FIC: Eclipsed By The Sun 8/10 - Another Road Traveled: Promise Filled Sky - R (original) (raw)

Eclipsed by the Sun 8/10

Summary: After facing Lust under the Third Laboratory, Roy and Ed have teamed up to learn more about the homunculi while waiting for the other shoe to drop. In the process they find themselves learning more about each other and seeing past differences that have divided them for years. Will these welcome distractions tear them apart or bring new and unexpected possibilities for them both?

AUTHOR: catw00man and zippitgood
RATING: R
UNIVERSE: Another Road Traveled
SERIES: Promise Filled Sky
CHARACTERS: Roy Mustang/Edward Elric, Heymans Breda, Jean Havoc, Alphonse Elric, Ling Yao, Lan Fan, Winry Rockbell, Riza Hawkeye, Kain Fuery, Vato Falman, Gracia Hughes
CHALLENGE: Written for the 2012 round of big_bigbang
COMPLETED: Dec 11, 2012
WORD COUNT: 9,751 (Chapter), 76,515 (Overall)
DISCLAIMER: The characters portrayed within are not ours. This is merely a loving response to the original work.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This story is part of a larger Universe called Another Road Traveled. Promise Filled Sky falls within this universe and chronicles the beginning of the saga. This story immediately follows A New Dawn. Other stories within this universe may be found HERE.
ARTIST: The beautiful art for this story was provided by the very talented aquerna as part of the 2012 big_bigbang challenge.
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AO3 |

Stupid bastard. Stupid sunrise. Stupid fucking Mustang. Who the hell gets up at sunrise anyway? Oh yeah, stupid bastard Colonels do.

Ed rushes down the street and he still can’t believe he’s running so late. He probably wouldn’t be up at all if Al hadn’t accidentally woken him up arguing with Ling. He didn’t have time to figure out what the heated discussion was about, but one thing’s for sure. That guy is spending way too much time in their hotel room. They really, really need to start locking the windows, though somehow he doubts it would make much of a difference. As it was he barely had time to get dressed before running out the door and he’s still late. Stupid, fucking Mustang.

Ed breaks into a jog as he nears Columbus Street and scowls. Mustang better have that coffee as promised. He hardly ever goes a morning without it anymore and though Al’s not happy about it he does concede to have a pot ready once he wakes up. This morning was no different except in his rush to get out the door he tripped over Lan Fan’s foot that he still swears she stuck out on purpose. His coffee ended up all over his red coat and he couldn’t get another cup because a certain Prince had already drank the rest. So now he’s without his coat and his coffee and Mustang better watch himself when he gets there or he’s going to end up getting knocked on his ass.

He jogs past the café he picked up sandwiches from the day before and growls under his breath when the smell of freshly brewed coffee hits him in the face. The scent’s mingled with fresh baked morning pastries and Ed’s rumbling stomach chooses that moment to remind him he didn’t bother with breakfast either. He pushes himself into a run as he passes the open air part of the bistro and contents himself with picturing how much fun it’ll be to “accidentally” get in a good shot against the Colonel. He’s still angry about yesterday, not that he wants to think about it, so the thought of violence is a perfect distraction. If he’s thinking about hitting the Colonel in the face then he won’t be thinking about doing other things to his face and….

Dammit! He wasn’t going to go there. Stupid Mustang. Why did he have to make him feel like the fool when he obviously enjoyed it as well? Asshole. He doesn’t see how he’s any different than all the other—shit! He’s not thinking about this. He runs even faster through the neighborhood that’s getting more and more familiar looking until Mustang’s stupid house finally comes into view. He jogs up onto the porch and knocks loudly as he presses his hand to his side and catches his breath.

But no one answers.

What the hell? Ed tries the door only to find it locked. Is he fucking with him? He’s earlier than he was the other day when he talked to Mustang before he left for work so he can’t be gone already. He reaches back to retie the hair that’s fallen out of his hairband during his run. They did say they were going to spar. Maybe Mustang’s already out in the backyard. Ed huffs as he stomps off the porch then walks around the side of the house. Mustang’s car is still parked under the shade of a couple large trees so he has to be here somewhere.

He makes his way past it to a gate in the tall wooden fence that’s partially open. Considering how paranoid Mustang usually is about his privacy he’s willing to bet he left it open for him. Good. That should mean he’ll be ready to go and Ed can work out some of his damn frustration. He pushes the gate open all the way but then stops after only a few steps. His eyes widen and his breath catches. He should’ve realized he might be doing…that. Ed wets his lips and all he can do is stare as Mustang moves fluidly through his sequence of memorized Tai Chi forms.

It really is a lot like a dance, not that Ed knows much about dancing. But if he did he’d imagine a good dance would be something like this, smooth and controlled and impossible to look away from. He shifts on his feet as he watches the toned muscles of Mustang’s back stretch and flex as his arms move to one side and seem to draw his right knee up as he balances on his left foot. He holds the pose only for a moment before his hands and right leg stretch out together in perfect harmony. He lowers his left foot to the ground then shifts his weight onto it and continues the dance with more moves that mimic ones Ed knows along with some he’s never seen before.

Why didn’t Teacher ever show them this? Probably because it didn’t have an immediate application. But watching Mustang carefully control his weight transfer and balance he can easily see the benefits…as well as other things. He’s done a lot of thinking—and dreaming—since he first saw Mustang doing this and he’s come to one conclusion he can’t argue with. He finds the damn bastard attractive. It’s disconcerting, yes, but Ed’s never been one to shy away from truths once he’s faced with them, no matter how disturbing they may be. Right now part of him would still like to put a fist to Mustang’s jaw. The other part…he doesn’t want to think about.

Mustang turns and Ed can’t pull his eyes away from his profile. He sees the scar running down his side and once again it does nothing to repel him. If anything it adds to his mystique and makes him seem more attainable…especially for someone like Ed. In his eyes it actually makes Mustang more attractive because perfection, as he’s learned the hard way, is completely unrealistic. Mustang reaches out then pulls his hands closer as he shifts his weight again, almost as if he were tossing an invisible assailant aside, and Ed’s heart races at the way the muscles move under his skin. He’d like to touch them, to feel them tense under his hands just like they did in his dream the other night….

Dammit. He wasn’t going to think about that ever again! He wets his lips as Mustang steps forward and moves into and through a low lunging squat with the same grace as every other move. Stupid bastard. Why does he have to be the one to make him feel this way? He watches, completely transfixed, until Mustang’s equalizing his weight on both feet and pressing his hands deliberately down by his sides. It’s only then Ed realizes he’s come to the end of his exercise and he suddenly feels like he’s been doing something wrong watching him like this again. But what else was he supposed to do? He didn’t mean to—

“Edward. You’re late.” Mustang’s dark eyes lock on him briefly then quickly look away. He walks over to the front railing of the deck and retrieves his white button down shirt. He turns away from Ed as he puts it on and Ed frowns at losing the nice view.

“Yeah, well, I’m here now. So are we gonna— Hey, where are you going?” Ed chases after him when he climbs the two steps onto the wooden deck and heads for the back door. “What gives? I thought you wanted to—”

“I did. An hour ago.” Mustang pauses at the back door to look over his shoulder and Ed sees his shirt’s all the way buttoned up. The way he turned away so quickly it was almost as if he was trying to hide from him. Why would he bother with that now? “But as usual you can’t bother to be on time.”

The frosty tone in Mustang’s voice takes him off guard him and he follows him into the kitchen. Is he that mad about him being late? Why would he start being mad now? Ed rolls his shoulders as he watches Mustang walk over to the stove and he wonders if he can change his mind. He’s still all wound up and a sparring session would help a ton. He glances around when he doesn’t smell the familiar scent he’s expecting. “Hey, where’s the coffee?”

Mustang shoots him a look that has him almost wishing he hadn’t asked. “I didn’t make any,” he replies flatly then pours something that’s obviously not coffee from the kettle on the stove into a cup.

“Huh?” Ed blinks at his matter of fact tone and fists his hands. That’s not fair. The entire way over here he consoled himself with the promise of coffee. How dare Mustang renege on their deal? “What? You said you’d have it waiting!”

“And you said you’d be on time.” His voice is smooth and even as he takes his steaming cup of not-coffee over to the kitchen table and sits down. “To be honest I wasn’t actually expecting you, so I brewed tea. Feel free to try it if you like.”

Tea? Seriously? He doesn’t want any damn tea! But for some reason he finds himself going over and filling the second cup on the counter next to the stove. He scowls down at the hot liquid that’s nothing like coffee. It actually looks green. What is this crap? Stupid Mustang. Why does he always have to be so difficult? Ed brings the cup to his lips and hazards a tiny sip. It’s nothing like coffee. Not even a little bit, but it’s nothing like that dark, bitter tea Granny would drink either. It’s…different but not bad, just like many things he’s learning about where Mustang’s concerned, and that alone is disconcerting.

Ed holds the warm cup in both of his hands and turns around. He leans back against the counter by the stove and scowls when he sees the slight upturn to Mustang’s lips. He should’ve spit the stupid, weird tea out but instead he finds himself taking another sip as he eyes Mustang suspiciously. Is this some other bizarre test that only makes sense to the Colonel? He considers asking until he realizes he really doesn’t care. All he’s concerned with right now is trying to get the bastard back outside to kick his ass.

“So, are you really gonna chicken out already? It’s still early.” Ed tilts his head back toward the back door. “We’ve still got a little time, unless you’re just—”

“I’m not having this discussion with you, Fullmetal.” Mustang drinks down the last of his tea then reaches for the gun holster on the table. Ed slouches back against the counter and glares at him as he puts it on. “I have a full day ahead of me at work and I can’t be running late. However—”

“So that’s it, huh? Your way or no way?” Ed crosses his arms and his scowl deepens. He’s so tired of Mustang’s superior attitude. He watches him slide into his blue uniform jacket that was on the back of the chair and he does not like the way the stupid things fits him so perfectly. He hates the fucking uniforms. Particularly since they didn’t have them in his size when he enlisted. Fucking military uniform does not make the bastard look anything but more bastardy….

“However…,” he drawls out and Ed deliberately looks away when his dark eyes lock on him. “If you’d like to stay and work in the library, you’re welcome to. I just ask—”

“That I don’t leave. Got it.” Ed shrugs then reaches back for his tea cup on the counter and takes another sip. He’s still not looking at Mustang and it has nothing to do with anything other than he doesn’t want to see his smug face. He grips the cup tighter with his flesh hand then snaps, “Though, maybe I can’t promise that. I do have other things to do besides sort through all your shit.” He knows he shouldn’t say that. Mustang could just as easily tell him to leave, but he doesn’t like being so at his mercy on everything!

“Actually, that’s not what I was going to say.” Ed turns to look at him again and instantly wishes he hadn’t. He’s not sure what’s wrong with him today, but he needs to get a handle on this. Mustang’s no closer to him but as he pulls on his white gloves Ed can’t look away. For some reason every damn move he makes his making the room much too warm. Mustang reaches into his pocket for something and Ed glances away. “I was just going to ask that you lock the door behind you.”

Ed whips his head back around to see Mustang holding out his hand. Ed blinks in confusion but holds out his own hand all the same. Mustang drops the library key into his palm and all Ed can do is stare at it. Is he really giving him full access to the library? Why? Isn’t he angry with him for last night or being late or…he doesn’t even know at this point. Everything’s so fucked up right now it makes no sense at all!

“Just leave the key on the hall table if you need to leave.” Ed nods mutely, still looking at the key and all the numerous engravings that cover it. They almost look decorative, but now that he knows what they are he can recognize the lines of alchemy. What he doesn’t understand is why Mustang’s trusting him so damn much.

“Oh, yes. There was one other thing.” Ed looks up to find Mustang’s over by the kitchen door now. He’s adjusting the cuff of his sleeve and for once not staring Ed down with those piercing, deep eyes. “I forgot to tell you last night…Lieutenant Havoc is awake.”

It takes a second for the words to sink in and when they do Ed fists his hands angrily around the key. “What?! Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

Mustang’s eyebrows rise slightly in an annoyingly superior look that makes Ed feel like he’s ten steps behind. “I apologize. I wasn’t aware you and the Lieutenant were so close.”

“We aren’t…I mean….” Ed scowls and glares in Mustang’s general direction. “Do you always have to be such an ass?”

Mustang stares back at him with no change in expression. It’s a look Ed’s become more than used to over the years and usually means the Colonel thinks he’s being insolent about something. But then, after a moment, his expression softens into one he’s starting to see more and more. It’s strange but this time…it actually doesn’t make him feel all out of sorts. This time he actually likes it.

“Actually, knowing Jean, he’d probably enjoy your company if you’d like to stop by.” Ed looks away because he’s not so sure of that. He’s never really been a part of Mustang’s unit. He’s always just been the annoying alchemist who breezed in and out over the years. He hardly thinks Havoc would care to see him now. “I’ll see you later this evening if you’re still here,” and with that Mustang walks out of the kitchen door.”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll see about that,” Ed calls out though he doubts he will. He wouldn’t even know what to say to the Lieutenant. He turns the key over in his hand as he hears Mustang pick up his car keys from the bowl on the hall table then probably grabs his coat. The front door closes with a hard thump and only then does he relax. Here he is again, alone, in Mustang’s house. Pretty funny considering he said he wasn’t even expecting him. Ed pockets the key then finishes off his cup of tea. He turns toward the stove to find more in the pot and pours the steaming brew into the cup.

Wait a minute.

Ed stares hard at the still half full pot in his hand. He places it back on the stove and tilts his head as pieces he didn’t even notice begin to fit together in his head. Mustang had two cups set out and he obviously made more tea than he needed. Why would he do that if he really thought Ed wouldn’t be showing up? Why would he deliberately make this instead of the coffee he promised? Ed knows he has a percolator. He’s seen it. Ed lifts the ceramic cup and turns it in his hand. It only makes sense if Mustang wanted him to try this. But why? And why does that give him a warm feeling that has nothing to do with the hot, green liquid.

Ed grinds his teeth then turns sharply for the kitchen door, careful not to spill his tea. Mustang couldn’t have known he’d like this. He couldn’t even have known he didn’t like Granny’s black tea. Ed stalks down the hall and remembers how the fence gate was open as well. Is that why he was so pissy at first? Was he actually annoyed that he was late? The possibility is more than he wants to even consider and he sets his cup on the hall table as he fishes the key out of his pocket.

He presses three fingers to the spots above the doorknob then slides the key into the lock. A quick alchemic flash later the door opens and Ed’s again left to ponder what’s going on with the damn Colonel. Last night he acted like the thought of touching him was completely repellent. Okay, not repellent, but something that was utterly out of the question. He reaches back to grab his cup of tea then wanders into the library with a scowl deeply etched into his face.

That reaction would make sense if he didn’t like it. But the look he gave him….

Ed looks over to the char Mustang was standing, no, hiding behind and that warm feeling inside comes back. He was certain Mustang was disgusted with how he bolted…but the look of him. It wasn’t disgust. He doesn’t have much experience with any of this shit but the way his hand white knuckled on the back of the chair, the way his breathing was as rapid as Ed’s ever seen, the way his lips were swollen, and his eyes….

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Ed tears his eyes away from the chair and starts toward the couch but stops after only a step. He can’t sit there. Not when just standing here he can remember the taste of the bastard’s lips and the feel of them brushing along his jaw. Ed turns sharply to get away from the memory and stalks across the library to the desk. He sets his tea down then quickly walks back over to collect the books he’d pulled out before from the coffee table. He doesn’t care if Mustang doesn’t want him at his desk. He never said he couldn’t and that’s good enough for him.

He drops the books on the table then reaches out and downs nearly all of the hot tea. It burns his lips and tongue but at least that gets his mind off other things. Ed pulls out the chair and drops into it then reaches for Gruene’s Anthology to copy down more notes for Al. He opens up the book, flipping as quickly through the aged pages as he dares when he realizes he didn’t bring any paper for notes. Dammit. There was some folded up in his coat, not that it does him any good now. He looks over the desk and huffs out a breath. He should just ask Mustang to borrow the damn book. It would save a hell of a lot of time.

Ed pokes around the neat piles of stuff on the far edge of the desk but nothing he finds seems to be scratch paper. He rolls his eyes then jerks open the lap drawer only to find pens, paperclips, and other odds and ends that aren’t paper. Well, he didn’t intend on snooping but it looks like he has no choice. He yanks open the right drawer then freezes when his eyes land on…the glove.

He wants to touch it. He wants to figure out how it works but even as he considers pulling it out a feeling of trepidation and excitement runs through him. Ed saw his face when he got back to the hotel last night and he doesn’t know how but there was barely a yellowish mark left from the black eye he’d certainly have had. His aches and pains, even the ones from the automail, are still nearly nonexistent and he wonders how long the reprieve will last. It’s all because of Mustang and that glove and he wants to know why.

He snatches the glove from the drawer before he loses his nerve and spreads it out on the desk. He leans forward until his nose is nearly pressed to it and examines every swooping line. It’s not as geometrical as alchemy. Obviously it relies on different principles he has no idea about. How did Mustang make it work and how did it have such an effect on him? He runs an automail finger over the green fabric painted line and he wants to know if he can use this science too. He stares at the design a little longer, memorizing it in his mind. Surely it’s just like an alchemy array. He should be able to act as the array by focusing on it and use his personal Gate to activate the reaction. It should be as simple as clapping his hands together….

Mustang would probably have a fit, but he doesn’t care. You only learn by doing. He claps his hands together without hesitation and forms the array in his mind’s eyes just like he has with other arrays a million times before. He sees it, the swirling lines and foreign symbols just like on the glove. He focuses all his intent on the strange array, pouring energy into it like he would alchemy then presses his hands to his chest—

Nothing happens.

Actually, it’s less than nothing. He opens his eyes and stares down at the glove and its offending array. He should’ve felt something. A crackle of energy, a pulse of emotion, heat, desire, something other than flat nothing! It’s as if he didn’t know how to do alchemy at all. He scowls deeply and picks up the damn glove. He rips his own off his right hand with his teeth then pulls Mustang’s glove on. He studies it for another moment then does the one thing he’s seen the smug bastard do many time before. He waves his arm flamboyantly and snaps his automail fingers the best he can.

But nothing happens.

Ed snarls at the lack of anything then presses his hands together again. Maybe he just needed to be wearing the array. He focuses all his intent, all his will and energy into the array on his hand. There’s more to alchemy than just lines and circles. The user has to be a part of each reaction and that’s why if you do immense amounts of alchemy it can tire you out. It’s also why some are better than others because they can harness the energies of the reaction with their intent. It’s a good thing or the very existence of an array could be dangerous for the unwary. So now he focuses his entire being on this one damn array as he presses his hands flush together.

And nothing fucking happens.

“Fuck!” Ed glares down at the stupid alkahestry array. It’s as if he didn’t know what he was doing at all. Fucking Mustang could do it. Why can’t he? Unless.... Ed rips off the glove then claps his hands together with a fair amount of desperation. Maybe the problem isn’t the alkahestry. Maybe it’s him! He slams his hands to the desk then breathes a sigh of relief when the top portion of the wood grows into the small gargoyle face he pictured in his mind. The crackle of alchemy’s still tingling on his fingers just the way it should be.

It’s not him. It’s just Mustang’s stupid whatever this shit is supposed to be. He claps his hands together again to return the desk to its normal shape then reaches down to pick up the glove from where it fell on the floor. He gives it another long look then tosses the stupid thing back in the drawer. He’ll just need to get Mustang to do it again. That’s all there is to it. It’s all about the science anyway.

And heat. And pleasure. And that insistent throbbing between his legs….

Shit.

Ed slams the drawer closed then reaches for one of the books about myths and legends. He needs to stop thinking about this shit. He’ll just need to find some paper later or ask to borrow the book altogether. For now he just needs to get his mind on something that doesn’t have anything to do with a dark eyed Colonel or crazy alkahestry and all its distracting side effects. Ed flips through the book then settles back in the chair as he randomly selects a story. These tales seem to be centered out of the south so that should be interesting and different.

The first several stories he pages through seem to be about nothing more than superstitions and old wives’ tales. There’s no malevolent creatures or events so they’re probably inconsequential. He does find several references to a God of the Sun, but it doesn’t seem to be related to Leto. Apparently there are other sun gods for disillusioned people to believe in. He skims through a few more tales and it’s easy to see there’s a whole culture in the far south that seems to believe in god or goddesses for everything. He doesn’t know much about Aerugo, but considering the origins of many of these legends seem to be near the border he wonders if they could have originated there.

Ed flips to another section and something finally catches his eyes, but for all the wrong reasons. Apparently there was a tradition, still followed in some rural areas, which involved an entire festival for a fertility god and goddess named Priape and Aphea. The festivals would include fire rituals, wild drumming, and even naked dancing along with food and drink to celebrate the rebirth of spring. Ed’s cheeks heat when he reads that one ancient festival no longer practiced included a couple designated as Priape and Aphea who had sex publicly in honor of the godly pair.

He squirms in his chair at the thought of such a public display when something else catches his attention. There’s a note about another goddess, a dark side of Aphea that wasn’t to be crossed. Ed scours the text for a name but all he sees are references to the dark side of passion. He grunts in frustration as he flips through more pages until he runs across a panel of an ink drawing that looks a little familiar. The figure is primarily in shadow but even in the darkness there’s no missing the long, black hair and curvy silhouette. His eyes track down to the caption and he finds the name Epithuma. Now he has a direction!

Ed flips back to the front of the book and runs his fingers down the contents page. Most of the translations in the book have been decent. He just hopes they have more than just an image on this Epithuma. He flips to the second page of contents and grins when he sees the name halfway down the page. Now he’s making progress! He quickly opens to the assigned page and scans through the text.

”Though usually only spoken of in hushed whispers under the cover of darkness, Epithuma is a tale that continues to persist. Maybe it’s the lure of dark promise or primal urges or maybe it’s something else altogether. She is not a goddess of the harvest or of rebirth but one of strong passions and base desire. The most common tales, however, are more of a cautionary nature such as the Tale of the Man Inflamed by Desire.

In the recent past, there lived a young man inflamed by his own desires. In his quest to quench his carnal thirst, he neglected to give proper respect to the Lady Aphea or her Lord Priape. He took what he desired and ravished the fertile fields with reckless abandon, paying no heed to honor and tradition.

Until the dark one herself, Epithuma, crossed his carnal path.

She whispered licentious promises of sin and debauchery into his ear and through them took hold of his lecherous soul. Few is the pious one who can resist the dark one’s wanton charms.

In the morning light, he was found as these types often are. His trousers round his ankles with holes where there were once eyes.

For no one may look upon the face of Epithuma lest her spear run through his head, not once, but twice.

Do heed these words, lascivious youth, lest you also run afoul of the dark seductress’ wrath.”

Ed drops the book on the desk and leans back in the chair. A dark female figure who uses a spear to kill? It could easily be the homunculus Mustang torched. Wasn’t her name Lust? It fits more than he expected. Granted the “cautionary tale” was probably just like the ones he heard about the “Beasts of Dublith” eating disobedient children. People who believe in ridiculous things like gods and monsters could easily come up with this legend if the victim was a lecherous pig seen with a beautiful woman around the time of these fertility festivals. The real question would be why the homunculus would kill the man in the first place, but that important detail is probably lost to history.

Ed scowls at the book and shakes his head. This research is going to be just as frustrating as the damn stone. Legends never give you the information you want. It’s all about morals and ridiculous codes of honor that mean nothing. So many people let themselves be led around by the nose and he doesn’t get it. Why are people so stupid? He looks back to the book and shrugs off his irritation because from what he knows of Lust this fits. He just wishes it were a story about one they didn’t already kill, but at least it’s a start. He reaches for the book and pulls it into his lap to sift through it some more.

The next few pages seem to only talk about the timing and symbolism of the festivals. He skips past the meaningless babble and flips to a section that looks like replicas of old paintings and drawings. The first few panels depict fire dances with people moving in a choreographed fashion and he’s reminded of Mustang’s Tai Chi and how fluidly he moved from one position to the next. He could easily imagine him doing that at night with fire in his hands even though he knows it would be absurd. Ed flips to the next page to find sketches of naked dancers and his mind immediately takes the leap of substituting Mustang’s form in for the darker skinned ones.

He stares at the large bonfire behind the dancer and his breath quickens as he imagines Mustang’s pale skin illuminated by the flickering flame. His skin would almost seem to glow and shimmer with a light sheen of sweat coating his toned muscles. The dancing shadows would caress his frame like the hands of a dark lover and he’d stay just out of reach. Ed’s heart pounds and as his pants get tighter he realizes what the hell he’s doing. He gasps and quickly flips several pages but the image he comes to makes it even worse. It’s a depiction of Priape. Wearing nearly nothing. Exposing a ridiculously massive and erect penis.

And all he can see is Mustang’s face.

Fuck! Shit! Ed slams the book closed and jumps up from the desk. He takes several steps back but suddenly he sees Mustang everywhere. He sees him on the couch and remembers the taste of his kiss. He sees him out of breath by the chair. He sees him at his desk wetting his lips as he reads something with intense focus. He sees him lounging by an imaginary fire with a distinct lack of clothes and he has to get the hell out of here.

NOW!

He spins around and bolts for the library door. He has more research to do but right now he needs a damn break…or a cold shower. Or something! Ed closes the library door behind him then quickly locks it with the key. He turns to the hall table and somehow putting the key in plain sight doesn’t seem right. He looks around desperately then finally opts for putting the key under the key bowl. He glances to the door and suddenly knows he can’t go back to the hotel yet, not while he’s still this wound up. Al would know something was up and he’s not having that conversation.

He steps out onto the porch and it’s only when he closes the door he realizes he has no way to lock it. Stupid Mustang. What’s he supposed to do? He clenches his jaw and looks around. It seems like a nice enough neighborhood, but he doesn’t want to be the one responsible if something happens. He weighs his options for another breath then claps his hands together and seals the door with alchemy. He can come back later and fix it. If not, Mustang’s enough of a damn alchemist that he can fix it himself. Right now he just needs to go.

~*~*~*~

He made it all the way to the café a few blocks away before the scent of coffee and freshly baked bread drew him in for an early lunch. This time he finally noticed the name of the place: Café du Centre. He’s not sure where they speak whatever language the name is in, but if they all make bread this good he’d like to go there. He ended up trying the sandwich they said was Mustang’s favorite and he was actually surprised at how good it was. Stupid bastard. Does he have to be right about everything?

Ed contented himself with a strong coffee that seemed a bit too strong for the delicate, fresh bread but he didn’t care. At least it was something normal. He hasn’t had much in the way of normal lately. He was planning on heading back to the hotel to talk with Al for a while when he caught sight of an older man sitting on the patio smoking cigarettes with his coffee. That got him thinking about the way Havoc would always be doing that when he would come in to see Mustang in the morning and how he’d always smile and say “Mornin’, Boss.”

He’s never understood that. Sure he outranks him, but they all know that’s only because of his alchemy. It’s no reason for him to call him “boss.” The first time he did it he was certain Havoc was mocking him. But over time he’s never seen any maliciousness in his eyes no matter how many glares Ed’s given him. If anything he just seemed to be nicer and that’s why he’s headed to the Central Military Hospital with a full pack of cigarettes in his pocket.

It’s probably not the best gift for someone in the hospital, but considering it’s the only thing he knows about Lieutenant Havoc he went with it. Though, now that he’s getting closer to the hospital he’s having second thoughts. What if he doesn’t want to see him? What if he got the wrong brand of cigarettes? He looks over to the center of the road and one of the openings to the waterway below. He seriously considers running over there and tossing the whole pack then heading back to the hotel. But he’s come this far, he might as well at least say hi.

Ed turns off the southwest central spoke street and into the park near the hospital. He avoids the paths and instead walks across the grass and through the trees. It’s getting warmer every day and it’s nice to get in the shade, not to mention he’d rather take a direct path instead of the trails that wind around the park pond. His footsteps grow slower and more shuffling the nearer he gets to the hospital, but he won’t turn away. The more he’s thought about it the more he knows Havoc’s always been nice to him and the least he can do is let him know he cares.

He steps out onto the path up to the hospital about halfway up and shoves his hands in his pockets. He curls his fingers around the unopened pack of cigarettes and hopes he doesn’t seem silly for bringing them. He knows it’ll make him look cliché that the only thing he knows about him is that he smokes, but at least it’s something, right? Ed chews his lip as he reaches the front hospital stairs and takes each step deliberately. He’s trying to work better with Mustang, not his subordinates. He doesn’t want to involve anyone else, but considering Havoc’s already been injured by a homunculus Ed probably pissed off this is kinda his fault anyway. What if Havoc’s mad at him?

He nearly turns away the instant he reaches the front doors. But then a large woman with a kind face holds the door open for him as she’s leaving. He gives her a tight smile and shuffles inside not wanting to be rude. He takes a few steps into the foyer, scuffing his boots over the polished floors, and stares at the nurses’ station. Maybe it’ll be like the last time and they won’t let him in. He stands up a bit straighter at the thought. Yeah, that’s probably what’ll happen. Then he can say he tried and wasn’t able to. He can even blame Mustang for it!

With a satisfied look on his face and renewed determination, he stalks over to the nurses’ station actually pleased to see the one who gave him a hard time before behind the desk. If he hadn’t had Falman’s help she never would’ve let him see Mustang. Perfect. There’s no way she’ll let him back there now. His confidence growing he reaches up to rest his arm on the high counter and gives the nurse a smug look.

“Hey, yeah, I’m here to see Lieutenant Havoc. Could you tell me his room?” The dark haired nurse turns a bored look on him and he smirks a little more when she recognizes him. Her face hardens and he relaxes under her annoyed look. This is going to be perfect.

“One moment, Major. Let me see if you’re on the list.” She turns to shift through some folders on her desk and Ed’s nearly bouncing on his feet. When he goes back to Mustang’s tonight, he’ll be able to throw it in his face how he wants to work with him and doesn’t treat him like a member of his—“Okay, here it is, Major Elric. The Lieutenant’s in room 33. Just sign here and you can go back.”

Ed blinks as the nurse shoves a pen and clipboard his direction. He picks up the pen when she gives him a hard look and scribbles his name down before he can even think about it. As soon as she snatches it away, he finally finds his voice. “Um, wait. Are you sure I was on the list? I mean….”

“Yes, I’m sure, Major.” The nurse lets out an annoyed sigh as she picks up the original folder again. “It says right here you’re listed under the approved names as per Colonel Mustang.”

Seriously? Mustang actually put his name on a damn list? He blinks in stunned surprise again then nods. He’s not sure if he should be grateful or pissed as he turns from the desk and down the hall toward Havoc’s room. He doesn’t see much of anything as he makes his way down the hall because he can’t stop wondering if he should even be here. Obviously Mustang thinks he does, but why? Does it all go along with the weirdness that’s been Mustang lately? He has no idea but before he knows it he’s standing before the door with a 33 on it.

On some level he knows he’s being stupid. He just wishes he’d gone and got Al to come with him or that Hawkeye were outside the door or something. She’d let him know if it was okay with a single look. To be honest, she’d probably tell him Havoc didn’t need to be disturbed and he’d be fine with it. Now he’s here and he doesn’t know if the Lieutenant’s awake and he doesn’t want to be the one to—

The door suddenly opens and he barely has a chance to step out of the way before Lieutenant Breda runs into him. Breda stops short and Ed doesn’t miss the look of surprise that flashes over his face. That’s good enough for him. He can just go. But then Breda’s look turns into a grin and he calls out over his shoulder through the half open door behind him. “Hey, Jean, looks like you got another visitor to keep you company while I get lunch. Be nice.”

“If it’s Falman, tell him no thanks! I don’t need any damn paperwork updates! And if it’s Hawkeye….” Whatever else is said seems to be muffled and Ed doesn’t catch it. Havoc’s obviously awake though and he knows he’s here. Shit, why can’t Lieutenant Breda stay so he’s not alone?

“Hey, um, Lieutenant,” Ed hazards as Breda turns back from saying something else to Havoc. The door nearly closes behind him and he turns all his attention to Ed, the amusement of whatever Havoc said still on his face. “If you’d like, I could go get you some lunch. You know…so you don’t have to leave? I don’t mind.”

“I wouldn’t think of it!” Breda smiles and taps him on the shoulder. “It’s good to see you here, Ed. Jean’s having a better day than yesterday. Go on in.” He nods at Ed again then gives him a gentle shove toward the door. Ed has no choice but to follow and before he knows it the door closes behind him and he’s face to face with the Lieutenant and no one else.

Havoc’s mostly sitting up in bed, completely propped up on pillows, and as soon as he sees Ed he reaches over to the nightstand on his right for what looks to be a lighter. He gives Ed a nod then turns it over in his hand and Ed gets the feeling he’s missing something, but he has no idea what. Havoc tilts his head at him expectantly and Ed can only shift on his feet. Is he supposed to do something? Should he salute? He has no idea and can only manage a weak, “Hey.”

“Heya, Boss. How’s it going?” Havoc gives him that look again and Ed rubs the back of his head. What’s he missing? Havoc stares at him a moment longer before a grin breaks out on his face. Is he laughing at him? Ed frowns and that only seems to make Havoc’s smile grow. “He didn’t tell ya, did he?” Havoc chuckles and sets the lighter back on the side table. “Probably knew no one would dare try to imitate you. Too unpredictable.”

“Huh?” Ed blinks and takes a step closer to the bed. What is he talking about? Imitate him? Was Lieutenant Breda supposed to tell him something? No, the “him” has to Mustang. Ed scowls deeply. Apparently he’s still out of the loop about something. He fingers the pack of cigarettes in his pocket and just barely keeps from crushing them. “What did the bastard not tell me this time?”

Havocs laughs but immediately cuts it short and Ed can tell it’s causing him pain. But discomfort or not, it does nothing to diminish the smile on Havoc’s face. “You know I always liked that about you, Boss. Never afraid to say what you’re thinkin’.”

Ed shakes his head because that’s not an answer. He really shouldn’t be getting frustrated at a man in the hospital but he’s getting that way fast. Havoc’s still looking at him with amusement and Ed huffs at him. “Why do you do that, anyway?” Havoc frowns in question and Ed pulls his right hand out of his pocket to motion with it. “You know, call me ‘Boss.’ I’m not your boss.”

Havoc holds his gaze for a moment then shrugs slightly and leans back on the pillows a little more. “I dunno. Guess I just figured someone should.” He rolls his head across the pillows to look back at Ed again and Ed can see he’s not doing quite as well as he’s pretending he is. “Does it bother you?”

Well it did when he thought he was mocking him, but now…. “Nah, not really. I was just wondering.” He pulls the pack of cigarettes out of his left pocket and closes the distance between himself and the side of the bed. He holds out the pack and shrugs. “I dunno if these are even the right ones or if you can have them, but….”

“Ah! Ed, that’s awesome!” He reaches out quickly, wincing as he does, but the eager look in his eyes shows he doesn’t care. He snatches the pack out of Ed’s hand and nods. “Oh yeah, these’ll do. The Chief said he’d talk to the nurses, but they aren’t too keen on letting me have these.” He tears open the pack and then brings the whole thing up to his face and takes a deep breath. The look he makes is one of sheer delight and Ed can’t help but smile in response. Havoc turns his attention to Ed again then nods at the door. “You mind lockin’ that for me?”

“Nope. Not as long as you tell me what the Colonel didn’t.” Ed arches an eyebrow in question but turns toward the door all the same. Havoc nods at him and Ed flips the lock on the door.

“I guess that’s fair enough. You oughta know anyway.” Havoc reaches for the lighter and an empty cup beside him then nods to the chair on his left. Ed takes the seat with only a little hesitation then watches as Havoc pulls out a cigarette from the pack and brings it to his lips. His eyes close as he lights it and bliss spreads out over his features as he inhales. Ed’s never understood the appeal of smoking, but it’s obviously something that brings the Lieutenant a great deal of happiness and right now he sees no reason to deprive him. “Alright, so, you know about the crazy bitch that maimed me, right?”

“Yeah, Al told me about it.” Ed watches Havoc blow out a long stream of smoke and he’s thankful he does it in the opposite direction. “Seems like her name was Lust.”

“Ahhhh, Lust.” Havoc shakes his head then brings the cigarette to his lips for another slow drag. “Yeah, that fits. Shoulda seen past those….” He shakes his head again then taps the ash from his cigarette into the cup. “Anyway, there’s another one of those creatures that can apparently look like other people.”

“Yeah, Envy.” Ed nods then tilts his head when Havoc gives him a curious look. Did he say something wrong? Sure, it’s probably true they shouldn’t be discussing this here, but the Lieutenant doesn’t seem overly concerned. He probably thinks he’s not worth listening in on. It could be true, but it’s hard to know anything for sure anymore. Havoc’s look turns thoughtful and Ed loses his already short patience. “What?”

“Oh, nothing. I was just wondering….” He takes another pull on his cigarette then frowns at it probably because it’s mostly gone. He taps the ash off again and Ed has to wonder if he’s always this slow at getting to the point. “Are all their names vices?”

“Are they all…what?” Ed scrunches up his face because aren’t vices usually tied to religious things? He doesn’t know much about that and he doesn’t really want to. Sure reading about those festivals was interesting, but it’s all nonsense. Havoc gives him a look like he’s grown a second head and he shrugs at him. “I dunno. What do you mean by vices?”

“Well, you know.” Ed looks at him blankly and Havoc flicks the ash off his cigarette then takes one final drag before crushing it out in the cup. “It’s like those sins. There’s a list of them or something. You know, lust, gluttony, greed.” He tilts his head back against the pillows and looks upward. “Envy is one I’m pretty sure. There are more…maybe three or two?” He scratches the side of his neck then turns to look at Ed again. “Maybe look that up? I mean…if you think it’s anything.” He shrugs then glances down at the bed. “I dunno, just a thought when you mentioned the other two. It’s probably nothin’.”

“No, don’t say that.” Havoc turns his eyes up slightly to look at Ed but he doesn’t seem convinced. “Seriously. We don’t know anything about these guys and you could be right. It’s not something I would’ve thought of and I bet Mustang wouldn’t have either.” Havoc lifts his head and smiles slightly. He still looks a little doubtful and Ed wonders if he’s not usually listened to in matters like this. “I’ll look into it, but tell me, is it a religious thing or something?”

“Yeah, I think so. Seems like there were vices and maybe virtues too?” Havoc looks toward the ceiling and Ed’s intrigued. Would these monsters really be named for “sins” and if so, why? “There used to be an old guy who came into my parents’ store when I was a kid. He’d talk about things like that. Most people didn’t pay him no mind but I always found him interesting.”

Ed grins at the thought of a young Havoc listening to stories and it’s only then he realizes he doesn’t really know anything about him. He leans forward slightly, forearms on his thighs and wonders if it’s pushing too much to ask. Havoc doesn’t seem to mind talking about his past so far and he can always say no. Decision made Ed takes a breath and asks, “Where did you grow up? Did you spend a lot of time in your parents’ store?”

“Oh, yeah.” He nods and his smile from before returns but this time even broader. “I’m from a little town near the border in the East, a little north of East City.” He chuckles then sets the cup filled with ash and his lighter aside. The cigarettes, however, he shoves under one of his pillows. “Yeah, it was kinda in the middle of nowhere. Little farm community. Momma and Daddy run the general store out there. Have a little bit of everything.”

It’s only as he’s nodding that he realizes that statement wasn’t in the past tense. He tilts his head and toys with the cuff of his sleeve. “You said ‘run.’ Do they still have the store?”

“Yup, Still the best one around too.” He smiles with pride and sits up a little straighter against the pillows. “To be honest, that’s where I’d be if I weren’t in the military.” He glances down towards his legs then reaches for his cigarettes again. He lights one with practiced efficiency and shrugs. “I’m sure they’ll take me back. They can always use the help.”

“Back?” Ed sits bolt upright in his chair. Is Havoc leaving the military? No, that’s not fair! He’s just getting to know him. “What are you talking about? You’ll heal up soon enough, right? I know the bastard’ll still want you here. What do you—”

“Still can’t feel my legs, Boss.” Havoc’s entire countenance deflates right before Ed’s eyes and for the first time since he walked in Havoc looks defeated. His blue eyes turn flat and he fists his free hand in the sheets. “Pretty shitty I’ve got so much pain in my back with no feelin’ below the waist.” He looks toward the window and his voice sounds as hopeless as anyone Ed’s ever heard. “The Colonel doesn’t need a pawn that can’t move. I’m useless to him now. Might as well go back home.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Ed leans forward and opens his automail hand to catch the ash that falls from Havoc’s cigarette. Havoc turns to look at him, surprise evident on his face. “Mustang wouldn’t give up on you, and even if he did, you shouldn’t be giving up on yourself.” Havoc shakes his head and Ed’s face turns stony with resolve. “Don’t give me that shit. I have a brother who’s made of metal and you don’t see us giving up. You just have to move forward despite the shit life throws your way.”

“But the work I need to do requires legs and—”

“And I don’t care.” Havoc blinks in surprise then reaches over for the cup he used as an ashtray before. Ed dumps the ashes in his hand into it then sits back in his chair. “Are the doctors even sure it’s permanent?” Havoc reluctantly shakes his head and Ed presses his palms on his knees. “Even if they did, it doesn’t matter.” Havoc gives him a puzzled look and he shrugs. “I know someone who does medical alchemy with a Philosopher’s Stone. He can fix you, and if not, the rest of us will figure out something.” Ed locks his eyes with Havoc’s and gives him his most determined look. “Don’t you quit. I kinda like having a friend here who doesn’t annoy me and I don’t wanna have to chase you all the way back to the East.”

The corner of Havoc’s mouth turns up and he takes a drag of the mostly burned up cigarette. “So we’re friends now, huh?” Ed can hear the amusement in his voice, but it’s not mocking. He can tell he’s teasing and Ed goes right along with it.

“Yeah, and even if not, you called me ‘Boss,’ right? Well, as a boss, I’m telling you not to give up.” Havoc’s smile grows and that flat, glassy look thankfully fades from his eyes. “You got that, Lieutenant?”

“Yeah, Boss. I think so?” He finishes off the last of his smoke then hides the pack away the same as before. “You know, you might just have to keep comin’ by to remind me though. All these painkillers are doing horrible things to my memory.”

Ed’s eyes widen at the open invitation and he nods mutely. Sure they’re getting along, but he really didn’t expect Havoc to invite him back. He threw out the “friend” and “boss” cards just to try and get him to keep from giving up. He didn’t expect him to actually agree. Ed smiles and ducks his head slightly. He’s not used to getting along with anyone but Al and it’s kinda nice to think he has a new friend. “I guess I’ll just have to do that then.”

Havoc nods once as if that settled everything then relaxes back into the pillows more. He looks tired, and Ed can tell he’s hurting from the tension in his face. He should probably take the opportunity to go. He puts his hands on the arms of the chair to push himself up but only makes it halfway to his feet before Havoc starts talking again.

“You grew up in the East too, didn’t ya?” Havoc turns his eyes to look at him and Ed nods. “So you know what it’s like to grow up in the middle of nowhere too, right?” A tired smile curls Havoc’s lips and Ed drops back down into his chair. “Did you have harvest fair days? With the whole festival and stupid games and everything?”

“Ummm, yeah. We did.” Ed can tell Havoc’s tired but he can also read the hopeful look in his eyes. He understands it because he’s been in the same place before. Sometimes it’s just nice to…think about happier times. He doesn’t have many in his life, but how many times have he and Al done this exact thing when things have gotten tough? “Al was always better at them than I was, though. That stupid egg, spoon, carry relay thing always kicked my butt.”

Havoc’s eyes seem to sparkle with life at Ed’s words and he grins weakly. “At least you didn’t get tied to your sister who’s half your size for the three legged race!” Ed makes a face at the short comment and Havoc chuckles lightly. “Oh come on, I couldn’t even take a full stride! It wasn’t fair.”

“Being short isn’t fair either! You shouldn’t pick on people for that. It’s just rude.”

“You’re just saying that because you’re a shrimp.”

“Hey! Don’t make me tell the nurse where you hide your cigarettes!”

“I’ll just tell her you brought them.”

“Hey!”

Ed smiles at the easy banter and quietly curses to himself. Apparently the bastard was right again, though he’s not going to give him all the credit. He’s going to let Havoc have most of it. He just has to wonder why it took him so long to do this. It’s not easy to open up, but sometimes…it’s not half bad either.