Nightmare

Review replies: mirage, glad you enjoyed the chapter. Unfortunately, this is an angsty story. radcat, thank you. and I hoped the Pinako story would have that reaction. Lilith, yeah, Anton's a bastard. MustangsHavoc, sorry to shock you so much. Hope you enjoy this. Kuragari, you'll just have to see. Thanks for reading. irishd1988, as you were posting a review, I was working on the newest chapter. Thanks for reading. Sorry that I've created a little addiction for you.

Chapter 10

Ed could hear the other man coming into the room, even though the teen was technically still sleeping. He’d grown familiar to Mustang’s presence over the last few weeks, and like it or not, he now noticed the man despite himself. He slowly rallied, eyes opening to mere slits, just enough to see the dark-haired man leaving.

“What did you want?” Ed asked. “It’s late.”

“I didn’t mean to wake you, Ed,” Mustang said. It seemed odd to the teen that he had gotten used to hearing his commanding officer call him Ed.

“It’s okay,” Ed said. “What did you want? You couldn’t have just wanted to watch me sleep.”

The man hesitated just a moment, but inevitably shook his head. “I just wanted to see how you were. Your brother fell asleep in the living room and Riza is out cold in the guest room.”

“I’m here,” Ed said, as saying he was “fine” would have been ridiculously untruthful and to say the truth was more than most wanted to hear.

Roy nodded numbly.

“What about you?” Ed asked. “You’re moving around better than you have since your little performance earlier.”

Roy turned pink at that, a startling color against his pale skin. “New meds,” he said simply, as though he really didn’t want to be reminded any more about his strip show.

“That’s good,” Ed said. There was a period of silence, an awkwardness that really surprised the teen after all they’d been through. “Listen, Al won’t listen to me on this, but I thought maybe you would. That lawyer guy who was here earlier…” Ed saw the man flinched at the mention of the stranger with the familiar voice.

“Anton de Havilland,” Mustang provided, calmly. “Head of the attorney portion of JAG.”

Ed nodded. “Whatever his name is. You need to be really careful with him. I’m pretty sure he’s an alchemist, which means he’ll know things that other lawyers wouldn’t.”

Mustang neared Ed’s bed and took a seat beside him, his face looking surprised by this, and yet not, as though Ed had unknowingly stumbled across an answer to something that had been troubling him. “What?”

“Ed, why do you think that he would be an alchemist?”

“Well…” Ed couldn’t look the man in the eyes. He wasn’t even sure how much of this he could say aloud. “One time while I was at m-m… the fuhrer’s…” He looked up through his bangs to see what reaction the dark-haired man gave, but there was nothing, save for a single hand that reached up toward the railing of Ed’s bed. “there was this voice. I know it was his. He was talking with ma-the son of a bitch. And he said about using redstones and not wanting to lose limbs.”

Ed shook his head, not wanting to think about it, though he knew he had to do it. “I am sure he’s an alchemist. Al didn’t believe me, but I’m sure of it.”

“I believe you, too,” Roy said.

Ed’s head snapped up. “Why?”

“Well, you are never wrong when it comes to your intuition on something,” Mustang said.

Gold eyes narrowed as they started to analyze the other man’s face. Ed didn’t believe him that it was simply his intuition that Mustang was trusting. He didn’t dare say it. He might have felt much more comfortable around the older man, but he was still afraid to question him.

“Anton insinuated knowing something about alchemy,” Mustang said.

Ed nodded. “So that’s why you believed me.” He looked at the older man, and saw that he looked confused.

“I would have believed you, or at least investigated what you were saying, Ed.”

Again, Ed’s eyes searched the man’s face, and to his surprise, he believed him. It didn’t make sense that Mustang seemed to understand the way Ed was feeling more than anyone else. The teen just couldn’t make sense of it all.

Ed looked up at the man. “Why is it that you will believe me, trust my judgment when no one else will? You treat me differently than they do.”

“I will not say that I understand what you’ve gone through, Ed,” Mustang said. “I don’t think there are many people who could honestly say that. However, I will say that I can empathize with you.”

“I guess you do see a lot as a soldier,” Ed said to the older man.

Mustang’s mouth opened, then shut again. “Yes, yes, you do. But you don’t have to be in the military to experience them.”

Ed looked at the man. “Then, does it make any sense to you that I cut my hair?” Ed asked. “It didn’t seem to make much to anyone else. Al and Winry definitely didn’t understand.”

“Believe it or not, it did.” Mustang’s hand hadn’t moved from Ed’s railing, though the man was wise enough not to try to touch him. “You were trying to get rid of something that brought up bad memories, something that didn’t feel like it was yours any longer.”

Ed looked at Roy startled to realize that he was now thinking of him as Roy. “You didn’t just witness something like this, did you?”

The man paused, looking away from Ed before shaking his head. “it was consensual,” he said. “In a way, at least.”

“So, that’s why…” And, though he hadn’t done it since that first time, Ed found himself again putting his hand on the other man. He put the automail digits over Roy’s flesh ones. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to say you’re sorry for something like that,” the man said. “It’s nothing.”

Ed said nothing, only squeezed the flesh hand beneath his metal one.

********

Of course, if it had truly been nothing, it wouldn’t have occupied Roy’s thoughts when he finally went to sleep.

“You look really nice in that,” the woman said.

“It’s brand new,” Roy told her. “is Bobby home?”

“He’s visiting his father tonight,” she said. “it’s a long bike ride back to your house. Why don’t you stop in here for a minute?” Roy was hesitant. Bobby’s mother was one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen, and he just knew if he was left alone with her, he’d make a complete idiot of himself.

“I’ve got some hot chocolate in here,” she said. “It wouldn’t take a minute to mix up. It’s such a chilly day for fall. You could probably use it.”

Roy nodded and walked inside, though a little voice in the back of his head was telling him it was a bad idea and he’d end up doing something very stupid.

The fourteen-year-old went into the house. He’d been there dozens of times before.

“So did you get that shirt for your birthday?” she asked.

“Yeah. At my party last week,” he said.

“You’re getting to be such a grown young man.”

Roy nodded. “I’m allowed to do more at Mom and Dad’s store, too,” he said.

“You’ll do a fine job with that. And how is your alchemy going?”

“Mom’s taught me a lot. I wish she knew more about fire alchemy, though. It takes a lot of concentration and practice, but I think I could be really good at it.”

“I’m sure you could.” The woman returned with a mug of hot chocolate. Roy could smell her drink from where he sat. It smelled strongly of liquor and Roy could tell from the steam coming off of it that it was definitely hot.

“It’s called a hot tottie,” she explained. “I enjoy them on cool days.”

Roy seriously doubted anything that smelled like that could be enjoyable. He hated the smell and taste of alcohol. Still, the teem watched as the older woman brought the steaming drink to her lips and drank. She pulled the cup away and then ran a pink tongue over her ruby red lips.

Roy wondered if his parents would mind him being here with her. They both seemed to like Bobby well enough, but his mom… well, Ms. Fogle had a lot of talk about her. She was the only divorced woman in their little town. She was also very young, only thirty, with a son who was thirteen. She also had the habit of dressing younger than she even was and wearing that rich, red lipstick like stage actresses and even the ones in the new moving pictures did.

Roy still thought she was beautiful. To his fourteen-year-old mind, she was perfect.

“You really do look very nice in that sweater, Roy,” she said. “That color suits you, makes you look much older.”

Roy woke up with a throbbing headache as he tried to shake away the memory. Lynn Fogle, the woman who he’d trusted, who had been one of his best friend’s moms, who had inevitably taken his virginity that night.

He hated to remember it. The act itself had been quick and pressured largely by the older woman. He’d been eager because he was barely fourteen and completely enamored with her. What came after was worse yet than the experience itself. Most felt that he couldn’t have been pressured or reluctant because he was the male in the coupling, and men couldn’t be raped or forced by a woman. Some tried to pin it on the older woman, but no one in the authority would believe them. It didn’t even matter that she wasn’t an upstanding citizen. Roy must have been an active, willing participant who knew what he was doing.

“Because obviously every fourteen-year-old knows the implications of sex,” he muttered to himself in the darkness. He laid down and groaned. He didn’t want to think about this. Not tonight. Not ever.

********

“Thank you for agreeing to meet my sister at the station,” Armstrong said to a very tired Havoc.

“Sure. Why not? It’s only…” Havoc looked at his wristwatch. “Three in the morning.” He looked up at the normally boisterous older man, and couldn’t help but notice he looked fairly docile. “You’re not worried about her, are you?”

“Worried about my sister’s safety?” Armstrong shook his head. “Olivier is capable of taking care of herself.”

Havoc fought the smirk on his face. “You’re afraid of her.”

“Armstrongs do not fear their own family,” the large man said, trying to sound far more adamant than he obviously was. “An Armstrong does not injure an Armstrong. It is unheard of.”

“Unless they’re your sister?”

For the first time in the lieutenant’s memory, he saw the major’s full mouth, as it gaped at him. The tall man’s blue eyes looked away from him and toward the open space that would soon be the train from the north. “Olivier demands respect and obedience. If she does not get that… It is unpleasant.”

“So she takes after your mother then?” Havoc asked, almost instantly regretting it.

“My mother is a beautiful woman with a kindness that is unimaginable,” the alchemist turned on the younger man. “She may not have been born an Armstrong, but in her heart, she has the kindness and strength that has continued down the Armstrong line for generations. She raised my sisters and I as perfect examples of that same strength and heart, and we will pass on her own teachings through generations of the line.

“You saw my mother at a very formal education. You cannot speak of her as though she would be unpleasant or unkind. She is a warm woman once one gets to know her. Why, she helped father in his campaign in the South when he fought against rebels who were trying to undo the establishment of laws and regulations that the Amestris government had established. She also donates much of her time to area charities and orphanages—”

“Mother is a cold fish with a hardened demeanor, little brother. Do not oversell her ‘warmth of heart,’” a silky, rich female voice said. Havoc looked beyond the very tall man to find a woman who seemed to be more of the stepping stone between Katherine and the major. Though, to look at the beautiful older woman, Havoc had to admit that even as a stepping stone, it was a great leap to go from Olivier Armstrong to Alex Armstrong. She had her hand on a sword strapped to her side, and might as well have been wearing a sign that said “don’t mess with me.”

“Sister,” the major said, “it is very good to see you. Are you well?”

“Who are you?” she asked Havoc, entirely ignoring the brother who seemed to have shrunk almost ten inches in her presence.

“S-Second Lieutenant Havoc,” the smaller blond answered.

“So you are the one who impersonated your commanding officer, are you?”

“I… Yes, sir, ma’am… um… Major General,” Havoc stuttered.

“Your officer, he’s Mustang, isn’t he? One of the few men in this military that I genuinely believe has balls.” She looked Havoc up and down. “I suppose for you to have impersonated him you must be in possession of a pair yourself.”

“Sister, I was hoping that I could escort you to the homeplace—”

“I have just sat on a train for the last three days. I have no desire to go home and have Mother try to regulate my sleep and eating habits or have father pamper me. Surely the nightlife in Central cannot end at three a.m. If it does, I will seriously reconsider throwing in my hat for the position of Fuhrer.”

“There is a bar that runs around the clock,” Havoc said. “It is only for officers and their dates. I’ve never been, but Brigadier General Mustang used to frequent it.”

“Well then, Second Lieutenant Havoc, consider yourself my date for the evening.” She patted Havoc on his back so hard he lurched forward. “Brother, do me a favor and have my luggage dropped off at the house. I’ll be home sometime around noon, or as soon as my ‘date’ here decides he’s had enough.”

Havoc followed behind the older woman, not knowing if he should be pleased that he was a “date” of sorts for such a beautiful woman or if he should be frightened of what she meant by “had enough.”

********

Riza found herself roaming the halls of Roy's home late that night, or rather, early that morning. She was a normally active woman, and this constant state of nothingness was driving her mad. It had only been a few days, and with the prospect of a month at least of this, she nearly had herself stir crazy with just the thought. Really, by then, they'd have all killed one another, and she wondered if that wasn't de Havilland's plot. She couldn't imagine any of the four of them surviving for long. Well, save for Roy and the major. Those two were getting along almost frighteningly well.

Not that Riza wasn't enormously grateful for the change. She couldn't imagine if they were still yelling insults to one another, but she felt left out, somehow, when her closest friend and the major would talk to one another. This seemed particularly odd, as Roy had never kept much of anything from her, and Ed hadn't had that many people who really understood him. She had been one of the few, and had made it her job to help "translate" Edisms to Mustangisms. Really, she could have taught a class on the finer art. And now, neither seemed to need it. They were finally speaking the same language.

Looking in the living room at the tall teen sprawled out on the sofa, despite the fact that he had a bed in his own room, Riza felt she should at least be grateful that she was fluent in this new language. Al definitely did not. And he was completely out of the loop. He didn't seem to understand his brother any longer, and Ed was noticeably bitter that Al was whole and he wasn't. Not by a long shot.

The woman went into the living room and threw a blanket over the teen. She moved the book from his chest and brushed a few stray strands of hair from Al's face. She understood why he'd done what he did, even if it hurt both of the brothers that he’d done it.

She was startled as those nearly brown eyes opened. “Lieutenant Hawkeye?” he asked, voice raspy from sleep. He looked down at the blanket she had put on him. “Thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome, Alphonse. How are you feeling tonight?”

“I’m fine, lieutenant,” he said.

“Riza,” she corrected.

“Riza. I’m fine. I’m perfectly healthy.”

“I wasn’t inquiring about your health, Alphonse. This must be very trying for you as well. You do not need to be physically injured to feel emotionally or mentally drained. Caretakers rarely get the sympathy they are due.”

“I’m not his—” Al shook his head as he sat up. “I don’t want to think of myself that way, as his ‘caretaker.’ Most of the time when you hear that, it means that someone isn’t going to get better, and he has to, just has to get better.”

Riza sat beside him and wrapped an arm around him. “I know how you feel. I really do.”

“I know you do,” Al said, leaning into her touch, against her body. His own arm wrapped around her back. She turned so that she could better hold him, touch his face and hair. Each movement showed just how depriving those last four years had been for him. Just the simplest human contact meant the world to the teen.

Despite herself, the woman found tears prickling her eyes. He was such a sweet young man. He should never have been forced to suffer like this. After he got his body back, he should have been able to enjoy life, maybe with that Rockbell girl, maybe just travelling with his brother. He should have been able to hug Ed without the other teen recoiling from his touch because he’d been hurt so badly.

Life just wasn’t fair.

If it had been, the fifteen-year-old in a nineteen-year-old body would not have been kissing her.