Ed and Al always seemed sad.
Nina wasn't sure why, but they just were. Al was irritable and quick to snap at people, but also seemed to strain himself to be pleasant. Ed was tired more often than not. He'd stop paying attention to what she was saying, or lose focus on what he was doing, or get really anxious. When she asked, he told her it was grown up stuff, which really wasn't fair, because he was a kid like her.
The time she told him that, he didn't respond, but his eyebrows had drawn together and he'd glanced away, before mumbling that it wasn't the kind of thing she needed to know about. She pressed him for more, but then he just crossed his arms and changed the topic.
She realized, later, that she had upset him. She didn't try asking again after that.
She didn't think that they noticed that she noticed that something was wrong. Although she hadn't, for a while, but then things started happening, like how Ed and Al never left their room. Sometimes her dad would take Ed away to study, or help with chores, and when Ed came back he'd act super weird. Other times, when Ed returned, she'd go to knock on the door to play with him, and hear him arguing with Al. They'd talk in hushed, angry tones, and it would be hard to understand everything they were saying, except for the days where the murmurs became shouts. They'd yell about her dad, or the alchemy test, or even about her, and then something would slam and water would run.
They'd stopped having family dinners after an argument broke out at the table between her dad and Al a few weeks ago.
Al had been upset because Ed was hurt and he'd said it was her dad's fault, and then her dad had told him that Ed would've been fine if Al hadn't been so violent. The dispute ended when Ed slammed his knife down and told them to shut up while they're company. Then they all looked at her, and she felt really embarrassed, because she still didn't know what was wrong, but it seemed like she'd done something she shouldn't have.
Afterwards, Ed had taken her into the other room, hugged her tight, and told her not to repeat any of what they'd said to anybody else. When she asked why, he said to just trust him.
They never fought in front of her after that, but everyone still acted weird when they were together. The silences would draw out a little too long. When there was conversation, it was strained. Ed would talk with her to fill the quiet up with something, and Al would nod along, but the minute her dad said anything, they'd both tense like they forgot he was there, before retreating back into themselves.
Her teacher, Mrs. Martin, had mentioned during class that it's normal for people to argue, and the best way to fix it is to talk it out. Clara Davids said she disagreed. Nina had thought Clara Davids was an idiot before that, so she figured Mrs. Martin must be right.
And so Nina followed that line of thinking down the hallway of her house and towards her dad's door. Because if anybody could make it better, it was him. If they just needed to sit down and talk about it, she guessed that he could help with that.
Besides, he'd mentioned that he had a surprise for her that he wanted to show off today. She'd been looking forward to it since when he'd mentioned it the night before, and she'd spent all of school wondering what it was. Maybe a new pet, or a trip somewhere, or her favorite food. There were a lot of things, she wasn't sure where to start. Maybe she should've asked for a hint.
Her backpack hugged her shoulders tightly and weighted her footsteps as she walked through the corridor of her home. Her eyelids were heavy. She really wanted a nap. Coming back from school always left her tired, but she was devoted to her decision now. She let out a yawn and her hand traced the paint on the wall, trailing the texture, making the tips of her fingers numb. She hummed one of the songs she'd heard from her dad's records lightly to herself, uncaring of her volume as she rounded the edge of the hall.
And just as she did, she saw Ed flit out of her dad's door and down the hallway. He was stumbling slightly, in a rush, his strides quick and his head held high. She raised her voice, about to call for him, when he darted around the other corner. A door slammed shut.
Nina frowned, but shrugged it off. At least she knew her dad was probably there. Nobody was allowed in his room when he wasn't with them, afterall.
She began her journey down the hall with newfound anticipation. The second she came to her destination, she knocked at his door. No response.
She tried again. Nothing.
Maybe he wasn't there after all. She furrowed her eyebrows, about to back away, about to go to her room and try again later-
And that's when the curiosity hit. A creeping, persistent feeling, one that sunk its teeth into her flesh and made her jittery. It gnawed at her from the inside out, told her what to do, almost made the decision for her. Because yes, she wasn't allowed in there technically, but Ed had done it, and she'd always wondered why she wasn't supposed to enter. And besides, maybe she'd get a hint for what the surprise was, and then she wouldn't have to wonder so much.
Her eyes shifted around the hall, her ears wide open, straining for any noise or hint of company. When none came, she grinned and cracked the door to go in.
It was dark. The curtains were drawn and none of the lights were on, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary from the times she'd seen it. After waiting for a moment, debating if she should back out, she slipped through the door and closed it softly behind her.
Once inside fully, she glanced around, unsure of what to do. She readjusted her backpack and began the walk towards the middle of the room. She wasn't really looking for anything in particular, so she glanced from corner to corner, taking in every detail for any hints of where to go.
There was a dresser next to the door, a few feet tall. It had dark oak wood and a light sheen of dust that clung to the edges of the drawers. She vaguely recalled her dad buying it shortly after they'd moved in. Her dad's closet stood to her left with double sliding white doors that were cracked open ever so slightly. A desk sat near the other wall, a few dirty cups placed on one of the corners. Files were strewn over the surface, white paper contrasted starkly against the black exterior, the boringness of it almost enough to make her curiosity dwindle and snuff out. Her dad's bed sat in the middle of the room, its headboard flush against the back wall. A plush blue comforter was thrown over it and the mattress was a few feet off the ground, held up by a black foundation.
She figured the closet was a good place to start, and so she trotted towards it and pulled open the doors. The hinges slid back, creaking slightly as wood rubbed against wood. After they were cracked open enough to see the extent of it fully, she poked her head inside.
Coats and shirts dangled loosely off of wire and wood hangers. A few blankets lined a shelf above where they were draped, too high up to be in her reach. Shoes were arranged neatly on the bottom, each glinting slightly, showing off their polished state.
After looking for a moment, she slid the doors back shut. Nothing interesting there. She turned on her heel and started back towards the dresser near the door.
She tugged open the bottom drawer and found… Socks. Fascinating. She tried the next one, which was full of shirts. The final one was almost too tall for her to peer into, but after standing on her tippy toes and straining her neck over it, she saw something glint. She pursed her lips and reached inside.
Her hand hit something cold and stiff. She wrapped her fingers around it and lifted, feeling the smooth texture of metal as she raised it into her view. It was a gun. She put it back in immediately. She was young, but she knew that those were dangerous and bad.
The unease from being in here when she shouldn't was starting to make her knees shake. Her body was tense and she got the feeling she should probably leave before she got in trouble, but she figured looking at one more thing would probably be fine. She really wanted to see if she could figure out the surprise, or at least know what Ed was doing in here. He never told her anything and she doubted just asking would help. He'd just brush it off as something she shouldn't worry about.
She made her way over to the bed and crouched down to peer under it. When she couldn't make anything out but darkness, she got an idea, and slid her backpack off her shoulders. The bag hit the ground with a light thud, rolling ever so slightly, before resting flat on its side. She wasn't sure if it would fit, considering what she was about to do.
She got on her forearms and wiggled herself under the mattress's foundation. A dust bunny brushed against her hand as she crawled. She glanced around, but most of what she saw was cast in shadow. Just as she had turned to leave, the door creaked open and hit the wall with a light tap. Someone walked in.
Her breath caught. She froze in place for a moment, hoping that whoever it was would go away if she was still enough. They didn't.
The guilt of being there was suddenly heavy in her stomach, a string that twisted up and around her insides. She really shouldn't have done this, and now as quickly as she had been curious, she was regretful.
The person came closer into view from where she could peep from beneath the bed. She could only see the bottom of green slacks and leather shoes, but she knew it was her dad. The footsteps drew nearer, before stopping, and then there was another pair. He wasn't alone.
"Do we really have to do this right now?" She recognized the grumbling voice as Ed's. "I've got shit to do."
"You can finish packing later," Her dad said flippantly. "I need to use the bathroom. Get ready while I'm in there."
Ed scoffed. "Fine."
A pair of footfalls retreated towards the entrance to the washroom that stood a few meters away. The door shut, and as soon as it did, Ed sighed and mumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like 'asshole.' She might have giggled at that, another time, but right now her heart was racing louder than any off-hand comments, even if they did have funny words.
There was the sound of cloth brushing against skin. Fabric hit the floor and Ed's tank top now laid in a black, discarded lump near the edge of the bed. Nina got the feeling she really wasn't supposed to be here.
But then it stopped. She could make out Ed's feet turning in her direction, and it was at that moment that Nina realized that her backpack was still on the ground, clearly in noticeable view for him.
She stifled her mouth with her hand and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping that he wouldn't realize she was under the bed. Her prayers didn't mean anything, apparently, because as soon as Ed picked up the backpack and it disappeared from her line of sight, he crouched down to look at her. His eyes widened.
"Nina," Ed whispered. His previous shock morphed into a look of agitation, his bright irises made darker by the dim light, though they held a shine to them that wasn't usually present. His shirt was off and his hair hung loose over his shoulders. "What the hell are you doing?"
"I- I was just-" She started, keeping her voice low as well. Embarrassment and guilt bit at her, threatening to turn into falling tears. The string that twisted her stomach into knots got more and more tangled with every passing second.
Ed shook his head and cut her off, "Okay," He sighed. "Explain later. I need you to get your backpack and get out. And don't do this again, got it?"
His voice was an irritated whisper, so unlike his usual friendly rowdiness that it threw her off. His eyes darted between her and the bathroom door, lips pressed so tightly that Nina could almost feel his anxiety. Or maybe that was just hers, because she really didn't want to be grounded for this.
She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. "Please don't tell dad," Her voice came out softer than she'd meant it to be, cracking a bit as she spoke.
"I won't, now c'mon."
He stood and stepped back. Nina followed shortly behind, wiggling herself out from beneath the mattress's foundation and standing as soon as she could. Her legs shook and buckled below her as Ed handed her the backpack. He walked with her towards the door, clearly in a rush, but he kept his steps quiet.
As Nina looked at him, she noticed all of the marks. Her lips turned into a frown. "You're hurt," She whispered. "What happened?"
He opened his mouth to speak, his cheeks growing darker, before he shook his head and brought a finger to his lips. Confusion gnawed at her, raising question after question the longer she stared at him. Why wouldn't he talk about it? That wasn't fair, she wanted to know.
"Tell me," She mouthed, gripping her backpack close to her chest and furrowing her eyebrows into a pout.
In lieu of responding, Ed ushered her into the hallway, slightly hurried in his movements, almost aggressive. He smiled softly at her, as if to tell her to not worry, and then promptly closed the door behind him. The motion was so soft that she didn't even hear the handle click.
"Edward," After a few moments, her dad's voice could be made out faintly through the walls. "I thought I said to get ready."
"Sorry."
Nina wasn't sure how long she stood there, staring at the door. The seconds ticked by in the form of a grandfather clock at the end of the hallway, the methodical rhythm not helping to sort her thoughts in the slightest. A part of her was tempted to just shrug this off as weird and move on, but Nina could tell that something was wrong. She didn't know what, or how, or why, but she knew it was off.
She was brought back, in that moment, to her first day of school. To the icy wind that bit at her cheeks and the jelly donut Ed had bought for her from a nearby bakery in celebration. But most importantly, to the words he'd spoken, with a clenched fist and a pained, worried face.
To the game she'd agreed to play.
Ed had promised to get her anything she wanted if she warned him in the event that her or Al were in danger.
But he'd never said anything about himself.
She wondered why that was.
She put her back to the wall and slid down, brushing against it until she could sit on the floor with her knees drawn up. She glanced again to the door, straining her ears for the occasional noise that escaped the grasp of the walls, the rare clue she could use to figure out why everyone was being so weird. Whatever was going on sounded painful. She furrowed her eyebrows.
After a while, her eyelids felt heavy, and she grew bored of sitting there with nothing to do, but she wasn't about to leave, either. She wanted to understand what was happening. Eavesdropping was rude, she knew that, but her curiosity was once again outweighing risk.
At some point she dozed off, the sheer exhaustion from her stress and day at school enough to lull her into a state of unconsciousness. She leaned on her backpack, her back sore from sitting for so long, and her eyes slipped closed as they pulled her into dreamland.
It might've been minutes, or hours, or only a few seconds, Nina wasn't sure, but after some time, she woke up to yelling.
ooOoo
Ed was back in that room, yet again, but it wasn't like he ever truly left, did he?
The curtains were drawn. The dark blue, heavy cotton only allowed the tiniest rays of sunlight to dance between the cracks in the fabric. The sight was far too soft, far too pretty, far too mundane to be in a place like this. It was almost cruel.
The door was locked, as it always was, and Ed wasn't sure if the fact that nobody could enter made it better, or worse. Clothes were strewn about the floor. The plain, green walls seemed entirely too small. Ed wondered if at any moment, they'd box him in completely. The outside world felt like a distant memory and he ached in the absence of it. Of being somewhere else, with somebody else, as someone else.
He huddled into the sheets and pulled the comforter up past his chest. It shrouded his body completely, gave him a sense of protection, made him feel like he wasn't baring every part of him in the way that he knew he was. It was warm, and yet he still felt goosebumps trail his flesh, biting numbness at his skin, a blizzard in his mind that obscured any clear thought.
Rain pattered against the roof. It was harsh, complete with lightning, thunder, and he wondered if somehow, the storm could wash him away from here. If he could join it and become a part of a stream, river, ocean, part of something bigger. If he could escape within the droplets of water and find himself someplace else.
He stared down at the floor and counted the wooden panels, over and over. He recited elements, mentally sang the national anthem, anything to get his mind off of where he was at that moment.
While curled in Tucker's bed, he tried to ignore the arm around his waist. It trapped him, close to the man's chest, so close he could feel breath on his neck. His arm was falling asleep beneath the dead-weight of his body. He was tempted to readjust it, but even the smallest gestures made him afraid that Tucker would remember he was there.
He'd been pinned the second he moved in here, the minute Tucker had laid his filthy eyes on him, the moment he led his guard down-
But the fact that he could barely move, even now, was just pouring salt in the wound.
Tucker had wanted him to stay, just a little longer. Ed hadn't bothered to test his luck by saying no. It had to have been a few hours, by now, and Ed wasn't feeling up for another round, but he doubted he had a choice. He'd gotten lucky with the pictures a few days ago. Tucker had taken pity on him for whatever reason.
Ed still couldn't believe he'd cried. He'd been doing it more lately than he had in his entire life, and it was stupid. It's not like tears fixed his problems. It's not like he had time to wallow in self pity, especially in front of Tucker. Ed had let the man see such a vulnerable side of him, and he hated that he couldn't even control it at this point.
But there weren't words for it, there was no possible way to put the things that were happening into clear thought, into phrases he could utter. There was no translation. He could make a million analogies, say a thousand things, stitch together expressions of speech until his throat was sore and he was out of breath, but it'd never come close to what it had been like, being in this room.
So when it got to be too much, he cried. And he almost felt better, but he also felt worse.
He wondered if doing it made him hypocritical. The weeping brought him back to his childhood, to Winry and her sensitive nature, to the things he'd say to her-
("Crying is for babies!" Ed stood, one flesh hand on his hip, the other outstretched to help her up. His pride was present in every tendon, every inch of bone. Not yet stored away somewhere within the throws of his mind, and not yet a painful, metal reminder. "Hey c'mon, it's alright. You're being stupid, tears won't help anything.") Winry's angry remarks as her eyebrows furrowed and snot ran down her face, smeared over her lips, glistened in the summer sunlight. ("You're being mean, Ed!" She sniffled, "It makes me feel better!")
And he really thought, then, that she might've been on to something all along.
He wondered if Tucker would feel bad about this if he broke down for real. Probably not. He doubted the man felt guilty. He doubted Tucker had to spend hours scrubbing himself in the bath, or feel burnt anytime somebody touched him, or taste acid anytime he thought about what happened in here. He got to just have sex and then move on with his life. That really wasn't fair.
It never seemed to chip away at Tucker like it did to Ed. It never seemed to truly affect him, change him at his very core, strip away every part of him and replace it with something that wasn't quite right. Wasn't quite the same. He wasn't shattered by the end of it, he never spaced out, he never cried. Tucker was present. He was present, and he enjoyed every second.
But Ed held out on the tiniest sliver of hope that Tucker might be fractured like he was, that this might eat at him, day by day. That he felt guilty. That at any minute, before Ed left, the man would say he was sorry. That he'd promise he would stop, that he'd say he regretted doing this, that Tucker would recognize how much he had hurt him. That he would repent. And then Ed could cut him out of his life and finally sleep at night.
Or maybe he wouldn't. Maybe Tucker would apologize, and everything would be okay. They could yell it out and none of this would actually mean anything in the end. None of this would actually be real.
Or Tucker could say that he never liked him at all. The man could hit him and spit at him and tell him he was a useless whore who he'd despised this whole time. Ed would yell back, tell Tucker he's a selfish asshole who he hated, who fucked everything up, who betrayed him. And then Ed would flip him off and storm out of the house guns blazing and he'd know he'd been right all along. He'd be able to accept that Tucker had always loathed him, that the man was trying to hurt him on purpose. That Ed wasn't making this up, that this was weird and not okay and he was allowed to hate every second of it. He could finally acknowledge that this was real and this was painful and he was allowed to fucking cry for once.
Either would work. Either would be better than this tar-pit of a middle ground, where Ed sunk further and further into his emotions until the constant, daily fear was heavy in his lungs and he couldn't breathe anymore. This tar-pit of a middle ground, where Tucker fucked him and then held him like he deserved the right to do so. Like he wasn't actively threatening him into having sex, like this wasn't the most traumatic three months Ed's ever been through. And he'd lost two limbs, a brother, and a mother by age 11.
And, well, both of those options were fantasies. Just that, possibilities he could hope for, because hoping was really all he could do at this point. He felt so wishy-washy, so resigned. He hated it.
Ed was tossing coins into an endless well. He tried to find comfort in the hope that they'd hit the bottom and his wish might come true, but he knew they wouldn't. They were fantasies and he'd never get that kind of closure. He shouldn't need it anyways. He definitely didn't deserve it.
Tucker was a bastard who wouldn't let him have peace and he still hadn't found Nina's mother. He wondered if he'd have to take Nina with him after all, because keeping her here really wasn't an option.
But another choice was brewing in his mind. It sewed dread into the very seams of his being and lurked in the back of his thoughts. The more he tried to push it away, the more it came forward, the more desperate it made him. It was always, always there, and every passing second brought him closer to considering it, which was really the scariest part.
He couldn't stay.
But he also could.
He could live here, and he could chase leads through research while Al traveled on the road. They could call every other day and exchange information. It wasn't ideal, not at all, but at this rate he was willing to compromise in a way he'd never been able to do before.
He really, really didn't know you could be this angry at somebody you've never met. It felt like Lillian was shredding the last bits of his resolve with every second the woman spent absent. Because she got to escape, of course she got to escape, but he was stuck here, looking after her kid, until further notice. He adored Nina. He loved her almost as deeply as he loved Al, he would do anything to make sure she stayed safe, but this really wasn't fair. Staying was the closest thing to a compromise he could think of, but he knew he couldn't keep this up much longer.
At this rate, it was like he couldn't win no matter what.
He wondered if the fact that he was even thinking that was a bad sign, though it felt so true he barely had the energy to fight it anymore.
He'd been broken down and stitched back together into a pathetic imitation of who he'd been. Every time he went into this room felt like he was being pulled apart and reconstructed, the rips in his psyche sloppily patched over with the remaining will he had left. Nothing was the same anymore. He wasn't sure if he always had the potential to be this desolate, or if it was something that was entirely the fault of the situation at hand. He honestly wasn't sure which he preferred.
But Ed knew it wasn't healthy that he was losing the ability to give a damn in the way he used to. Before, he'd take issue with every single thing, every little detail, he'd find a way to fix it, he'd find something to complain about. He'd get what he wanted without sacrificing anything important.
Reality doesn't work like that, though. Now he would settle for just not being dead, not having his brother be dead, and not having Nina become a victim, too.
If he left and something happened, the guilt would be too much to bear.
But if he stayed, he'd be breaking his promise to Al that he'd do everything in his power to get his body back. He would be splitting his attention between too many things, there'd be no way he could spend every second devoted to his goal when he had Tucker, taking care of Nina, and keeping himself together to worry about. He wasn't about to have Al switch places with him, either, because he'd give up his remaining two limbs before he even considered that as a valid option.
He'd need to resign from the military the same week he'd joined. They wouldn't let him back in and there was a chance that he couldn't leave even if he tried. He was a prodigy, a human weapon, invaluable to the government. He'd either face a court martial for refusing to finish his contract, or he'd need to run and have his leash become his noose. At best he'd serve time and at worst they'd send him to the gallows for desertion.
And even if he got out, he'd lose all the extra research, all the extra information on the stone that Mustang could give him. He could probably get access on restricted material if he asked Tucker, but-
The thought made his head spin. He'd really owe the man then. There was no way to know what Tucker would want in return and his brother wouldn't be there if something happened. This whole thing only ever started because Ed owed a debt and Tucker had enough leverage to scare him into paying it. If he'd been more careful before, he wouldn't be in this situation now. He couldn't give the man more things to dangle over him.
But if it came between his safety and Nina's, he could make do. And if he was fucked either way, he may as well help his brother in the process.
He could cut off everyone but Al and become a distant memory. And then he could focus on research, do whatever he had to do to keep Tucker satiated and get new material for said research, and fix his brother. It wasn't ideal, not even close, but it would get him what he wanted-
Eventually.
He knit his eyebrows. Determination was a sloppy cover for how nauseated and depressed the thought actually made him.
Right, he'd cut everyone off, people would forget about him, and they'd stop asking questions. Maes was going to get sick of him sooner rather than later. Winry and Granny had their own lives to live. Mustang didn't give a shit about anybody but himself. That was the extent of people who he talked to, nobody would notice his absence. Nobody would be there to witness him break down completely, because he wasn't naive enough to think that wasn't in his future at this rate.
He didn't want to be seen like that. He didn't want anyone to witness the whirlpool that his life was becoming, that he was becoming. One that sucked everything in and ruined it, one that destroyed anything good in its path, that wrecked ships, that ravaged lives. Nothing positive was going to come out of being associated with him at this point. They would all just get too close and find out the truth, or become canon fodder for Tucker's blackmail, or end up leaving anyways because he was a shattered, useless mess right now.
But that was scary, too, because he really didn't want to be alone in this. He couldn't survive being alone in this, not if he wanted to keep himself in three pieces.
He didn't want to stay. But this wasn't about what he wanted, because if he was being honest, none of this had ever been about what he wanted. He did what was needed, what was necessary.
But he really must be selfish, because a part of him was still tempted to run, even now.
He was searching, desperately, for something to hang onto. And that came in the form of his promise to his brother and keeping Nina safe, because what he did need was something to ground him, otherwise he wouldn't just be a whirlpool, his life would become a black hole void of any meaning.
He felt like he was stumbling through his days like a toddler, unable to walk properly, unable to fend for himself, totally helpless-
Ed scowled at that thought. No, he wasn't helpless. He was still fighting. He had to tell himself that. He had to find proof of it, proof in the scars on his body, proof in the fact he was still alive. Maybe not standing, not right now, but he wasn't dead. He was doing something. This had to be worth something.
But fuck, something in him was going to give sooner rather than later at this rate. He knew himself well enough to recognize when screws are loose. Every day that passed was another stone added to his shoulders, another shovel-full of dirt that slowly lowered him into an early grave.
He'd always thought it was dumb, when people moved in the directions life pushed them, when they acted like victims of circumstance. Now he understood, because it felt like no matter what he did, he didn't have a choice.
So yeah, trapped was a good word to describe him, a little shattered, helpless was not, and he'd never felt so goddamn pathetic.
"You still don't have to leave, you know," Tucker said. Ed rolled his eyes. Of course the man would talk. He just couldn't shut his mouth and let Ed pretend he wasn't there, could he?
"Having this conversation for the third time isn't going to change my answer."
"I don't want you to leave."
Something gnawed at Ed, in that moment. It crawled up his throat and it almost tasted like guilt. He swallowed it back down before he could think too much about it, because Tucker's emotions weren't his problem and it was about time the man got a taste of his own medicine. It's not like Tucker kept him around for his personality, anyways.
If he did, that would probably just make it worse.
Ed scowled. "I don't care about what you want."
"You're being rude."
Ed had to stop himself from laughing, because really, what a fucking hypocrite.
He couldn't give two shits about what the man did or didn't want from him. The only reason he stayed was for Nina and his brother- And god, it was creeping up again, the possibility that he might never get to leave this place.
"It's going to be brutal, being a state alchemist," Tucker sighed. It was warm against Ed's neck and it made him shiver. "I'm sorry for that."
"Yeah," Ed wrapped the blanket tighter around himself and tuned into the static of his mind. He just wanted to get the day over with. He didn't want to be here.
"Are you worried about it?" Tucker asked.
"No."
"Are you looking forward to it?"
"Yeah."
"Stop giving me one-word answers, you're being a bad conversationalist."
Ed didn't respond, choosing instead to shut his eyes, pretend he wasn't there, and take a deep breath in. It was relaxing until he got a big whiff of Tucker's cologne. He was forced back to the present and regretted breathing at all.
Tucker sighed. "Come on, I'm curious."
"I thought I told you the other day to stop pretending you care."
"Edward," Tucker toyed with his hair. Ed had thought about shaving it off a few times, if only to give the man one less thing to touch, but in the end, he'd decided he wanted to keep it. It was something that was his and his alone. It was his choice, his hair, his one last bit of agency. "You're leaving tomorrow. I just want to chat before you go."
"Well I don't."
"Humor me," Tucker sighed. "What have I done wrong? I've been kind to you."
Ed scoffed. "What haven't you done?"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Ed couldn't see Tucker's face, but his tone was dangerous.
Ed chewed on the inside of his lip. That wasn't good. He really shouldn't antagonize the man so much. All it was going to get him was a black eye.
"Never mind," Ed kept his gaze focused on the floor, as if counting panels would ever be enough to distract him fully from how bitter every word that he spoke was, how his eyes stung against his will. "You wouldn't care anyways."
"Edward," Tucker kissed his head. It was chaste and it made him want to disappear even more, shrivel into himself, stop existing altogether, anything to make the man stop. "You're being difficult. Cut it out."
They laid like that for a few more minutes. Tucker's touch was burning him and he had to resist the urge to squirm, to shuck it off. He hated when he had to stay after they were done. He hated how the man held him and pet his hair and acted like he gave a shit. He hated how Tucker would hum over the heavy silence that overtook the room, over the anticipation that stirred in Ed's gut because he knew what was coming and all he could do was wait for it to start again. And there was never, ever anything he could do but keep his mind busy and listen to the seconds that ticked by.
"Are you going to fuck me again or not?" Ed asked after a moment.
"Do you want me to?"
Ed rolled his eyes. How funny! It was almost like he had a choice.
"Just get it over with," Ed snapped.
"Maybe I won't, if you're going to be snarky."
"I'm not being snarky."
"You are, Edward," Tucker huffed. "I just want to enjoy this time with you because I care about you, and you're leaving."
Of course that's what he'd say, because every single little thing was always Ed's fault, wasn't it? He's being difficult because he doesn't want to talk, he's the one who deserved to get hit, he's the one who asked to have sex.
Everything was always, always on him. Every mistake, every minute, stupid detail. He started it by moving in, and he was always saying the wrong thing, or overreacting, or not reacting enough, or being too stand-offish, or being too provocative. Tucker would probably tell him it was his fault the fucking sun rose in the east, if he could find a way to spin it. And the worst part was that Ed would almost be inclined to agree with him.
Tucker really had to hate him, didn't he? Ed knew himself to be callous, selfish, a smart-ass, a whore, but he really wondered how much of this he deserved sometimes. The answer changed depending on his mood, but right now, Ed really just wanted Tucker to shut up about how much he cared, because it was making him want to cry again.
How pathetic.
"No, you don't," Ed's lip quivered. "You hate me."
"I don't."
"Yes you do."
"No," Tucker sighed and pulled him closer. The heat radiated off of the man's body that much more, and it really only made Ed feel worse. His own muscles tensed in response to the sudden touch, to the point that he was almost shaking and it almost hurt, but he didn't dare move, because even breathing felt like he was taking a risk. "I don't."
The words were spoken so softly, and yet with so much conviction. Enough that Ed could almost, almost believe it, if not for the fact that he knew better. Tucker was only being nice so he would stay. He didn't actually care.
Ed wasn't stupid. If the man gave a shit, he wouldn't have threatened Al and Nina's safety so often. That's the line that doesn't get crossed. That's the final straw that makes the argument crumble to the floor, the one thing that nobody should be able to get away with. The standalone action that Ed could look at, objectively, and know was wrong. Because laws were too detached from the situation, and he respected himself before, maybe, but now his pride was placed in a box in the throws of his mind, along with the memories. Ed didn't matter, not nearly as much as his family. And the things Tucker had said about his family were unforgivable.
Ed's heart was pounding staccato rhythms against the cavity of his chest. Each thump sent him closer to the edge. The words he'd wanted to ask so many times were dancing about his mind, towards the tip of his tongue, and before he even realized it, they were out. Slightly cracked as he spoke, the volume broken by stress and the urge to cry, but they were out.
"Tell me why you're doing this."
Tucker chuckled lightly. It was rumbling and low, unperturbed. Ed thinned his lips. This was a serious question that he was honestly afraid to ask, and here the man was, laughing at him.
"You're golden, Edward," Tucker shook his head lightly. "You're so bright, but you know how this started. You wanted help and I gave it to you."
"I never wanted this."
"Yes, you did."
"No," Ed squeezed his eyes shut over the tears that threatened to fall and took a shaky breath in. It was broken by a hiccup that was as pathetic and vulnerable as he felt. "I didn't.
People like to talk about catharsis, how saying things aloud is like taking a weight off your shoulders-
And they're all full of shit. Ed really only felt worse, because now his thoughts were out in the open, and he couldn't act like he was okay with this like he could before. He hadn't been able to for a while, no matter how much he pretended, but something about saying it to Tucker specifically felt like he was selling the last damaged, shattered bits of his soul away.
But he needed to say it. He needed the words out of him, because he was fishing for something here. An apology, repentance, even the smallest hint of guilt, something that he could grab onto and hold close to his chest. Maybe he was deluding himself- Well, actually, he knew he was deluding himself, but he honestly didn't care. He wanted some comfort here, for once in his goddamn life, he wanted to be allowed to be selfish.
Some sincerity. He just wanted the man to show some sincerity.
"The only reason you're here right now is because I bothered to help you," Tucker sighed. He continued to run his fingers through Ed's hair. Ed was starting to wonder if he made a mistake not shaving it off after all. "Do you honestly think anybody else would've put in this amount of effort, Edward? Nobody but me even wanted to adopt you. They never would've kept you around this long."
"I know that," Ed spat. "I'm not fucking stupid, I know that. Stop rubbing it in my face."
"Then why are you upset?"
Ed's mind went blank. He knew why he was upset, but the words were too thick, too heavy to squeeze from his throat. They might've suffocated him if he even tried, so instead he buried his head into his pillow and let out a choked gasp, muffled by the fabric below. Some of the cloth caught in his mouth, and when he smelled Tucker's cologne radiating off of it, he just sobbed harder.
"Don't cry," Tucker shushed him and ran a hand down his back. "It's alright, there's no need to be upset."
"Shut the fuck up!" Ed's head snapped up from where he had buried it in the pillow. His eyebrows were furrowed and his teeth were bared, a feral animal about to lunge, all instinct, all outrage. "You don't give a shit. You never gave a shit! You don't get to try to comfort me right now."
"That's not true-"
"Then why are you doing this? Why do you keep making me do this?"
"I'm not making you do anything," Tucker's voice was steady, like he was reciting facts, leaving no room for argument. The sky is blue. Two plus two is four. You consented, so shut up and do what I want. "You agreed."
"Fuck off."
Ed wiggled his way out from under the man's arm and sat up before he even realized what he was doing. The air hit his exposed body, sent goosebumps up his flesh, but it was still a warmer place to be than Tucker's hold. He stumbled, still-sore, from the bed and began to scour the floor for his boxers before he could give himself the chance to talk himself out of this. He was done for the day. He'd been done. Maybe he'd regret it in the morning, if he ended up having to stay, but for now, he just wanted to take his bath.
His emotions were a frenzy, tearing him up from the inside out, ripping any thought but pure, unhinged rage away from him. He knew he was probably making a mistake right now, but he was so pissed he couldn't force himself to care.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm going back to my room," he spotted his boxers and slid them over his body.
Tucker peeled the blanket off of his chest and stood from the bed. "You don't get to just leave, Edward."
"Oh yeah?" With shaky hands, he slipped his tank-top on. "Watch me."
Tucker sighed. "Stop being a brat and come here."
Ed wiped his tears with his forearm and turned to glare at the man. "We've already done two rounds. I'm done."
Tucker furrowed his eyebrows back at him. "You're finished when I say you're finished. Get over here before I do something I'll regret."
"No."
"Edward," Tucker's tone was dangerous. "You're being irrational. I don't want to have to punish you for this."
Ed crossed his arms. "You'll find a reason to hurt me either way."
"That's not true."
"Isn't it? Because I'm starting to feel like no matter what I do, you find a way to make me regret it," Ed sat down on a nearby chair and aggressively slipped his foot through one of the legs of his pants. His hands were almost shaking too hard to get it on the first try. He kept his glare strong and his voice as even as he could. "I paid your price, every time you asked, every time you dragged me away from my brother and into here. I don't owe you anything."
"You came to me," Tucker pursed his lips. "You came to my door begging for insurance that I wouldn't kick you out and I gave it to you. You don't get to be angry at me for your decisions, Edward."
"Yeah," Ed laughed and ran a shaky hand through his hair, before gripping the strands hard enough to hurt. "Yeah, I did. I came to you, and I trusted you, and I hate myself for it every goddamn day."
"I gave you what you wanted," Tucker set his jaw. "And you know you enjoyed it."
"You are such a liar," Ed stared at him with wide, incredulous eyes. His voice was hysteric, almost entertained, because there were too many emotions right now, and he didn't know where else to put them. "All the fucking time, that's all you do, isn't it? You lie, and you- you manipulate, and you take what you want without giving a single thought to anybody else."
Tucker wouldn't ever take responsibility, would he? Ed paid his debts, he had the sex, he shut his mouth and he took it. He did what was asked of him, he'd been here for hours , and it wasn't fucking fair. He was leaving tomorrow. He was supposed to be leaving tomorrow, but he still might have to stay, and put up with this for the rest of his life.
No matter what Ed did, it was never enough. He still came back here, day after day, and it never stopped. It was a constant loop, a never ending cycle of misery and fear and pain. And Tucker wouldn't acknowledge it, what he was doing, even now. He still pretended that it was for Ed's sake, that it was okay, and it wasn't. It wasn't okay. He wasn't okay. None of this was fucking okay.
"You were supposed to be my step-father," Ed whispered. "You were supposed to be there for Al and I. You were supposed to care about me."
"I do care about you, Edward."
"Only when I shut up and bend over," Ed spat. "You don't care. You never did. The only reason you even keep me around is so you can fuck me."
"You're being dramatic," Tucker sighed and shook his head. "You're in one of your moods again. Cut it out."
"You had sex with me," Ed's voice was laced with disgust. He curled his upper lip. He'd known it, he'd known how gross it was, but something about speaking it out loud made his gut churn, made tears sting his eyes, made his throat tight. "Almost every day. And I let you do it."
"Yes, Edward. I was there."
"You took my virginity," Ed stared down at his hands and his breaths grew more erratic. He vaguely recognized the heaviness in his chest, the tears that rolled down his cheeks and hit his thighs as he sat. They trailed down his flesh, over the bruises and on to the floor, and he watched them hit the ground with a growing sense of distress. "And you don't even care, do you?" His eyes snapped up to meet Tucker's. "You couldn't care less, could you?"
Tucker crossed his arms, and he looked bored. Like somehow, Ed's emotions weren't worth a second thought. Like the fact that he was being torn apart from the inside out somehow didn't matter, beyond how entertaining it was to watch. "You agreed to it."
"I didn't have a choice! I- I fucking hate you," Ed sobbed. "I hope you know that."
"Edward-"
"Why can't you just admit that you wanted to hurt me?" Ed cut him off. "Why won't you just say you're sorry?"
Tucker scowled. "We had a deal."
"The deal was bullshit and you know it."
"Really?" Tucker scoffed. "And why is that?"
The anger was outweighing the fear, right now, but Tucker's tone still left a shake in his knees. Still made him wish time would stop long enough for him to calm down and escape. The seconds were passing in a frenzy that made Ed want to shut off until it was all over, and yet they moved far too fast as well. Almost as fast as his thoughts, which were almost as fast as his mouth, because his emotions were on war's path right now and he just wanted Tucker to understand that.
"Because you threatened to kick us out if I didn't! You think I said yes because I wanted to? I didn't even know what sex was before I met you!" Ed's voice grew softer, and he swallowed. "You took my virginity. Why don't you feel bad about that? Why can't you just care?"
"If you're wanting an apology, you're not going to get one, Edward," Tucker narrowed his eyes. "You said yes. So stop being irrational and come here before I make you."
"Fuck you! I'm going to my room," Ed slipped his last pant leg up and stood, throwing his arm out to push Tucker from his path as he stormed towards the door.
He just wanted to go see his brother. He just wanted to talk to Al. He just wanted to take his bath, and lay down, and not have to think about any of this.
"Edward," Tucker barked. Or maybe snarled, or fucking- something, but all Ed knew in that moment was the rush of anger that was coursing through him. He vaguely realized that he should probably be scared right now, but he should've done a lot of things different in his life, so who gives a fuck about his safety anyways? "You're not allowed to leave yet, I have something I need to talk to you about."
Ed ignored him and kept walking. The door was a foot or two away, now, and he knew he'd feel better once there was some distance. Even if it was an artificial protection, he always calmed down when there was space between him and other people.
Tucker sighed. "I know you've been going through my things."
Everything halted at once. His emotions, his body, his brain, and he noticed he'd stopped in place, his hand on the doorknob. Sweat trickled down his neck and it was almost distracting enough that he could focus on it, and not the impending realization that he was kinda fucked.
"I don't know what you're talking about," Ed said.
"Did you really think I wouldn't notice documents have gone missing?" Ed's back was still turned to the man, so he couldn't see his face, but his tone alone was enough to bring back unpleasant memories. "Important documents. Care to explain?"
Ed kept his gaze glued to the door, as if it would give him a good excuse if he begged with his eyes. It didn't. He kept his hand on the knob, his mind clear aside from the thought that he needed to get out of here right now. "That sucks, you should keep better track of your stuff."
"Was it you or was it Alphonse?"
"I don't know what you're talking about."
"Be honest, Edward."
Ed turned to look at the man, trying to ignore how fast his heart was racing, trying to keep himself from shaking. Any sign he was fibbing could be used as ammo against him, though it felt like he had long since been shot at this point. There was a bullet in his chest the second he got too sloppy. He really should've replaced those files earlier and he was mentally kicking himself for being an idiot.
It was really starting to set in, now, that he'd just talked back to Tucker. That never meant anything good. Ed had been digging his own grave for the past two minutes, and logically, he knew that. But the fear was actually setting in, now that he'd been forced to pause, and the anger seemed a lot less important. He should've stayed in bed. He should've just taken another round and gotten over himself. He was only making this worse, wasn't he?
He hadn't even gotten a real answer. He'd just yelled and made everything worse. He always just seemed to fucking make everything worse.
"I honestly don't know what the hell you're talking about," Ed said anyways, because he had already committed to his story, and if he was anything, it was stubborn.
"You're a bad liar."
"I'm going to my room."
"I'll tell the brass about the transmutation if you don't tell me the truth."
Nevermind, he hadn't just been shot in the chest. This was an active firing squad.
Ed scowled, debated his options, and then took a deep breath.
"Fine," Ed crossed his arms. "So what if I was?"
"Those are my things, Edward," Tucker stared from where he stood a few feet away, but with the way his gaze bore into Ed, it felt more like there was no space between them at all. "Tell me why."
Ed tried his best to be rational, to not shut down, but the way that Tucker was glaring at him right now really did make his throat tight. He swallowed. There was really no good way to spin this, but if Tucker was going to go into this full steam ahead, he couldn't fold. Not right now. He needed to be smart about this, maybe even spin it in a way that could get him what he needed too.
"You know," Ed started, feeling a little more like a cornered animal lashing out one last time than he did moments before- Actually, he realized he was deluding himself again. That was exactly what had been happening this entire time. "I've searched for days, and I can't find any trace of Nina's mom from after you two split. Why's that?"
Tucker set his jaw, and Ed's knees felt a little weaker in response. "You shouldn't stick your nose in places it doesn't belong."
"Why not?"
"It's a good way to get hurt, Edward."
"So you are hiding something?"
"I never said that."
Ed leveled his glare. "Did she really abandon Nina, Tucker? Or did you lie about that too?"
There was silence, for a moment. Silence filled with nothing but Tucker's cold, calculating gaze and the sound of Ed's quickening heart, which mingled with the familiar static that told him none of this was actually real. That any second he'd wake up and he'd be safe again.
"You have no proof that I turned her into the chimera," Tucker took a step forward. His eyes darted towards the dresser next to Ed, then the door behind him, and then back again. He was an animal stalking prey, a cat revving up for launch. His strides were methodical, threatening, a promise to make the next few minutes hurt, and they spiked the adrenaline in Ed's veins. "It's just like everything else, nobody would believe you."
"That you what?" Ed's eyes widened. "What the hell are you talking about?"
He stared on, for a moment, his brain mulling over the words, and he almost laughed, because seriously, what was he talking about?
But then something shifted.
And the first thing that hit him was shock.
Empty, null shock. Ed had thought the man had threatened her into going off the grid, maybe scared her out of the country, but-
Tucker's words left him reeling. There really wasn't another word to describe the emotion that went over him at that second, the crashing of information that seemed to overload his mind and body both at once. He had to be joking, right? That wasn't very funny.
But with the way that Tucker was scowling, all knit eyebrows, squared shoulders, mouth sewn tight, so tight that the words were strained to reach Ed's ears, or maybe Ed wasn't hearing anything at all, because his brain was shutting down, and yet-
Ed knew he was serious.
And so, the second thing that hit him was understanding. Cold, clear understanding, because everything snapped together in an instant. He should've known. He should've known the second he realized there was no trace of Lillian, the moment he called her family and they said they hadn't heard from her in two years. He'd been fooling himself, living in fantasies, so desperate for a way out that he wouldn't look at the truth right in front of him. So desperate for someone to come get Nina that he refused to accept reality.
Of course a human chimera could talk. It was logical, really, he knew enough about biology to understand how you could fuse people and animals to-
Bile crawled up his throat at the very thought.
Tucker used his wife. He used his wife. Ed's brain couldn't process it, no matter how many times the words echoed in his ears, no matter how many things suddenly made sense. Ed had always known, on a logical level, that he was an asshole. That Tucker didn't care about Al or him, and Ed wondered sometimes if Tucker even really gave a damn about Nina, but on an emotional level, Ed wanted him to be a decent person in the end. He wanted none of the threats to actually mean anything, he wanted them to just be that- Empty words to scare Ed into doing what he wanted.
Ed had somehow almost convinced himself that the man was a bad step-father, but perhaps a decent person.
And the illusion came tumbling down. The smoke cleared from the mirrors and the past three months of Ed's life reflected back at him. The image was painful and shattered and fucking hell, the bags under his eyes and the bruises on his body gained a whole new level of meaning. They were stark against too pale, ashen skin that was once tanned from the sun's warmth, sticking out like a sore thumb and shredding every inch of his being in the realization that Tucker didn't care. He couldn't care. There wasn't any humanity left in him, you couldn't do something like that and be a person, much less a decent person. Much less a step-father, or a supporting figure, or anything but a horrible mess of something fucking monstrous.
It was so clear, everything seemed so clear, and yet it made so little sense.
Ed couldn't tell if he was shaking from the fear, or the lividity. But he was frozen in place, he vaguely realized he was frozen in place, but it was kind of hard to tell, because everything was spinning. His emotions, his mind, his memories, all forming the crescendo of blood, which roared in his ears. It was so loud that it nearly drowned everything else out, but-
The lividity won over the fear. It was definitely the outrage that made him tremble. That made his eyes sting, his breath catch, his mind form words as quickly as it could without short-circuiting completely.
"You fucking what."
Tucker's eyes widened by a marginal degree. And Ed may have found that funny, because he finally understood the 'deer in the headlights' expression that people talk about, if not for the fact that he was a dangerous mix between furious and very, very scared right now.
"Oh," Tucker's expression was back to indifference. The change was so sudden it was almost jarring, like the heat of emotion had seeped out at once. It left behind something cold, void. There really was nothing under the surface, no great remorse that the man held. "I assumed that you knew."
"You fucking bastard, she was your wife!"
"Yes," Tucker frowned. "She was."
"Are you fucking insane? You-you actually-" Ed cut himself off.
His mind was still reeling, seconds later. Still filling in details, still playing catch up, but his body knew terror when it felt it. His hands were trembling, useless by his side, and he barely realized he was backing away until his body was flush with the door, crammed between the dresser and the corner.
"Nina doesn't have a mother because of you," Ed swallowed around the lump in his throat. "You're fucking horrible. She was a person. You used a person."
"You're just as bad as me, Edward," Tucker took another step forward, his eyes darting between Ed and the dresser. "You're only here because you committed the taboo. We've both done horrible things."
"You turned your wife into a chimera. "
"You're the same, trying to bring back your mother-"
"Don't stand there and try to justify your bullshit to me, Tucker!" Ed regained awareness of his rationality, and he fumbled for the door handle behind him. His breaths were shallow and fleeting, his whole body running on fear and instinct alone. He needed to get out of here. He couldn't stay after this, it wasn't safe for him and it wasn't safe for Nina, or Al, or anyone. "You're fucking crazy."
His hand hit the doorknob and he gave it a sharp turn.
It was locked. He jangled it again, more frantically, but it still wouldn't give. He tried again, casting his gaze towards it, desperate in every movement. Every flick of his wrist, every way his eyes darted downwards.
It wouldn't open, but he didn't have time to spare, so Ed brought his hands together, ready to clap, ready to deconstruct this entire fucking house if that what it took to get out of here-
But in the time he looked away, Tucker lunged at him and flung the drawer to the dresser open. Before Ed could finish, Tucker pulled something out, and-
There was a barrel in Ed's face.
Ed really wasn't able to register anything else, at that moment. He wasn't able to take in how much his legs were shaking, or how his cheeks were still damp. Tucker's furrowed eyebrows, his wide eyes, slightly crazed- no, definitely crazed. Nothing but black metal, slightly shining, very deadly, a quick end to his life, and it stared him in the eyes, between the eyes. A pistol, he realized. The man had a pistol, hidden in his room, and it was pointed at Ed's face right now.
He really should've done a better job searching when he'd gone through the man's things. He should've just sucked it up after he found the pictures and kept looking. Because now there was a weapon pointed at him, and he could've avoided it if he'd been smarter. God, he felt so fucking stupid.
"Drop your hands, Edward."
What the fuck was happening? Ed wasn't sure, no part of him was able to wrap his brain around anything at that moment. It was all unreal. Nothing felt real. He swallowed, and he lowered his hands, but his eyes stayed firmly glued to the pistol.
"Good."
"What are you doing?" Ed's voice was soft as he spoke, disbelieving. "Why do you have a-"
Tucker brought the gun down. Ed's eyes widened, and he was aware of himself just long enough to catch how dumb he was, letting his body tense like this, giving Tucker an opening- He needed to move, dammit!
A sharp pain echoed through his head, and before Ed got the chance, everything went dark.