Nightmare

Review Replies: chelzi, this one might make you a little happier. radcat, Thank you so much. The plot will be mostly political and emotional, so glad you're looking forward to where it's going.

Chapter 8

Roy watched from the car as his home came into view, though he was currently seething at the two guards in the seat opposite him. Really, what did they think he and Fullmetal were going to do? He could forgive the two guards in the seat at either side of him. Two were understandable, and he could sit up easily. It was the two sitting next to Ed that were making him so angry. Sitting upright for any length of time was difficult for the younger man, particularly considering the broken leg that needed to be kept elevated.

At the moment, it rested in Roy’s lap, and the brigadier general wasn’t complaining. He knew it was necessary for Ed to keep it upright, but the fact that the two men were sitting so close, resting right against the teen, that was what was making Roy angry. He only had to look at Ed to see that he was practically hyperventilating at the close contact with the two males.

Roy merely held the teen’s gaze as best he could until the car came to a stop in front of his home. Once there was the familiar lurch and halting of movement, Roy watched the two soldiers near the door to Roy’s right exit the vehicle. They got the wheelchair out for the teen and began setting it up.

“They will have to help you get into the chair,” Roy explained. “But I’ll be here the whole time.” Ed only nodded. If the older man could have helped Ed into the chair, he would have, but his left arm was still too weak to do much of anything, though the doctors assured him it was “healing nicely.”

Although Roy was still angry at the fact that Ed had been crammed into that seat with the soldiers like three sardines, he had to admit that the one who had been on Ed’s left and the one from Roy’s right were being as gentle as possible with the teen as they helped him from the car and into the chair. It didn’t stop the terrified look from washing over Ed’s entire face, but they were doing exactly what was necessary.

Roy was allowed to exit the vehicle next, as the soldier who was now along on Ed’s seat exited from the left door, the one who remained behind helped to guide Roy out the right. One soldier did his best to take care of Ed’s wheelchair while the other offered a hand to the brigadier general.

Stubbornly, Roy did not take the hand, but he did manage to exit the vehicle and wait for the armed guards to flank him to his own house. With the bars that had been added to each window and door, Roy thought his home looked more like a prison than a home any longer. He was tempted more than he’d admit to turn them into ghastly decorative features when this was all over, maybe even sooner.

The military engineers had built a sturdy, though aesthetically unappealing ramp to the front of Roy’s porch. For just a moment, he smiled at that. For as ugly as the changes to his home were, and as much as he hated them, he had to admit that the idea that this was irritating the homeowners’ association in his neighborhood brought him at least some pleasure. Perhaps the military’s law system had allowed them to temporarily remove the sticks out of their collective asses. Perhaps they were allowing this with hopes that it would get rid of the man who regularly set things aflame in his back yard and would leave scorched patches of grass without re-sodding the “eyesore” in their precious upper-middle-class neighborhood.

If only they had any idea of how juvenile the brigadier general could be. He’d have to tell Ed about the times he’d used alchemy to set aflame bags of dog crap—many of which were donated by Black Hayate—on each and every doorstep and even some of the air control he had through his alchemy to bang on each of their doors.

Ed might appreciate that. Stories like that, it seemed, took Ed’s mind off of the present, off of the recent past. If there was alchemy involved, he would probably then inform Roy of how he could have made the prank better or less obvious that he had been the one to perpetrate it.

Getting Ed’s mind off of things was proving more difficult with each passing day. Roy could take a guess at what was troubling him, but really, there was so much that could be. Ed might have to testify to what that damned bastard had done to him, and that naturally had Ed upset. Including the concern of having Al on trial, possibly even Roy, though the older man wasn't sure he ranked so high in the teen's book just yet. There were also the old fears, like the discovery of the human transmutation the brothers had performed as children.

Roy didn’t envy Ed the prison that was his mind.

“This is where you live?” Ed asked.

“When I’m in Central,” Roy said. “Though the bars are a new addition.”

“It’s funny they think this can hold us in,” Ed said to him. “We’re alchemists. If we really wanted to escape, we could.”

“No, sir,” one of the soldiers said. “You couldn’t. An alchemist came and activated defensive transmutations on the structure of the house. You can perform alchemy inside, but nowhere can you perform it on the outside.”

“However, if given the word, a number of your guards would be willing to help you out, should you ever require it. The others nodded.

“We know what you have done for this country, Sir. We have guarded people who obviously did nothing wrong, and we hope we will not be doing so ever again,” the first said.

Roy smiled and nodded at them.

A third soldier spoke up. “I must also inform you, as the person who installed them in your home, the bugs in your kitchen, living room and dining room are functioning properly, but they are faulty in the bedrooms and bathrooms. And the ones in the hallways do not seem to pick up very clearly.”

They all entered Roy’s home, though Ed looked at the final soldier who’d spoken curiously. Roy realized he would have to explain that this was a gift to them that the soldiers didn’t have to give. They didn’t have to inform the two men that they would be bugged, and they certainly didn’t have to give them safe places to talk. But they had.

********

Heymans Breda rubbed his temples, trying to find a loophole he must have missed somewhere.

“Sir,” Falman said at his left. “You have been at this all night. Is it possible that you didn’t miss anything?”

“Anton de Havilland does not do anything without some benefit to himself. I know the man.” Heymans skimmed through document after document. “I can’t figure his reasoning on this. The fuhrer helped him in his career, I know that much. He would be out for blood, trying to make sure that the people who led to his downfall paid dearly.”

“Could the fuhrer have been blackmailing him as well? With the fuhrer gone, is it possible that now it is in his best interest to side with us?” Falman offered. “Maybe he has seen some relief in the death of our former leader.

Heymans shook his head. “That doesn’t seem right… or not entirely right. I mean, to look at the man’s record, it is spotless.”

“Perhaps it was the fuhrer keeping it so spotless. What if he held something, some secret, and used it to keep Captain de Havilland a hostage with it?” Falman suggested.

“Then he’d be just as desperate to keep the administration as it was to ensure he doesn’t get caught.” Heymans stood, shrugging off the military coat and soaked white shirt. “Maybe I’m looking at this wrong.” He paced around the room a few moments, clad in his uniform pants, with their decorative flap and a damp white tanktop.

As he paced, he tried to ignore the look of disgust on Falman’s face. “I sweat,” Heymans said. “Deal with it.”

Falman returned to gathering research and trying to find a way to get access to the fuhrer’s files.

“Hmm…” Heymans said. “Campbell would be a wrench in everything wouldn’t he?” He was asking Falman, and yet not. “He was appointed by parliament, not the fuhrer, and he has been known, thus far, to uphold the law. He has even made recommendations for appeals when he had to punish someone according to the law, but seen it as something that should not be punished."

Heymans looked deep in thought for a moment, and he could feel Falman's eyes on him as he pieced things together.

“He’s the reason for this!” Breda shouted much too loudly for the little room at headquarters. “It isn’t a loophole, or a mistake on my part. Anton knows that Campbell will see him as a villain. Especially if he goes after the boss. That means his chances of getting Judge Campbell to take any of his points seriously is practically nil unless he can convince the man he isn’t a bad guy.”

At this, Falman looked up. “Then with the right influence, you could likely get him to drop the AWOL charges against the major, couldn’t you?”

Heymans nodded. “Regardless of how he wants to manipulate this,” he said, “there is no denying that the boss was held against his will. He’ll argue who did it, why it was done, but the boss was definitely tortured and held captive. AWOL is pointless. I think I can get those charges dropped.”

“Why is it you never went into law, lieutenant?” Falman asked. “You look excited right now at having found a way to help the major. You definitely have a grasp for it as well.”

“Anton,” Heymans answered. “He showed me what a lawyer meant in the old administration, and I didn’t like it.”

********

Al was busy helping his brother get settled into what had once been the brigadier general’s library. Now the room would serve as the brothers’ bedroom.

“So, Winry said she was going to come and visit as soon as she got clearance,” Al said to Ed. He was looking for any reaction from his brother, but all he got was a nod. “You know, I came to a decision. I don’t think I would want to date her, myself.”

“Well, you didn’t inherit a thick skull,” Ed said. “I doubt you’d be able to take a wrench very well now that you’re not in armor.”

“I don’t think Winry would do that anymore, brother,” Al said. “She seems much calmer. And she understands things better, too. You know, she and Shezka actually tapped the phone lines here at Central to try to find out what was going on. She wore a uniform and everything to get in.”

Ed listened as Al, tactfully, tried to update him on everything that had been done or happened during his time as a captive. It wasn’t easy to do without mentioning the fuhrer or Envy, but Al somehow managed it.

“Of course, that’s not including all the gossip,” Al said. “Everyone talks about everyone else’s lovelife, you know. Havoc still isn’t having any luck with women. Even now that he’s not trying to date them to focus on everything that’s been going on, when he tries to flirt with one, he gets smacked in the face. And Fuery, well, I feel bad for him. His boyfriend just broke up with him—”

“What did you say?” Ed asked, sounding far more interested than Al had seen him before.

“I said his boyfriend broke up with him. Last month, he started dating one of the warrant officers, who ended up dumping him while he was injured in the hospital,” Al said.

“Boyfriend? No one cares about that?” Ed asked. “Mom used to say—”

“Well, Mom was raised a while ago and wasn’t very worldly. I don’t mean that as something offensive. She just, well, wasn’t.”

Ed nodded.

“Thankfully, most of the people here in Central are a little more open-minded about it. Love is love, you know?”

Ed nodded again, but looked thoughtful about it. There was just the briefest flash of pain, and it was obvious that this must have been a topic brought up by the two monsters who had hurt the young man so much. The small bit of hurt in Ed’s eyes vanished again. “I’ve never really thought about what I think on it. How I feel about it. There are a lot fo things I never really thought about, or had time to consider.”

“Well, plenty of time now, though Dad and I are still looking at ways to get your arm and leg back. I haven’t given up on that,” Al said.

"Really?" Ed asked, and it was obvious he was trying to make it sound like it was a simple question, but the undercurrent of bitterness showed just how loaded the question really was.

“No, I haven’t given up.”

But the disbelieving look in his brother’s eyes said to Al that Ed thought otherwise.

********

Riza sat, cutting an apple at Roy’s bedside. He’d taken his new pain medication just twenty minutes before and she was trying to get him to eat something other than the single piece of toast now that it was in his system.

“None of this really seems fair,” Riza said. “In a more perfect world, we would be seen as heroes for what we did.” She sighed as she peeled the apple, as she knew her commanding offer preferred, but would never admit to. “In a more perfect world, he would never have been fuhrer. This wouldn’t have been necessary.”

Roy’s eye was somewhat glassy as he looked at the woman in the hard wooden chair. “The world isn’t a perfect place, but it’s there for you, and that’s what counts. That’s what makes it so damned beautiful.” He then touched Riza’s hair.

Riza shoved a chunk of apple in his mouth. “Eat up, sir,” she said. “I think taking that pain medication on an empty stomach might have been a bad idea.”

“I feel fine, Riza,” Roy said. “A little hot though. Do you think it’s hot in here? I think it’s hot in here.”

“Eat. I need to call the doctor,” Riza said. She took the knife with her and left the pieces of apple on Roy’s blanketed lap.

“Whatever you say Riza. I’m still hot, though.” Roy was pulling at the collar of his pajama top.

Riza left the room and went to the downstairs phone, calling one of the few numbers permitted from Roy’s home until the end of the court trial. She realized with her longtime friend’s flirting, that there was something wrong. The two had decided years ago that nothing would work between them, and all flirting was kept on a strictly joking level. Between the glassy look in Roy’s eye and his flirting, there was no denying that something was wrong.

Riza waited for one of the nurses to answer the phone when she heard a voice coming from upstairs. “It’s too hot in here! Riza can you open a window?”

Riza watched in shock as Roy started to come down the steps stripping himself f his robe, then fumbling with his pajama shirt.

“Alphonse!” Riza said. “Roy’s having a reaction to his painkillers, stop him before he strips himself completely.”

She couldn’t even imagine what that might do to poor Ed, but Al was out of the room in a flashe and easily took down Roy. It was odd to think that the nineteen-year-old body of Alphonse was so much stronger than that of her commanding officer. Taller too.

She watched as the long brown hair swung behind his shoulders, wrapping arms carefully around the dark-haired man.

“Brigadier General, sir, you can’t keep taking off your clothes. It isn’t that warm in here,” Al said as he held onto him. “It’s your medicine that is making you think that.

“No, it can’t be. I’m dying here.”

Then, Roy glanced into the library. “Ed are you warm? I think these two are just cold-blooded. I know you’re not. Are you hot?”

“I’m not hot, Mustang. You’re just crazy from the meds,” Ed’s voice said, far stronger than it was when he talked to anyone else. “Go back to bed and Lieutenant Hawkeye will take care of you.”

And, to Riza’s surprise, Roy seemed to listen, a little at least. He continued to strip down to his boxers on his way to the bedroom, but did go back there.

********

A few hours had passed, and Ed was still thinking about how unexpected Roy’s little reaction to his medicine had been. Though, if Ed really had to admit it to himself, it was somewhat amusing to see Roy like that. He had been out of his mind with the medication, but not once had Ed feared him. It was confusing, but the teen did his best not to think about it too much. He didn’t want to know why; he just wanted to enjoy that here was a person who, despite their past arguments and the times Ed felt he’d been used—which upon reflection he’d realized were only the older man’s attempts to do what was right—despite it all, he could trust. All Ed had to hear was how people spoke of Roy, sending out special assignments, even participating in the search for Ed himself, to know that the older man had not once given up that one day, Ed would be found.

Roy had never given up in him. Not even now.

He had more trouble believing that about his own brother, and he knew that some of Mustang’s team felt that Ed might be really gone, but yet, the man himself hadn’t. The way that made him feel, too, caused him some trouble. That warm feeling in the pit of his stomach, something that helped chase away the cold of the rest of his world. That was something in itself.

So when Ed heard the man’s voice from the doorway, and saw him looking a little more haggard than he had at the hospital the last day or so, he was startled.

“I’m sorry, Fullmetal,” he said.

“Don’t be. You couldn’t help it,” Ed said. “I saw Auntie once do the same thing. And if you want to talk about wishing you were blind, try for just a second to imagine being nine and seeing Pinako Rockbell running around her yard in her bra and underwear from a reaction to codeine.”

Roy shuddered and then laughed.

Ed had made him laugh, and he was proud of that fact.

“Such a horrible thing for a young mind to witness. Especially when she was like your grandmother.”

Ed nodded. Roy was closer to the bed now, though the teen couldn’t remember seeing him move.

“Breda thinks he can get our charges dropped,” Roy said. “Riza was just telling me that he’s going tonight to talk to the head of the military’s JAG attorneys.”

“Really? So that means I won’t have to testify in court?” Ed sounded more hopeful than he’d like.

“No, no one is going to force you to testify.”

Ed breathed a sigh of relief before realizing what Roy was saying. He wouldn’t be forced, but the best defense the other man had was Ed, and the young man just couldn’t make the promise that he could manage it. He still had not recounted his entire story to anyone. He didn’t know if he could.

So he put his right hand on Mustang’s arm, trying to convey what he was thinking at the moment.

“Do you think there’s any chance of them knowing about Al and me?” Al’s case was just as much of a concern as his own, if not more.

“No, there’s no way they could know about human transmutation. Thankfully for you, the people involved in this are lawyers, not alchemists.”

********

Anton sat at the lead investigator’s desk, reading over the reports the man had gathered. He had been as thorough as possible, but he knew the man was still missing something from Alphonse Elric’s story, and he had a sneaking suspicion what it was.

As he read, he tapped his first two fingers from each hand together and shifted the plain metal paperweight into a grizzly bear. He did it again, this time into a lizard.

“Wow.”

He looked up to see the investigator looking at him in awe. “Captain?” Anton said.

“Don’t know why you’re a lawyer, when it looks like you could have been an impressive state alchemist,” the man said.

“I felt I was useful elsewhere.” He looked down at the metal dragon. “I will return it back to it’s original shape—”

“No, don’t do that,” the man said, hastily cutting Anton off. “It’s much better than that plain thing I had before.” He walked over and picked the new paperweight up, moving its new hinged joints. “Second lieutenant Breda is out front waiting on you. He said he wants to talk to you about Edward Elric’s case.”

Anton nodded. “Thank you, Captain.” He walked out of the room, leaving the other man to admire his handiwork.