WHOLE LIVES, CHAPTER 37: CONCLUSION, PART 1: SPINNING CARPET, FLYING TABLE

By The Binary Alchemist, 2012

(AUTHOR'S NOTE: The Conclusion is a two-parter thanks to LJ's stubborn limitations…and we want the boys to have a splendid reunion, right? However, there's a sticky matter of Roy's decision to break off with Ed for the safety of the kids…..)

"Alphonse, I think I'm going to be sick," Ruby moaned theatrically, hanging on the side of the airship's gondola. The Xerxes swayed as Alphonse pulled down on the valve chain, slowing the airship as it prepared to land.

"Ignore her, Al. She's hoping she'll pass out and you'll give her mouth to mouth resuscitation—from the feet up. Hey Ruby!" Ed smirked, "If you puke and hit a civilian it's five points. Ten if you hit a general and if you hit Mustang I'll give you a fuckin' raise." He passed the spyglass to his brother. "Y'know, Al…maybe we could just stay up here a while longer, huh?" Central Command and the Central Commons loomed into view, shining white stone upon a verdant lawn that very nearly matched the colors of the Amestrian flags that fluttered from nearly every hand in the crowd below. "I just wanna enjoy a few more minutes of peace and quiet before the shitstorm hits."

Maxim slapped him hard across the shoulders. "You know what they say in my country about a big pile of shit, da? An Amestrian sees a big mess to clean up. A Drachman peasant says, 'with all that govno piled so deep, there must be a pony in there somewheres'—in your case a Mustang. You may be buried in a mountain of shit, but he's still there if you keep digging."

Aviator scarves were fluttering in the air along with the national flags. The breeze carried the delicious aroma of sausages steamed in beer, popped corn, candyfloss and all the wonderful fun-fair junk Ed would normally love to stuff his face with. Right now, he felt like he'd swallowed something very angry that was trying to chew its way out of his insides. Alphonse lowered the spyglass and gave his brother a cautioning look. "I mean it, Ed," he warned his brother in a low voice. "Don't mess this up. You know I can beat you—and I can beat Roy too. I—"

"Shut up, Al," Edward snapped back. "If anybody's doin' any beating, it's gonna be me-"

"I can see Winry and the kids!" Alphonse interrupted excitedly.

'I can hear Maes," Ed grinned. "Damn, that kid's got a set of lungs on him. Elycia and Gracia down there? They promised they would come."

"They're …looks like Roy is holding up Nina—Elycia is right with them. That's good. Guess she's okay with him now, not scared of him. Oh, and Teacher's got Maes now—looks like he's got an aeronaut helmet on…"

Ruby wasn't the only one feeling sick. For a split second—only a split second—Ed considered knocking his brother in the head, grabbing the burner valves, yanking them up to high and roaring right past the capitol, heading on south past Dublith and Rush Valley and straight across the border to Aerugo. Claudio'd put us up. Maybe I should tell him he's missing a really goddamned expensive bottle of wine…nahh…Peehole's all right, I guess. "All right…might as well get it over with. Take her down, guys…"

###

Roy's insides were killing him. "Funny. I don't remember eating razor blades for breakfast." It certainly felt like it.

"Sir?" Havoc gave his boss an odd look.

"Nothing." Roy shook his head and adjusted his cap, which Nina kept wanting to inspect. "Have you got anything for an upset stomach?"

"Got a roll of those chalky things," Havoc grinned. "Nothing you'd want on your breath when you wanna kiss somebody—wait, got a peppermint. That'll help. Don't think Ed will mind either."

'Havoc?"

"Chief?"

"Shut the hell up."

"Shutting up sir—oh wait…here they come…damn, that thing is huge. Good thing you got that new Aerodrome under construction. That ship is too damn big to fit on the front lawn anymore!"

Nina squealed in delight and pointed "Ed FWY!"

The pain in Roy's insides—especially in his chest—worsened dramatically. I'll miss them. He glanced down at Elycia who was beaming up at him. At least I can be there for her, Maes…and for Davy Cooper and Jake Leeson and all the others that never would have had a chance if Edward hadn't saved us all on the Promised Day. All the kids that can't afford a good education…that can't get enough to eat and turn to petty crime like Aunt Chris' boys. I've always tried to protect the people—the loved ones and subordinates and friends—beside me and directly under me. I have to do more. I have to protect the future. His free hand rested lightly on Elycia's head.

The Military Band roared into a grand march as the guylines were secured and Alphonse gently coaxed his airship to the ground. He could see Maes wriggling frantically in Izumi's grip. 'Bet you he just peed himself," he joked to his brother.

"Bet you Winry's glad she's not holding hi—hey, look who's with Winry! Isn't that Pitt?" Ed grinned hugely. "Well whadya know…"

Alphonse glanced towards the dignitary's stand. She was there, waving and cheering enthusiastically with a tall, curly haired young doctor at her side. Winry was watching the Xerxes. Pitt Renback was watching Winry. Alphonse felt a very unpleasant churning in his guts for a split second, then turned his mind firmly to the task of a secure landing…and the forthcoming 'discussion' he planned to have with Ed and Roy as soon as they headed inside Central Command.

There was no use holding Maes back once his father had swung his long legs over the lip of the gondola and dropped to the ground. Nina wriggled fiercely and Roy let her go and hand in hand, the children tackled their father who had dropped to his knees to greet them. Ed was sprawled flat on his back, being covered in wet Nina kisses and Maes was sitting on his chest, crowing in delight "Daddy! Daddy!", their beloved "Wroy" completely forgotten.

Roy betrayed no emotion, but a small hand slipped inside his gloved one and squeezed hard. "You still have me, Uncle Roy."

His hand squeezed back.

Roy waited, unmoving, until Ed managed to climb back onto his feet, Izumi and Sig scooping up the youngsters after hugging Ed and Alphonse themselves. When the brothers approached the podium, Roy snapped to a salute. "Edward Elric…Alphonse Elric. Welcome home, and congratulations on your successful mission."

He shook hands with Edward. "I oughta slug you," the younger man hissed under his breath, grinning from ear to ear for the crowds.

Roy tugged discreetly on the cuff of his glove. "I'd like to see you try…without alchemy."

An automail foot planted itself firmly on Roy's boot. "You'll be picking screws and scrap metal out of your asshole, Mr. President."

Hawkeye tensed. "Stand easy, Colonel," Roy warned. He shook hands with Alphonse.

"I need to talk to you—both of you….immediately, Sir," the younger brother whispered. "It's a matter of national security."

Roy's eyes moved from the worried face of Alphonse to the furious, shark-like grin of Edward. "Very well," he acceded. "In my office." He glanced sharply at Colonel Hawkeye. "Alone."

###

Alphonse gestured towards the well-worn leather sofa, his expression anxious enough that Roy humored him. "I'll stand," Ed stated, glancing away from the upholstery he had buffed with various bits of his anatomy on more occasions than he could count.

"Ed—SIT!" Alphonse snapped. His brother's knees, steel and flesh, obeyed. Ed was no fool. While he himself was more bark than bite, a barking Alphonse could—and usually did—mean the younger Elric was about to unleash his not inconsiderable temper.

Alphonse was flushed and panting slightly, eyes swerving one to the other. Roy glanced up at his friend, schooling his expression so it betrayed nothing of the sickness squirming inside his guts. Let's make an end to this before the hurt gets worse. The needs to be quick and clean.

It wasn't worth Ed's time to hold back now. You fucker. Don't you dare…don't you DARE pull this shit with me….the only way you are walkin' out on me is on your hands and knees—with my foot up your ass.

"Well? A matter of national security, you said?" Roy inquired mildly.

"Yeah." Alphonse cleared his throat. "An attack on the president."

One corner of Roy's mouth lifted in amusement. His fingers unconsciously rubbed across the half-faded scar where he'd carved the salamander array on the back of his left hand—not that he needed that anymore. "Do you really want to do this, Alphonse?"

The door burst open, revealing a deceptively small shadow, shaking its fist.

"NO—BUT I DO!"

The next thing Roy Mustang knew he was brushing something ticklish off his face.

It was the carpet. He scarcely had time to notice how the ornate scrollwork pattern was spinning in front of his eyes as he crawled to his knees before something that felt like a size seven women's rubber bathroom sandal caught him hard in the left buttock and sent him sprawling flat again.

Hmmm….these shirts are well made—the buttons don't pop off of someone yanks you off the floor by your collar. A useful thing to know. He was being shaken like a rag doll while a tide of shouted abuse washed over him. He was being pounded by feet and fists—possibly with his own desk lamp and the umbrella stand. He caught the odd shouted commentary here and there, such as "bigger idiot than that bad tempered little brat I had to beat sense into for trying human transmutation" and "if you walk out on those babies that are just learning to love you like a father, I'm going to-". It was hard to focus when one's head was being shoved into a wastepaper basket.

A lot of the invective that accompanied a series of well-targeted punches was obscured by the sound of furniture splintering, glass being smashed to dust, filing cabinets being bounced against and, distantly, Ed being told to shut up and stay out of it "or else" and Alphonse struggling, trying to use calm logic alone to keep a frantic Colonel Hawkeye from shooting Roy's assailant, who leveled a kick to Roy's chest that finally left him sprawled flat on his back on the smashed remains of his antique office coffee table.

He had been shot in the chest by an Ishballan he had once called a friend.

He had survived.

He had suffered major organ damage when Lust drove her claws straight through his body. He survived that attack and the hideous agony of cauterizing his own wounds.

He had been crucified by Wrath, blinded by Truth and attacked by Father. He had, by guts and luck and the help of his friends,survived.

And now….a housewife was beating the crap out of him.

And when she was done, Fuhrer President Roy Mustang staggered to his feet. "Are you going to be a good father to those babies?" Izumi demanded

A trickle of blood dribbled out of his left nostril and over his upper lip. He ignored it. "Yes, Ma'am!"
"You're not going to walk out like some idiot because you think that's what's best for them , the way Hohenheim did to their father and their uncle?"

"No, Ma'am!"

Crackling black eyes turned sharply to Edward. He flinched visibly. "Are you," her voice was softer now, "going to be a good husband to my boy? Will you love each other? Take care of each other?"

"Husband?" Ed gawped at his teacher.

She grabbed his right hand and held it up before Ed's face. The ring Roy had sent Ed before his first flight—just for good luck, of course—still gleamed on the younger man's finger. "What do you call that? Ed? And what do you call a man you want to spend the rest of your life with and help raise your children with? What do you call someone who is there for you, who shares the worst and the best of it—someone who's with you even when you get in your airship or on your aeroplane and fly around the world-even when he's a complete idiot?"

Ed walked slowly over to Roy and the older man leaned on him for support. Ed gently ruffled the messy black hair. "I usually call him 'bastard'"

Hawkeye had pulled out the cuffs. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." Alphonse told her quietly. "I really wouldn't."

After Izumi had walked away with a cheery wave, presumably to freshen up before joining the festivities with the children, the Colonel rushed in, guns drawn. "Fuhrer Mustang! Sir!" she gasped. "Forgive me, Sir! I was trying to stop her but Alphonse—"

One look from Roy's blackened eyes silenced her. "You are relieved of duty, Colonel Hawkeye. Return to your quarters and pack."

She paled. Her throat became suddenly tight. "Pack, Sir?"

Roy rubbed his aching head and sighed heavily. "For about sixty days. You need a furlough. I'm sending you to Aerugo for….hmmm….a vineyard inspection, over in…" he glanced at Ed. "Help me out, will you?"

"Ah…" Ed scratched his head then grinned. "Porto Cervo. Peehole's family had land in that area. I'll give him a call and see what he can come up with. 'Sposed to be really beautiful. Lake country, big villas, very romantic." He nudged Roy, who winced. "Think Major Havoc should go as an official envoy?"

"Done. Now get out of here, Hawkeye. I can take care of myself."

Ed grinned wickedly. "No he can't. He just let an old lady kick the shit out of him—"

"I HEARD THAT!" A voice outside the door made Ed duck for cover behind his wounded lover.

With as much dignity as he could muster, Roy shooed everybody but his lover out of the wreckage of his office, closed the double doors, locked them and leaned heavily against them for support, the brass door plate feeling very soothing and cool against his bruised face.

A warm, tall body fitted itself into the curve of his aching back. "I think I cracked a rib or two." Roy grunted in pain as his lover's arms slide around his chest and squeezed very gently.

"She's like that," was all Ed could answer.

Roy let out a long sigh. "Give me your word, Ed. We are not raising our daughter to beat people up. Defend herself if need be, yes, of course. Protect others with alchemy—even firearms? I have no problem with that. But-"

'—beating the snot out of someone—"

"-a wrench to the head or…shoving someone's head in a filing cabinet drawer and slamming it shut…repeatedly…"

"—I missed that part. You're exaggerating."

"Sure FEELS like she did." It hurt to breathe, and the first man or woman to offer him an aspirin would be awarded the Presidential Medal of Honor. "My point being, our daughter will not take after her adopted grandmother or her biological mother in that singular respect."

Since Winry's wrench slinging days were over—and the sudden appearance of Dr. Pitt Renback, Ed reckoned, would further mellow her tempestuous temper, the odds were fairly good that Nina wouldn't be pounding anybody into mush unless someone's life depended on it.

He nuzzled his face into Roy's untidy hair. He might have been purpling up like a grape but he still smelled as good as ever. "Nope, with you around, I'm betting her primary weapon will be sarcasm."

Roy turned around and Ed whistled In surprise. "She really did a number on you. Did the same thing when she found out how I screwed up with Mom and Al." He spit on his handkerchief and blotted a bit of blood off Roy's lips before lightly kissing them. "We got that press luncheon in half an hour. We gotta cover this up."

He buzzed Maria Ross on the office intercom. " This is Ed. Listen, can I borrow some of your makeup?"

There was a crackle of static and from the speaker he heard a wail of horror. "Oh no…NOT AGAIN?"

"Again?" Ed glanced over at Roy who looked innocent. He'd never told Edward of the morning after their first night as lovers when he'd begged cosmetics from Ross to cover up a neckful of livid love bites.

Ed shrugged. "Women…go fig!"

…..TO BE (Finally) CONCLUDED in PART 2…..