Worlds Collide

A/N: Sadler Girl, I tried to make the proposal cute and Russell a smart ass. Glad you noticed. Fulcanelli, I always like hearing I've gotten someone who dislikes MPregs to read and enjoy. I felt the same way about Wrath in the movie. I've worked very hard to include all these characters, age them, but keep them who they are. The sex scenes sort of have their own mood for each couple, not that I've done a Kain/Frank one yet, but I've inferred it. Unfortunately, because of plot progression, there's a big skip, so the actual process is kind of glossed over for Nicholas's adaptation. Amethyst-Eyed Koneko, I wanted a different atmosphere for Russell/Wrath. Yes, I grew up on transformers (which is why I laugh every time I see they've got a serious movie coming out. And yes, Nicholas is Roy's son. No need for restraint with Dante and Tucker. nette, yep, Nicholas is a bit of a combo, and as a teen this chapter, he's more fun to write than his sister.

Chapter 40

Close Bonds

Two years later

“Oh no!” Nicholas yelled out, his right hand holding off his left. “I’ve lost control of my arm. It’s turning against me!” His left arm moved to his neck, the girl at his side working to pry his hand from his own neck. Then with roaring laughter, he released his neck, feeling the girl start smacking his shoulder.

“Nicholas Mustang, that is a terrible joke!”

“Oh, relax,” Nicholas’s friend Victor said. “He does this to all of us.”

“And you all fall for it.” Nicholas ran his hand through his hair. “I’d really think more people would know how automail works, but I’m disappointed every time.”

“So, did it really hurt?” the girl asked, rolling up the sleeve of his shirt to see the juncture between the metal and flesh.

“What part of it? I got it after being poisoned by a chimera, having my arm cut off, having nodes being attached to it. All of that hurt.” He said this lightly, to make sure she knew he was teasing. “But it doesn’t hurt now, unless I forget to turn off the nodes that let me feel.”

“So you can feel with this?” she grabbed his hand and started running her hand over the palm.

“Yep. Seems like cold metal, but I can feel every touch of your hand. Uncle Al and Aunt Winry have made a nice business with this technology, but it takes alchemy to activate and de-activate.”

The younger teen looked over his hand. “This arm’s strong, even your part of it, isn’t it?”

Nicholas smirked, looking remarkably like his fuhrer father as he did. “Yeah. That piece of metal is automatic weightlifting. I had to do work just to balance out my right. It was boring as hell to exercise just the one arm. There’s only so much you can do.”

“Oh,” Victor said, “there are some activities that develop the muscle in only one arm that I bet you didn’t mind doing.” He made a circle of his hand started doing a pumping motion with it. He earned some disapproving noises from the girls and a few slaps of his own.

“Thinking of you, Victor,” Nicholas said, quickly grabbing the shorter teen and planting a kiss on his cheek.

Victor immediately pushed Nicholas away, wiping his face. “That’s gross, man,” he said.

Nicholas only smiled.

As they all teased Victor about his various insecurities, Nicholas saw Aideen walking through the crowd of teens leaving the school, alone as usual, black leather messenger bag hanging at her side, probably full of alchemy books. She had her nose buried in one at the moment, short hair tucked behind her ears, wearing a black turtleneck, fitted black pants and black boots. Save for her eyes and the red lipstick she always wore, Aideen hardly ever had any color on anymore. Even her eyes only got black eyeliner and mascara, making her ivory skin seem ghostly in the right light.

Nicholas, as though unconsciously making up for his sister, rarely wore a shirt in even a pastel, preferring bright, vibrant colors. Even those items he owned in more neutral colors had something distinctive about them. Proudly, he’d found he had enough facial hair for sideburns, while the rest of his unruly mane seemed in a constant state between being long enough and too short to tie it back.

“You know,” one of the members of the outer circles of Nicholas’s friends said, “I still can’t believe the ice princess is your twin.”

Nicholas’s smile faded and he glared at the hanger-on of his group of friends.

“I’ll see most of you later,” he said.

As he walked away, Nicholas heard Victor berating the younger teen. “You dumbass. No one is close enough of a friend to say anything about Aideen. If made to choose between us or his sister, she wins hands down.”

Nicholas smiled at his loyal friend as he ran over to Aideen, throwing his right arm over her slim shoulders. “So what are we doing tonight, Little Sister?”

“Little?” she said, raising an eyebrow but continuing to read.

“Five minutes younger and three inches shorter. Makes you little to me.”

“Hmm.”

“Come on, not a comment about me crashing your date?” There was no response, even as they passed through a crowd of students Nicholas knew and greeted. Aideen continued to read, parting the group as they passed. Growing irritated with his sister, he began pulling at her left shirt sleeve.

“What are you doing?” she asked, glancing over from her book.

“Checking something.” He held his automail arm next to her flesh one. “Yep. I’m the one who lost the arm.”

“Your point being?”

Nicholas groaned as he spoke. “For you to lighten up.”

Aideen looked up from the book to glare at Nicholas, then went back, reading and walking.

“Aideen, over here!”

Nicholas glanced over to see that Phillip Armstrong had managed to convince his father into letting him borrow the convertible.

“So that’s where you disappeared to after school,” Nicholas said, running a hand over the curves of the vehicle, trying not to drool. “Hot damn!” Automail hand on the edge, he used it to catapult himself as he jumped over the side and into the back seat. He watched as Philllip leaned down just a bit to kiss Aideen before opening the passenger side door for her. She smiled, patting his hand and waiting far more patiently than was normal for her as her boyfriend got in the car.

“By the way, Phillip, thanks for letting me crash your date so our parents can go out and enjoy their anniversary.”

“No problem,” Phillip said, starting up the car.

“Don’t forget to keep your arm inside this time,” Aideen said. “Last time, you had it hanging out and practically burned me with it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s get going. I want to enjoy this weather while it lasts.”

********

Roy hung his coat up on the hall tree, walking out to the backyard and the lab. Thankfully, he knew Ed was here in Central. He’d honestly been afraid that his husband would still be away, since he’d left for Xenotime the day after the twins’ birthday.

Roy opened the door to the lab, hearing the sound of heavy, deep breathing, and finding the blond laying on a cot against the farthest wall. Al had obviously been here, as Ed was curled up with a blanket over him, a plush kitten in his arms. Roy shook his head and knelt beside his sleeping husband, not without a bit of difficulty as his knees weren’t cooperating with him today.

Looking at Ed, who was finally getting a bit of sleep, Roy felt wrong disturbing him, looking at how innocent he looked just lying there, despite the thin lines beginning at his eyes and his forehead. There was something left of the teenager he’d married fifteen years ago still present in that face, but Roy honestly preferred the man he had now. Though perhaps with a little more meat on his bones and without the sunburn that was just starting to fade.

But Ed was stubborn, and he rarely left his lab save for time with the twins or special occasions any more unless it was on a mission. If that hadn’t been for his hard-headed nature, he probably wouldn’t have dropped so much weight from forgetting to eat, and his skin wouldn’t have been so unaccustomed to sunlight that it burned the moment he spent more than five minutes in it. He and Roy hardly shared a bed, Ed spending most nights out in the lab, grabbing snatches of sleep when he could, Roy waiting up for hours before resigning himself to the fact that once again, he would have their large bed to himself.

Well, tonight was about them, and he was going to remind the younger man of that fact.

“Ed,” he said, kissing the somewhat chapped lips.

The gold eyes fluttered open just a bit. “What time is it?”

“Five-thirty. And our reservations are for seven.”

Ed looked at the stuffed animal in his arms, glaring at the soft thing Al had probably made himself as though he might be able to incinerate it just with his eyes. “Al’s been here.”

“Well, the two of you were working here earlier.”

“Why does he, a grown man think that I, a grown man, would want a plush toy?”

“You looked cute hugging it in your sleep.”

Now the eyes that had been trying to make the cat spontaneously combust were turned on him. “I am not cute.” Ed sat up looking at the toy.

“Trust me, you are.”

“Bastard.”

Trying to hide the struggle to stand, Roy made it to his feet and offered Ed a hand.

“Not as quick on your feet as you used to be.” Ed grinned as he said those words, but all Roy could manage was to snake his hands around the shorter man’s shoulders and hold him.

“I’ve missed you,” Roy said.

“I’ve been home for a day and a half.”

“Not for me.”

Ed looked up at him, at first argumentative, then met his eyes, reflecting the hurt that Roy assumed must have been in them. For a moment, Ed worried his lower lip, drawing it into his mouth until it disappeared. “You’re right.” Ed pulled Roy down until their lips pressed together, mouths moving with practiced skill, if somewhat rusty, opened and both melted into the kiss.

Roy knew that the last two years hadn’t been easy on either of them. They’d always fought and bickered, but the fights had been legitimate this time and far worse than any other point in their marriage he could remember. It had been two years of arguing, pouting, fighting. One fight got so bad Ed had even gone to stay with Al for a few nights, only to have his little brother and sister-in-law knock—literally—some sense into him. Roy swore that in these two years, he’d aged ten, his hair certainly showing it as the gray was winning against the black, the lines becoming just a bit more prominent and his body and mind having a constant feeling of exhaustion.

But that was nothing compared to the persistent ache in his chest. It was there constantly, this dull ache that only seemed to get worse when he had a major argument with Ed. It had grown so bad, Roy finally asked his older sister to check it out, fearing that a heart attack might be on the horizon. Aside from getting a lecture that he wasn’t taking proper care of himself, Raine had informed him the ache had nothing to do with his physical health. Then, she had suggested that his problem might have been something more emotional.

As he held Ed and felt his husband responding without concern over his most recent experiment, Roy confirmed everything Raine had told him. It was tied to the man in his arms right now, and apparently so was the exhaustion. For the first time in weeks, Roy felt just a bit lighter.

********

Frank was laying on the bed, watching as Kain undressed, twin gold rings reflecting the bit of light in the room. He almost wanted to laugh at himself. Hardened military man and spy that he was, he’d all but melted completely because of a pudgy, near-sighted, doe-eyed colonel who was just over nine years younger than him and a good seven inches shorter.

His husband.

He almost laughed again, trying to wrap his mind around that concept. He had married someone he loved, not out of obligation—at least not entirely—and that person loved him in return.

He watched as Kain took off his glasses, then fumbled around finding the bed struggling not only with his own practical blindness without the horn-rimmed specs, but because the lighting in the room was dim. The bed shifted as Kain knelt on it, crawling his way to the center where Frank laid, nothing covering him except a single sheet draped precariously over his waist.

“I didn’t get to tell you that one of my men is working on a lead on Shou Tucker.”

“Really?” Frank asked, running a hand through Kain’s thick, black hair. “I’m sure Ed will want to go after him personally.”

“That’s why I’m letting my man handle this. I’m afraid Ed might get too violent, and Tucker won’t be of any use to us.”

“I think a lot of us will get violent if we get our hands on him.”

Kain kissed him, right hand on Frank’s cheek the whole time. Ever since he’d told the younger man about how much he loved being touched, it seemed Kain didn’t stop doing it. The smaller man nuzzled against Frank’s neck, kissing and rubbing his nose against it like a puppy. Frank could see Kain’s other hand grabbing hold of a pillow and instinctively, he raised his hips and spread his legs for Kain to get in place. This was routine, and while many would have considered such ritualized movements dull, it never was for Frank. Enough of his life was uncertain, whether he or Kain could die on some senseless mission, whether war would break out, whether he would have to leave all he had here to return to his world. He didn’t care if what he and Kain did was repetitive, as long as they loved one another.

Frank wrapped his arms around the somewhat clammy back of his husband, feeling him move around him, over him.

“I love you,” Kain said against Frank’s chest.

“I love you too.” He grabbed hold of the man’s hips, hands gripping onto the spots that Kain loathed so much, his love handles. “I love you so damned much.” He moved his mouth to the younger man’s ear and ran his tongue around each ridge inside.

And as though the universe knew what they were doing, the doorbell rang.

“Damn,” Kain said, then looked at Frank embarrassed. It was so rare for him to even swear in the slightest.

Frank smirked. “That good, am I?” He slowly dragged himself out of bed, placing a kiss on Kain’s nose and moving his hand beneath the sheets to firmly grab hold of his husband. “Keep that thought.”

He could hear Kain laughing, probably rolling his eyes.

He tried to think of the most disgusting thoughts he could as he threw on a pair of comfortable pants. He hoped that whoever was at the door didn’t get embarrassed by his bare chest, or the fact that he had every intention of shooing them away and making love to the man waiting in their bed. He pulled the drawstring of his pants as he walked to the door in the kitchen. Opening the door with its tiny glass arch at the top, Frank gaped at the woman on the other side.

“Mother?”

“Frank, you said…” She was crying, clutching her wrist to her chest. “You said that if I needed you…”

“Of course,” he wrapped his arm around her back and gently clasped a hand around her shoulder as warning he was about to raise his voice. “Kain, come out here. It’s my mother.”

“I’ll be right out,” Kain replied back, as Frank guided his mother to one of the kitchen chairs.

Delicately, he took her left arm and hand and lowered it to the table, wincing as he heard her gasp in pain. “Mother, did he do this to you?”

She said nothing, instead, blinking away tears, an obvious affirmation of his suspicions.

“Does this happen often?” he asked as he looked at her broken wrist. Her face again gave away the truth. “This bad?”

“Only recently,” she said, Frank pushing gray hair from her eyes. “He has cancer, and it’s too far along now to be stopped. It’s my fault he didn’t go to the doctor. I wasn’t insistent enough. He had his gun, and had me scared, but ended up, it was just the lamp that he hit. I should have known better. He wouldn't actually shoot me”

Frank held her face in his hands, icy blue eyes looking into their mirrored pair. “It isn’t your fault, and you don't deserve to have a gun held at you under any circumstances.”

“Mrs. Archer?” Frank heard Kain say from behind him.

“Kain, can you call Raine while I go deal with this problem?”

“Frank, you can’t. Your father will calm down,” his mother said.

“He won’t have time,” Frank said, darkly before standing, kissing his mother on her forehead and his husband on his cheek. He grabbed a coat, wrapping it over his bare shoulders and chest and walked out the door, unsure what he’d do when he saw the bastard who’d created him—or at least this world’s version of him.

********

“What are you doing?” Wrath heard behind him.

“Trying to adjust the calculations for the nozzle on the rocket,” he answered, knowing that by the tone he’d heard in Russell’s voice, this wasn’t about to drop any time soon.

“Why can’t you just do this with alchemy?”

“Because the entire country can’t do alchemy,” Wrath said in a tone as though he was speaking to a child.

“Not our problem,” Russell said, leaning against the desk beside Wrath, pushing a piece of long hair out of his eyes. It never failed to amuse the former homunculus that even as Russell had now grown his hair enough to tie back at the nape of his neck, that damned piece in the front refused to stay away from his eyes.

“Well, I’m sorry, but unless you want me being the only rocket scientist with no time for other activities,” Wrath said, poking Russell in the hip with his pencil, “then I suggest you let me figure out how to do this the way I learned in Germany.”

Russell sighed, loudly.

“Don’t you have something useful to do?” Wrath asked.

“I suppose so. Al copied some of Ed’s work, since the mini-genius thinks he’s the only one who can find Dante. So Al’s been passing it around to the rest of us who can help. I think he just expects you to work off of mine.”
Wrath continued to work, noticing that Russell wasn’t moving, actually looking over his shoulder. “So they come up with all of this without alchemy in Germany?”

“Everything they have they do without alchemy.”

“Wow.” Wrath looked up at Russell, waiting for the sarcastic remark. “I’m serious. They’ve managed a lot, according to what you’ve told me.”

Wrath watched as Russell moved to the small sofa opposite the desk they shared, pulling out Ed’s research and reading, smiling at Wrath over the stack of paper, tucking the stray blond strands behind his ear. A year ago, Wrath would have had to lock Russell out of their apartment to keep him from jumping Wrath mid-research or egging Wrath on until it happened the other way around. Instead, they worked, exchanging dirty looks and promises of what they’d do the moment Wrath was satisfied with his work.

********

Ed looked across the table at Roy, who was going over his menu, wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose. Figures the man who could make an eyepatch sexy would look damned good in glasses.

“I thought we were going to miss our reservations,” Ed said.

“I hardly think it’s my fault that the damned puppy peed on my pants.”

“Not your fault, but entertaining as hell hearing you curse out the poor thing.”

“Poor thing? You’re as bad as Aideen, making excuses for it.”

“I told you to convince her to get a cat like Nicholas, but NOOO, when she spotted Flint, you had to go on and on about having a dog back in the house.” Ed glanced over his menu, doing his very best impersonation of his husband. “‘I love dogs!’” He got a little kick for that, only grinning in return.

“Well, I do. I’m just not so thrilled at puppies at the moment.”

Ed laid down his menu. “So is this my second meal?” he asked.

Roy said nothing, only raising an eyebrow over his glasses and the menu.

“You told me anyone carrying your children gets a free meal when you took me out the first time here. And I asked if I got two because they were twins.”

Roy closed his menu and extended a hand across the table. “I think you’ve had quite your share of free meals, Fullmetal.”

Ed put his hand in Roy’s. “Are we returning to old nicknames, Colonel Bastard?”

“Why not, Edo?”

“Don’t call me that.”

“What is your dislike of that name? After fifteen years of marriage, I think I deserve to know.”

“Aside from the fact that it makes me sound like I’m five?” Roy nodded. “My father used to call me that.”

“All these years, you’ve never told me that,” Roy said as he laced their fingers together.

“Not a particularly good memory.”

Roy leaned forward and kissed the palm of Ed’s hand.

“I’m not going to pretend to be ‘the girl’ tonight.”

Roy smirked, taking off the glasses. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

“So, after dinner, are we going to go to the movies and throw popcorn at one another?”

“I think the kids would get upset about us crashing their movie. Besides, I have very little desire to see a B movie horror flick.”

“Our life is already enough of one.” Ed felt Roy’s smooth palm rubbing over his own and smiled to himself.

“For one night, I don’t want to think about it,” Roy said, “but I’m sure you have an experiment going right now.”

“On our date?” Ed asked, surprised not at the accusation, but that he was caught.

“Probably one that doesn’t need monitored, but takes several hours to work.” Ed did his best not to gape at his husband in shock. “Ed, I know you too well.”

“Well, I can’t very well just stop. It’s not like you don’t have men casing down Tucker or Dante every waking hour. It’s just that I can’t assign my work to someone else.” Ed pulled his hand away, and folded his arms across his chest. Tonight was supposed to be different, and here they were, bickering again.

“You have Al, Wrath, Russell, Fletcher and Raine who would all gladly do some of it for you.”

Then there was that look in Roy’s eyes, that one from the lab that had made Ed buckle so easily into admitting Roy was right, when he really hadn’t been sure what Roy was right about. Ed figured it had to do with sex. They certainly hadn’t managed more than one quickie in the last month and a half, and before then, it seemed to be constantly make-up sex. It was never just because they wanted to, but because they needed to.

Looking in those eyes again, Ed realized that maybe it wasn’t sex that was the issue.

“What would you like?” the waiter asked, interrupting Ed’s thoughts.

Roy ordered first, then Ed, the blond only half acknowledging he was ordering anything at all.

Roy hadn’t meant that Ed wasn’t there physically, not that he really had been. He’d meant that Ed hadn’t been there mentally or emotionally for a long time, and as that finally sank into the stubborn young alchemist’s head, he felt guilty he hadn’t seen it before.

“Ed, are you okay?” Roy asked.

“Yes, I…” He took a deep breath. “I need to use the bathroom. I’ll be right back.”

Roy steepled his hands, elbows on the table. “At least this time you get to use the men’s room.”

Ed rolled his eyes and started to walk away, but he turned, pulling Roy’s arms off of the linen-covered table. “That’s bad etiquette,” he said as he grabbed the gradually graying head with both hands and mashed their mouths together, wondering if he might have bruised both their lips. He looked into the man’s eyes, seeing his own gold ones mirrored in their reflective black surface, and just a bit of that hurt he’d seen earlier gone.

********

Glasgow, Scotland

"Eddie, get back here!" Noa's husband yelled as he chased after the dark-haired three-year-old.

"Papap!" the two year old yelled as it sought out the tall blond in the crowd.

With a smile, Hohenheim picked up the little toddler, whose chubby little hands grabbed hold of his face.

"Eddie, you can't run off like that," the little boy's father said, making the set of dark brown eyes dart down and look apologetic.

"But, Papap," the little boy said.

Hohenheim loved this boy, not to mention his little baby brother Albert, names that had been Noa's idea with Hohenheim's approval. Still, every time this little squirming bundle called him "Papap," a twinge of guilt struck him, not only for the loss of getting to watch his own grandchildren grow up, but also for his presence in this Edward's life that his illness and Dante had prevented with his own Edward's.

As he handed the little boy over to his father, he heard someone yelling in the distance.

"Why won't you listen to me? My father was kidnapped! Armstrongs don't just run off. I saw him being taken!" A young man was thrown out onto the street.

Though he couldn't say exactly, Hohenheim felt that the name Armstrong was important, and he knew he needed to talk to this teenager.