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#[ a walking contradiction // van hohenheim ]
phntasmgoria-moved · 7 months
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7/7
FINALLY
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worryinglyinnocent · 3 years
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Fic: Forged Through Fire (1/13)
Summary: Amestris. Once democratic, now a military dictatorship. Prohibition is strict; personal freedoms curtailed. All alchemists must be state-licensed or face imprisonment. Foreigners are met with suspicion. It’s a grim place and a grim time, but there are some people able to bring a little light to the world. Behind an innocent-looking bookshop, speakeasy proprietor Chris Mustang has formed an unlikely alliance with unlicensed alchemist Van Hohenheim to provide alcohol to those who want it and medical care to those who need it. When Riza’s newly complete tattoo becomes infected, Roy brings her into this underworld, little knowing the way it will change their lives in the future – uncovering the secrets of the mythical Philosopher’s Stone and the schemes of a Fuhrer hell-bent on achieving immortality, all whilst navigating what they mean to each other.
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Rated: T
[AO3]
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Content warning for this chapter: Domestic abuse – parent on child; parental neglect; mentions of abortion.
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Forged Through Fire
One
From the moment Riza woke up, she knew that it was going to be a bad day. Her back felt like it was on fire, and she wondered if this was how the mannequins that Roy used for target practice felt like once he’d finished with them.
If she was being completely honest with herself then she wasn’t even surprised that this had happened. She’d been expecting it at some point; she was lucky to have made it this far into the process before it had happened.
Or, of course, she was extremely unlucky.
She got out of bed, looking down at the damp patch of sweat staining the sheets. Laundry could wait until she’d assessed the damage. Her nightgown was sticking to her, and she winced as she inched it up over her head, craning over her shoulder to try and see what was going on in the mirror.
As expected, the tattoo was horrifically infected. Considering her father’s penchant for getting the array down on her skin without much thought for anything else, including the cleanliness of his needles, it was only a matter of time before it happened. She reached round and touched the worst-inflamed parts of her skin, the final pieces of the array that he’d added a couple of days ago. The pain brought tears to her eyes and she clamped her jaws tight shut to avoid crying out.
Maybe she could just let the infection run its course and it would be fine. Riza shook her head. She didn’t really have much choice in the matter. It wasn’t like she could go to a doctor. The minute anyone saw the tattoo she’d be thrown in front of a firing squad.
Sometimes she wondered if her father even realised what he’d been condemning her to when he’d started to etch his life’s work onto her so indelibly. She’d known. She’d always known. She’d just never been in a position to contradict him.
Somehow, Riza didn’t think that it had ever crossed his mind. The most important thing in Berthold Hawkeye’s life had always been his research, and he’d always walked the line between the legal and the forbidden, never trusting the government with the full extent of his work.
Like all licensed alchemists, he had dutifully submitted his arrays for recording at the central library and received permission to use them and teach them to others.
The array on Riza’s back, however, had been put there and not on paper for the precise reason that he did not want anyone else to get their hands on it. Never mind that creating arrays and not submitting them for governmental approval was illegal and could carry a death sentence depending on the potency of the alchemy involved. Never mind that even though Riza wasn’t the one to mark her skin and couldn’t see the array to use it, she’d be the one to suffer.
There wasn’t really a lot she could do about it.
Still trying not to cry with the pain, Riza made her way to the bathroom, scrambling through the cabinets for antiseptic. There wasn’t any. Why wasn’t she surprised? At least there were bandages; although she wasn’t sure how much good they would do, they’d be better than nothing.
She heard the knock on the door below her, and then Roy’s voice as her father let him in. Of course this would have to happen on one of the days that Roy was due to come for a session, because her skin couldn’t have seen fit to start trying to kill her on a day when she didn’t have to worry about strangers in the house potentially finding out about the elephant in the room and on her back.
Not that Roy was really a stranger, though. Riza reflected on their strange relationship as she cleaned up and bandaged her back as best she could. They’d been practically living in each other’s pockets for the last two years ever since her father had taken Roy on as an apprentice, begrudgingly accepting that caveat of keeping his state license and finally realising that all the research into flame alchemy in the world would be for nothing if he simply took it with him to his grave.
Riza still didn’t really know what that made them to each other, though. She liked to think that they were friends, although he spent most of his time these days holed up in the study. The more secretive her father had become about the full array, the less time the three of them had spent together in a more social setting; Roy was no longer welcome to stay for dinner, as much as Riza was ever desperate for a conversation partner and someone to deflect her father’s attention onto.
Her father was yelling at her to brew some tea and get breakfast ready, and Riza sighed, trying to adopt as normal a stance as possible, not letting show that something was wrong and that she was in pain. Not that her father would care (although perhaps he would – if her back got really bad then it might ruin his array, after all), but she didn’t want Roy to worry about her.
She downed a couple of painkillers – government issue and barely better than sugar pills but she could hope for a kind of placebo effect – and made her way downstairs to start the day. She could hear Roy and her father arguing over his decision to join the military academy. It was the same argument they had every time. Riza had never questioned Roy’s decision; his life was his own and in a place like a Amestris, the rigid life of the military was ironically the best place to gain a modicum of freedom. If you can’t beat them, join them and all that.
“Riza? Are you ok?”
She jumped at the voice and immediately spun round; she’d been so caught up in her own thoughts that she hadn’t noticed Roy follow her out of the study after she’d collected the tea things.
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? There’s blood on your back.”
“What? Shit!” She tried to look over her shoulder, finally catching a glimpse in the shiny metal of the oven door. Sure enough, spots of blood and fluid were seeping through the bandage and onto the back of her shirt.
“Riza?”
For the first time in her life, Riza could only feel utter blind panic.
“I’m fine,” she said quickly. “It’s nothing, I’m fine.”
“Riza, you look like you’re in pain. What happened?”
“Nothing!”
“Are you…”
“MUSTANG!”
Roy rolled his eyes at the summons. “You’re not fine,” he said, with a tone of stern finality that Riza had never heard in his voice before. He turned to leave the room and return to her father, and Riza felt herself sag, leaning back against the oven. Everything had just got so much worse.
Still, at least the cold metal was nice and numbing against her back.
She wasn’t really sure how long she stayed there, back pressed against the oven door and knowing she’d leave a wet smear there when she moved away. She should probably go and hide in her room so that Roy couldn’t question her again when he left, but at the same time, there was something in the back of her mind that wanted to speak to him again.
He was concerned about her. Riza couldn’t remember the last time that someone had been concerned about her, but now that she really thought about it, Roy had always looked out for her ever since he had first come into the house. The small part of her that had not completely given up all hope was nudging her to take the potential lifeline that might have been offered and cling to it. Surely Roy, of all people, would understand. He wouldn’t shop her to the military police if she told him about the tattoo. He knew her father, after all, knew what kind of a man he was even as he continued to learn under him.
She could trust Roy.
She hoped she could trust Roy. Roy trusted her, after all. She was pretty sure her father didn’t know that he’d grown up in a speakeasy and knew more about dodging the law than any nineteen-year-old should.
Perhaps that was part of the reason why he’d chosen to join the military. It was easier to protect the people you loved if you had inside knowledge of when the raids would be going on.
Roy trusted her. Roy knew all about living in less than legal circumstances beyond your control.
She could trust Roy.
Eventually, she could hear the sounds of the day’s session coming to a close, and her father yelling for her to show Roy out. She crept out into the hallway, waiting until he’d vanished back into his study before grabbing Roy and yanking him into the kitchen, barricading the door with a chair for good measure.
“Riza? What’s going on, are you ok?”
She shushed him.
“I need help,” she admitted. “I have no idea how you can help but I’m just hoping you might be able to give me some advice.”
“OK. You’re scaring me a little. And why is the door barricaded?”
“My father.”
“Right. Enough said, sorry. So, how can I help?”
Riza took a deep breath, turned her back and took her shirt off, crossing her arms over her chest even though she knew Roy couldn’t see anything. She heard his sharp intake of breath as he looked at the stark black ink and the wet and bloody bandages.
“Oh my God, Riza… How could he have done this to you?”
“What’s done is done.”
“Riza, I’m not a doctor but this is really bad, you need to see someone.”
“How can I, Roy? It’s an unregistered array, no doctor would touch it with a bargepole, they’ll just call the cops.”
There was silence for a long time, and Riza glanced over her shoulder at him. His brow was furrowed in deep thought, looking down at his spark gloves and the simplified flame array – the legal flame array – dyed into them.
“Please don’t kick up a fuss,” she begged. “If he knows you’ve seen the full array…”
“My lips are sealed, I promise. I think I know how to help you. Can you get out of the house tonight?”
He moved past her towards the fridge and Riza scrambled to put her shirt back on, ignoring the pain as the damp fabric brushed her inflamed skin.
“Have you got anything you can use as a cold compress until then?”
“No.”
“OK, well, try putting a couple of towels in the fridge or something to try and help keep any swelling down. If you can get out tonight, meet me by the phone booth in the park at nine o’clock, I should have got something organised by then.”
Riza nodded her understanding and removed the chair from under the door handle, letting Roy out of the house. Her father would probably have passed out by then, and it wasn’t the first time she’d snuck out after dark for a breath of fresh air and freedom.
She closed her eyes, resting her forehead against the front door with a sigh. If Roy couldn’t come through for her she didn’t know what she’d do, but she trusted that he’d think of something.
She trusted that he cared enough.
X
“Roy, this is your aunt’s speakeasy. When they said alcohol can be used as a disinfectant, I don’t think they were talking about bathtub moonshine.”
“Madam Christmas does not serve bathtub moonshine. I’ve never pried into where she gets it, but I know it’s not out of a bathtub. Anyway, we’re not here for the alcohol.”
Riza shivered in the cool night air, looking around at the deserted street. There were never many people around after dark. There wasn’t officially a curfew in Central City, but the police presence on the streets always doubled once the sun went down, and people weren’t inclined to hang around. Not that they were inclined to hang around much in the daytime, either. Even just going to the market to get groceries, everyone walked with purpose, eyes down.
“It’s a double front. Aunt Chris rents out a couple of the back rooms to an unlicensed medical alchemist. He’s not the cheapest, but he’s the safest. And he’s kind.”
“I know what that’s code for. Great. Now everyone’s going to think I’m here because I got myself in trouble.”
“Hohenheim does a lot more than that. Actually the thing he does most is stab wounds, as you do. But I won’t deny he does do a lot of that. Is that a problem?”
“Having my illegal alchemy tattoo treated by an illegal abortionist? No, Roy, that won’t be a problem.”
They entered into the quiet bookshop that served as a front for the speakeasy. Officially it was closed, although the lights were still on in the back and there was a girl sitting behind the counter, looking bored out of her mind by the pulp fiction romance novel she was reading. She just nodded at Roy, a regular visitor enough to be trusted without getting the third degree from the doorman, and he went through to the back room, opening the door to the basement and gesturing for Riza to go through.
“After you.”
She’d been in here once, a year ago now. It had been the middle of the day at the time and the bar hadn’t been properly open, just a few die-hard regulars in the corners. It had still been an experience though. Anything that wasn’t the four walls of her house was an experience. Her father had passed out and Roy had invited her to come for a walk with him, and they’d ended up in the speakeasy. She’d just turned seventeen and her father had just started to mark her back, and she’d been feeling rebellious – if I have a tattoo that might get me killed, might as well go to a place that might get me killed too.
Despite everything, including the undercurrent of fear at being caught either by the police or by her father, Riza still felt a certain warmth towards the place. It felt like more than just an illegal bar to her. It felt like a home. Maybe because it had been Roy’s home for so long, and he had seemed so at ease and alive in there.
He wasn’t quite as easy today, but he smiled at her when she looked back over her shoulder at him as they descended the stairs and entered the bar itself. It was busier tonight, in the height of its peak time, and Riza felt extremely self-conscious as Roy guided her through the room, bypassing the bar entirely and going towards the draped off area on the back wall.
He pulled back one of the curtains to reveal a suspiciously ordinary looking door. The door itself wasn’t suspicious, it was a normal wooden door, but there was something about it that made it look out of place, as if it shouldn’t have been there – like it hadn’t been there one moment and had mysteriously appeared the next. Maybe it had. Alchemy could do all kinds of things, after all.
Roy lifted his hand to knock but stopped short and turned to her. “Do you want me to come in with you?”
Riza shook her head. “No. I’ll be ok.” Honestly, she wanted nothing more than for Roy to come in with her, because whilst she definitely trusted him, she wasn’t entirely sure she trusted anyone else in the establishment; but since she was already paranoid about people getting the wrong impression as to why she was visiting an unregistered alchemist, she didn’t want them to think that Roy was the one who had potentially got her into that non-existent state.
That said, no one in the bar seemed to be paying them any mind, all too focussed on their drinks and on each other. They were in an illegal speakeasy after all, so they didn’t have all that much room to judge her.
“Ok. Well, Trisha can always come and grab me if you need me.”
Riza didn’t ask who Trisha was, and Roy left her alone, letting the curtain drop back down behind her and cutting her off from the heavy smell of alcohol and the muffled music.
She knocked timidly.
“Come in.”
Like most average, law-abiding citizens, Riza had never been to an unlicensed doctor or alchemist before, and from the gossip she’d heard flying around about them, she’d been expecting a scene from a horror film.
She was a little taken aback when she entered a clean, well-lit room with a couch covered in crisp white sheets, no sign of bloody surgical tools anywhere. The alchemist was washing his hands in the corner and he turned as she entered.
“Hello. Riza, is it? I’m Hohenheim, pleased to meet you. Roy said something about a skin problem, but he didn’t give me any details.”
Riza nodded. “I have a tattoo on my back, it’s infected.” She paused. “It’s an illegal alchemy array. My father is licensed, but he likes to experiment.”
Hohenheim’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. “On you?”
“No. Well. Not exactly. I’m just the notebook. He needs to write it down and he figured this was more secure than putting it on paper.”
“Hmm.” Although he said nothing more on the subject, there was sympathy in his golden eyes as he gestured to the couch. “If you take your top off and lie down on your front on the couch, I’ll take a look. Are you all right on your own? My wife’s just next door in the dispensary; she’ll happily come in if you would be more comfortable having another lady with you.”
“No, it’s ok.”
He turned his back as she pulled her coat and shirt off, and she saw him twitch as she let out an involuntary hiss of pain.
“I’m ready.”
His hands were warm on her back as he removed the dressings; she’d changed the bandages twice throughout the day, but she didn’t think it had made all that much difference to the infection.
“You’re in a lot of pain.” It was a statement, not a question. “It’s not as bad as it could have been, you managed to catch it early. If you’d left it any longer it might have caused some real damage.”
He draped her coat back over her. “Sit up a moment, I’ll need to draw the array.”
Riza watched as he worked straight onto the sheets with blue tailor chalk, marking out an intricate circle.
“That doesn’t look like alchemy.”
“It’s Xingese alkahestry. Far more widely used for medical purposes than destructive ones and sadly far more illegal in Amestris.”
“You’re from Xing?”
Hohenheim laughed. “No. I just spent a lot of time there.”
He glanced sideways at her and Riza noticed the golden eyes again. He might not be from Xing, but she didn’t think that he was entirely from Amestris either. Eye colour was usually a good indicator.
“Where are you from?”
“Nowhere.” There was sadness in the eyes now. “Lie back down, this won’t take a minute. It might sting a little.”
It was more like an electric shock than a sting, the lightning crackle of alchemy dancing over her skin, but when it was over, there was just blissful, blessed relief.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Hohenheim went over to the door in the corner as Riza got dressed again, tapping lightly. “Is it ready, Trisha?”
“Yes, love.” The door opened to reveal a small room barely bigger than a closet, filled from floor to ceiling with shelves of jars and bottles. A young woman wearing an apron came out and pressed a small pot into Riza’s hand.
“It’s a tea-tree salve, a natural antiseptic,” she said. “Rub it in every night before bed for a couple of weeks and everything should clear right up.”
“Thank you so much. How much do I owe you?” She’d raided the housekeeping and the scant savings she kept under her bed; she knew how much medical treatment cost ordinarily, but this was very different.
Hohenheim shook his head. “Roy paid in advance; didn’t he say?”
“Oh. No. Oh. Well. Thank you.”
She left the room, fighting her way through the curtain and out into the main room again. Roy was sitting at the bar waiting for her.
“All sorted?”
Riza nodded. “Yes, thanks.”
“Great. Can I get you a drink to calm your nerves?”
“Roy, she’s only seventeen.” Behind the bar, Madam Christmas gave her nephew a pointed look, before heaving a long sigh. “I guess there’s no legal drinking age in a country where no one’s allowed to drink anyway. Pick your poison, hun, but I’m not serving you spirits.”
Riza shook her head. “If he smells it on me there’ll be hell to pay. I should probably be getting back before he realises I’m out.”
Roy nodded, and the brief flash of sorrowful sympathy in his face did not go unnoticed. He slid off his bar stool, walking through the bar with her.
“I’ll walk you home in case of patrols.”
They didn’t speak for a long time after they left the shop, both of them lost in their thoughts. It was only once they were nearing the Hawkeye home on the outskirts of the town that Riza remembered she hadn’t thanked Roy properly.
“Hohenheim said you paid for my treatment.”
“Yeah.” Roy’s smile was sheepish in the dim moonlight. “I figured it was only fair. It’s not your fault the tattoo you had no say in getting got infected. Why should you have to pay the price for it?”
“Thank you.”
“Any time.”
They stopped at the gate, and Riza knew that if this was a romance novel of the type that the bookshop front sold, now would be the point where they would kiss and declare their undying love for each other.
It wasn’t really undying love, per se, but there was definitely something there, something that Riza could not quite define yet.
Feeling emboldened now that she was no longer in pain, she darted in and pressed a peck to Roy’s cheek. Even in the darkness, she could see the beginnings of colour coming up in his face, and she could feel that hers was just the same.
“Good night, Roy.”
“Good night, Riza.��
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winryofresembool · 6 years
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Kid!Ed fic: The Sky He Lost
A/N: Tadah, @silverfangirl15! Here is your gift fic! Your wish was: “Young Ed and Al before their mom’s death” and you wanted to see how they reacted to Hohenheim leaving. This fic is definitely more Ed focused but that’s because Al was so small at that point I don’t think he understood the situation as well as Ed did. And because I’m me, I had to include some kid!Edwin too :P But I still hope you enjoy! I am quite proud of this fic, but it wouldn’t have taken the form it did without my awesome beta reader @randomlyopeneddictionary who was so very helpful, so thank you once again ♥ And thank you to @criis55 too because you gave me plenty of ideas too ♥ Now, just enjoy and please do review because trust me I want to know!!
Characters: Ed, Trisha, Al, Winry
Genre: hurt/comfort (the Best genre) 
Words: 3509 
Warnings: get some tissues for some Trisha angst maybe
AO3
“Boys! Winry is here!” Trisha Elric yelled at her two sons.
A couple of days had gone by since her husband* had left the house, but she had barely seen her sons since then. Edward seemed to start taking an interest in his father’s book collection, and since Alphonse followed his big brother everywhere, he was also hidden behind a huge book pile even though he had just recently started recognizing letters. Trisha didn’t really know what to think of this change. It seemed to be her sons’ way of coping with what had happened with their father, but Ed seemed to take it to the extreme: last night she had found the golden-haired boy so much like his father asleep in Van Hohenheim’s library, tears streaking his face and his cheek pressed against a hard book cover. During the day he was acting tough, as if trying to convince her things would be OK, but the wet-cheeked little boy she had carried into his bed at night proved otherwise. He thought Hohenheim wasn’t coming back. And he didn’t take that information well. Trisha’s heart clenched even more when she realized the book Ed had been reading was one his father had read him and Al before bedtime countless of times.
Shaking her head to stop her train of thoughts, Trisha was relieved to notice that her boys did bother to come down from the library this time. A day after Hohenheim leaving, their kindergarten mate Pitt had tried to ask them to come out and play. That time Ed had stubbornly claimed he didn’t feel like playing because ‘playing was for kids’, and Pitt had had to leave with a disappointed expression on his face. Winry seemed to be a different story though.
Trisha had always thought her sons (especially Edward) had a soft spot for the neighbor girl. Sure, Ed and Winry got into arguments a lot, but they always made up in the end and had fun playing together, at least until they got into another argument. One time a boy from kindergarten had wanted to walk Winry home, and Ed had seethed with anger for the rest of the day. Another time Ed’s teachers informed her Ed had punched someone at the kindergarten, and when she asked why he did it, he explained: “he said Winry is stupid.”
“But Edward, you told Winry the same thing yesterday! How is that any different?” Trisha scolded him.
“It IS different! I don’t mean it.” Ed said quietly, staring at his feet awkwardly.
“Oh? Have you told her that?” Trisha wanted to know.
“No. Should I?” Ed asked, suddenly looking ashamed.
“Of course you should. One day she’s really going to think you think she’s stupid,” Trisha noted, casually continuing her work after that and leaving Ed to consider his words.
After that Ed seemed to speak to Winry slightly nicer, although being the two stubborn kids they were, that didn’t prevent them from getting into occasional fights. Alphonse, despite being the youngest, was usually the one who managed to calm them down. That was a huge relief for his mother because she had enough work to do even without getting between the kids’ constant arguments.
Trisha wondered if Pinako had told Winry about Van Hohenheim and she had come to see if she could cheer the boys up. Based on her happy expression, though, she started suspecting that Winry hadn’t heard the news yet. When she and the boys sat down in the kitchen to drink some orange juice and eat freshly baked pie, Winry started explaining the reason for her excitement.
“Mum and dad are coming home for a visit tomorrow! We just got the letter!”
“Oh? That’s nice!” Trisha said, worried her sons (or rather, just Edward) would not react well to the news because of their father. She could already feel Ed’s glare on her.
“They’ll not believe their eyes when I show them how much I’ve learned since they last saw me!” Winry continued excitedly. “I can already build a toy car from steel. And one day I will build an automail limb, I swear.”
“Big deal,” Ed huffed. “When our dad comes back, we can already build a life size car with alchemy, right, Al?”
Trisha glanced at her son sadly. His words contradicted with how he was acting when he thought no one was seeing, and she knew he was just putting on an act.
“Of course!” Al agreed, even though he was more interested in eating his pie than participating in the conversation.
“Wait… what has happened to your dad? He isn’t here?” Winry asked, frowning as she processed the information.
“Nothing happened to him,” Ed said, his voice telling Winry to not ask any more questions.
“He… just has an important mission somewhere,” Trisha added, but Winry wasn’t stupid. She could see something was going on. Just when the little girl was about to ask something, Ed got up from his seat and took his plate and drink with him, storming out of the room.
“What was that about?” she asked once Ed was out of hearing distance.
Trisha decided it was better for Winry to know the truth. “I think… I think he got upset when you told about your parents… because the thing is, we don’t know when my husband returns. It could be soon, but it could also take years. I don’t think my husband knows it either.”
“Oh. I’m sorry,” Winry said, really meaning it. “I can go and talk to Ed.”
She thought her experiences on absent parents could be helpful to Ed. However, it turned out she was wrong, because soon Trisha could hear Ed’s carrying voice all the way to the kitchen:
“I DON’T NEED YOUR HELP! IT’S NONE OF YOUR BUSINESS! AND WHAT DO YOU EVEN CARE, YOUR PARENTS ARE COMING HOME TO SEE YOU SOON, RIGHT? SO GO HOME AND LEAVE ME ALONE.”
Winry ran back downstairs, tears falling down her face. She didn’t even say goodbye to Al and Trisha when she pulled her shoes on and left the house.
Even though Ed had always been more challenging to raise than Al, there weren’t that many times that Trisha had truly gotten angry at her son. Usually he understood himself when he had crossed the line and tried to fix the situation in his own way. But this time his mother couldn’t just stand there and see him hurt his best friend just because he was hurting.
“Edward Elric,” she started threateningly. “I will not allow you to talk to your friend that way. Do you understand? Winry was only worried about you! She wanted to help you. You had better apologize to her when you see her again at the kindergarten tomorrow.”
“What? I’m not going there! You said we…” Ed tried to protest, remembering well how Trisha had promised the boys could take a few days off so they could spend more time together.
“You are going there. And you will apologize to her. I will ask Winry personally if you did.” Trisha didn’t want to admit she did have also another reason for sending the boys to the daycare the next day. She had a doctor’s appointment, just to make sure… but it was far too early to worry the boys with that yet.
“Fine,” Ed growled and hid his face behind a book to let his mother know he was done talking about this topic.
Trisha didn’t give up so easily, though. Sitting down on Ed’s bed, she took the book from his hands and set it on the table out of the boy’s reach. Ed groaned and gave her the darkest look he could master before burying his face into a pillow. If there was something that made him regret his actions faster than anything else, it was his mother’s sad eyes, and he couldn’t let himself fall into that trap again.
Sighing, Trisha finally spoke:
“Edward, we need to talk about this. I know you are hurting. Please, talk to me. Tell me what’s in your mind.”
“I… I think dad hates me.” She could finally hear a broken voice from under the pillow.
“Why would you think that way?” Trisha asked. In her opinion, Hohenheim had always showed he cared about the kids a lot… Although, now that she thought of it, he did it in his own, reserved way that may be hard for a child to pick.
“Because he just left! And didn’t even say anything!” Ed shouted and threw the pillow on the floor with anger. “What kind of dad does that?!”
For a moment Trisha didn’t know what to say. “Ed… you may not believe me right now, but… he definitely doesn’t hate you. He cares about both of you so, so much.”
“Then why did he leave?” Ed asked bitterly.
“Because he had to,” Trisha tried to explain patiently. “You are too small to understand, but one day you will…”
“I’m not small!” Ed protested, simply the use of the s-word making him furious.
“That is not what I meant.” Trisha sighed again, her patience starting to grow thin. Still, she continued calmly: “Just listen to what I have to say now. Remember how your dad made you the swing? Or read you one of his books? Or bought Al that cat plush even though I said you guys already had enough of them? Or comforted you when you had nightmares? Does a person who doesn’t care do that?”
“I… I don’t…” Ed stuttered.
“You may not understand this yet, but the reason why he left without saying anything was because the thought of seeing your sad faces… it hurt him so much. Like you are hurting now.” She put a hand on Ed’s heart, trying to make Ed understand. The little boy finally reached his breaking point and inched closer to his mother, sobbing uncontrollably against her shoulder until his breathing got calmer. He had fallen asleep. Trisha stroked his hair, mumbling quietly even though he couldn’t hear her anymore: “Please, forgive him. One day… one day, you might need each other.”
After setting Ed back in his bed, Trisha noticed that Al was standing behind the door, apparently too afraid to come inside. “Come here, darling.” Al did just that, sprinting onto his mother’s lap.
“Will brother be OK?” he asked worriedly.
“He will, Alphonse, I’m sure of it.”
As she hugged her youngest son tightly, she felt thankful Al was still too young to understand the whole situation. Quietly, she sent her prayer to the stars she could see through the window: “Hohenheim, please come back soon. Before it’s too late.”
“Stupid kindergarten, stupid Winry, stupid mum.”
The next day, Edward and Alphonse went to the kindergarten like planned, but Ed wasn’t particularly thrilled about it. Normally Winry, who occasionally joined the boys so she could play with kids of her age, would have walked with them. This time, however, Pinako and she were walking with Charlie, a boy from their class, and the two kids seemed to be having a lot of fun together. That didn’t help to ease Ed’s annoyance towards the girl, and when they finally arrived at their destination, he didn’t feel like apologizing to her. When Winry glanced at his way briefly, she looked so sad and hurt that it only made Ed angrier. He didn’t understand it was because he was angry at himself for making her so upset for a stupid reason. After all, it was like his mother had said: she only wanted to help.
Until lunch the day progressed quite normally; playing outside, crafting and other typical kindergarten activities. Even Ed managed to forget about the upsetting home situation for a moment. But once the kids sat down to eat their meals, one of the boys asked: “Hey, Ed, is it true what my mother said? That your father just left?”
Ed simply glared at him, clenching his small fists. He had never liked this boy because he was constantly bragging about a great new toy he had gotten or a new place his dad had taken him to see. The boy had also spread some rumors about seeing Ed and Winry kissing when they were walking home together, which was entirely untrue. Ew, Ed thought, Winry had girl cooties and was way too annoying that he’d ever want to do that! Finally, he managed to retort:
“I don’t know, Tom, but I heard that you are getting a fist in your face real soon if you don’t shut up.”
Tom eyed Ed suspiciously, wondering if the golden eyed boy would really attack him in front of all the kindergarten teachers. He knew Ed wasn’t afraid to fight but usually he wasn’t that forward about it. He was his mother’s golden boy and didn’t want her to know about his shenanigans, or that was at least what the other kids claimed. But still, Tom had to admit he was slightly afraid of the smaller boy.
“You… you don’t want to fight me here,” he answered, although uncertainly, and decided to move to eat at another table.
From the corner of his eye Ed could see Winry looking at him with an expression that was hard to read. There was anger in it, but also a hint of… sadness? Worry? Ed started lapping food into his mouth in an outrageous speed pretending he didn’t notice anything, and the little girl sighed. That was so typical Edward behavior.
“What are you staring at?” Ed suddenly stopped eating, making Winry realize she must have been watching him longer than intended.
“Nothing.” Winry glared at him and rose from the table as well, joining Nelly who had already finished her lunch.
“Big brother… didn’t mum say you should tell her you’re sorry?” Al noted once he had listened to enough Ed’s mumbling under his breath.
“But she doesn’t want to be apologized to,” Ed growled and told his little brother to mind his own business.
It was almost time for Trisha to pick the boys up, but Ed still hadn’t managed to apologize to Winry. After the lunch she had stuck with her girl friends and tried to ignore Ed the best she could, although when she thought Ed wasn’t watching, she still threw worried looks at his direction. Maybe Ed would have stayed quiet the entire day if Pinako Rockbell hadn’t arrived before Trisha to take Winry home. At first the girl’s face lit up with excitement because she thought her grandmother had come early to tell her her parents were finally home, but the excitement soon turned into tears. Ed overheard Pinako saying:
“I’m sorry dear, there was some big incident and your parents need to stay there for at least a few more weeks… Your father said they are not sure how long exactly it will take. But don’t worry, I’m sure they will come back soon enough. They sent you a lot of hugs and kisses.”
Ed was used to seeing Pinako as the strict grandparent who made sure Winry wasn’t slacking off, and who wasn’t afraid to yell at him and Al too whenever they did something she didn’t approve of, so this soft side surprised her. Her parents’ return must have been really important to Winry.
Suddenly it occurred to Ed that Winry’s situation wasn’t really that different from his. He had never before stopped to think that Winry must miss her parents a lot, but now that he saw Winry’s expression, he understood how she felt. And he felt bitter for her friend. How couldn’t her parents understand she wanted them home? Surely there would be other doctors that could help around while they were gone! Ed couldn’t stand that and decided it was finally his time to apologize.
“Winry…” he said surprisingly quietly when he approached her. Pinako watched the two of them curiously.
“What do you want now?” Winry hissed, narrowing her eyes like a cat and swiping her tears away. “If you came here because you…”
“No! I mean… Listen… I’m sorry. I said some mean things yesterday. I didn’t mean them.”
Winry wasn’t expecting Ed to apologize, so she stopped glaring at him and nodded, waiting for Ed to continue.
“I just… dad and…” he stammered, trying to get full sentences out of his mouth. “Can we go to your place?” He asked suddenly. “I don’t want everyone staring.”
“You will have to tell your mother first,” Pinako noted. “She wants to know where you two are. Alphonse, will you come with us?”
“Sure!” the younger Elric brother exclaimed and excused his friend with whom he was building sand animals. The teachers knew the Elrics lived right next to the Rockbells so they just nodded their goodbyes when the trio left with Pinako.
After having dropped Al off (Ed claimed someone had seen a kitten at their yard the other day, so he happily stayed home trying to look for it) Ed and Winry went into Winry’s room to talk. Both sat down on her neatly made bed, Winry pulling her legs closer to her body as she was waiting for Ed to start the conversation. Ed looked around for a moment, taking in all the metal toys and some failed experiments Winry had in her room. She had once told him making them made her feel less sad. Based on the amount of toys, she must have felt sad a lot lately… How had he failed to notice?
“So…” Ed started awkwardly.
“So…” Winry repeated.
“I… I think I understand how you feel now.” Ed blurted out eventually, shifting uncomfortably on the bed.
“Huh?” Winry asked, confused.
“You’re mad at your parents, right?” Ed elaborated. “Because they are not here.”
“I… I don’t want to be!” She said quickly, her voice shriller than usual. “I know those people need their help! So I’m trying to understand…”
A weird feeling Ed didn’t recognize filled him for a moment, when he realized his friend had entirely different approach to her situation than he did. Winry tried her best to endure, even if it hurt.
“But sometimes you still wonder why they don’t just stay here,” he finished for Winry.
“Yeah… What if they don’t like me?” she asked, confirming Ed they had similar suspicions about their parents.
“Don’t be stupid!” he exclaimed. He had seen Winry with her parents many times and he knew they cared. Besides, this was Winry, his best friend they were talking about. “Of course they like you. How could they not?”
“W-what do you mean?” Winry asked.
Ed blushed slightly. He wasn’t used to telling what he really felt. “Y-you’re the nicest person I know. Well, maybe after my mum,” he was quick to add. “When you’re not throwing stuff. Anyway, I still think they would have to be pretty dumb to not notice that.”
“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever told me.” Winry looked at him with awe. “Sometimes I’ve thought you think I’m stupid because you always repeat that…”
“You’re such a gearhead.” For the first time in days a tiny smile played on Ed’s lips. “Of course I don’t think that way. You’re my best friend!”
“And you’re my best friend,” Winry answered, trying to brush the wetness away from the corner of her eye before Ed could see.
“Hey, are you crying again?” Ed, who had of course noticed, freaked out, always hating to see her cry.
“Don’t worry, it’s just a happy tear.” Winry tried to calm him down. “Thanks, Ed. I’m feeling much better now. Sometimes I just get overwhelmed… I worry about my parents a lot… And I was worried about you and Al too. I’m really sorry about your dad.”
“The worst part is hearing my mum crying,” Ed said quietly. “She doesn’t cry in front of us but sometimes she withdraws into her room and I can hear her… And then I get so angry at my dad!”
“Your mum said he has some important mission,” Winry noted. “Sort of like my parents.”
“It doesn’t matter how important it is, he still left,” Ed growled, although the sharpest edge was already gone from his voice.
“And now you are worried he hates you,” Winry finally understood what Ed had been talking about this entire time. Gently, she nudged him on the shoulder. “Hey, I’m sure he still cares about you a lot. He would have to be pretty dumb to not.” She repeated Ed’s earlier phrase and ruffled his hair like he always did when he tried to comfort her.
“When you say that… I feel I can almost believe it.” Ed answered, and leaned his head against her shoulder, which was easy because she was quite a bit taller than him.
Maybe that conversation didn’t remove all of Ed’s worries, but he felt a lot lighter after talking with Winry. It made him understand he wasn’t alone with his issue.
* I know Hohenheim wasn’t officially Trisha’s husband but it was the simplest solution to call him that way.
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