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whiskeycoffeeTitle: Some Other Beginning
Author: m.jules
Rating: Hard R for the whole thing
Summary: "Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end." Alphonse Elric helps Roy Mustang face life after more tragedy than one man should endure and finds something for himself in the process.
Pairing: mainly Roy/Al, with hints of and references to others. (Including, but not limited to, Ed/Winry, Al/Paninya, Gracia/Maes/Roy/Riza, and Al/Elicia.)
Disclaimer: Arakawa would KILL me. I bow low in supplication.
Author's Notes: This was meant to be "The Story That Proves In-Character Roy/Al Is Possible." Don't know if it worked. For my![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
7stages claim, prompt "New every morning."
Thank you, thank you, thank you to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
cornerofmadness and evil_little_dog who have beta'd every chapter without complaint even though this isn't their pairing. To dr_firedog for enduring me chattering about it, and to all my fellow Roy/Al 'shippers whose excitement about the possibility of this story kept me writing on it.
This is manga-verse, with every chapter yet released and scanlated as fair game for spoilers and many liberties taken as far as speculation about the future. If you want to know how Al got his body back, Yet Gentle and The Frost of Awakening can be considered my default answer to that question for now at least.
I am posting one chapter every Monday. Previous chapters can be found here.
Al walked into the house still lost in thought, barely remembering to hang his coat on the coat hook inside the front door. He paused in the kitchen to set down the apple pie Gracia had sent home with him and then wandered out onto the back patio where Roy sat having coffee with Havoc.
Though Havoc had regained most of the use of his legs, he still had difficulty walking or standing for extended stretches, and Al realized with a start that the former sniper probably had more understanding of Roy right now than anyone. Roy's two canes -- he refused to use a wheel chair except in times of utter necessity -- rested against his chair, reminding Al sharply that the man's injury was still unhealed. The doctor had told them that, aside from a medical miracle, Roy would always need some kind of support.
Roy looked up and gave him what wasn't quite a smile but passed as a friendly acknowledgment, and Havoc turned in his chair to see who had joined them.
"Hey, little boss," he said, grinning, his fingers twitching restlessly on the table, a toothpick lolling in his mouth. The Xing alchemist who was giving Havoc experimental treatment to try to completely heal his legs had absolutely forbidden cigarettes, saying they worked against all the healing the alchemy was doing. It was rough going, but Havoc was trying valiantly. Of course, he had a new source of support that likely helped with that.
"Hello, Jean," Al smiled as he sank into the third chair at the table, closer to Havoc so he could keep more of an eye on Roy. He tried not to blush as he looked at the man he was taking care of, Gracia's revelations and warnings still ringing fresh in his head. "How's Maria?"
The color that spread across Havoc's cheekbones was telling, but the smile that tugged at his lips was even more so and Al chuckled. Even Roy quirked a half-smile.
"She's doin' good," Havoc muttered, his index finger tapping a quick staccato of nervous energy. After the revolution, Ross and Havoc had come back from Xing to testify at Roy's trial in Mustang's defense alongside Ed and Al. Al still remembered seeing the tears that stood in Maria's eyes as she gave a testimony of the strength of Roy's character and the depth of his honor, knowing that if Roy was condemned her testimony would damn her to a similar fate. Fortunately for everyone, Roy was acquitted under heavy pressure from a few prominent names, not the least of which was Edward Elric, alchemist of the people, and his caring-to-a-fault little brother.
That had been almost three years ago, though, and the suspicions Al had begun to form at Mustang's trial, seeing the way Havoc and Ross supported one another, had been confirmed a few times over.
"Have you set a date yet?" Roy asked, surprising Al with the lightness of his tone. Alphonse watched the man carefully, wondering if he was only imagining the bittersweet tint to his expression. He suspected Roy had been planning to marry Riza before... well, before.
Havoc faltered a little, then grinned and shook his head. "Not exactly. We've been talking about it, though. Got it narrowed down to maybe sometime next year in the fall, when it's pretty."
Al wondered at this for a moment, knowing that the pair had been talking about this subject for quite some time -- in plenty of time to have been married this fall, as a matter of fact -- before he remembered that just about the time they'd been reaching an agreement, Riza had been hospitalized. He cringed inwardly. Tragedy never did have any sense of timing.
Roy's sharp mind had apparently traveled similar paths, as he was suddenly grim, his face looking older than it should. "I think I should be getting inside," he said, his voice a bit distant, and distress shone clearly in Havoc's blue eyes.
Al caught the sniper's gaze and shook his head softly, both to assure the man it wasn't his fault and to signal him not to say anything further on the matter.
"It's about time I was getting home, too," Havoc agreed, pushing himself to his feet and steadying himself briefly on the table. Roy did the same, but despite both his canes, he was still unsteady. Al was at his side in an instant, arm resting lightly around his waist, holding him up. Havoc walked slowly, his own cane tapping gently against the stones of the patio, and Roy snorted.
"I didn't think we'd be doing this until we were eighty, Havoc," he joked as he leaned against Al for support. "We walk like men over twice our age."
Havoc chuckled, rolling his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. "I heard somewhere, chief, that it's not the age -- it's the mileage."
Roy grinned a little, pausing as he and Al had to change positions briefly to get both of them through the door and into the house. "Well we both have plenty of miles on us, that's for sure."
Al helped Roy a chair at the kitchen table. "I'll see you out, Jean," he said to the other man, but the sniper shook his head.
"I'll be fine, but thanks," he grinned. "You take care of the chief."
Al felt his cheeks pinking and began fervently wishing Gracia hadn't said things that made him hear that in a different light. He pushed the thought aside and just nodded. "You don't have to worry about that," he assured Havoc, confident that he could at least say that with all conviction. Roy needed him; he'd be there.
"Goodbye, Havoc. Thank you." Roy's words were oddly formal and Al shot him a confused look. The man was sitting stiffly at the table, his injured leg stretched out in front of him, and Al thought he could see the strain on Roy's face. Havoc apparently noticed too, but he only nodded and lifted his hand in a wave as he let himself out, seeing that Roy had reached the end of his energy for entertaining.
When the door had closed behind Havoc, Roy let out a sigh and Al could tell he relaxed, just a little. He knew Mustang hated appearing weak in front of those he had once sworn to protect and thought that might be another reason Gracia was hesitant to come see him while his recovery was still an uphill battle. It had taken him long enough to relax in front of Al but, considering their arrangement, it had been inevitable.
"Hurts?" Al asked quietly, going to the cabinet to look for Roy's painkillers.
Roy nodded, grimacing. "Just stiff, mostly. Aches, a little."
Al knew that probably meant the pain was almost unbearable and frowned as he shook out the dosage of pills into his palm. He set them along with a glass of water in front of Roy, then retrieved the card and photos Gracia had sent home with him. Roy took the medicine and then looked at the handmade paper card in momentary confusion.
"Elicia made that," Al said with a smile. "Gracia sent some of the most recent pictures of her, too."
Roy nodded before picking up the card. "Had you looking through the photo albums, did she?" Al faltered but Roy didn't seem to notice, so he just answered in the affirmative. Al noticed that Roy's hands trembled slightly as he opened the card. Al averted his eyes, giving the man some semblance of privacy. He busied himself with cutting the apple pie into slices and pulled out a couple of plates and forks. He didn't know if Roy would want a piece, but he certainly did.
As Al was sliding a slice of pie onto one of the plates, he heard Roy chuckle softly behind him and glanced over his shoulder. Mustang was looking at one of the photographs, fondness evident in his expression. "She looks so much like Gracia, you almost can't see Maes in her at all," he murmured, then flipped the picture around to show Al what he meant.
It was the photo Al had noticed framed on the mantlepiece, the one with the butterfly, and he smiled as he nodded. "She does favor Gracia, doesn't she?"
Al came to the table and set one piece of pie down in front of Roy, taking the other for himself. Wordlessly, Roy pushed the card to Al's side of the table so the younger man could see what Elicia had drawn. On the front of the crookedly-folded card was a sad face above a big red heart, and then below that, a smiling face. He opened the card and read in Elicia's large, awkward child-lettering, "Feel better Uncle Roy. XO, Elicia."
He couldn't help the smile that crossed his mouth and he set the card back down. "That's very sweet," he murmured, and Roy nodded as he took a bite of his pie. Al shoveled a good half of his piece into his mouth on the first bite, and Roy shot him an amused glance. If Al noticed, he didn't react, just savored the dessert in his mouth. He wouldn't go so far as to say that Gracia's apple pie was the best part about being human again, but it was damn close.
Roy managed to take three bites before his fork clattered to his plate and he pushed himself abruptly to his feet, arms shaking as he supported himself on his canes.
"Roy?" Al asked, already half-standing, concern evident in his face and voice.
"It's all right, Alphonse," Roy answered, though his tone was strained. "I just want to lie down on the couch. I'll be all right."
That was Al's cue not to help the man unless it became necessary, and Al settled back into his chair uneasily. He watched as Roy made his way slowly to the living room and lowered himself to the sofa, the angle of the doorway hiding all but the top of his dark head from Al's view.
Al turned back to his pie, the treat suddenly tasteless in his mouth. He thought he could put together the pieces to decipher what had disturbed Roy so badly -- the pictures of Elicia and the card combined with what was probably a very familiar taste to him... it had probably dredged up a lot of memories that were just too painful for him right now. Gracia had been right not to visit, Al realized. She knew Roy better than perhaps Al had given her credit for at first. The pie was hard to swallow and Al got to his feet shakily, taking the dishes to the kitchen counter. He'd take care of cleaning them later; Roy couldn't stand long enough to do things like cooking and washing dishes yet.
He headed toward his room, right across the hall from Mustang's, pausing in the doorway of the living room to tell Roy, "I'll be reading in my room if you need me."
Roy barely nodded, making an acknowledging sound, and Al climbed the stairs, his mind in a whirl. He couldn't help wondering if Gracia, with her obvious knowledge of Roy, would be proven right in her other predictions as well. He didn't know how he felt about that.
Author: m.jules
Rating: Hard R for the whole thing
Summary: "Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end." Alphonse Elric helps Roy Mustang face life after more tragedy than one man should endure and finds something for himself in the process.
Pairing: mainly Roy/Al, with hints of and references to others. (Including, but not limited to, Ed/Winry, Al/Paninya, Gracia/Maes/Roy/Riza, and Al/Elicia.)
Disclaimer: Arakawa would KILL me. I bow low in supplication.
Author's Notes: This was meant to be "The Story That Proves In-Character Roy/Al Is Possible." Don't know if it worked. For my
7stages claim, prompt "New every morning." Thank you, thank you, thank you to
cornerofmadness and evil_little_dog who have beta'd every chapter without complaint even though this isn't their pairing. To dr_firedog for enduring me chattering about it, and to all my fellow Roy/Al 'shippers whose excitement about the possibility of this story kept me writing on it.This is manga-verse, with every chapter yet released and scanlated as fair game for spoilers and many liberties taken as far as speculation about the future. If you want to know how Al got his body back, Yet Gentle and The Frost of Awakening can be considered my default answer to that question for now at least.
I am posting one chapter every Monday. Previous chapters can be found here.
Al walked into the house still lost in thought, barely remembering to hang his coat on the coat hook inside the front door. He paused in the kitchen to set down the apple pie Gracia had sent home with him and then wandered out onto the back patio where Roy sat having coffee with Havoc.
Though Havoc had regained most of the use of his legs, he still had difficulty walking or standing for extended stretches, and Al realized with a start that the former sniper probably had more understanding of Roy right now than anyone. Roy's two canes -- he refused to use a wheel chair except in times of utter necessity -- rested against his chair, reminding Al sharply that the man's injury was still unhealed. The doctor had told them that, aside from a medical miracle, Roy would always need some kind of support.
Roy looked up and gave him what wasn't quite a smile but passed as a friendly acknowledgment, and Havoc turned in his chair to see who had joined them.
"Hey, little boss," he said, grinning, his fingers twitching restlessly on the table, a toothpick lolling in his mouth. The Xing alchemist who was giving Havoc experimental treatment to try to completely heal his legs had absolutely forbidden cigarettes, saying they worked against all the healing the alchemy was doing. It was rough going, but Havoc was trying valiantly. Of course, he had a new source of support that likely helped with that.
"Hello, Jean," Al smiled as he sank into the third chair at the table, closer to Havoc so he could keep more of an eye on Roy. He tried not to blush as he looked at the man he was taking care of, Gracia's revelations and warnings still ringing fresh in his head. "How's Maria?"
The color that spread across Havoc's cheekbones was telling, but the smile that tugged at his lips was even more so and Al chuckled. Even Roy quirked a half-smile.
"She's doin' good," Havoc muttered, his index finger tapping a quick staccato of nervous energy. After the revolution, Ross and Havoc had come back from Xing to testify at Roy's trial in Mustang's defense alongside Ed and Al. Al still remembered seeing the tears that stood in Maria's eyes as she gave a testimony of the strength of Roy's character and the depth of his honor, knowing that if Roy was condemned her testimony would damn her to a similar fate. Fortunately for everyone, Roy was acquitted under heavy pressure from a few prominent names, not the least of which was Edward Elric, alchemist of the people, and his caring-to-a-fault little brother.
That had been almost three years ago, though, and the suspicions Al had begun to form at Mustang's trial, seeing the way Havoc and Ross supported one another, had been confirmed a few times over.
"Have you set a date yet?" Roy asked, surprising Al with the lightness of his tone. Alphonse watched the man carefully, wondering if he was only imagining the bittersweet tint to his expression. He suspected Roy had been planning to marry Riza before... well, before.
Havoc faltered a little, then grinned and shook his head. "Not exactly. We've been talking about it, though. Got it narrowed down to maybe sometime next year in the fall, when it's pretty."
Al wondered at this for a moment, knowing that the pair had been talking about this subject for quite some time -- in plenty of time to have been married this fall, as a matter of fact -- before he remembered that just about the time they'd been reaching an agreement, Riza had been hospitalized. He cringed inwardly. Tragedy never did have any sense of timing.
Roy's sharp mind had apparently traveled similar paths, as he was suddenly grim, his face looking older than it should. "I think I should be getting inside," he said, his voice a bit distant, and distress shone clearly in Havoc's blue eyes.
Al caught the sniper's gaze and shook his head softly, both to assure the man it wasn't his fault and to signal him not to say anything further on the matter.
"It's about time I was getting home, too," Havoc agreed, pushing himself to his feet and steadying himself briefly on the table. Roy did the same, but despite both his canes, he was still unsteady. Al was at his side in an instant, arm resting lightly around his waist, holding him up. Havoc walked slowly, his own cane tapping gently against the stones of the patio, and Roy snorted.
"I didn't think we'd be doing this until we were eighty, Havoc," he joked as he leaned against Al for support. "We walk like men over twice our age."
Havoc chuckled, rolling his toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. "I heard somewhere, chief, that it's not the age -- it's the mileage."
Roy grinned a little, pausing as he and Al had to change positions briefly to get both of them through the door and into the house. "Well we both have plenty of miles on us, that's for sure."
Al helped Roy a chair at the kitchen table. "I'll see you out, Jean," he said to the other man, but the sniper shook his head.
"I'll be fine, but thanks," he grinned. "You take care of the chief."
Al felt his cheeks pinking and began fervently wishing Gracia hadn't said things that made him hear that in a different light. He pushed the thought aside and just nodded. "You don't have to worry about that," he assured Havoc, confident that he could at least say that with all conviction. Roy needed him; he'd be there.
"Goodbye, Havoc. Thank you." Roy's words were oddly formal and Al shot him a confused look. The man was sitting stiffly at the table, his injured leg stretched out in front of him, and Al thought he could see the strain on Roy's face. Havoc apparently noticed too, but he only nodded and lifted his hand in a wave as he let himself out, seeing that Roy had reached the end of his energy for entertaining.
When the door had closed behind Havoc, Roy let out a sigh and Al could tell he relaxed, just a little. He knew Mustang hated appearing weak in front of those he had once sworn to protect and thought that might be another reason Gracia was hesitant to come see him while his recovery was still an uphill battle. It had taken him long enough to relax in front of Al but, considering their arrangement, it had been inevitable.
"Hurts?" Al asked quietly, going to the cabinet to look for Roy's painkillers.
Roy nodded, grimacing. "Just stiff, mostly. Aches, a little."
Al knew that probably meant the pain was almost unbearable and frowned as he shook out the dosage of pills into his palm. He set them along with a glass of water in front of Roy, then retrieved the card and photos Gracia had sent home with him. Roy took the medicine and then looked at the handmade paper card in momentary confusion.
"Elicia made that," Al said with a smile. "Gracia sent some of the most recent pictures of her, too."
Roy nodded before picking up the card. "Had you looking through the photo albums, did she?" Al faltered but Roy didn't seem to notice, so he just answered in the affirmative. Al noticed that Roy's hands trembled slightly as he opened the card. Al averted his eyes, giving the man some semblance of privacy. He busied himself with cutting the apple pie into slices and pulled out a couple of plates and forks. He didn't know if Roy would want a piece, but he certainly did.
As Al was sliding a slice of pie onto one of the plates, he heard Roy chuckle softly behind him and glanced over his shoulder. Mustang was looking at one of the photographs, fondness evident in his expression. "She looks so much like Gracia, you almost can't see Maes in her at all," he murmured, then flipped the picture around to show Al what he meant.
It was the photo Al had noticed framed on the mantlepiece, the one with the butterfly, and he smiled as he nodded. "She does favor Gracia, doesn't she?"
Al came to the table and set one piece of pie down in front of Roy, taking the other for himself. Wordlessly, Roy pushed the card to Al's side of the table so the younger man could see what Elicia had drawn. On the front of the crookedly-folded card was a sad face above a big red heart, and then below that, a smiling face. He opened the card and read in Elicia's large, awkward child-lettering, "Feel better Uncle Roy. XO, Elicia."
He couldn't help the smile that crossed his mouth and he set the card back down. "That's very sweet," he murmured, and Roy nodded as he took a bite of his pie. Al shoveled a good half of his piece into his mouth on the first bite, and Roy shot him an amused glance. If Al noticed, he didn't react, just savored the dessert in his mouth. He wouldn't go so far as to say that Gracia's apple pie was the best part about being human again, but it was damn close.
Roy managed to take three bites before his fork clattered to his plate and he pushed himself abruptly to his feet, arms shaking as he supported himself on his canes.
"Roy?" Al asked, already half-standing, concern evident in his face and voice.
"It's all right, Alphonse," Roy answered, though his tone was strained. "I just want to lie down on the couch. I'll be all right."
That was Al's cue not to help the man unless it became necessary, and Al settled back into his chair uneasily. He watched as Roy made his way slowly to the living room and lowered himself to the sofa, the angle of the doorway hiding all but the top of his dark head from Al's view.
Al turned back to his pie, the treat suddenly tasteless in his mouth. He thought he could put together the pieces to decipher what had disturbed Roy so badly -- the pictures of Elicia and the card combined with what was probably a very familiar taste to him... it had probably dredged up a lot of memories that were just too painful for him right now. Gracia had been right not to visit, Al realized. She knew Roy better than perhaps Al had given her credit for at first. The pie was hard to swallow and Al got to his feet shakily, taking the dishes to the kitchen counter. He'd take care of cleaning them later; Roy couldn't stand long enough to do things like cooking and washing dishes yet.
He headed toward his room, right across the hall from Mustang's, pausing in the doorway of the living room to tell Roy, "I'll be reading in my room if you need me."
Roy barely nodded, making an acknowledging sound, and Al climbed the stairs, his mind in a whirl. He couldn't help wondering if Gracia, with her obvious knowledge of Roy, would be proven right in her other predictions as well. He didn't know how he felt about that.
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