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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."
Um, wow. I normally say "thank you" here, and I AM still thankful, but - I'm REALLY sorry, you guys! I didn't expect it to take me this long. Real life completely kicked my ass, what with the job and planning to move eleven hours away in a couple of months and... well, I have my excuses, but I really am so sorry. *sweatdrop* Forgive me? You still love me, right?
Previous chapters can be found here.
“Are you sure your leg is going to be okay doing this?”
Al’s worried eyes caught his in the silver moonlight and Roy grinned. “My leg is doing great, thanks to you. It’ll be fine.”
Al didn’t look convinced. “You’ve only been walking without a cane for three months, Roy. What if you fall? I’m not sure it’s as strong as it was.”
“I won’t fall,” Roy sniffed, finishing lacing up the skates on his feet. “I’m an expert at ice skating.”
Al stomped both of his skate-shod feet onto the edge of the ice to make the boots fit better and gave Roy a dubious look. “By expert,” he drawled, “Do you mean you’re experienced with it or that you’ve read a lot about it and feel reasonably confident that you know how the physics do or should work and think that you can master it based on that alone?”
Roy shot Al a semi-wounded look and stretched his legs out in front of him, pounding his hands on the half-log they were seated on beside the frozen lake, knocking the snow off his winter gloves. “Have a little more faith in me than that, Alphonse,” he insisted with a charming smile.
“I’ve lived with you too long for that,” Al muttered, pushing himself to his feet. He wobbled, steadied, and managed to glide to a semi-graceful stop a few feet out from the lake’s edge. “Well, come on if you’re coming, Mr. Expert.”
Roy shot him a fierce glare that was a fair imitation of the man’s former alchemic specialty and Al laughed.
“Or can’t you figure out how to stand up?”
This time Roy shot Al a rude gesture and lunged to his feet. He lost his balance almost immediately, toppling forward to catch himself on his hands, his butt sticking up in the air. Despite the humor of the sight, there was no trace of laughter in Al’s voice when he warned, “I mean it, Roy Mustang. If you break that leg acting like an idiot, I’m not fixing it this time.” Al stopped and made face, then observed, “I sound like Winry talking to Ed.”
Managing to straighten into an upright position, dusting bits of snow and ice from his gloves, Roy scowled. “Don’t compare me to that brat,” he complained, though there was no real offense in his voice.
“That ‘brat’ is my brother,” Al reminded as he skated closer to Roy, putting an arm around his waist. “And you draw the comparison well enough yourself, you don’t need my help.”
Roy shot Al a sidelong look that was half resentment and half resignation. He rocked a bit in Al’s arms but soon steadied, gripping Al’s hand that lay on his side. “You know,” Roy mused. “That statement makes this whole thing –” he gestured between their bodies with his free hand – “rather twisted.”
Al screwed up his face but snugged Roy closer to him. “Don’t be strange,” he said in a tone of voice that clearly translated ‘strange’ as ‘gross.’
Roy’s eyes went distant, his gaze inward, and Al held his silence as they moved along slowly, guided more by the momentum of their first movements than any real effort to keep going. It happened from time to time that Al would say or do something to trigger a memory in Roy and the man would drift in the past for a minute or ten. Al was used to it by now.
After a brief silence, Roy sucked in a deep breath as he came back to himself and gave Al an embarrassed look. “Sorry,” he rumbled.
“It’s all right,” Al reassured him, rubbing his hand over Roy’s abdomen. “I understand.”
Roy took hold of both Al’s hands, using the leverage to push himself around until he could see Al better. He slipped on the ice a little but managed to stay upright. “Al,” he mused, tilting his head, “You have to be the only man I know generous enough to share his lover with ghosts.”
Al smiled sadly and tugged on Roy’s hands, pulling the older man close enough to brush a soft kiss over Mustang’s lips. “I’m just glad they share you with me,” he assured Roy, freeing one hand to ruffle through the man’s hair, bulky gloves making the gesture rough and awkward.
Roy tucked in closer to Al’s body, still clinging tightly to one hand but moving the other around Al’s back as he tilted his head and went straight for Al’s mouth. The fogging breath from their noses drifted upward into the winter night like the breath of some ancient dragon.
When they pulled apart, Al’s gloved palm cupped Roy’s face, soft fleece rubbing against the rosy-flushed skin. “I know you don’t love me the way you loved them,” Al said quietly, mouth still close to Roy’s. “But I also know you didn’t love them the same way you love me. It’s okay.”
“They would be glad I have you,” Roy whispered hoarsely, kissing Al again, this time with raw need coloring his affection. Al didn’t bother trying to answer Roy, just opened his mouth and yielded to the kiss, returning it hungrily. His arms tightened around the man almost involuntarily and he moaned quietly as Roy rubbed against him. He could barely feel the pressure through several thick layers of warm clothing but he registered Roy’s movement in his arms and knew what the man was doing. The knowledge was a close enough substitute to the actual sensation for the time being.
One of Roy’s hands snaked lower on Al’s back and down to squeeze the younger man’s buttocks. Al yelped and jumped at the unexpected caress, then gave a short, wordless yell as the motion sent his feet flying out from under him and he landed, hard, on his back, his legs tangling with Roy’s. Al groaned as Roy landed on top of him, knocking out what little air Al had still had in his lungs.
“Ow,” Al complained as Roy rolled off of him onto the ice. “Well… that’s one way to cool off.”
“Not my favorite,” Roy answered, sitting up. He looked over at Al. “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” Al grumbled. “How about you?”
“I’m fine,” Roy assured him. “You broke my fall. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Al laughed, a wry note to his voice.
“It’s probably for the best anyway,” Roy continued as Al got to his feet. “We were getting close to melting the ice there.”
Al turned to give Roy a long-suffering look and groaned, “Please tell me you did not just say that.”
Roy leered. “We could always go home and finish what we started,” he suggested and Al raised an eyebrow primly.
“You brought me out here in the middle of the night to ice skate, and I’m going to ice skate,” Al insisted, not quite able to keep a smile from his face though he gave it a valiant effort. Roy made a face at him and Al turned away so Roy wouldn't see him laugh. It was no good to give the man the satisfaction of winning at this point.
In truth, Al was still nervous about the state of Roy's leg. Despite the years he'd devoted to the project, the array he was trying to design that would extend Roy's lifespan indefinitely was still incomplete, partly due to the fact that he could only work on it in secret. To keep Roy from becoming suspicious, he had developed related arrays that would give him something to show for all his studying. Some were to improve the plants in their garden and in the herb garden at the shop, and some -- like the one he'd used on Roy's leg -- were to help the body restore itself.
Once, watching Al clap to transmute the land at the edge of the stream in their garden to form a deep pool for growing things like rushes and water lilies, Roy had mused, "Somedays, I almost wish I knew how to do that."
Al had frozen momentarily, chills running through him at the memories he carried of the Doors of Truth and the world behind them, the way he'd screamed in agony when his soul had been separated from his body, the long years of trial both he and his brother had endured as payment for their foolishness. He thought of Hughes and Hawkeye and how tempted Roy must have been after both of them to attempt the same transmutation that had rebounded on Ed and Al as boys, how close he probably came to making the same mistake they had. He thought about what Roy might have had to sacrifice to gain the alchemic ability Al had, and shuddered.
Quietly, fingers digging into the mud of the streambank, Al had rasped, "I'm glad you don't."
Now, as he remembered all these things, he heard the sound of blades scraping over ice and was only marginally surprised when Roy glided up next to him, seeming to have finally gotten the hang of the skates. Maybe there was something to understanding the physics of it after all, Al thought with dark amusement.
"You got quiet all of a sudden," Roy observed in a low voice. "Are you really all right?"
"I'm all right," Al nodded, sighing a little. "I was just thinking."
"About?" Al didn't even have to look to know that Roy's right eyebrow was arched up under his bangs in that expression of his that was half dubiousness, half concern.
"Just things." Roy grumbled beside him and Al smiled ruefully. "You know. Questioning the meaning of life, the universe, and everything."
Roy snorted. "You're too young for that kind of deep thinking. You're only, what, thirty-three? At least wait until you're forty-two for that."
Al laughed. "That doesn't make any sense." After a moment, he asked lightly, "How old were you?"
"Oh, I was at least seven."
Al looked over to find Roy grinning at him, cheeks rosy in the winter night, and took both of the older man's hands in his, spinning them around a little. They were alone, and beneath the sounds of their breathing and their skates on the ice, the world seemed wonderfully still and silent. Al held on tight and wondered uncomfortably if he would ever be able to let go.
The look on Ed's face when he hung up the phone prompted Winry to ask, "Who was that?" She was dressed in coveralls with the sleeves tied around her waist and a tank top on. The tube tops had been discarded after Sarah was born.
"Al's bastard," Ed answered flatly, shrugging when Winry gave him a sharp look. Despite her work clothes, she wasn't actually carrying a wrench at the moment. Sarah was several feet away, absorbed in gazing at the pictures in one of her mother's medical books, her own coveralls covered in grease stains, and didn't appear to have heard her father.
"So what did Roy want?" Winry prodded, putting a slight emphasis on Mustang's name.
"To invite us to dinner," Ed said. "Apparently Al wanted to come visit for Sarah's birthday, but he's busy with the shop and can't leave town, so the bas --" a glare from Winry made him pause, clear his throat, and continue, "Mustang wants us to come to Central as a surprise."
"Oh, that's so nice!" Winry beamed. She turned toward her five-year-old daughter, still smiling. "Sarah, do you want to go visit Uncle Al and Uncle Roy in Central for your birthday?"
"Don't call that bastard her uncle!" Ed squawked, ignoring Winry's look.
"Yay!" Sarah answered, seemingly unaware of the ass-kicking her father was about to receive. She looked up from the book, alight with the prospect of a birthday trip. "Uncle Al and Uncle Bastard!"
Both of her parents stopped short, then Ed snorted. Winry looked torn between disapproving and amused but found her outlet easily enough. She reached over and hefted the medical dictionary from the bookshelf and swung it, cutting off Ed's snickers just before they became full-scale laughter. As Winry replaced the book and dusted off her hands, Sarah giggled.
Roy thought Al looked happier than he'd seen in a while, golden eyes glowing, Sarah happily settled on his shoulders, occasionally kicking his chest with her restless feet. Mustang was pleased with himself, pleased with the plan. Sure, it had been Sarah's birthday instead of Al's, but the visit had been more for Alphonse than anyone. The five of them were strolling toward the park after a delightful dinner at one of Sarah's favorite restaurants, and Al and Ed were chatting as they walked, Ed gesturing with animation now and again. Roy could overhear just enough of the conversation to know they were talking alchemy.
Winry hung back from the brothers, falling into step with Roy, and smiled up at him. "Thanks for this," she said. "They both needed it."
Roy smiled at her, glanced up at the Elrics, and then back at Winry. "I think you're right," he said, offering her his arm as they walked. She took it graciously. "Sarah's grown so much since we saw her last," he commented, nodding up at the girl who was snapping her uncle's ponytail like a lead rein. "She's almost ready to go to school, isn't she?"
"Next autumn," Winry confirmed. "We were thinking of maybe moving to Central, to take advantage of the schools here, but Ed isn't sure --"
Her musings were cut off when a hand grabbed Roy by the arm and spun him around, surprising both of them. Out of the corner of his eye, Roy saw the Elric brothers still walking, absorbed in their conversation. Good, he thought. Don't see. Don't come back here, Al. Roy had been on the receiving end of some unfriendly sentiments lately and he didn't want things to get messy with a child nearby.
"You're a blight on the face of the earth," Roy's attacker snarled, eyes hidden by dark glasses and nose and mouth concealed under a thick, woolen scarf. The hood of the person's cloak was pulled up over their head, hiding even their hair. The cloak itself was so shapeless that Roy couldn't be sure as to the gender of the person, though he thought it might be a woman from the posture. "Somebody should do the country a favor and exterminate you like the pest you are, homunculus-lover! Pacifist!"
Well, at least that tells me why this one hates me, Roy thought. There were a few people who still hated him for his part in Ishbal, his former position in the military, and some who hated him for opposing the fuhrer in the Northern War all those years ago. And then there were those who accused him of wanting to give Amestris to Emperor Ling to rule, who thought the reason behind his opposition to re-armament was that the homunculus emperor had bought his favors and loyalty and had promised him power and position in exchange for handing over the country to be annexed to Xing.
"I'm sorry you feel that way," Roy said blandly, ready to turn and leave. This one didn't appear dangerous and there wasn't any other way to deal with them. Reason didn't get through to them, anger only made things worse. The hand tightened on his arm and then the person shoved him, hard, making him stumble back a few paces.
"Sorry I feel that way! Will you be sorry when the country is invaded and we're all taken hostage because you convinced the government that we didn't need weapons? Will you be sorry when we're all killed because you wouldn't let us go to war?"
Roy dusted off his sleeve, straightened his coat, and nodded stiffly. "Good evening," he said in clear dismissal, turning to go. Al would miss him soon and come back, and Roy didn't want that. What he hadn't counted on was his other companion.
"Now wait just a minute!" Roy winced when Winry stepped in front of him, eyes flashing, hands on her hips. "What right do you have to say that?" She was practically shaking and Roy put a hand on her shoulder, intending to pull her back, turn her around, and make her start walking toward her family. She shook him off. "Did your husband lose his arm in the Northern War? Did your parents die in Ishbal? Did one of the best men you ever knew die for the secrets of a war-hungry government?"
"Winry," Roy murmured, glancing over his shoulder nervously. Ed and Al were several paces ahead but they'd noticed their mates weren't with them and had turned around. They were coming toward the confrontation, strides growing longer and quicker with every step, and things were about to get ugly. Winry was winding up for another round but the attacker caught sight of the Elric brothers, storms on their faces, and wisely started backing up. Winry took a step forward to match and the attacker turned and ran.
"Hey! Wait a minute!" Winry yelled, but this time Roy's hand on her shoulder wouldn't be shaken off so easily.
"Stay here, Winry," he said softly. "Al has your daughter."
She blinked, coming back to herself, and frowned. There were tears standing on her lashes and she swiped at them furiously with the back of her gloved hand. The moisture glistened on the fleece of her glove for just a minute and Roy tightened his hand on her shoulder in a gesture of comfort.
"Is everything all right?" Al asked, his voice deep with concern as he and Ed came up to them. Roy was glad that both the brothers had the good sense not to pursue the person.
"Mommy, who was that person? Why were you yelling?" Sarah looked down from atop Al's shoulders, concern in her big blue eyes.
"Just somebody without any manners or brains, honey," Winry sighed, reaching up to tug on Sarah's ankle. The little girl shifted like she wanted to get down and Al bent over, letting Winry take her. "It's okay, he's gone now."
Once Sarah was settled in Winry's arms and Ed was checking on both of them, sharp eyes flickering first to Mustang and then to the path the attacker had taken, Al stepped closer to Roy.
"Did he hurt you?" Al asked in a low voice, fingers brushing over the cuff of Roy's sleeve protectively.
"No," Roy said. "I was more afraid that he would hurt Winry or Sarah. I can take care of myself."
"I don't want you to have to prove that," Al protested, looking troubled.
"Well, are we still going to the park?" Ed asked loudly, his voice cutting through the tense atmosphere. Roy could tell he was making himself sound more carefree than he really felt and guessed it was for his daughter's sake. Roy looked around Al to nod to the young parents. Ed was standing behind Winry, his hand on her back, and Roy had to smile at the picture they presented.
From such turbulent beginnings, he thought with amusement. "Of course," he said aloud. "I promised my niece I'd push her on the swings. We'd better go before it starts snowing again."
Sarah beamed at this reminder of playtime with her uncles, and Roy thought he heard Ed grumble something under his breath about familial relations. "And the merry-round?" Sarah chirped. "Will you push me on the merry-round?"
Roy chuckled, reaching up to tug gently at Sarah's hair. "Your Uncle Al might have to do that for you, little one," he said. "The merry-go-round makes me dizzy."
Sarah pouted, her lower lip jutting out, and Roy would almost swear she batted her eyelashes at him. "But..." she protested, little fingers curling into fists. "But I wanted Uncle Bastard to push me!"
In the dead silence that followed, the sound of the occasional car passing on the road was extraordinarily loud and Roy thought he heard the sound of a bug flying into the flame of the street lamp and sizzling to its death. Ed went instantly red and Winry looked decidedly uncomfortable. Al shifted beside him and then Roy thought he heard a snicker. He fought his own smile but even as he bit his lip to hold it in, he could feel his mouth curving upwards. Al snorted and Roy very nearly giggled. Ed was starting to look irritated along with sheepish and Winry rolled her eyes.
"What?" Sarah asked, looking around at all the adults. "What'd I say?"
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." Um, wow. I normally say "thank you" here, and I AM still thankful, but - I'm REALLY sorry, you guys! I didn't expect it to take me this long. Real life completely kicked my ass, what with the job and planning to move eleven hours away in a couple of months and... well, I have my excuses, but I really am so sorry. *sweatdrop* Forgive me? You still love me, right?
Previous chapters can be found here.
“Are you sure your leg is going to be okay doing this?”
Al’s worried eyes caught his in the silver moonlight and Roy grinned. “My leg is doing great, thanks to you. It’ll be fine.”
Al didn’t look convinced. “You’ve only been walking without a cane for three months, Roy. What if you fall? I’m not sure it’s as strong as it was.”
“I won’t fall,” Roy sniffed, finishing lacing up the skates on his feet. “I’m an expert at ice skating.”
Al stomped both of his skate-shod feet onto the edge of the ice to make the boots fit better and gave Roy a dubious look. “By expert,” he drawled, “Do you mean you’re experienced with it or that you’ve read a lot about it and feel reasonably confident that you know how the physics do or should work and think that you can master it based on that alone?”
Roy shot Al a semi-wounded look and stretched his legs out in front of him, pounding his hands on the half-log they were seated on beside the frozen lake, knocking the snow off his winter gloves. “Have a little more faith in me than that, Alphonse,” he insisted with a charming smile.
“I’ve lived with you too long for that,” Al muttered, pushing himself to his feet. He wobbled, steadied, and managed to glide to a semi-graceful stop a few feet out from the lake’s edge. “Well, come on if you’re coming, Mr. Expert.”
Roy shot him a fierce glare that was a fair imitation of the man’s former alchemic specialty and Al laughed.
“Or can’t you figure out how to stand up?”
This time Roy shot Al a rude gesture and lunged to his feet. He lost his balance almost immediately, toppling forward to catch himself on his hands, his butt sticking up in the air. Despite the humor of the sight, there was no trace of laughter in Al’s voice when he warned, “I mean it, Roy Mustang. If you break that leg acting like an idiot, I’m not fixing it this time.” Al stopped and made face, then observed, “I sound like Winry talking to Ed.”
Managing to straighten into an upright position, dusting bits of snow and ice from his gloves, Roy scowled. “Don’t compare me to that brat,” he complained, though there was no real offense in his voice.
“That ‘brat’ is my brother,” Al reminded as he skated closer to Roy, putting an arm around his waist. “And you draw the comparison well enough yourself, you don’t need my help.”
Roy shot Al a sidelong look that was half resentment and half resignation. He rocked a bit in Al’s arms but soon steadied, gripping Al’s hand that lay on his side. “You know,” Roy mused. “That statement makes this whole thing –” he gestured between their bodies with his free hand – “rather twisted.”
Al screwed up his face but snugged Roy closer to him. “Don’t be strange,” he said in a tone of voice that clearly translated ‘strange’ as ‘gross.’
Roy’s eyes went distant, his gaze inward, and Al held his silence as they moved along slowly, guided more by the momentum of their first movements than any real effort to keep going. It happened from time to time that Al would say or do something to trigger a memory in Roy and the man would drift in the past for a minute or ten. Al was used to it by now.
After a brief silence, Roy sucked in a deep breath as he came back to himself and gave Al an embarrassed look. “Sorry,” he rumbled.
“It’s all right,” Al reassured him, rubbing his hand over Roy’s abdomen. “I understand.”
Roy took hold of both Al’s hands, using the leverage to push himself around until he could see Al better. He slipped on the ice a little but managed to stay upright. “Al,” he mused, tilting his head, “You have to be the only man I know generous enough to share his lover with ghosts.”
Al smiled sadly and tugged on Roy’s hands, pulling the older man close enough to brush a soft kiss over Mustang’s lips. “I’m just glad they share you with me,” he assured Roy, freeing one hand to ruffle through the man’s hair, bulky gloves making the gesture rough and awkward.
Roy tucked in closer to Al’s body, still clinging tightly to one hand but moving the other around Al’s back as he tilted his head and went straight for Al’s mouth. The fogging breath from their noses drifted upward into the winter night like the breath of some ancient dragon.
When they pulled apart, Al’s gloved palm cupped Roy’s face, soft fleece rubbing against the rosy-flushed skin. “I know you don’t love me the way you loved them,” Al said quietly, mouth still close to Roy’s. “But I also know you didn’t love them the same way you love me. It’s okay.”
“They would be glad I have you,” Roy whispered hoarsely, kissing Al again, this time with raw need coloring his affection. Al didn’t bother trying to answer Roy, just opened his mouth and yielded to the kiss, returning it hungrily. His arms tightened around the man almost involuntarily and he moaned quietly as Roy rubbed against him. He could barely feel the pressure through several thick layers of warm clothing but he registered Roy’s movement in his arms and knew what the man was doing. The knowledge was a close enough substitute to the actual sensation for the time being.
One of Roy’s hands snaked lower on Al’s back and down to squeeze the younger man’s buttocks. Al yelped and jumped at the unexpected caress, then gave a short, wordless yell as the motion sent his feet flying out from under him and he landed, hard, on his back, his legs tangling with Roy’s. Al groaned as Roy landed on top of him, knocking out what little air Al had still had in his lungs.
“Ow,” Al complained as Roy rolled off of him onto the ice. “Well… that’s one way to cool off.”
“Not my favorite,” Roy answered, sitting up. He looked over at Al. “Are you all right?”
“Fine,” Al grumbled. “How about you?”
“I’m fine,” Roy assured him. “You broke my fall. Thanks.”
“You’re welcome,” Al laughed, a wry note to his voice.
“It’s probably for the best anyway,” Roy continued as Al got to his feet. “We were getting close to melting the ice there.”
Al turned to give Roy a long-suffering look and groaned, “Please tell me you did not just say that.”
Roy leered. “We could always go home and finish what we started,” he suggested and Al raised an eyebrow primly.
“You brought me out here in the middle of the night to ice skate, and I’m going to ice skate,” Al insisted, not quite able to keep a smile from his face though he gave it a valiant effort. Roy made a face at him and Al turned away so Roy wouldn't see him laugh. It was no good to give the man the satisfaction of winning at this point.
In truth, Al was still nervous about the state of Roy's leg. Despite the years he'd devoted to the project, the array he was trying to design that would extend Roy's lifespan indefinitely was still incomplete, partly due to the fact that he could only work on it in secret. To keep Roy from becoming suspicious, he had developed related arrays that would give him something to show for all his studying. Some were to improve the plants in their garden and in the herb garden at the shop, and some -- like the one he'd used on Roy's leg -- were to help the body restore itself.
Once, watching Al clap to transmute the land at the edge of the stream in their garden to form a deep pool for growing things like rushes and water lilies, Roy had mused, "Somedays, I almost wish I knew how to do that."
Al had frozen momentarily, chills running through him at the memories he carried of the Doors of Truth and the world behind them, the way he'd screamed in agony when his soul had been separated from his body, the long years of trial both he and his brother had endured as payment for their foolishness. He thought of Hughes and Hawkeye and how tempted Roy must have been after both of them to attempt the same transmutation that had rebounded on Ed and Al as boys, how close he probably came to making the same mistake they had. He thought about what Roy might have had to sacrifice to gain the alchemic ability Al had, and shuddered.
Quietly, fingers digging into the mud of the streambank, Al had rasped, "I'm glad you don't."
Now, as he remembered all these things, he heard the sound of blades scraping over ice and was only marginally surprised when Roy glided up next to him, seeming to have finally gotten the hang of the skates. Maybe there was something to understanding the physics of it after all, Al thought with dark amusement.
"You got quiet all of a sudden," Roy observed in a low voice. "Are you really all right?"
"I'm all right," Al nodded, sighing a little. "I was just thinking."
"About?" Al didn't even have to look to know that Roy's right eyebrow was arched up under his bangs in that expression of his that was half dubiousness, half concern.
"Just things." Roy grumbled beside him and Al smiled ruefully. "You know. Questioning the meaning of life, the universe, and everything."
Roy snorted. "You're too young for that kind of deep thinking. You're only, what, thirty-three? At least wait until you're forty-two for that."
Al laughed. "That doesn't make any sense." After a moment, he asked lightly, "How old were you?"
"Oh, I was at least seven."
Al looked over to find Roy grinning at him, cheeks rosy in the winter night, and took both of the older man's hands in his, spinning them around a little. They were alone, and beneath the sounds of their breathing and their skates on the ice, the world seemed wonderfully still and silent. Al held on tight and wondered uncomfortably if he would ever be able to let go.
The look on Ed's face when he hung up the phone prompted Winry to ask, "Who was that?" She was dressed in coveralls with the sleeves tied around her waist and a tank top on. The tube tops had been discarded after Sarah was born.
"Al's bastard," Ed answered flatly, shrugging when Winry gave him a sharp look. Despite her work clothes, she wasn't actually carrying a wrench at the moment. Sarah was several feet away, absorbed in gazing at the pictures in one of her mother's medical books, her own coveralls covered in grease stains, and didn't appear to have heard her father.
"So what did Roy want?" Winry prodded, putting a slight emphasis on Mustang's name.
"To invite us to dinner," Ed said. "Apparently Al wanted to come visit for Sarah's birthday, but he's busy with the shop and can't leave town, so the bas --" a glare from Winry made him pause, clear his throat, and continue, "Mustang wants us to come to Central as a surprise."
"Oh, that's so nice!" Winry beamed. She turned toward her five-year-old daughter, still smiling. "Sarah, do you want to go visit Uncle Al and Uncle Roy in Central for your birthday?"
"Don't call that bastard her uncle!" Ed squawked, ignoring Winry's look.
"Yay!" Sarah answered, seemingly unaware of the ass-kicking her father was about to receive. She looked up from the book, alight with the prospect of a birthday trip. "Uncle Al and Uncle Bastard!"
Both of her parents stopped short, then Ed snorted. Winry looked torn between disapproving and amused but found her outlet easily enough. She reached over and hefted the medical dictionary from the bookshelf and swung it, cutting off Ed's snickers just before they became full-scale laughter. As Winry replaced the book and dusted off her hands, Sarah giggled.
Roy thought Al looked happier than he'd seen in a while, golden eyes glowing, Sarah happily settled on his shoulders, occasionally kicking his chest with her restless feet. Mustang was pleased with himself, pleased with the plan. Sure, it had been Sarah's birthday instead of Al's, but the visit had been more for Alphonse than anyone. The five of them were strolling toward the park after a delightful dinner at one of Sarah's favorite restaurants, and Al and Ed were chatting as they walked, Ed gesturing with animation now and again. Roy could overhear just enough of the conversation to know they were talking alchemy.
Winry hung back from the brothers, falling into step with Roy, and smiled up at him. "Thanks for this," she said. "They both needed it."
Roy smiled at her, glanced up at the Elrics, and then back at Winry. "I think you're right," he said, offering her his arm as they walked. She took it graciously. "Sarah's grown so much since we saw her last," he commented, nodding up at the girl who was snapping her uncle's ponytail like a lead rein. "She's almost ready to go to school, isn't she?"
"Next autumn," Winry confirmed. "We were thinking of maybe moving to Central, to take advantage of the schools here, but Ed isn't sure --"
Her musings were cut off when a hand grabbed Roy by the arm and spun him around, surprising both of them. Out of the corner of his eye, Roy saw the Elric brothers still walking, absorbed in their conversation. Good, he thought. Don't see. Don't come back here, Al. Roy had been on the receiving end of some unfriendly sentiments lately and he didn't want things to get messy with a child nearby.
"You're a blight on the face of the earth," Roy's attacker snarled, eyes hidden by dark glasses and nose and mouth concealed under a thick, woolen scarf. The hood of the person's cloak was pulled up over their head, hiding even their hair. The cloak itself was so shapeless that Roy couldn't be sure as to the gender of the person, though he thought it might be a woman from the posture. "Somebody should do the country a favor and exterminate you like the pest you are, homunculus-lover! Pacifist!"
Well, at least that tells me why this one hates me, Roy thought. There were a few people who still hated him for his part in Ishbal, his former position in the military, and some who hated him for opposing the fuhrer in the Northern War all those years ago. And then there were those who accused him of wanting to give Amestris to Emperor Ling to rule, who thought the reason behind his opposition to re-armament was that the homunculus emperor had bought his favors and loyalty and had promised him power and position in exchange for handing over the country to be annexed to Xing.
"I'm sorry you feel that way," Roy said blandly, ready to turn and leave. This one didn't appear dangerous and there wasn't any other way to deal with them. Reason didn't get through to them, anger only made things worse. The hand tightened on his arm and then the person shoved him, hard, making him stumble back a few paces.
"Sorry I feel that way! Will you be sorry when the country is invaded and we're all taken hostage because you convinced the government that we didn't need weapons? Will you be sorry when we're all killed because you wouldn't let us go to war?"
Roy dusted off his sleeve, straightened his coat, and nodded stiffly. "Good evening," he said in clear dismissal, turning to go. Al would miss him soon and come back, and Roy didn't want that. What he hadn't counted on was his other companion.
"Now wait just a minute!" Roy winced when Winry stepped in front of him, eyes flashing, hands on her hips. "What right do you have to say that?" She was practically shaking and Roy put a hand on her shoulder, intending to pull her back, turn her around, and make her start walking toward her family. She shook him off. "Did your husband lose his arm in the Northern War? Did your parents die in Ishbal? Did one of the best men you ever knew die for the secrets of a war-hungry government?"
"Winry," Roy murmured, glancing over his shoulder nervously. Ed and Al were several paces ahead but they'd noticed their mates weren't with them and had turned around. They were coming toward the confrontation, strides growing longer and quicker with every step, and things were about to get ugly. Winry was winding up for another round but the attacker caught sight of the Elric brothers, storms on their faces, and wisely started backing up. Winry took a step forward to match and the attacker turned and ran.
"Hey! Wait a minute!" Winry yelled, but this time Roy's hand on her shoulder wouldn't be shaken off so easily.
"Stay here, Winry," he said softly. "Al has your daughter."
She blinked, coming back to herself, and frowned. There were tears standing on her lashes and she swiped at them furiously with the back of her gloved hand. The moisture glistened on the fleece of her glove for just a minute and Roy tightened his hand on her shoulder in a gesture of comfort.
"Is everything all right?" Al asked, his voice deep with concern as he and Ed came up to them. Roy was glad that both the brothers had the good sense not to pursue the person.
"Mommy, who was that person? Why were you yelling?" Sarah looked down from atop Al's shoulders, concern in her big blue eyes.
"Just somebody without any manners or brains, honey," Winry sighed, reaching up to tug on Sarah's ankle. The little girl shifted like she wanted to get down and Al bent over, letting Winry take her. "It's okay, he's gone now."
Once Sarah was settled in Winry's arms and Ed was checking on both of them, sharp eyes flickering first to Mustang and then to the path the attacker had taken, Al stepped closer to Roy.
"Did he hurt you?" Al asked in a low voice, fingers brushing over the cuff of Roy's sleeve protectively.
"No," Roy said. "I was more afraid that he would hurt Winry or Sarah. I can take care of myself."
"I don't want you to have to prove that," Al protested, looking troubled.
"Well, are we still going to the park?" Ed asked loudly, his voice cutting through the tense atmosphere. Roy could tell he was making himself sound more carefree than he really felt and guessed it was for his daughter's sake. Roy looked around Al to nod to the young parents. Ed was standing behind Winry, his hand on her back, and Roy had to smile at the picture they presented.
From such turbulent beginnings, he thought with amusement. "Of course," he said aloud. "I promised my niece I'd push her on the swings. We'd better go before it starts snowing again."
Sarah beamed at this reminder of playtime with her uncles, and Roy thought he heard Ed grumble something under his breath about familial relations. "And the merry-round?" Sarah chirped. "Will you push me on the merry-round?"
Roy chuckled, reaching up to tug gently at Sarah's hair. "Your Uncle Al might have to do that for you, little one," he said. "The merry-go-round makes me dizzy."
Sarah pouted, her lower lip jutting out, and Roy would almost swear she batted her eyelashes at him. "But..." she protested, little fingers curling into fists. "But I wanted Uncle Bastard to push me!"
In the dead silence that followed, the sound of the occasional car passing on the road was extraordinarily loud and Roy thought he heard the sound of a bug flying into the flame of the street lamp and sizzling to its death. Ed went instantly red and Winry looked decidedly uncomfortable. Al shifted beside him and then Roy thought he heard a snicker. He fought his own smile but even as he bit his lip to hold it in, he could feel his mouth curving upwards. Al snorted and Roy very nearly giggled. Ed was starting to look irritated along with sheepish and Winry rolled her eyes.
"What?" Sarah asked, looking around at all the adults. "What'd I say?"
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Date: 2008-01-29 01:37 am (UTC)Hee. Sarah and Tara (a mix between 'Trisha' and 'Sara') tends to be my default name for Ed/Winry offspring. But since I had a cat named Tana in this story, I went with Sarah. *g*