Chapter 20: And what happened next…
I had many ideas of how to end this, but I had to decide and settle on one. In the end, I could not develop Damien as much as I wanted. Life butchered my train of thought (school, first full-time job, etc.), but I am at least somewhat satisfied with the ending.
Now, we're up for the last chapter. I hope you enjoy it, and thanks for sticking with me!
The sun mocked Mustang as he stared down the barrel of the gun. The sky was clear; not a cloud could be seen. The grass was brown and covered in frozen fractals of ice. Mustang could see his breath as it came out in garish gasps. Pain laced its way up and down his body; every bruise ached, and his throat was raw, effectively obscuring the lingering pinch of hunger.
He had only made it to the bottom of the stairs before the rebels caught up to him. The subsequent tackle and flailing fists would generally pose no problem. But he was exhausted after the fight with Jimmy and Damien to escape the cell and from carrying and hiding Edward. Now, Mustang sported several new bruises, and the ropes around his wrists cut into them, causing his hands to tingle. The rebels had dragged him off once Damien ordered them outside.
In the small clearing outside the compound, rough hands shoved Mustang to his knees, and pain flared through them again as he hit the ground. Mustang's head was bowed and shoulders hunched forward. Yet, he tried to keep himself upright as much as possible.
Damien leaned forward, gripping Mustang's chin, and brought his face inches from Mustang's own. "Where is the boy?"
Damien annunciated each word; his face was white with fury, and his jaw was tense. If they could not find Edward, then his plan to use him against the encroaching Amestrian army was useless. The timing of Mustang and Edward's escape attempt was most ill-timed for Damien, and the man cursed his negligence. He had considered separating the two the night before, but due to his exhaustion from his trip, he had decided to postpone it until morning.
Mustang merely blinked at Damien's question and laughed, "I couldn't tell you anymore even if I tried."
Damien jerked his hand away, and Mustang smirked even as he still tried to steady his breathing. Mustang's vision was beginning to blur, but he glared up at Damien nonetheless.
Mustang closed his eyes. I'm going to die, and they'll find Edward unless the military gets here soon. He hoped that Logan had succeeded in finding the military and that they would listen – taking note of the urgency.
Damien placed the gun at Mustang's temple. Mustang could feel the cold metal but kept his eyes closed. Meanwhile, Damien stood glaring down at Mustang,"Then, die."
Above them and still watching through the window, Edward continued to watch in horror. As Damien's arm raised to point the gun at Mustang, visions of the previous time flitted through his mind. This time, Damien was obviously not just trying to manipulate them. Edward's fist hit the pane of glass as he screamed, "Roy!"
The sound of a gunshot reverberated across the clearing, and Mustang was sure he heard someone call his name but was surprised to feel no pain.
Around Mustang, all the rebels stood nonplussed. Above, Edward felt like he was being choked, and the wood of the windowsill beneath his fingers creaked.
A few feet away from where Mustang knelt, Casper stood with a smoking gun pointed directly at Damien. Casper collapsed to his knees, dropping the gun, his eyes wide and staring at his violently shaking hands as Damien toppled forward, red blooming from the center of his chest.
The sound of a second gunshot made Mustang flinch. The man standing behind him cried out and fell backward, clutching his shoulder.
Edward stilled as he watched the events unfold below. When Casper raised his gun and pointed it at Damien, he did not dare to hope that the man would help. When the second rebel fell, Edward's eyes flicked to the tree line.
Another gunshot sounded. Another rebel fell.
As Damien lay on the ground, gunshots echoing around the clearing, a heavy sensation made him feel as though he was wading through quicksand, sinking farther and farther down with every move he tried to make. Damien propped himself up on one arm and stretched out his other hand. Reaching for the gun, he had dropped.
All I have to do is shoot Mustang.
Every piece of Damien's plan had shattered like glass. The Drachma soldiers were not expected for another week, and if he could not use Mustang for his purposes, then the infernal man would die. Damien's vision blurred, and suddenly, his father was kneeling before him. Damien reached for the gun once more. He had to shoot him. He had to kill him. Nothing would be resolved if he did not.
Damien's eyes bulged. What did I need to do to make them look at me the way he looks at that insufferable brat?
Damien gasped; he was not wrong – he couldn't be. Damien did not notice when his head hit the ground. He blinked. He felt a chill spreading through him, and in that moment, a movement close by caught his eye. His breath caught in his throat as a single purple and blue butterfly took off from a blade of grass – flying into the sky as Damien's vision faded, and he knew no more.
Mustang slumped in relief as another gunshot rang out, taking out another rebel that held him in place.
Meanwhile, Casper did not move. Casper neither heard nor reacted to the sounds of gunshots as he continued to stare at his hands.
Edward watched, still gripping the windowsill, as the rebels surrounding Mustang were overcome by the sudden onslaught, and Mustang remained unharmed. He could see Casper kneeling in the grass and could not believe what Casper had done – despite his recent help. Edward almost laughed. After everything, it was Casper who saved Mustang, and the military, now having arrived, was taking care of the rest. Edward's knees gave out, and he slumped to the floor, turning to sit with his back against the wall below the widow, breathing heavily as the adrenalin faded. He choked back what was either a laugh or a sob and then fell asleep where he sat.
In the clearing below, forms in a very familiar Military Blue rushed forward, and loud crashes could be heard from inside as the military raided the compound in a three-point pincer.
Mustang rubbed his knee. Despite the doctor taking off the bandages a few days ago, it would still occasionally flair with pain. As he collapsed onto the chair in front of the fireplace in his apartment, he ran a hand through his hair.
After their rescue, both Mustang and Edward spent a week in the hospital in North City before they were allowed to travel south to East City. Before their release from the Hospital in North City, Hawkeye insisted that the brothers stay at Mustang's place to make it easier to watch them as they further recuperated from their injuries, dehydration, and malnutrition.
Knowing full well neither Edward nor Mustang liked hospitals, they had arranged for a doctor to do home visits once they returned to East City. Hawkeye made the case that it would be easier on the doctor if they were in the same place and that it would make protecting them easier until they knew what was going on with Drachma. Surprisingly, Edward did not object.
Much to Mustang and Edward's displeasure, information regarding the attack and their rescue was restricted at the time. Hawkeye promised to tell them everything once she was able. However, they were asked to give their reports on the abduction and their experience for the investigation. Mustang had insisted that he and Edward do the interview together, for which Edward had been grateful.
Finally, Mustang and Edward had been released and had arrived in East City earlier that morning.
Currently, Hawkeye was helping Edward settle into the spare bedroom. Mustang could hear the clank of Alphonse's armor, the boy's banter, and Hawkeye's calm voice drifting through the apartment. While Edward had not objected to staying with Mustang, he was not pleased either and had cast Mustang a strange glance when Hawkeye made the request.
Mustang sighed contentedly, letting his thoughts wander as he sank deeper into his chair. Being in his own space was, after all, best.
Down the hall, in the spare room, Alphonse was enamored with an oversized chair in the corner of the room by the window. A small side table with pens and paper and a large bookshelf also stood nearby.
Hawkeye smiled, "Mustang used this room as a study and library of sorts. He had me order the chair for you once it was decided that you two would stay with him." Hawkeye's face softened as Alphonse's head swiveled between her and the chair.
"Really?"
Hawkeye nodded, "He wanted to give you a comfortable place to read during the night."
Edward's head perked up from where he was shoving his clothes into a dresser, "He did that?" Edward smiled. If it had been before, he would have thought Mustang was up to something, but now, it did not surprise him much. It felt right – warm even.
The brothers exchanged glances, and Alphonse plopped down, running his hands over the armrests, "I'll have to thank him!"
Hawkeye merely smiled, and then scolding Edward helped him refold and put away his clothing nicely to the banter and mock grumbling from the blond alchemist. By the time they were done, Mustang had fallen asleep to the soft noises drifting through the home.
Only a few days later, word came through various means from Drachma that the leader of the contingent that met with Damien had been executed. The official story from Drachma was that the execution was punishment for invading another country and potentially starting a dispute between the two. No one in Amestris ever learned, but the failure was the last straw for the Drachma government, who felt that the leader's actions compromised their long-term plans.
After reading the news, Mustang settled back into his couch and, after a few moments of silence, cracked open one eye to observe Edward, who sat silently, staring at the article while biting his lip, eyebrows drawn together in a pensive expression. The article worried Edward.
Mustang's eyes landed on Edward's automail arm. The military had found the appendage, and after having it looked over by Winry, it was reattached. She had left the day before while Edward remained, much to both brother's displeasure. Still, Hawkeye insisted again that it was necessary that they stay.
Meanwhile, Edward tossed down the paper. Mustang barely heard his whispered question, "What happened to everyone else? Casper, Logan, and the others? Is the information still restricted?"
Edward was facing forward. So, since Mustang was to Edward's side, he could not fully see Edward's face. Mustang gave Edward a sidelong glance, studying his profile for a moment before he answered, "Well, even I was kept in the dark while we recuperated."
"We're still," Edward made air quotes, "recuperating, now."
Edward looked over at Mustang, and Mustang smirked, "True, but I'm sure now that we've been back at my place for a while, we can convince Hawkeye to give us the details using that." Mustang pointed to the paper.
Edward smirked back, "you think?"
"I'm sure between the two of us, we can make it work. You can be quite convincing when needed." Mustang grinned at the younger alchemist.
Edward's smirk grew wider, "Really? The great and mighty Flame Alchemist needs my help to ask his own subordinate for information?"
Mustang shook his head and chuckled, "When it comes to Hawkeye, I'd rather her not go reaching for her gun."
Edward stiffened and then looking away, "Well, of course, you need me, then!" All the while, Edward's hands clasped tighter, and he refused to make eye contact.
Mustang draped one arm over his eyes and sank deeper into the plush couch, "that I do."
Almost as soon as Hawkeye returned from the office that evening, Edward began peppering her with questions about what was going on with the investigation.
Hawkeye met Edward's gaze and then looked to Mustang, who merely nodded. Hawkeye sighed, glanced at the front door as if someone might be there, and then sat down on the couch. "Technically, it's still under investigation, but you're not going anywhere anyway."
She began with the events leading up to their departure to the north. "It took far too long for us to get a rescue team ready, but thankfully, one of the soldiers from the second group escaped the attack and was able to report. Otherwise, it might have taken longer."
Edward looked between the two adults as Alphonse entered the room and stood next to Edward, who was sitting in the chair by the fireplace, "Why? We were already missing, if they went missing too…"
"Because," Mustang cut in, "They would assume that there was a reason for a delay. And they would want to avoid moving too many resources for a potential non-issue. For all they knew, we went AWOL, and the other team was just late. They wouldn't have waited as long after a delayed report from the second group, but they would have waited."
Hawkeye nodded and then continued her explanation of their arrival by train and how the military sent one group to Yoxeqa and the other to Egmuridcu. "I have to admit, they were still being overly cautious. I'm surprised they did not immediately order us to surround and attack the compound. General Armstrong most certainly wanted to move in quickly, but the Fuhrer ordered us to proceed cautiously and only once everything was confirmed."
Mustang suppressed a flinch at the mention of General Armstrong but nodded, and Edward shifted impatiently in his chair.
"What about the rebels who helped us?"
Mustang clicked his tongue, and Hawkeye gave Edward a sympathetic smile, "I'll explain that in a minute, but first, I have to explain how I met them."
Edward looked up and nodded expectantly. So, Hawkeye continued the story from her perspective of meeting and planning with Maria. Then, she began telling them about the day of the rescue operation.
"I was surprised that I wasn't in as much trouble as I could have been for letting Logan return after our initial meeting that evening. If the military knew it was all planned on our part, they wouldn't be happy."
"Yeah, I get it. I understand why they wouldn't just trust someone coming out and saying, I was asked by Mustang and Edward to give you a message and plan their escape, but…" Edward mocked.
Mustang chuckled, and Edward glared. Mustang smirked, "Well, I need to keep my code secret if my plans to change the government are to be successful. The military can't learn about my codes!"
Hawkeye shook her head and rolled her eyes, and Edward glared at Mustang, "And that's why you're a manipulative bastard."
"I call it strategizing," Mustang snorted.
Hawkeye intervened before they could get off topic, "Anyway, it was finally the morning that we were going to lead the attack. When Logan came running toward the clearing without you two, it was obvious something had gone wrong. So, I moved forward with the contingency, otherwise…" Hawkeye paused and shook her head, "After Logan informed us that Damien was planning to move you…"
Edward's head jerked up. "Wait, what? Move us?"
"You didn't know?" Hawkeye glanced between the two.
Mustang's lips were pressed in a thin line, "No. We were not expecting to see Damien that morning. When he came in, it was clear that something had happened to prevent Logan from coming and helping us. Fortunately, Casper had unlocked our shackles the night before. Once Damien saw that we were free, he threatened us and Casper, and not much else was said before Edward and I fought our way out of the cell. So, we never actually learned why he was there."
Edward nodded, eyes expectantly waiting for Hawkeye to explain.
"According to Logan, Damien was planning to separate the two of you to try and control you." She nodded to Mustang. "Since he was planning on sending you to Drachma as a bargaining chip, he wanted to have Edward in a separate place to try to manipulate you into complying for Edward's safety."
"I see…" Mustang's eyes darkened.
Edward glanced nervously at Mustang. It wouldn't have worked, right? I mean, I know now he's not as bad as I used to think… he did threaten Al… but… do I mean that much?
Edward looked at Mustang out of the corner of his eye as he bit his lip, "Would it have worked?"
Mustang blinked as his head shot over to look at Edward. Edward's head was down, his hands clasped tightly, and his eyes darting between looking at Mustang out of the corner of his eye and back to his hands. Alphonse stood stiffly behind Edward, helmet titled in Mustang's direction.
Mustang merely observed Edward for a moment, and Edward squirmed a little, and then Mustang sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Yes. Yes, it would have."
Edward's head shot up, eyes wide, and then he looked back down.
"Edward, I take care of all of my subordinates, but even if you can be an insufferable brat, you're my insufferable brat."
The corners of Edward's lips twitched, and then he turned to look at Hawkeye, who quickly hid the smile twitching at the corners of her lips.
Mustang scoffed internally. Damn, that Hughes – getting weird ideas about kids stuck in my head. If he learned about this, He'll laugh for sure and rib me even more about finding a wife – and doing things backward.
"And then?" Edward asked, "What happened next?"
Mustang rubbed his temples as Hawkeye continued.
"After Logan informed us of the change, Logan was sent to the base with Furey. Since then, Logan has been let go on the word that he was not a part of the rebel group for long and due to his help. But back to the rescue. The teams were in three groups, and as our group approached from the east, we saw Mustang in the field surrounded by rebels.
"We were approaching cautiously, and I was ordered to get ready to shoot Damien. Before I was ready, Casper shot him. We, of course, didn't know who he was at the time, but from that point, we were working to save Mustang and Casper. Of the two rebels restraining Mustang, one was drawing his gun while another two were going for Casper. Of course, since we were not aware of the whole situation, and he had saved you, we were going to at least attempt to bring him in alive. The other two groups invaded the compound once they heard the gunshots."
She paused and met Edward's gaze, "Lieutenant Brill's team found you, Edward. You were passed out in a bedroom on the second floor."
Edward nodded and then furrowed his brow, "How did I get up there?" Edward looked to Mustang.
Mustang sighed. In the hospital, Edward had given his account first, Mustang corroborating the points where they were together. After Edward was done, he had fallen asleep sometime during Mustang's account, and so he had missed the story when Mustang had told it.
So, Mustang retold the account for the young alchemist, "After you knocked out Jimmy, I was only able to stun Damien. You had passed out, and I wanted to get you out of the cell as quickly as possible. I wasn't sure how much longer I would last, and I didn't want Damien using you. So, I took advantage of his dazed state and carried you to the second floor. I didn't have much time. Damien was calling for help before I even started up the steps, so I hid you in a room, none too soon, either.
"I was able to get out of the room and down the hall before they spotted me. So, I ran in the opposite direction of the room where I hid you while pretending to call to you to throw them off. Telling you to run. Once they caught me, they took me outside. I kept up the pretense that you were free and running, which is when they…"
"Tried to shoot you. I know, you idiot. I woke up under a bed, and when I crawled out and looked out the window, I saw you with a gun at your head." Edward crossed his arms, glaring at Mustang. Edward's first telling in the hospital was far more serious, but this time, Mustang could see the stress lining Edward's face.
"Well, what else did you want me to do?" Mustang huffed.
"No, get caught?" Edward shot back.
Mustang sighed, "Edward, you were unconscious, and I was barely aware of what I was doing."
"Still…it was the second time I saw someone point a gun at you... and you're a bastard!" Edward crossed his arms and stared sullenly at the floor.
Hawkeye and Mustang exchanged glances while Edward brooded.
Hawkeye continued, "So after the raid, the rebels were rounded up, and you both were brought to the hospital.
"Casper will be sent to prison for his part in the rebellion, but saving you was helpful. I was able to keep Logan from ruining his story, and so he's still free. I was able to keep it under wraps that he was there for longer than his official story.
"The rest of the rebels, including Maria, will be in prison for a long time. There was nothing I could do for her. Several were dead by the end, but Maria and one or two others were cooperative and very obvious about it, which helped their cases."
Mustang's next question almost made Edward look up, but he stubbornly continued to glare at the floor, "Will there be any executions?"
Hawkeye shook her head at Mustang's question, "All those who resisted ended up killed on the scene."
Edward flinched.
Hawkeye sighed, "From there, well, you've seen the news regarding Drachma. Then, you know what happened with you at the hospital, and now, here we are."
Edward finally looked up, "So, there's no threat? Then, I'm here just cause of the doctor, right?"
"You're here just in case, and you're here because you need someone to help make sure you take proper care of yourself while you recuperate," Hawkeye responded.
Alphonse chose that time to pitch in, "Brother, they've been very nice and helpful!"
"We could have gone to Resembool, all the same," Edward argued back.
"Even so, it's good to have us recuperate here; you haven't been…"
"Alphonse," Edward whined.
"Humph," Alphonse crossed his arms. "You just don't want to admit it. Anyway, I like having a place to stay here in East City."
Edward blinked and then bit his lip.
"Alright, boys, how about we get dinner now that the stories are told?" Hawkeye chimed in.
All the while, Mustang just watched Edward, trying to decern exactly what was going on between the two.
Edward's head swung over at the mention of food, "Can we have stew?"
Hawkeye shook her head, and Mustang rolled his eyes, smiling, "Sure, Edward, sure."
Later that night, something woke Mustang from sleep. He quickly grabbed his gloves and walked through the apartment. Finding nothing, though, he went back to bed.
Over the next few days, Mustang watched the brothers closely. He was still curious about whatever Alphonse had started to say, and every so often, he caught Alphonse either looking at him or his brother – intently.
Edward was back to his usual self, or at least that was how it appeared to all who did not know him well. Mustang could see beyond the rebellious façade now. There were days when his brashness was normal, but there were days when tension underlined the behavior. Then, there were days when the shadows under his eyes looked just a little darker than usual.
Overall, things had changed between Mustang and Edward. The change seemed to please Alphonse, but Mustang was Mustang, and Edward was Edward.
Edward was not talking to Alphonse about what happened beyond the meeting in the living room days before, and while it made Alphonse sad, the little bit he picked up from the conversations once Edward and Mustang came back stopped him from asking. Edward was grateful for Alphonse's quiet support but wished he could just sleep.
Edward wanted to go back out and begin searching for the philosopher's stone again, but until the doctor gave him a clean bill of health, he knew he was not going anywhere, and part of him did not want to leave. He kept waking up with images of served heads and the sight of dead bodies littered with gunshots strewn around him. The only relief was that they had mostly taken over his usual nightmares. The charcoal-grey body from the basement wasn't showing up – as often.
Then there were the dreams where he was impossibly cold, and a single spark of warmth would appear, only to be snuffed out. That one, although not frightening – it never woke him up – started while they were still held captive. However, in that dream, while they were still captive, the warmth would not be snuffed out. But after their rescue, the warmth would not stay, no matter how much he searched for it, and then the dream would dissolve into the nightmares. It perplexed him that he could find the warmth while in captivity but not after being rescued.
They had been back at Mustang's apartment for almost two weeks before Mustang found out what was bothering Alphonse and Edward.
Two days after being woken up and finding nothing, Mustang woke to Alphonse knocking on his bedroom door. Mustang rolled out of bed and, throwing on a robe, opened the door, "Yes, Alphonse?"
"Um, well, I don't know if Brother will like it very much, but well... He's just not sleeping, and he's having nightmares, and I know he doesn't want you to know, but well, tonight he just won't wake up, and he sounds like he's in pain and I don't know what to do!"
Mustang was not ready for an overwrought, almost pre-teen's rambling at that hour. All he had caught was Edward, Not sleeping, and Nightmares. Mustang glanced at the clock to see it was three in the morning.
Mustang shook his head to help clear the sleep away. I should have guessed.
"Mustang?"
"One moment, just let me wake up. Don't worry, Alphonse, you're just worried, and that's alright. Can I go in to see how your bother is doing?"
Alphonse gave a relieved sigh and nodded, gesturing with his arm to lead the way.
Mustang started forward, and Alphonse followed behind. When they reached the room, Mustang could tell why Alphonse was upset. Edward was tangled in his sheet, sweating and mumbling indistinctly.
A vague memory passed from when they were in the cell. There would be times when Edward would be leaning away from Mustang and start to mumble in his sleep. Not wanting to wake him, Mustang would just move a bit closer and then draw Edward toward him. Then, Edward would normally move the rest of the distance himself and settle down.
Mustang debated.
Would it be better to wake him? We had no choice but to sit next to each other while in the cell. He wouldn't appreciate me sitting him up, would he?
Mustang sighed and then chose to sit on the bed, back up against the headboard, and place one hand on Edward's shoulder. As soon as Mustang's hand made contact. Edward stilled, shifted, and then squirmed in his sleep to move closer. Mustang's hand moved and began to rub small circles on Edward's back.
"How did you know?" Alphonse whispered in wonder.
Mustang smiled, "Once in a while, while we were captured, I had to do something similar."
Alphonse snorted quietly, "So, I should have asked sooner."
Mustang quirked an eyebrow.
"Edward hasn't been sleeping. He has nightmares on bad days… because… well, you know, but ever since he's gotten back, it's been every night."
Mustang merely nodded at Alphonse's words as his head began to bob forward. At the same time, one of Edward's hands came up and bumped against Mustang's leg. Mustang shifted. One leg was off the bed, while the other lay stretched out along the edge. Mustang barely noticed Alphonse placing a pillow behind his back before Mustang fell asleep.
Alphonse watched the two for a while, staying just in case Mustang fell over from his upright position, but when he was sure both were fine, he went back to his chair. He felt the lip of his soul stretch into a wide, warm grin at the sight of the chair. There was something about it this night, with Mustang in the room after having helped Edwar sleep more peacefully, that felt good.
It felt a little bit like home – a bit like before mother passed, that kind of warm. Sure, the Rockbell house was home, too, but this was special – an unexpected find – and that made it all the better.
Hours later, when the sun rose, Alphonse was the first to notice both Alchemists waking almost simultaneously.
Alphonse had to suppress a laugh at Edward's surprised expression upon seeing a leg in front of his face.
Mustang's hand was still draped behind Edward's back, and Mustang was stirring too, which meant Mustang almost smacked the younger alchemist as he brought his hand up to rub the sleep out of his eyes.
Edward just stared, and after Mustang was done blinking, he looked around. And when he realized he was in the brother's room, he casually looked down.
"You're awake."
Edward just continued to stare.
Mustang sighed, "I'll go make breakfast."
Edward watched as Mustang left before rolling in bed to look at Alphonse, his expression conveying the unspoken question.
"You were having a really bad nightmare, and I couldn't get you to wake up. I asked Mustang for help."
Edward broke eye contact and then just nodded.
Edward wasn't sure what he felt. His dream had been dark, and it was starting to dissolve into the usual bout of spiraling darkness where he would see things from their time in the cell, and then, the warmth had returned.
Damn, I was hoping that it hadn't been because of Mustang. Edward internally moaned. He's going to think I'm such a kid.
"We should get ready…" Edward merely nodded at Alphonse's prodding and then rolled out of bed to get dressed and eat the pancakes Mustang was sure to be making.
"At least he can cook."
"Brother!" Alphonse chastised as they headed out of the room.
After breakfast, Mustang sat on the couch and found it did not surprise him when Edward plopped down next to him a few minutes later. Mustang just sat quietly while Edward stared at him, but eventually, Mustang turned his attention toward Edward.
"Yes, Ed?"
Edward's face froze for a moment and then twitched into a grin, "So we're on a first-name basis now?"
"I seem to recall you calling me by mine and another name, no more like a title…"
"Shut up!" Edward's face burned. "Just don't mention it! It was a one-time thing, you hear! We don't even know if that bastard was telling the truth!"
Mustang just chuckled, "Well, I won't mention it, but if you want to call me Roy, you can. Just make sure you only call me Roy here. If the military heard you – truth-forbid – we'd have more than one problem."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, first, you'd be in trouble for insubordination. I think I made the consequences of that clear the day you got your license. Secondly, if anyone thought there was something more, given my position and title, you'd paint a target on your back. You don't need that. All you need to do is find your stone and get out of the military as quickly as possible."
"That's the goal, bastard."
Mustang smiled wanly, "And if the State Alchemists are called to another war, with Drachma, for example, what would you do if ordered to kill?"
Edward flinched.
"That is exactly why you need to get out as soon as possible. I know you know that, but sometimes, you're so focused on your goal that you forget all the other consequences."
"Yeah, we'll find it and get out as soon as we can."
"As for last night…" Mustang began, but because he was not looking at Edward, he missed the startled but almost expectant expression. "You should talk to someone. After Ishval, I even needed to talk about what happened and what I saw. I will be talking to someone I trust about this – once things are back to normal. It's not shameful to need to talk to someone. You don't have to do it on your own. That's why I have a team to accomplish my goals. I selected every one of them because I know they'll help me work toward the goal of making this a democracy."
Mustang sighed, "You should talk to someone too."
Mustang turned to face Edward, who was looking straight at him, lips pursed.
"I wasn't sure if we were going to make it, and then you promised you'd get me out, even when there was no guarantee you could. Then we did escape but were caught again, and D… Damien had us separated. I wasn't sure what was going on when I woke up alone, and I never saw anyone, and then you were back, but then I was sure you were dead 'cause he shot you… and he had me in that other room. It wasn't much different being strapped to the table than being bound and tossed on the floor."
Mustang flinched at the mention of the table.
Edward continued without noticing, "We've talked about this a bit already…"
Mustang nodded, and Edward, who had looked up, took that as encouragement to continue.
"But after we got back, all I can see is him shooting you again and again. And this time, it's for real. Sometimes you're in the cell, and sometimes your outside, and that freaking head shows up, and then the... person Al and I… it shows up still in the middle of the circle, and it's cold. It's always cold."
"Edward," Mustang leaned forward, "It is okay. We made it out."
Mustang placed his hand on Edward's knee, and Edward bit back tears.
"You shouldn't hold back, not regarding this. It was a big deal, and while I know you've been through a lot already, the events of the past few months are a big deal. You're strong, Edward. Tears don't make you weak or immature. You can come to talk to me any time, and while I know you don't want to worry your brother, you're worrying him all the same by not saying anything."
Edward took in a shaking breath and, with a sharp exhale, nodded.
"Thanks, old man."
"I am not old enough to be called old."
Edward smirked, "are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure you insufferable brat."
Edward's smirk widened into a mischievous grin, and Alphonse peeked his head around the corner as the conversation turned to light-hearted insults, just watching the two alchemist's banter.
Weeks later, after the doctor declared them fit for active duty, Mustang watched as Edward and Alphonse walked off Eastern command's military grounds. Edward's first annual review since gaining his license sat on Mustang's desk, and both he and the younger alchemist were now back up to their normal weights and feeling fine.
The brothers were now headed toward the station to board a train to yet another city to follow another lead toward the philosopher's stone. Mustang shook his head, and Hawkeye smiled at their retreating backs.
Mustang sighed, "You know, maybe I'll send them to Tucker's at some point. If he really is a bio-alchemist like this says," he held up a report, "then he might have some ideas they could use." Mustang shook his head again, "just not yet, though. I'll give them some time. After all, Edward is only thirteen, and Tucker only just received his license. Maybe in a year or two, when Tucker has had some time to establish himself and use the resources available to further his research."
Hawkeye nodded, "it would probably benefit both them and Tucker. They could learn a lot from each other."
"I bet they'll spend just as much time playing with his daughter…" Mustang chuckled and turned to face the city outside his window once more. The paperwork on his desk was successfully ignored until the click of a gun had him hastily turning around to start signing until he had carpel tunnel.
Well, that's a wrap!
The first renditions of the scenes where Mustang and Edward fight Damien (Jimmy and Isacc added), Mustang hiding Edward under the bed, and Casper shooting Damien (especially the butterfly) were all written before I posted the first chapter. We've finally made it after these long years!
