommy! Look who came to visit!"
Mustang gathered his composure, stood up, and bowed. Gracia smiled warmly at him.
"It's nice to see you again, Roy."
"It's my pleasure, Gracia."
Elysia's face lit up suddenly. Mustang could practically see the light bulb click above her head.
"I know, Mommy!"
"Know what, sweetie?"
"Roy can be your next date!"
Mustang gawked at Elysia. His mouth flapped like a fish's – no sound coming out. He was pretty sure the chill that just ran up his spine was from Hughes's glare from the grave.