Ed groaned, ripping the blankets back and sitting up on the creaky piece of shit the Rose Hotel called a bed. Al's snores and the rickety thing would be the death of him. He was pretty sure his eye bags had eye bags at this point. It wasn't like they were the only ones to blame, but he refused to think about the dreams. Especially if he had to face the star of said dreams in just a few hours.
Blearily, he looked towards the window. They'd forgotten to shut the blinds when they climbed into bed last night. Pale sunlight peeked through the overcast sky. Being on the third floor meant he couldn't see if the streetlights had been extinguished yet, but it wouldn't be long if they hadn't.
Ed snorted quietly as he shoved his hair into a messy bun. Being at Granny's for so long apparently meant they lapsed in security measures. He could hear the old hag berating him. She'd thrown a spanner at his head (at least now he knew where Winry had picked up that awful habit) when they'd told her they were leaving. After she'd told him to come home every once in a while. He could have sworn he saw pride in her eyes, but she'd shooed them out the door with reminders to watch each other's back. Like he, or any of the teamreally, would let anything happen to Al.
Stretching his arms over his head, he let out a small groan. With the distant sounds of the morning revelry, there was no point in attempting to go back to bed. He crept to the window, dodging the piles of clothes and bags. Sure enough, a lamp boy on the street below snuffed out the lights one by one until he rounded the corner and was out of sight.
Ed glanced at the clock just to the side of the window. Six in the morning. Would Mustang be getting up now? The bastard didn't usually roll into the office til about eight-thirty. Or at least that had been the norm the last time Ed had been located in Central.
Ed choked back a snort of amusement at the thought of Mustang with bedhead, and those striped pajamas old people tended to wear. His geriatric ass probably wore a sleep cap, what with his obsession with his hair. Though, if he was honest with himself, he desperately wanted to know if it was as soft as it looked.
"Ed?" Al murmured, causing Ed to jump and look over. Al sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing one eye. "What time is it?"
"Just past six. Hurry up, I'm going to need a good breakfast if we're actually doing this." The words were soft, melancholy taking root even as his stomach protested the thought of food. Skipping breakfast would keep him from embarrassing himself by puking all over the general, but Al would notice. So far, he'd done a damn good job at keeping his younger brother from figuring out he dreamed about the bastard with alarming frequency.
"Okay." Al stretched, slowly standing before getting his bag from the floor near the foot of the bed. "I'm going to get a quick shower."
Ed simply nodded, turning back to the window. Damn, he really was planning to re-enlist.
Running water and humming told him that Al's shower had started. He touched a hand to his bun and grimaced. When had it gotten that tangled? Glancing at the small beside between their beds, he noted the distinct lack of his hairbrush. It had been there last night.
"Hey, Al?" Ed sighed when there was no answer. "Al." Still only humming. He stomped to the bathroom door. If that little shit had taken it into the shower again, he was going to throw him out a window. "Al!" He banged on the door twice.
The water shut off. "Did you need something?" Al called out in a sing-song manner. Ed would put money on him, knowing exactly what the issue was.
"You got my brush in there?"
"There's a brush in here." The water cut back on.
"C'mon, Al, you know I hate it when it's wet!" Ed whined.
More humming drifted out of the bathroom. He could practically see the smug grin on his younger brother's face. Whatever, he could make do with…he glanced about the room. There wasn't muchto begin with, let alone what little they'd packed.
Ed sighed, his hand reaching up to take his hair down. He toyed idly with the strands as they fell about his face. He really should cut it if he re-enlisted.
He dropped the hair, horrified.
The phone rang, and Ed stumbled as he rushed towards the piercing sound.
"Hello?" Ed gritted his teeth, biting back, asking rudely who the fuck would be calling him at that god-forsaken hour.
"Fullmetal."
Ed growled. "It's way too early for your shit, Mustang. What do you want?"
"Good morning to you, too." The bastard laughed from the other end, but something about it felt almost…forced? Then again, Ed had never known the man to call before noon; how the hell would he know what he sounded like this early.
"Is everything still set for later?" He asked quietly.
"Hawkeye informed me that there would be a chance of rain later this morning. I was hoping I could take you boys to breakfast instead?"
Ed's mind snagged on the rain part, dread filling his thoughts. Who would be watching them now? The homunculi had been dead and gone for over a year now!
"Yeah, that's fine. I'll tell Al about the change. Where do you want to meet up?"
"Don't worry about meeting up. I'll be in the lobby in half an hour. Be on time." Click.
"Fuck." He muttered to himself as he laid the phone back in the cradle. That was certainly not how he'd seen the morning going. He cast a glance at the bathroom door as it squeaked open. Al emerged, hopping as he tried to pull his pants over his wet body.
"Brother?"
"Change of plans, Al. Mustang is picking us up. Something about rain in the forecast." Ed shrugged nonchalantly even as his eyes bored into his brother's.
Al stilled before seamlessly returning to an easygoing body language. "That sounds like a good idea." He chirped. "I hate getting soaked."
Ed snorted. "You and me both."
