Edward didn't want to show up for work, didn't want to chance seeing Roy…but it was his job, he didn't have much of a choice.
He tried to be inconspicuous, keeping his gaze lowered, his hands in his pockets…but sure enough, Ed had barely entered the building when Lieutenant Hawkeye cornered him.
"Edward Elric!" Ed winced, and turned towards her voice, relieved to see the woman hadn't pulled out her gun yet. "Where have you been these past few days?"
Edward couldn't think of a response fast enough. Hawkeye grabbed his arm, turning him around…towards the door to that bastard's office. Ed scowled.
"Come on, you'll have to report to the Colonel."
Oh hell no. Edward wrenched himself out of her grasp and spat, "No fucking way."
Falman, who had been sitting quietly at his desk, looked up in shock. Sure, everyone knew that Ed was perpetually testy with the Colonel, but this was ferocity to a frightening degree.
Hawkeye was also surprised, but responded by pulling her gun out. "Ed," she warned.
Edward stood, feet braced. "Shoot me if you want, I am not dealing with that jackass."
At that moment, Ed saw Breda and Havoc enter behind the Lieutenant, and his scowl deepened.
Havoc walked over, and nudged Edward away from the standoff, towards another hallway. "We'll talk to him Lieutenant, he's just a bit riled up is all."
"A bit—" Ed began, only to be cut off by Breda's hand slapping over his mouth. After a long pause, Hawkeye nodded and walked away.
The two older men half dragged Edward into the hall, pushing him into an empty room and closing the door. In any other situation, this would have looked suspicious, but if anyone was in danger it was Havoc and Breda.
As soon as they released him, Ed was yelling. "Fucking hell, let me out! I'm here, aren't I, isn't that good enough?"
Havoc and Breda glanced at each other. "Ed," the latter began, "we're really sorry about what happened."
Edward pulled at his hair, frustration coloring his face in splotches. He had half a mind to murder someone. "Why the hell does everyone think an apology is going to make this okay? You made a bet with that jackass that he would fuck me—"
"No," Havoc interrupted, backing away slightly in the face of the young man's fury. "We made a bet that the Colonel would have to fuck a man. We had no idea he would choose you…honestly, we never meant for this to happen."
Ed stood there, seething for a moment before his anger abruptly ran out. He walked a few paces to stare out the window. "I know," he sighed. "I know. I shouldn't be angry with you. I just—" he broke off, looking for the words. "I could kill him," he finally whispered.
Breda tried again. "Ed, we understand—"
"No," Edward insisted, spinning around. "You don't."
Neither Breda nor Havoc could think of a way to break the uncomfortable silence. Finally, Ed let out a short huff. "Look, I'm at work, I'm functioning, I'm doing everything I'm supposed to. Just leave me alone."
Shouldering past the two men, Edward collected himself. He would go to the library—that was still working, researching, so no one could fault him, and it should help him concentrate on something else, anything besides that bastard.
Having successfully made it to his private room in the library (which has cost him a fortune, but was well worth it), Ed allowed himself to relax, to deflate just a little. Moodily, he grabbed the first volume that caught his eye off the shelf, sitting in the chair to settle down and read. Somehow, this didn't feel natural, didn't feel quite right. Edward stood up, and instead situated himself on the floor, in the corner.
That was good. The position mirrored how he felt—trapped, small, insignificant…
Edward hastily closed the door on that train of thought, flipping through the pages of his alchemy book. There must be something in there to distract him…
Nearly an hour later, nothing had captured his attention. Ed was almost glad for the knock on the door.
Alphonse entered the room, his bulk taking up the majority of the available space. His eyes searched, before landing on Edward in the corner. "Brother," he sighed. "What are you doing?"
"I'm studying, Al. What does it look like?"
"Brother, I was just at Headquarters." Edward felt his face burning, and looked down at his book once more. It was so absurd that his younger brother could make him feel like a child about to get a lecture. "Look, I know you're hurt, and I'm not going to lie, I'd love to smack the Colonel myself, but you really need to talk about it—"
"Been there, done that, wasn't worth it," Ed said shortly. He didn't want to talk about this, didn't want to think about any of it. Sleep sounded good, except that he would probably dream about this shit, too.
"Brother!" Alphonse insisted. "You can't just fight about it for forever, maybe he really does feel bad, you should at least—"
Edward shot upright, face contorted. "Shut up!" he screamed. "Shut up, Alphonse! You have no idea—I'm not fighting about anything. But I don't want to have anything to do with that jackass anymore, I'm done, and I hope he feels bad, I hope he rots with guilt." Al tried to interrupt. "I don't own him anything either, and if you feel that sympathetic towards him you can go comfort the son of a bitch."
Alphonse stood silently, and briefly Ed was overcome with a desire to take back his words, but it was too late. Al spun, his metal creaking, and walked out the door.
Edward let himself fall to his knees on the floor. Try as he might, he just couldn't contain his emotions, and a few tears leaked out even as he covered his face with his hands.
A knock. Roy was too tired to deal with this—plus he had managed to avoid being seen so far, and he wasn't eager to face anyone, not with the bruise growing on his cheek where Ed had punched him.
Another knock, this one more insistent. Well, at the very least, it couldn't be Lieutenant Hawkeye; she wouldn't be this patient with him. Roy sighed.
"Enter," he called, ducking his head and keeping his eyes focused on the paperwork before him.
"Boss, you've got a serious problem."
Oh. It was Havoc, and—a quick glance upward through his bangs—Breda. Roy frowned slightly. "What do you mean?"
Breda snorted. "C'mon, you know what we're talking about. Edward."
At the mention of the boy's name, a queasy feeling struck Roy, an odd ache in his chest. Even if he had formulated a response, he would not have been able to force it past the lump in his throat.
After a short pause, Havoc continued. "You really hurt him, Boss. You know that, don't you?"
"Yes," Roy whispered, immediately coughing to clear his voice. Even with all that had happened, he hated to sound so weak in front of his subordinates. "But what am I supposed to do?"
"Talk to him?" Breda suggested, as though it was the simplest thing in the world.
Finally, Roy looked up from his desk. Both of his men gasped at the angry wound on his cheek. "I tried," he muttered, "and somehow I just made it worse. I know he's hurt, and I really do feel awful…but he just doesn't trust me. He doesn't believe me. I don't know what else to do."
The door opened, and Roy was about to shout at the newcomer before he saw it was Alphonse. "You need to apologize, again," the boy instructed, as though he had not just entered the conversation. "And if Brother won't let you talk to him—which he won't, he almost hit me just for suggesting that a few minutes ago—you need to find some other way to do it."
Roy looked at the three people standing before him, mulling it over. An idea struck him, a stupid, almost romantic idea, but he would take it. "Alphonse, is your dorm empty?"
Al nodded.
"Excellent. Cover for me with the Lieutenant, won't you?"
Havoc grinned. "Sure. We'll tell her you're in the men's room having a terrible time."
Roy glared at the man, putting a finger to his lips as he transmuted a door in the side of his office and slipped out.
Wah sorry for the boring chapter, but it was necessary to set up for the next few-which will be much more exciting, I promise!