Chapter 10: Thirty-Five Hours
Gracia Hughes watched her husband out of the corner of her eye, as she formed the rolls that she was making to go with their dinner of chef salad and her grandmother's stew. Usually Maes would be playing with their daughter, Elicia, at this time, but this evening they were having guests and she had had him put a very fussy Elicia to bed early for the night. Their girl would surely wake them up before the sun rose tomorrow, but it was a small price to pay for peace tonight.
Watching her husband pace about their apartment, nervously wringing his hand as he did so, comforted Gracia that she had made the right choice in having him put their daughter to bed early. Tonight was important to Maes.
"You're going to wear a hole in the carpet." Gracia laughed, as her husband came to a stop and turned to look at her from the living room. She smiled gently at the affection for her that she saw in his eyes. "They'll arrive when they arrive. You know how Roy is, dear."
Maes let out a tense breath and adjusted his glasses. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
Gracia nodded to the dining table, an instruction that needed no elaboration.
As Gracia finished placing the rolls in a pre-buttered baking pan, Maes set the table for five and popped the cork on a bottle of wine – an aged Cabernet Sauvignon.
"What do you think the boys will want to drink?" Gracia asked and headed over to the fridge, after having placed the rolls in the oven and washed the flour and dough from between her fingers.
"Roy will probably offer them some of the wine," Maes said bitterly and scowled at the wine bottle that he'd placed on the table only a moment before.
Gracia sighed. "He will do no such thing. You know him to be better than that," she attempted to reassure him. "He knows that they're minors and that they can't be exempt from every age restriction. Maes, it's like you said: the SAC Exam is alchemy and –"
"– we can't attempt to understand what we've no understanding of, alchemists' reasoning when it comes to things related to alchemy in particular," Maes finished for his wife and shook his head. "You haven't seen the way that he acts about these boys, Gracia. I'm not even sure how to describe it. If I didn't know Roy like I do, I'd say he's gone paternal on us. He's protective of them, believes he's the only one – outside of the brothers themselves – who should have any say in their futures, and checks up on them like clockwork, even standing up to Riza to keep his appointments with them."
Gracia pursed her lips. Roy standing up to Riza was news to her and more than just a bit shocking.
"The other day I heard him tell her to go ahead and shoot him, if she was going to shoot, because at least then he'd have a legitimate excuse for being late," Maes continued, looking as if he could still hardly believe it himself. "I'm telling you something isn't right. He's not acting like himself. The Roy I know wouldn't be pulling these kids into the Military. He wouldn't step up and take responsibility of another living being in the way he is doing with these boys. He has enough trouble looking after himself for crying out loud." In a slightly softer voice, he added, "He wouldn't ever place anyone above Riza. He just wouldn't."
"Roy's originally from the East, right?" Gracia asked, a sudden thought hitting her.
Maes nodded. "What are you thinking?"
"Edward is twelve and he's the oldest?" Gracia asked, instead of answering her husband's question. The pieces were forming together and beginning to paint a worrying picture from all that Maes had ever told her about Roy and his interactions with the Elric brothers.
"Edward is twelve. Alphonse is eleven," Maes confirmed, and even as he spoke the boys' ages, his face contorted with horror – understanding of what his wife was insinuating striking him just as it had struck her. "No," he denied outright. "He couldn't be. Roy … a … a …" He shook his head vigorously. "Surely not!"
"We both know how Roy is with women, Maes," Gracia said softly. "Fourteen wouldn't have been too young for him to have –"
"They don't look anything like him," Maes protested, before grimacing. "Okay, so maybe a little, but they don't have his coloring."
"So they got their coloring from their mother." Gracia did her best not to appear as concerned by the prospect of Roy being a father as her husband. Roy Mustang, a father. It just didn't set right in the mind. She suddenly felt an large dose of pity for Edward and Alphonse. Roy wasn't a cruel man, but he was far from being open with his affections. And if what she and her husband knew of Roy's life was correct, he'd not been at all present in their lives until a year ago. Now he's bring them into the Military and setting himself up to be their commanding officer. Oh, Roy, what are you think? There are better ways of keeping them close.
"Their mother was Trisha Elric and she ..." Maes trailed off, seemingly speaking to himself. "What am I even talking about?" he demanded furiously of the empty air before him. "He as good as wrote their history! They're probably not even from Resemboool! There last name probably isn't even Elric! That's right it's Mustang!"
As her husband returned to his pacing, all the while continuing his rant to himself, Gracia glanced down the hall back towards Elicia's room. She hoped that Maes would remember to keep his voice down, as getting Elicia to go to sleep a second time was always more difficult than getting her to go to bed initially. Well, tonight shall be interesting.
–
Al walked hurriedly behind his brother and Colonel Mustang, doing his best not to laugh and to keep up with Ed's charging pace.
"Shut up, Al," Ed said between clenched teeth, not even turning back to look at his brother, as they made their way up to the second floor of Lieutenant Colonel Hughes's building.
Al grinned, his amusement clawing at his throat and very close to escaping. The look on his brother's face … it had been priceless. He was going to remember it forever.
"Ah, lighten up, Ed," Mustang teased with a shit-eating grin on his face and doing absolutely nothing to hide his own amusement at Ed's expense. "At least she didn't mistake you for being a little girl."
"YOU WANNA GO, YOU BASTARD?" Ed screeched and spun around to face Mustang, disregarding that stairs were far from the best place for a fight. "I'LL SHOW YOU WHO CRIES LIKE A MICRO-BEAN SIZED GIRL WHEN MY AUTOMAIL FIST MEETS YOUR UGLY FACE!"
"You don't need to prove your femininity to me, Ed," Mustang replied smoothly, while side-stepping around a very red faced Edward Elric. "I already know you hit like a girl. I don't need you crying about it. And you really shouldn't call yourself a micro-bean. It's misleading. A nano-bean, now that is far more accurate."
"BASTARD!"
Al caught his brother's jacket with his automail left hand and braced his right leg against the edge of the next stair up, effectively halting Ed's attack and nearly being jerk off balance for his effort. He rolled his eyes. Brother is so predictable.
"Let go, Al," Ed demanded, attempting to shake off Al's grip.
"You can't hit him, brother," Al said. "He's going to be our commanding officer."
"But he isn't yet!" Ed clapped his hands. Alchemy flashed across his palms and lit the stairs with a blue hue.
Mustang barked a laugh and withdrew his gloved hand from his pocket. "Bring it on, punk."
"Colonel! ED!" Al yelled, his eyes going wide as Ed lunged to slam his palms to the stairs and Mustang poised his fingers to snap. In the ensuing chaos, a fire ball erupted over Ed and Al's heads, only just missing them, at the same time that the stairs smoothed out into a slick slide and all three alchemist were sent skidding back down to the first floor. Ed and Al ended up on their asses with Mustang landing on top on them, knocking all three of them over and laying them out flat on the stone tile floor of the apartment building's entrance hall.
It only took a second for the shock to wear off and uncontrollable laughter to erupt from the two blond boys and dark haired man.
–
The cocking of a gun earned Mustang's attention almost immediately. His mirth died on his lips, as he looked up to find his best friend, Maes Hughes, looking down at him from over the second floor banister with a strange glint in his eyes and his pistol in hand, though the gun was thankfully not pointed at him or the boys, but directly up in the air.
"My precious Elicia is sleeping, you jackals." Hughes narrowed his eyes dangerously at the three alchemists. He sniffed the air and scanned his gaze over the stairs turned slide pointedly. He raised an eyebrow at Mustang.
Mustang smirked. "Ed, clean up your mess."
"You clean it up, bastard," Ed grumbled, while shoving at Mustang's back, as the man was still partially on top of him. "You started it."
"So I did," Mustang agreed, after taking a moment to consider if Ed was actually right this time. He pushed himself up and turned to offer each Elric a hand. He received two automail grips on his flesh and he pulled the two upright. "Still," he continued, looking at a now standing, though somewhat rumpled Ed, "you're the one who transmuted the stairs."
"Yeah, yeah." Ed waved unconcernedly and approached the slide that he'd created. He clapped his hands and slammed them down against the smooth wood surface. Alchemy crackled in the air and the stairs returned to their previous state in a matter of seconds. "Happy?" he asked, tilting his head back and around to look at Mustang – a cocky grin plastered on his face.
"Thrilled," Mustang said dryly.
"Eh, could have been better, brother," Al commented and pretended to exam his brother's work. "Like right here," he pointed to a place on the second to last rung that looked absolutely no different to any other part of the stairs and clearly had nothing wrong with it. He clucked his tongue with disapproval. "I expect better from you, brother," he said with mock disappointment.
Ed slapped him up side the head with his flesh hand. "I'll let you do it next time," he threaten.
Al stuck his tongue out at him.
"Come on, I'm sure Gracia is wondering what the commotion was all about," Mustang said, ushering the brothers back onto the stairs. He grinned at his best friend, attempting to lighten the bespectacled man's mood, as they passed Hughes to enter the man's apartment. A hand catching his arm prevented him from entering the apartment and greeting Gracia with the boys. "Hughes."
"Were you ever going to tell me?" Hughes demanded, searching his friend's face with hurt visible on his own.
"Tell you what?" Mustang asked, confused.
Hughes's face closed off. "You damn well know what. And let me tell you this, Roy, bring those boys into the Military won't make up for shit and is no way of doing right by them," he said in a low, furious whisper. "It's moments like the one you just had with them that you should be giving them."
"You really want to do this tonight?" Mustang demanded, hardly believing Hughes was already at his throat and they hadn't even had dinner yet. Hell, he hadn't even set foot inside the man's apartment.
"Monday is coming down to being just hours away," Hughes stressed. "They'll be making the biggest mistake of their lives. You know it. It doesn't matter, Roy, if they think they know what they want and what exactly it is that they're signing up for. They can't comprehend what they're asking for in becoming State Alchemists, not fully. You can tell them 'no'. You can call this off. That's your right, Roy. Allowing them to do this won't undo the first decade of their lives."
Mustang shifted uneasily, as he replayed his friends initial question and the man's following words in his mind. He couldn't have learned of their past, he tried to assure himself. There were all of six people who knew of the brother's attempt at human transmutation and all of them would protect the truth to their dying breath. "I haven't a clue what your talking about, Hughes."
"I'm sure you don't," Hughes said with heavy sarcasm and regarded Mustang with a skeptical look. "Let me ask you this, what are you going to feel when you have one, if not both of those boys' blood on your hands? Do you think you'll still believe that allowing them to become State Alchemists was worth it?"
"If they can make even the slightest difference and live with pride in their work," Mustang said without falter and absolute conviction, "then there is nothing that wouldn't be worth it."
Hughes stepped around his friend and shut the door to his apartment, giving his wife a meaningful look across their living room in the process. Once the door clicked shut and he and Mustang were alone in the hall, he round on his friend with angry eyes.
Mustang narrowed his eyes at Hughes in return. Just how many times are we going to have this argument? He was completely thrown off guard by Hughes grabbing him with two fist at his collar and spinning him around and shoving him back against the hallway wall. A startled breath left his lungs with the impact. "What the fuck do you –"
"I realize you have issues, Roy," Hughes said bluntly with a harsh, unforgiving edge. His face was mere inches from Mustang's own, as he seemed to tower over the slightly short man. "You were orphaned young and grew up without any true understanding of family, Berthold Hawkeye did a number on you when you were a teenager, Ishval nearly destroyed you right out of the academy, and you've kept your nose to the grindstone, chasing your ambitions ever since. I understand, Roy. I really do. It's easier to remain focused on a single goal and shut out everything else. I've allow you to carry on as you have, because I thought you'd come out of it in your own time. But you've got to pull yourself together. Stop thinking like a god damn alchemist for once and think about those boys and what is truly best for them. If you really want to be their father and make up for the years you've missed, don't let them go through with the Exam on Monday. I'm telling you, it is the biggest mistake any of you will ever make."
Mustang went from absolutely livid to stunned into silence. His mouth opened with protest, yet no sound came out. Just as his jaw and vocal cords attempted to work to no effect, his brain shuttered and froze with his every attempt to wrap his mind around Hughes's words. Father … their father … he thinks … no, no, no … Me? Ed and Al's father? … Is he insane?
"I'm not," Mustang managed to get out finally.
"You're not going to let them take the Exam on Monday. Excellent," Hughes said, not letting up on his friend in the least. "I knew you'd make the –"
"No, you idiot!" Mustang gave Hughes a hard shove, causing the taller man to stumble back away from him. "I'm not their … father," he said somewhat awkwardly, before yelling with all the frustration and anger that he felt at the moment, "Just where in the hell did you get that conclusion from?"
Hughes studied his once more livid friend closely. "You're really not their father?"
"No!" Roy bellowed, red faced and looking very much like he desired to incinerate the man before him.
"Well, you certainly act like you are," Hughes said without thinking. The flames barely missed him, as his eyes bugged out of his head and he was forced to dive to his right.
–
Ed shifted uneasily in his seat and glanced over at his brother. Mustang and Hughes's disagreement out in the hall had woken Elicia, and Gracia had gone to calm the baby down, leaving him and Al alone at the dining table.
Al winced, an action mirrored by Ed, at hearing the distinct snap of the colonel's flames igniting beyond the closed door of the apartment. "I wonder what Hughes said to make him so mad."
"I'm not going to ask," Ed said serious, his self-preservation much too high to deliberately incite the colonel's wrath. He and Mustang wound each other up all the time and that was fine, but to have Mustang actually pissed at him wasn't something that he thought wise, though he understood it to be an inevitability. He and Al would be working under the colonel soon and they were bound to mess up sooner rather than later. Mustang chewing them out and threatening to set them alight was all part of the job description, or so 2nd Lieutenant Havoc had said.
Ed and Al listened intently, as the muffled yelling between the two men continued for perhaps a minute more. At last, the hall went quite. The brothers exchanged nervous looks, before affixing their gazes expectantly on the door. Whatever the disagreement had been about, the two officers had settled it for the time being.
"Not a word," they heard Mustang growl at Hughes, as the men entered the apartment looking worse for wear.
Hughes grinned. "My lips are sealed."
Mustang shot him a nasty look, one that slipped right off his face as his eyes came to rest on the brothers.
"So, I hear you went to the Fall Symphony last night," Hughes said with an easy air, as he claimed his seat at the head of the table and Mustang took the seat across from Ed and Al.
"We did," Al confirmed.
"What'd you think?" Hughes asked, while pouring him and Mustang each a glass of wine. Gracia had already served the brothers a white grape juice.
"It was good," Ed said, before adding with excitement, "really good actually. The way the music flowed – all the individual notes coming together as a series of master pieces and each master piece moving effortlessly into the next to become the entirety of the symphony – was remarkable and very powerful. If only we alchemist could figure out a way to sustain our transmutations over time like that. The possibilities would be endless! Perhaps the secret lies in the individual notes feeding into each other and informing the next series of notes, which in turn inform the next master piece to be played. If we could work single purpose transmutations to –"
Mustang laughed at the bewildered frown that appeared on Hughes's face.
"Right," Ed said, his face heating the slightest bit at realizing he'd been rambling. "It was good."
Al chuckled as well.
"Are you boys ready to eat?" Gracia interrupted before anything more could be said.
–
The evening passed pleasantly. Any time that the State Alchemists Certification Exam was brought up, Mustang or Hughes would change the subject, both men sharing looks that told of an unfinished conversation regarding the matter. As the evening wore on and desert was enjoyed, Ed and Al took a great liking to Maes and Gracia Hughes, finding the two parents to be genuine, loving people, who both cared a lot for not only each other and their small family but about Colonel Mustang as well.
"Just call me Uncle Maes," Hughes said, after Al had called him Lieutenant Colonel for the twentieth time that night.
Mustang sputtered and very nearly choked on his wine, all the while glaring accusingly at Hughes.
"Are you all right, Roy?" Gracia asked with concern.
"Ex-excuse me." Mustang stood from the table.
Ed narrowed his eyes after the man with suspicion, as the colonel retreated towards the bathroom.
"He'll be fine," Hughes said positively and shared a knowing look with his wife. "He just has a few things on his mind tonight is all."
"I hope he's okay," Al said softly, glancing at the closed bathroom door. "The last year or so has been pretty rough on him …" he spoke so quietly that the Hughes had to strain their ears to hear what he said and only Ed was able to hear him clearly, as he was sitting right next to Al.
Ed heard the 'and its our fault' in his brother's voice all too clearly. "The colonel made his choice the same as we did, Al," he reminded his brother in a low whisper that matched the volume Al had used. "He won't let us down and we won't let him down, not now. Just one more week and we're home free."
"Hmm," Al hummed his agreement and met Ed's gaze with understanding. They were in it together, all taking the same risk and hoping for the same reward. Victory was so close that each of them could very nearly taste it.
When Mustang rejoined the table, Ed grinned mischievously. "Didn't know you were such a lush, Colonel. What's the matter, can't handle your wine?"
"Edward," Gracia began chidingly, but fell quiet at the smirk that appeared on Mustang's face.
"Like you could do better, Ed." Mustang's smirk deepened. "With your stature, a sip would be all it would take to do you in."
"Who are you calling a peewee mini-shrimp who couldn't handle even a drop of alcohol?" Ed hissed, clearly remembering that Elicia was sleeping.
"Brother, he didn't say all of that!" Al protested.
"You, Ed. You," Mustang said, his smirk pulling into a full blown smile.
Ed looked Mustang up and down contemplatively, before nodding with satisfaction. "I thought so, bastard."
"Colonel Bastard." Mustang gave Ed a sharp look.
Ed and Al laughed.
"Sure thing, Colonel Bastard," Ed agreed easily.
It was a little over a half-hour later that Ed, Al, and Mustang gave their farewells to the Hughes and headed out for the night. Mustang dropped the boys off at General Elias's house fifteen minutes later, before heading home himself. As each person to attend dinner that night laid their heads down to go to sleep, they shared a single thought. Thirty-five hours.
Ed and Al had thirty-five hours before getting their first shot at making their dream of becoming State Alchemists a reality. Mustang only had thirty-five hours left to put the brakes on an operation that had been over fifteen months in the making, if he were to put the brakes on it at all. Maes Hughes had thirty-five hours left to convince his friend to do the right thing. Gracia Hughes simply shed a silent tear with her husband's arms wrapped around her, because she knew that in thirty-five hours the boys she had met tonight would never be the same again.
Dogs of the Military, it was such a cruel thing for two wonderful, young men to be known as.