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Nightmares	By : Khait_Khepri Category: Fullmetal Alchemist > Het - Male/Female Views: 2624 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist nor am I making money from the creation of this story. This is merely for entertainment purposes.

Chapter List
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Summary: Rowan Mustang’s got nightmares that don’t involve her puppy and she needs comfort. Thankfully Edward appears to give her exactly what she needs.
Note: Remember that not every relationship solely revolves around sex. This helps put some more character and relationship development in. And this is also a character exploration as to how Rowan/Roy would react to Hughes dying as well as to how Winry might react to such an odd pairing (further notes as to how I handle these situations can be found in my last chapter). Some of this turned nearly lyrical in my head when I read it over again, though.
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Maes Hughes was her long standing friend, confidant, brother, brother-in-arms, drinking buddy, and… he was dead. He had been dead for a month now and there were worries on her plate beyond when she’d next see Edward Elric somewhere other than in her very vivid and wonderful dreams. And Rowan missed Hughes terribly. The funeral had been a sick sort of thing where precious little Elicia, her goddaughter, had wailed miserably to the sky begging them to not bury her daddy as she clung to Gracia. The older woman had clung to her daughter, tears streaming down her face as the girl pled. It had rained that day, or so Rowan insisted. Hawkeye, her dearest female friend, had not protested thankfully. At least she was allowed the illusion that she was tougher than she really was. Under her tough-seeming exterior, though, her body felt like it was full of broken glass. Each time she pulled out her favorite whiskey, she’d think about Hughes… and then think about Edward. And the she’d down two fingers and resolutely put it back in the cabinet. That bottle was nearly empty.
She’d been in Central for two days now since the transfer and she was headed to the office to see about some paperwork. When the car she was using pulled to a halt outside Central Headquarters, she was astonished to see that familiar red coat topped by that golden head of hair and that tall suit of armor nearby. Exiting the car smoothly, she kept her face serene-seeming though one glance from Hawkeye told her that the sniper had seen straight past her calm exterior and right into her heart which vibrated with a disgusting amount of glee. Edward wasn’t supposed to make her feel like a giddy school girl! She was supposed to be a professional and cool Colonel and… Who was she kidding? Edward was hers and he’d come back though that look on his face of bewilderment even as he swept her form with his eyes told her that he’d not expected to see her. And who was that busty hussy with him? Er… them? Yes, them. Edward and Alphonse. Not just Ed by himself. ‘I want him by himself.’ Rowan stopped paying attention to the near incoherent and decidedly jealous babble her brain had managed to thrust upon her. “Well, if it isn’t Fullmetal?” she said with her usual mocking tease that had none of the edge it would have just a few months ago, seeking out his eyes as he straightened. He met hers instantly enough though he managed to keep from blushing at the sight of her.
“Good morning, Colonel!” chirped the charming Alphonse and she smiled up at the tall armor.
“Hello, Alphonse. How are you two doing?” she replied warmly but not with the same kind of warmth that she would have expressed to Edward where there were no listening ears save for those in the know.
“We’re doing well. Oh, and this is Winry, our friend.” Having had the girl ‘brought to her attention’, Rowan permitted herself to eye the girl speculatively. She was shorter than Rowan, taller than Edward (though that wasn’t hard) and distinctly Amestrian with that blonde hair and blue eyes and curvaceous frame. ‘She is very pretty,’ mused the Colonel even as she extended out a hand to the young woman.
“Pleasure to meet you Miss Winry,” she said cordially though it took a surprising amount of effort to keep from pinching the bint’s hand off the moment it was slipped into hers for a handshake. The way she stood near Edward made her think she had competition. “I am Rowan Mustang, rank Colonel.” She’d show that little hussy she was no competition when it came to Edward Elric! But first, to seem classy and aloof. “And the Flame Alchemist.” Okay, a little pettiness was not out of the ordinary. Showing that she had smarts was not too petty, though. She hoped.
“I remember you,” the upstart chit said to her as she shook her hand before releasing it. “You were that lady that came with Miss Hawkeye to Resembool.” Rowan’s mind scrambled and realized the girl was right. Damn, the girl was a long standing friend of the two and if she recalled correctly Winry was also the name of Edward’s automail mechanic in Resembool.
“Ah, you are correct,” she tried to say with a friendly smile. Do not beat the brat. Do not beat the brat for being too damn close for comfort to what was hers! “It has been a while, Miss Winry. You have certainly turned into a beautiful young woman. I’m sure there are quite a few men that follow you about.” ‘And Edward better not be one of them!’ her mind hissed with all the fury of a jealous woman.
Edward was being mildly entertained by the obvious effort that Rowan was putting into being polite towards Winry. It was obvious that after every compliment the elder woman paid to the blonde, it seemed like she was about to whip out her ignition gloves and snap the teenage girl into embers. Not that Ed feared for Winry’s life. Rowan had far more control than that. Or so he believed. And he had long given into calling her ‘Rowan’ within his mind, especially after the conversation he’d had with his Teacher.
“So why are you guys over here in Central? Taking a trip?” he asked, trying to divert the start of a cat fight. While the thought of Rowan Mustang losing her cool over potential competition was highly entertaining, he didn’t really want to see Winry hurt. Unfortunately for Winry, however, Edward’s mind and body were currently held by the Flame Colonel and the way things were going, he was certain she’d own his soul soon, too. While he deeply cared for his childhood friend, it was equally obvious that she was too violent for him. He didn’t appreciate being beamed with wrenches or being screamed at. Sure, Rowan’s taunts were aggravating, too, but at the same time they were fun and she hadn’t ever laid a hand on him save to make him writhe in pleasure… Well, save for the Battle Royale, and he’d been the one chomping at the bit for that particular mess.
“No, no. We were transferred here two days ago,” Rowan replied, smirking at Edward. “And why are you two here?”
“We came to see about gathering some information,” her Adonis said and she suddenly caught sight of the fact he’d altered the short jacket that resided under his coat. Well, didn’t he look sharper now? “We’re researching the usual… And to see Lieutenant Colonel Hughes.” Her blood froze as her mind flashed to his funeral, his sobbing child and mourning wife, his horrid murder in that phone booth, his… “How’s he doing?” asked the sweetly oblivious Edward, looking up at her and Hawkeye. She had not scolded Armstrong for not telling them of her friend’s death when he had met up with them in Dublith. She had said she would tell him herself.
“He’s… no longer here,” she said, looking away to hide the partial lie. He certainly wasn’t here anymore. “He went back to the countryside.” ‘Lying, stinking wretched woman,’ she thought to herself sourly even as Hawkeye gave her a slightly pained look. “Central had some recent disturbances… His wife and child also went to the countryside with him. They went to take over the family business. He’s no longer in Central.”
Blatant lies. Blatant lies… Catch her in it, please. Catch her and denounce her and call her a horrible person. She couldn’t stand the clawing pain and dragging glass just below her skin. She dishonored Hughes like this. She needed a drink. She needed her Edward. She couldn’t stand herself. Such blatant and horrible lies… No longer did she have the right to call Armstrong a good person for she was a coward.
“Is that so…” sighed Ed, eyeing her stiff back in concern. She was tense, but for reasons he didn’t know, and he couldn’t ask for there was no privacy here. “What a disappointment.”
“A military man’s job is quite dangerous,” she heard Alphonse say. “Maybe it’s for the better.”
“I hope we can see him again soon,” the blond girl, Winry, said and she sounded disappointed.
“If I hear anything on your research, I’ll pass it along to you,” Rowan said in a monotone even as she walked away. “Let’s go, First Lieutenant.”
“Yes, ma’am,” responded Hawkeye, following behind her. She knew what Hawkeye wanted to say to her… and naturally the woman didn’t fail to do exactly as expected. But before they left earshot of the trio at the gate, she turned back.
“Fullmetal…” ‘Edward,’ her mind whispered. “To be frank, don’t do anything absurd.” ‘Please don’t go haring off into the dark and get hurt or killed like Hughes.’ Edward gave her a long look, seeing the honest worry in her eyes.
“Er… we’ll try to keep our activities in check,” he responded slowly, realizing there was definitely more going on than what she was saying. Her mind whispered a relieved ‘thank you’ even as she nodded to him. Turning on heel, Hawkeye right behind her, she moved further into the complex. Oh that sweet, pretty thing of hers… he would be her undoing. After minding Hawkeye’s worried words, she turned to her subordinate. “Pull everything of Maria Ross’s file. Right down to her dental records.” It was time to find out truths.
Winry was a woman and Winry had feminine intuition. As a result, Winry obviously realized that there was something between that Colonel Rowan Mustang and Edward. Edward was glad that she chose not to flagrantly throw this out in public domain, waiting until after they’d gotten to the privacy of one of the hotel rooms he rented. Unfortunately, he could not hide from her tongue lashing at that point once she realized she’d been right and Edward had slept twice with a woman twice his age. And the fact that Alphonse had known and had kept silent had riled her even further. It didn’t help that he’d tried to defend the situation and Rowan. And when he’d used her first name rather than ‘the Colonel’, ‘Mustang’, or even ‘that bitch’, Winry knew she was losing him. By the time he had vaguely explained what had been said the second time the two alchemists had tangled, she knew she’d lost him.
She could see what attracted the sunny haired and eyed teen to the older woman. Rowan Mustang was exotically beautiful, obviously smart, worldly, and seemed to enjoy teasing him in a manner that inspired him to want to try and out-think her. The fact that she was taller than Edward didn’t seem to bother him at all. And Alphonse obviously condoned it, even going so far as to mortify Ed by telling Winry about Ed’s continual Nightmares. Oh, that was definitely a capital ‘N’ on that word now when Ed explained his little revelation of the breakdown of the word to Alphonse some time back. Almost every night, Ed’s ‘mare’ would come to him.
And Winry had left them at that point to go to her own room, angry and upset and hurt. She had hoped to one day marry the other fifteen-year-old, but she doubted it would happen now. Edward was always so oblivious when it came to her.
Rowan sat in her office as tense as a bowstring as she listened to the communications radio near her elbow. It was silent in her office as no one was present. She had done all that she could and now… it was time to wait. Havoc was in position. Falman had been ‘quietly’ put to sleep by the empty armor known as ‘Barry the Chopper’. Rowan supposed it to be a good thing that the armor had no interest in actually gutting her man. It had been disturbing enough for the death row inmate to offer to slice her up as he felt she was quite pretty, though not as pretty as Hawkeye apparently was to him. She was brought out of her musings as a wail went up, splitting the relative silence of the darkened city. The prison… Her radio crackled to life, sending out a call that Maria Ross, the ‘killer’ of Hughes, had escaped and that she was to be apprehended if at all possible and gunned down if uncooperative. She took her gloves from her desk drawer. Everything was in place… except her. Now, hopefully everything went smoothly…
…Naturally it wouldn’t. Edward was staring at her in a horrified way across the false corpse of what he assumed was Maria Ross. She had barbequed the fake into a charred mess after stashing the real woman in the warehouse next to her via the dumpster near her and her subordinate Jean Havoc, rank Second Lieutenant. He was yelling at her as he moved across the corpse to snatch at the front of her coat and shake at her. The words were a blur to her as his eyes shown with unshed tears. She wanted to tell him the truth. She wanted to tell him that, no, Ross was not dead. But she couldn’t. He was involved now. This act had to be perfect and she was afraid to tell him the truth and let him betray the hand of cards she held. She hadn’t the heart to hit him like her first instinct was for grabbing at her like that. So, instead… Rowan untangled his fingers from her jacket and pushed him away far more gently than what any other superior officer would have done before she loudly scolded him for manhandling her. She tried to convey the apology for her tongue lashing with her eyes, but he was so blinded by his pain. Oh, her Edward… And she apologized to him for not telling him about Hughes’s death. She hadn’t wanted him to find out about it through the paper of all things and she figured that was how he’d discovered the truth.
He turned from her and the glass that she felt stabbing at her innards at the mere thought of Hughes now tripled at the sight of that back stiffly turned against her. Oh, she wanted to gather him to her, whisper in his ear all her sins and all her plans but the officers finally appeared there and she couldn’t do a thing. But she did keep an eye on her little alchemist and his little brother. That smartass Douglas that had taken over Hughes’s position was aggravating and she traded barbs almost absently with him. This was a nightmare to her, not being able to get close to Edward and kiss the pain away from his grieved form. It hurt all the worse to know she’d been the one to cause it. Jagged glass pulling under her skin, slicing at soft bits and pieces inside, digging, digging…
By the time they arrived at the military hospital, she was surprised to see her old war buddy Dr. Knox doing the autopsy. That actually made things easier. He was smart enough to know exactly what her burns would do thanks to those nasty human experiments they’d been forced to participate in while out in Ishval. He’d notice what was wrong without saying a word. And he would know she’d have her reasons. Best of all, he would keep silent. Why not? Why shouldn’t he? He knew that the ‘Heroine of Ishval’ had many reasons to burn her enemies, but to flambé a girl to char just because she supposedly killed her best friend and had been declared guilty without trial? No, Knox would know she’d not do that.
And he played his part perfectly without prompting, even dropping hints that he had caught what she’d done without being obvious. He had covered for her. And she was grateful. Brothers in arms, indeed, even if she was a woman. She stood to leave but was immediately approached by Armstrong. The big man gave a stiff little bow in the Flame’s direction. “About the awful matter my subordinate was involved in this time…” he rumbled.
“You need not apologize,” sighed Rowan, turning to go.
“…I do not think that Second Lieutenant Ross can be a murder suspect. She was honest and diligent,” continued Armstrong. “And considerate!” His voice broke with a strangled sob and his frame shook. “Considerate…” he rumbled again. She looked at him in consideration as the big man sat heavily, covering his face with his huge hand, trying to stifle the onset of tears. She felt horrible though she didn’t let it show. Another person trapped in an unending, unpleasant nightmare. She remembered how tale had been carried to her via Hughes (broken glass digging, digging) that he broke down in Ishval, cradling that dead child, and decided that perhaps she could relieve this nightmare a bit.
“You seem to have accumulated a bit of stress, Major,” Rowan told him, not edging her voice with kindness but it was not hard either. “Why don’t you take a vacation, hm?” She paused for a bit as if she was thinking. “That’s right… I was in the East. That’ll be a nice place… It doesn’t have the noises a city has, and it is quite peaceful. As I understand it, there are quite a lot of beautiful women out there as well…” Blatant hints aside, she cast a long look at Edward who stared at her with confused and angry eyes still. She made a mental note and left. Behind her came the rattling crash of a trashcan and she knew her little lover had lashed out at the only thing he felt safe to lash out at.
She made quiet little arrangements to have both Armstrong and Edward brought to her but separately and in separate places. Armstrong, of course, was first, and she gave him very deliberate orders. As for her paramour… When he was brought in by an irritated Hawkeye before the sniper resolutely left with the door shutting behind her, Edward glowered and stared until Rowan sighed.
“Why did you kill her?” demanded her little hot head.
“You’re going to be going East,” she said, ignoring his question. They weren’t in her office but rather an out-of-the-way bar and she was dressed in civilian clothing, prim and proper and in a nice black twill pencil skirt that went to just below her knees with a loose silky pale green blouse with the hem tucked in finished with a simple pair of black pumps. She eyed him as he just glared at her obvious avoidance of his question. “Major Armstrong will come and get you. Go along with whatever mad scheme he will likely come up with and I promise your questions will be satisfied.”
“Why don’t you just tell me now?” he demanded petulantly, shoulders still stiff.
“Because I don’t have all the answers right now,” she sighed. “My reasoning is simple enough and by going out that direction, you will invariably find out before I do.” Rowan gave him a smile. “Won’t that be nice for once? Knowing something I don’t?” She ached to touch him, but the glass digging under her skin stopped her from closing the distance. She knew he was on edge. She had the suspicion that he would flee if she made the first move. She didn’t want him to run away. Edward watched her closely, trying to see if there was any deceit in her gaze or movements. Where before she had been closed off and warily stiff, Rowan seemed to now be open though some things were still hidden. He had sense enough to see that there was something underneath what she was telling him. And she was giving him a look that whispered she needed him but she was clearly afraid to do something about it at the same time.
He looked at her, observing her pretty face and form once more. Without the uniform she customarily wore, she seemed positively breathtaking and the way she was seated didn’t permit a peek up her skirt but he definitely felt she was likely wearing some of those empowering panties she’d shown him last time. Maybe they were the red lace ones again? It was private, this little back room she had occupied in this bar. And he wanted to touch her. He needed the reassurance. They both obviously hurt from this whole mess with Hughes and Ross and all this shit. Stepping forward, he watched as her dark eyes light up with a flicker of joy. And by the time he sat down next to her, she was cautiously running her fingers against his jaw.
He leaned into that touch and shifted his head to press lips against her palm. Before he realized it, she had seized him close and tremblingly held him. The broken glass in her tore at her, but it hurt less now that he was there and close and touching her… His arms came up and circled her shoulders as she sagged down, pushing her head under his chin. She shook like a leaf, not wanting to cry piteously at the pain of having lost her longest and dearest friend. And he really was, for Hawkeye had been a good friend but she had partially withdrawn when the Flame Alchemist had made a name for herself with the sniper’s father’s greatest work. And she figured that Hawkeye also partially blamed her for offering a path that took her into the military and for indirectly sullying her hands with blood with her guns. It was not enough to drive the other woman away as common sense said Rowan had not forced her, but still…
Edward wasn’t sure what to do as he held Rowan to him. Her trembling soon subsided and he realized that his fingers were running through black shoulder length hair of their own accord. She sat up properly, looking at him with those pretty almond-shaped eyes despite their bloodshot and puffy appearance now, her shoulders sagging. “Thank you,” she said softly, running her hand along his cheek to accentuate the words. “Truly… thank you.” He stared at her before lowering his gaze as her hand fell to his shoulder.
“You’re welcome,” he offered, not certain those words were the right ones. He looked up, sunny eyes meeting midnight ones. “I’m sorry… about manhandling you.”
“You don’t have to apologize for that,” she told him with a wry smile still wet with the tears she’d cried. “I would have probably hit me had I been in your shoes. But seriously, Edward… Go east. See what you find there.” Her hand slid from his shoulder to grip his hand. She realized it was his automail hand, but he looked at it and squeezed it reassuringly despite the fact he couldn’t feel it. Seeing it was a comfort still.
“I will,” he promised her, running a steel thumb over her knuckles. Rowan absently wondered how long he’d worked to regain such a natural sense of how to grip and touch things with his automail hand. He was incredibly dexterous with it and incredibly gentle. When he looked up at her, she could see his want. The want to touch further, to hold each other after a very passionate round of lovemaking, and to drive each other over the edge… But he also seemed to realize now was not the time and for that she was grateful. He had a sense of decorum even if he flaunted otherwise. But there was still a sense of want. And he leaned to her, eyes fastened to her mouth, and she knew what he wanted.
Obligingly, she leaned in and kissed him, sweet and chaste at first. It then became sloppier as they worked to sate some of the need for skin-to-skin contact. She felt a thrill through her as he took the back of his flesh index finger clothed in fabric against her jawline and ran it down the side of her face. A sweet promise of caring in her eyes even if he didn’t necessarily know what such a gesture could inspire in another… And then the dangerous point came where she wanted more and knew she couldn’t have it. Not now at least.
Separating, they panted lightly and she slid her thumb over his sinfully silky lips that had swollen from their kiss, noticing his eyes had darkened with desire. Those sweet lips pressed out against her thumb, giving her another kiss as he stared at her intently.
“You’re like a drug,” she accused lightly with no hint of rancor, knowing her lips were just as tenderly swollen. “I keep wanting more.”
“No kidding,” he grunted in return, feeling much the same. “I made Winry angry at me.”
“Oh?”
“She said you were using me, among all the other crap she screeched.” Eyes turned down, not looking at her even as she gently stroked the sides of his face with that one hand. Her other was still in his automail one. “Maybe so, but you… you’ve not seemed cruel about it at least.” The hand stilled and he looked up to see her surprised gaze before it turned thoughtful.
“I’ll admit at first it was more of a dare to myself and for my own amusement,” she admitted blandly. “But you rarely left my mind after that and you started stalking my dreams, too. I have to say, seeing you at night is far better than my usual brand of dreams. And I suddenly realized you were more important to me than I’d anticipated. My initial reaction to you had been written off as an adult needing to mind an unruly child but you proved over and over again you weren’t simply a regular child that needed minding. Guidance, yes, but not true minding. And in serious need of learning the politics of the military…” She grimaced slightly, remembering how she had flipped his blackmail back on him and pinned him flat with it at the tender age of twelve. That had been crass, but he had needed to learn. Loose lips meant danger for her and hers and at the time he had been a virtual unknown. “And then you got older and our arguments grew into a game despite your intent to try and one-up me and my intent to rile you. I say this and spur you to say that and it became so wonderfully involved and complex that I slowly stopped seeing you as that little boy I saw in Resembool four years ago. And then Alphonse changed the game with his tales of your nightmares…” She was startled when he snorted in amusement. “What?” she asked.
“Break it down, Mustang,” he said with a drawl while emphasizing her last name. “Night mare. At night a mustang mare comes to me.” She blinked at him before letting out a delighted laugh. She’d not thought of that before at all!
“Truly nightmares!” she chuckled, her eyes brightening.
“With a capital ‘N’ nowadays,” he added with a grin, feeling her index finger on his lip. And then she was pressing her lips against his, displaying affection as she nipped and pecked. She pulled back right as he began to respond in earnest.
“And that right there is why I adore you,” she purred, pulling her other hand free and cupping his face between both hands. “Your wit, your drive, your sense of self… You have more complexities than men twice your age and even if most people say what we are doing is wrong, I can’t help but feel it right. As I said at first, when Alphonse came with word of your…” She gave a brief chuckle. “Nightmares… It was more like a dare to myself. But you wouldn’t leave me alone even after I ran you off to Liore with a mission and a taunt. You wouldn’t leave me alone even when I avoided seeing you off at the train station when you went to Resembool for repairs under Armstrong’s care. You wouldn’t leave me alone. And now, I hurt you but I know I’ll be able to fix it.” She gave him a mysterious smile. “Have a safe trip, Edward.”
“Running me off again?” he mocked, remembering the issues he had with her at the moment.
“I hope you come running back,” she replied as she let him go and stood up. “Now, I need to see about getting dressed to go to work. So much to do and so little time… You need to go back to your hotel room. I have no idea when that giant is going to snatch you up.”
She got word that he had been picked up by Armstrong and then there was that horrible mess down below Lab Three. Oh, how she hated having lost Havoc because of that wretched bitch Lust but satisfaction burned in her for having removed her from this terrible game with her flames. And there was a bitter irony that she’d beaten the homunculus bearing the name of the ‘sin’ she was accused of having committed the most.
Now she had to hope that Edward did not mind the ugly scars that tore up her side and marred her hand. Being in this hospital room was hard, knowing that her usual bullshit of needing to have handsome male nurses couldn’t fly anymore since Edward had coiled his fingers around her heart and every damn one of her subordinates knew it. Oh, how the mighty have fallen… At least she had some nice ‘Nightmares’ to comfort her through the recovery. Or would that be ‘Nightstallion’? Edward was certainly no ‘mare’.
With a content little smirk, she fell asleep. At least they had all survived the incident, and perhaps she could discover a way to fix Havoc’s back. With Hawkeye standing over them, she knew the two of them would be fine. And please let Edward not be too pissed that she’d led Alphonse off to get damaged…
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Nightmares