Cornered
"Edward, I need to talk to you."
He turned slowly, eyeing Mustang as he climbed off the porch steps. "What do you want?"
"I realize you've been made aware of my part in the death of the Rockbells." Mustang's voice didn't change, remaining as flat and level as always. How the fuck did he do that? Didn't it tear him up inside? How the hell did he live with himself with all that blood on his hands? Either of him?
Edward folded his arms, rocking back on his heels. "Yeah, so?"
"Either you were unaware of that fact in your world, or there were more differences. However, it doesn't change that I, and the military, are probably still your best way of returning to your home."
He flashed his teeth, furious at the implications. Put on that fucking collar in another world and maybe get home, he thought, or blow the bastard off, and take care of Al and learn to live here, with this Winry. But there was a girl waiting for them, one he'd promised to make cry tears of joy. Edward thrust his hands in his pockets, feeling the smooth bits of metal there; Winry's earrings. The cool metal warmed under his fingers.
This was fucking Baschool, again – Edward had no choice but to trust someone when he wasn't sure he should. He ground his teeth together, flexing his fingers. He couldn't take Al with him this time; his little brother wasn't strong enough. And Winry.
Fuck Fuck.
"Fine," Edward snarled. "What do you need me to do?"
