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Controlled Fires

Summary:

Nobody on Team Mustang was sure what to expect when two traumatized children joined their team. The only thing they knew was that these kids were going to need all the help they could get, and it was up to them to keep the Amestrian military from chewing them up and spitting them out, or worse, actually turning them into soldiers.
A series of stories about Ed and Al's early days in the military.

Notes:

Transferring all of my FMA works to a new account. Sorry for those who lost their bookmarks.

Chapter Text

Nobody really knew what to expect when Colonel Mustang announced the newest members of their team, a 12 year old state alchemist and his younger brother who lived inside a suit of armor. None of them were allowed to question why he lived inside a suit of armor. Honestly, Havoc thought that he was insane. Since when did they allow children to become state certified and fight in their battles?

But then the day arrived. A hulking suit of armor that kept nervously drumming its leather fingers together and a remarkably short boy with long blond hair and an air of simmering rage stood side by side.

“Everyone, this is Major Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist. Fullmetal, this is my team. You’ve met First Lieutenant Hawkeye. This is Second Lieutenants Havoc, Falman, and Breda and Master Sergeant Fuery.”

They all saluted, though Havoc wasn’t sure he cared for saluting to a child. The kid nodded at them awkwardly, one arm gripping the other. 

“They’ll be staying in the dorms. Lieutenant Havoc, would you mind showing them the way?”

“On it, sir.” Havoc flashed the kids a grin, reaching down to take the suitcase by Edward’s feet and slinging it over his shoulder.

“You don’t have to do that, sir!” squeaked the armor. Havoc wasn’t sure what he was expecting the younger Elric to sound like, but it wasn’t quite that. Having that high-pitched child’s voice coming out of the massive, intimidating suit was a bit jarring. How the fuck did the kid even fit in there?

“It’s no problem. Just being polite.” He kept glancing down at Edward as they walked down the hall. The boy’s face was set in a grim line, his golden eyes darting back and forth as he took in his surroundings. His fists clutching at the sleeves of his red coat were the only things betraying his nerves. Havoc frowned as he caught a whiff of smoke from his clothing. Not cigarette smoke like his, but fire smoke. Had he been to a bonfire before he came?

He finally found their door and pushed it open. It swung in to reveal a bare room with two beds, a desk, and an overhead light. “Here you go. Home sweet home.”

“Thanks,” said Edward. He glanced around the room, then plopped down on the bed. Havoc caught a glimpse of metal as his coat sleeve slid down his arm.

“So, uhhh… state alchemist at twelve, huh?” He shifted, rubbing the back of his head.

“Yeah.”

“What made you decide to do that?”

Edward looked him in the eyes for the first time and Havoc barely avoided taking a step back. There was too much pain in that gaze for a twelve year old boy. If the stories were right - and he wasn’t sure they were, there was too much that didn’t add up about them - he’d lost his arm and leg in the Ishvalan civil war. He’d gone through with the incredibly painful process of automail surgery at the tender age of eleven. He was here, walking, within a year, when by all accounts it took three years at least to recover from that. This kid had gone through hell and come out scorched.

The other thing that struck him was the fierce determination in those golden eyes. He knew, without a doubt, that Edward Elric would do whatever he had to to accomplish his goals. No wonder he and Mustang got along so well.

“There’s something I need to do,” said the boy. “I made a promise.”

Well. That was ominous. What the fuck was this kid’s life?

“I’m gonna let you get settled in. Breda and I are right next door if you need anything and Fallman and Fuery are down the hall from us. If you have any questions, just ask.”

“Thanks, sir!” said the armor. “Oh, by the way, I’m Alphonse.”

“Nice to meet you, Alphonse. And you, Ed. See you around.”

Havoc took a deep breath as he closed the door, leaning his forehead against it for a moment. He knew why Mustang had made this decision now. There was a fire in that boy like he’d never seen. And fires were best controlled, lest they burn themselves and everything around them up. He just wished that the military hadn’t been the best route for helping him.

“So?” asked Breda when he rejoined the others. “What do you think?”

Havoc lit a cigarette and took a long drag, blowing out a puff of smoke. “Those kids have a long road ahead of them.”

And he was going to help them through it.

Over the next few days, the team got to learn a bit more about the Elric brothers. Alphonse was a delight. He was sweet, friendly, and always ready to help. He even won Fuery’s undying love by letting him ramble about radios for nearly an hour. The suit of armor was still a mystery, but the boy underneath it was a kind-hearted eleven year old trying his best to impress the people around him. Everyone fell in love instantly.

And Edward? Ed was a fucking menace.

It took approximately two days before the shouting matches from Colonel Mustang’s office started. Everyone else sat there, trying their hardest not to laugh as their commanding officer traded insults and jabs with an irate child. It usually ended with Ed stomping out of the office, either glowering or smirking depending on how the argument went. Havoc always gave him a high five on the way out.

“You shouldn’t encourage that behavior,” said Hawkeye. But the way her lips twitched told everyone that she was enjoying this as much as they were.

Edward was also desperate for their approval, though he tried to hide it more than his brother. Havoc noted how he lit up like a firework at the slightest bit of praise and the grin on his face when one of them teased him or ruffled his hair, despite how much he pretended to be annoyed.

His annoyance at the short jokes, though, that was genuine. His temper was about the size of his stature, which made needling him about it that much more entertaining.

All in all, the Elric brothers were delightful. Havoc could barely remember what the place had been like without them. They were settling in well and Mustang was already preparing missions for them to go on. Everything seemed to be going smoothly. Until, of course, it wasn’t.

It had to be three in the morning. Havoc sat bolt upright in his bed as the sound of piercing screams echoed through the hall. Breda was already tugging on his shirt and grabbing his gun.

Oh god. That was Ed’s voice. Fuck. Havoc scrambled for the door, rushing to Ed’s room and all but kicking it open.

“Brother!” Al was sitting on the bed, clasping Ed’s wrists as he futilely tried to pull away. The boy was white and shaking, tears streaming down his cheeks as he screamed. “Brother, it’s alright!”

“I’m sorry!” shrieked Ed, squirming. He managed to pull his left arm out of Al’s grip and clutched at his hair, his nails digging into his scalp. “I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry please don’t take him please I’m sorry please come back, Mom, help, they’re taking him-”

“Take it easy, chief.” Havoc stepped forwards, then stopped as Ed froze and shrunk back. “You’re safe now, alright?”

Ed just stared at them, not comprehending. His eyes were wide and his breathing came in short, shallow gasps.

“Fuck,” muttered Breda. “The fuck do we do with this?”

“I know!” Fuery had appeared at the door, Falman right behind him. “Be right back!” The young man disappeared, then returned with his arms full of a heavy quilted blanket. “Here,” he panted. “This might help him.”

“Thanks,” whispered Al. He took the blanket from Fuery, then draped it around Ed’s shoulders. The boy stiffened at first, then relaxed slightly.

“Ed?” Havoc hesitantly began to approach again. Ed didn’t shrink back like before, so he slowly took a seat at the edge of the bed. “Do you know where you are, kid?”

Ed hesitated, drawing in a gulp of air. “D-dorms?”

“That’s right.” Havoc moved slowly, signaling every move and giving him plenty of time to protest. He took the kid’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “D’you know me?”

“Havoc.” Ed looked around, seeming to comprehend how many people were in his room for the first time. He shrunk back again, letting go of Havoc’s hand and wrapping an arm around his knee. “D-did I wake you all?”

“Sure did.” Breda sat down on Al’s bed, giving him a smile.

“We don’t mind, though!” said Fuery. “I wasn’t sleeping anyways.”

“It’s true,” sighed Falman. “He wasn’t.”

“I’m sorry. It was just a nightmare. I didn’t mean to wake you all up. You-you can go back to your rooms now.”

“Hey.” Havoc took his hand again, giving it a squeeze. “We all have nightmares, kid. And that seemed like a pretty rough one.”

“It’s no big deal. I can handle it.”

“Or we can deal with it together.”

“I don’t need to be babied!” snapped Ed, pulling away from him. “I’m not some fucking kid. I don’t need to freak out like this over bad dreams.”

Goddamnit. Of course he was hyper-independent. Havoc didn’t know what else he’d expected from a twelve year old who’d taken it upon himself to join the military.

“We all have rough nights,” said Breda. “I know I’ve woken everyone up a time or two. And I’m always glad that this asshole’s here to help me through it.”

Havoc rolled his eyes, resisting the urge to throw a pillow at his head.

“It’s no big deal,” Ed insisted. “I’m fine.”

If this kid was fine, then Havoc was a saint. “Look. How about we help you out this time and then next time Breda has a nightmare about being chased by a giant glowing dog that’s doing the charleston it’s your turn.”

“That was one time,” grumbled Breda. “It’s way more terrifying when it happens to you.”

Hah. Victory. The kid cracked a smile. “Fine.”

“I’ve got a deck of cards in my room,” said Falman. “How about I go grab it and we can teach you some games?”

“Sure. Why not.” Ed was more relaxed now, one hand propped on his knee as he rested his chin on it. Havoc noticed how he was starting to lean suspiciously towards him and smiled, settling himself in a position where Ed could lean against him if he wanted.

“Falman, what are you planning on teaching him?” said Fuery.

Falman just smiled as he left the room. Cool. Falman was definitely going to teach him to cheat and everyone’s lives would officially be over. But it was worth it so long as it got Ed to smile.

Riza was surprised when she came into work the next morning and found none of her team around. Sure it was earlier than usual on a Saturday, but usually at least Falman would be up and about. She slipped down the hall to the dorms, hoping that no disasters had occurred in the night.

Ed’s door was slightly open and she peeked in, then smiled at the scene. Alphonse looked up as she looked in, holding a finger to his lips. Breda was sound asleep on the floor, partially on top of a scattered deck of cards. Fuery was curled up next to him and Falman was lying the wrong direction on Al’s bed. Havoc was sound asleep, and settled next to him with his head on his shoulder was Ed. He was smiling slightly and more at peace than she’d ever seen him.

“Ed had a nightmare,” whispered Al. “So they all came in here.”

Of course her team had taken to these kids instantly. She’d known they would. Whatever life had planned for the Elric brothers next, they’d just gained a team of loyal idiots who would do anything for them. They’d never have to face it alone again.

Chapter Text

It was late. Roy should’ve been asleep hours ago. But hours ago he’d had an extremely pissed off lieutenant pointing a gun in his face and telling him that he would finish his paperwork or so help her, sir, she’d make sure he had no choice but to make sure it got done. So now, long after everyone had gone to bed, he sat in his office and stared forlornly at the forms that he could never seem to make himself start.

Hm. The ink was starting to swim in front of his eyes. Maybe it was time for a break. Roy pushed his chair back and stood up, stretching his arms over his head, then paused as he heard a faint clanging sound from the hallway. He knew that sound. That was the familiar sound of a very large suit of armor trying very hard to be stealthy and utterly failing. He sighed, stepping outside his office.

Sure enough, Alphonse Elric was in the hallway, trying to sneak back to his dorm room. He froze as the door opened, whirling. “Colonel Mustang! I-I didn’t know you were still here.”

“I had paperwork to finish. It’s late, Alphonse. Shouldn’t you be resting?”

The boy sighed, looking down. “I don’t sleep, sir. I can’t.”

Right. Soul in a suit of armor. “Out for a walk, then?”

“Uh-huh!” He sounded nervous. That put Roy on edge. Alphonse being nervous could mean anything from him having a rough day to still being nervous around military personnel to Fullmetal was doing something stupid again and they were trying to keep him from finding out about it.

“Right.” Roy narrowed his eyes at him. “Is there anything you need to tell me?”

“No, sir!” squeaked Al.

“And if I go check on your dorm room, I’ll find Fullmetal asleep and not out destroying the city?”

Al blinked. “Why would brother be destroying the city?”

Good. Whatever he was worried about, it didn’t involve one of Fullmetal’s stunts. Which meant that this was not his problem. “Nevermind. I’m going to head out for the night.”

“Goodnight, sir.” Al was shifting his feet, looking uncomfortable. Something was still going on here, but whatever it was could wait until the morning. Roy yawned, heading for the door.

“Goodnight, Alphonse.”

“Sir?”

Al’s plaintive voice stopped him in his tracks. Roy cursed under his breath. All he wanted to do was go home and get some sleep, but no. He had to deal with the Elrics. “Yes?”

“Is there… anything you need me to do? Any odd jobs or anything? I know I’m not technically part of the military, but…”

Roy turned back to look at him, frowning. “Didn’t you spend all day researching in the library?”

“Mmhmm. They kicked me out.”

“And now you’re asking for more work.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Alphonse, you do realize that you need to rest.”

“...I don’t sleep. Remember?”

Damnit. He wasn’t going to get to bed for a while. “Rest doesn’t just mean sleep. You need to take a break from working and take some time for yourself.”

Al didn’t answer him. He was looking at the floor, his arms wrapped around himself.

“Alphonse.”

“Please give me something to do,” he whispered. “I… I need to be doing something. I don’t want the thoughts to get me.”

Aw, hell. He should’ve seen this one coming. And maybe found a time to have this conversation that wasn’t at this hour of the night. “Every try talking about the thoughts?”

Al shook his head rapidly. “That means I have to think about them.”

He sighed, running a hand down his face. He really needed to get these kids some help. Unfortunately, he didn’t even know where to start with this. Maybe it was best if Al just kept avoiding it until he had some help unpacking it. After all, it’s what he’d done and he’d turned out fine.

…Maybe he was a bad example.

“Alright. I understand that. Do you have any… I dunno, hobbies or anything?”

Al shrugged. “Alchemy.”

“That’s not a hobby, that’s work.”

“Fighting?”

“That’s also work.” These kids were going to give him a permanent migraine.

“Uhhh…”

“Books? Trading cards? Sports?” What did eleven year old boys even like?

“I like animals.”

Okay. That was a start. Maybe he could find an animal shelter willing to let a sentient suit of armor work nights and not ask questions? Or maybe it would be simpler to ask Hawkeye if he could watch Black Hayate. “Anything else?”

“Not that I can think of.”

Roy sighed, walking over to Havoc’s desk and pulling the stash of comic books he wasn’t supposed to have out of the drawer. He thumbed through them to make sure there wasn’t anything inappropriate for an eleven year old, then handed them to Al. “Here. Take these for now. I’ll see if I can’t find you something to do later.”

“You don’t have to do that, sir! I’m used to nights by now.”

“Just let me do you a damn favor, Al.” It was way too late at night to argue with him.

“...alright. Thank you, sir. Goodnight.” Al took the comic books and shuffled off back to the dorms. Just as Roy thought he was finally going to get to go home and get some rest, he heard a soft, plaintive meow. 

“Alphonse.”

The armor froze. “Yes, sir?”

“Was that a meow?”

“No, sir.”

“It sounded an awful lot like a meow.”

“It was just me! I was just, uh, stimming! Meow. Like that.” The excuse would’ve been a lot better if the same sad meow hadn’t echoed from inside his armor while he spoke, coupled with the sound of scratching.

“Somehow I doubt you can meow and speak at the same time.”

“You don’t know that. I don’t have a mouth.”

“If I look in your armor, will I see another cat?”

“Uhhh…”

“You know there’s no pets allowed in the dorms, Alphonse.”

Al sighed. He opened his chestplate and reached in, bringing out an orange kitten that sat in the palm of his hand. As it uncurled Roy saw that there was a stump where one of its front legs should be. “I couldn’t just leave him out there. He was so small.”

“We can take him to an animal shelter.”

Al sighed, running one finger along the kitten’s back. It rubbed against it, purring like a freight engine. “I want to make sure he goes to a good owner.”

“I’m sure the shelter can take care of that.”

Al looked up at him, his red eyes glimmering with what would likely be the beginnings of tears in anyone else. “Colonel Mustang, can’t you take him? I really want him to be okay.”

Roy pinched the bridge of his nose. “Alphonse…”

“Please?” How in the world was a giant suit of armor managing to look that pathetic? How was Al making a helmet give him puppy eyes? Did this boy have some sort of witchcraft? “He… he reminds me of brother.”

Fuck. Of course he did. Of course. How the fuck was Roy supposed to say no to that?

“I-it’s alright if you can’t.”

“I’ll take him. Just until we can find a better home for him.”

“Thank you!” Al was beaming at him now, holding out the kitten. Roy sighed, picking it up gingerly. “Thank you so much, sir!”

“Don’t mention it,” Roy grunted. “Goodnight.”

Finally, he was out the door. Roy stared down at the little bundle of fur in his hands, wondering just how he’d gotten into this position. “So. I guess… you’re staying with me for now.”

The cat stretched, sniffing his thumb, then began to nibble on it. Roy hissed, nearly dropping it. “Hey! You can’t eat that.”

Great. Now it was reminding him of Fullmetal, too. Just great.

Chapter Text

“Havoc! In here!”

Havoc blinked as Falman pulled him inside his room. “What is it? What’s going on?”

“Falman’s being creepy,” supplied Breda helpfully. He was already sitting on the bed, holding a hot dog in one hand. 

“I’m gathering information,” said Falman. “The Colonel and Hawkeye won’t talk much about the Elrics. We all know there’s something weird about them. I’m saying we pool our knowledge and figure out what’s going on and how we can help them.”

“Maybe there’s a reason we’re not being told anything?” said Fuery.

“I’m sure the Colonel has his reasons. But you can’t tell me you’re not curious.”

“Alright,” sighed Havoc, leaning back and propping his head behind his hands. “Whatcha got?”

Falman grinned. “I’m glad you asked.” He reached under his bed and pulled out a bulletin board covered in yarn, pushpins, pictures, and notes.

“...okay.” Havoc blinked. “Didn’t quite expect that.”

“Told you,” said Breda. “Creepy.”

“So, here’s what we know. They grew up in Resembool, but somehow Ed got swept up in the Ishvalan conflict. Their mother died at some point and we don’t know anything about their father. Their neighbors are automail mechanics and made his automail themselves. Al wears armor everywhere as part of his alchemy training, but here’s where things get weird.”

He paused for dramatic effect. His audience obediently leaned forwards, most of them caught between awe and a bit weirded out by this.

“Especially considering what we know about his family’s genetics from Edward, there is absolutely no way an eleven year old can fill that suit of armor. He’s definitely a child, so how is he controlling the armor?”

Havoc noted stick figures stuck onto the bulletin board. One portrayed Al as a sort of marionette artist controlling the armor from inside, while the other had a ghost hovering next to the armor. “So you think we’ve been talking to a dead boy this whole time?”

“It’s possible,” said Falman. “Why else would he wear armor?”

“Maybe he really is that tall,” suggested Fuery. “After all, the Armstrongs exist.”

“If there are more Armstrongs in this world I’m quitting the military. Anyways, there’s something very weird up with Alphonse and it’s a bit worrying. They’re both worrying. Did you see how scared Ed got when Fuery coughed the other day?”

“I was just getting over a cold but he was watching me the rest of the day,” muttered Fuery. “It was kinda sweet and kinda weird.”

Havoc had noticed that. He’d also noticed how Ed had days where a thick cloud of gloom hung about him and he could barely look anyone in the eyes and how Al would sometimes just sit there, staring into space, then frantically throw himself into some job or other. Something was seriously up with those kids.

A knock at the door sent Falman scrambling to stuff the bulletin board under the bed again. Everyone instantly straightened up, trying to act natural and succeeding only in looking like they’d been caught mid-conspiracy as the door opened to reveal Ed. He blinked, looking around at the group. “Uh. Falman, Colonel wants you.”

“Right. I’ll be right there.” 

Ed looked around the room again, confused. “What are you all doing in here, anyways?”

“Uh…” Fuery stammered, glancing around desperately.

“Camping!” blurted Havoc. “We were planning a camping trip.”

“Camping?” Al appeared behind Ed, practically beaming. “We love camping!”

“Yeah, Al, remember the time Teacher dropped us on that island for a month?” Ed sighed, smiling wistfully. “Good times.”

“...excuse me?” said Breda.

“Alchemy training.”

“Right,” said Falman. “Tell the Colonel I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Alright, but don’t blame me if he chews you out.” The boys retreated, leaving the men alone in the room once more.

“What the fuck?” whispered Havoc. “How fucking old were they?”

Falman wordlessly pulled out the bulletin board and added another pin.

“Fullmetal, so help me, I will tie you to the damn bed!”

Fuery’s head shot up, as did Falman’s. The walls in the dorms were thin, but even if they weren’t, it would’ve been hard to miss the shouting match that was happening two doors down.

“Think he needs help?” said Fuery.

“Fifty cenz says the kid wins this round,” said Falman.

“Dunno, he took a hard knock the other day with that rogue alchemist. You know how protective the Colonel gets. Seventy says we have to put Hayate on guard duty.”

“You’re on.”

They opened the door and peered out. The door to Ed’s room was open and Roy stood in the doorway, the usual look of anger, exasperation, and worry that came from dealing with Edward Elric on his face.

“I’m fine!” snapped Ed. “It’s just a concussion. I don’t see why everyone’s making such a big deal. I’ve had way worse and I’ve been fine.”

“Tell me that when you can stand without getting so dizzy you fall over again, throwing up, or both. You do realize what a concussion is, right? It’s also known as a mild traumatic brain injury. An injury to your brain. You barely have one as it is.”

“Go stand in the rain, you bastard. At least let me have some books.”

“Not. Until. The doctor. Says. You can. You need to rest your brain.”

“I don’t need rest! I’m fine!”

“Brother,” protested Al’s tired voice. “I think we should listen to the doctor. Besides, I can always read to you.”

“Everyone’s just overreacting. If I can deal with automail surgery I can deal with a little headache and some dizziness. ‘S not like I’m not used to it.”

Mustang pinched the bridge of his nose. “No books. No alchemy. No missions. That is final. If you disobey me, you’ll be on latrine duty for a month as soon as you’re medically cleared.”

“What else am I supposed to fucking do? Sit in bed all day and stare at the ceiling? This may surprise you, but most people like to actually be doing things instead of just sitting around twiddling their thumbs and flirting with anyone who looks at them.”

Fuery and Falman muffled snorts of laughter.

“Find a new hobby. Talk to your brother. Get Fuery to give you the radio talk. Think about how actions have consequences. I don’t care. Just stay put. Alphonse, watch him.”

“Yes, sir.” There was a clanking sound that probably meant the suit of armor was saluting him.

Mustang turned on his heel and stormed down the hall. He paused for a moment at the sight of Fuery and Falman, then jerked his thumb back towards the boys. “Keep an eye on them. Just in case he gets past Alphonse.”

“Yes, sir,” said Falman. “I’ll try and find some entertainment.”

Mustang was already gone, muttering something about pipsqueaks under his breath.

“Hundred cenz says we manage to keep him down a day,” said Fuery.

“You’re underestimating Ed. Six hours.”

“Bet.”

Riza Hawkeye had a sixth sense when it came to people she cared about being in danger, or simply doing something remarkably stupid. Roy had often wondered how she seemed to instinctively know when he was about to do something unadvisable and was reaching for her gun before he could even move. It kept buzzing at her today and she kept shooting glances at Roy, who appeared confused at her glares and didn’t seem to be planning anything for once in his life. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe she just hadn’t gotten enough sleep.

Maybe she should check on the Elrics.

It was quiet on the way to their dorm. Too quiet. Where was Ed’s constant complaining or Al’s creaky armor? Where was the laughter and the squabbles? What were they doing?

The second thing that got her attention was the smell. It was something between sweet and hospital disinfectant. Riza wrinkled her nose. That was definitely getting stronger the closer she got to Ed’s room. It was starting to make her head ache.

She was almost to Ed’s door before the room spun about like a carnival ride. Riza gasped, clutching the wall to remain upright. What the hell…?

Oh. Oh no. Ed’s door was cracked open, just enough for her to peer into the room. There were assorted bottles on the floor and the gleam of an automail hand. What the actual fuck had he managed to do?

“Lieutenant Hawkeye!”

Riza heard the thudding of armored feet as metal arms wrapped around her. “Alphonse! Your brother…”

“Are you alright? What about brother?”

“Get him out. Out of his room. Right now.” Riza finally managed to pull herself upright and stumbled out of the hallway. “I’m getting the Colonel.”

Roy jumped to his feet the moment Riza burst into his office. She looked frazzled. Riza looked frazzled. Something had happened and the usually calm, stoic Lieutenant Hawkeye was gasping for breath and looked downright terrified. He grabbed his gloves on instinct and began pulling them on. “What happened?”

“It’s Edward.”

Oh. Oh no. It had been three hours. How did he manage to do this in three hours? He was going to strangle that little punk. “What did he do.”

“Judging from the smell… chloroform.”

“What?”

The frantic clanking and creaking announced Al’s presence as he ran up to them, Ed’s small, pale form in his arms. “Got him! How do we fix the room?”

“Would somebody please explain what the hell is going on here?”

“Heyyyy, Colonel.” Ed looked in his direction, his eyes unfocused and words slurred. “Good news. I can make chloroform now!”

His eyes rolled back and he went limp in Al’s arms. 

Roy couldn’t wait until work was done for the day. He was going to get in his car, drive far enough out of the city that he wouldn’t disturb or concern anyone, and then just scream.

“So,” said Breda. “Cleaning chemicals are banned now.”

Fuery nodded. They were seated around their usual table at their bar, surrounded by dishes, cards, and empty drink glasses. “Apparently he sent Al off to get something and then decided to do some chemistry. We still don’t know where he got everything.”

“Everyone steer clear of the Colonel for a few days,” said Falman. “I actually thought he was about to murder the kid. He’s pissed.”

“Sixty cenz says he keeps Ed down for a day this time,” said Havoc.

“Eighty says he gives up and just ties him to the bed like he threatened to,” said Breda.

“You’re on.”

Chapter 4

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Heymans Breda felt like shit. Absolute shit. He was feverish and nauseous and his head throbbed whenever he sat up. Havoc had taken one look at him that morning, then retrieved the flu medicine from the box of goodies under his bed and handed it to him.

“Get me sick and I’ll kill you,” he said.

“You can try,” scoffed Breda.

He’d resigned himself to a day of boredom and misery when he heard the patter of small feet in the hallway. Then Ed was peeking into the room. He was dressed in only shorts and a tank top and looked so much younger than usual as he clung to the door handle, a large book tucked under one arm. “Hey. Heard you’re sick.”

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?” Breda propped himself up on one elbow, wincing. “You’re still getting over that concussion.”

Ed responded by sitting cross-legged on Havoc’s bed, wiggling as he pulled the blanket onto his lap and wrinkling his nose at the smell of cigarette smoke, then pulled out the book and set it in his lap. “Thought I’d keep you company.”

“It’s a nice thought, but I don’t want to get you sick. You should go back to your room.”

Ed ignored him, already lost in the book.

“C’mon, kid. Flu’s nasty.”

Ed tensed slightly. “I won’t get it. I never get sick.”

Well, that was a goddamn lie. He’d caught a cold his first week in East City and kept coming down with minor bugs. Between his small size, the automail, and the constant running around and stress, his body was under a lot of strain and his immune system wasn’t the greatest. Breda frowned, taking a moment to study the boy. Ed’s shoulders were tenser than usual and he was almost hunched in on himself, his brow furrowed and his mouth moving faintly as he studied the text. His knuckles were white on the edge of the book and he was intensely focused on it.

Translation: please don’t leave me alone. Something’s bothering me and I don’t want to be alone with it.

Breda sighed. If Ed got the flu from him, Mustang would never let him hear the end of it. “Where’s Al?”

“With Fuery. They went to the animal shelter.” Ed gave a small, faint smile. “Apparently the cats there love him.”

“Huh. Sounds like heaven for those two. How’re you feeling, kid?”

Ed flinched, his eyes going wide for a moment before narrowing in concentration again. “I’m fine. Ready to get up. Dunno why everyone keeps making such a fuss.”

“Maybe because you thought it was a good idea to scare the shit out of everyone by transmuting chloroform. Seriously, the hell were you thinking?”

Ed shrugged. “I wanted to see what would happen.”

“You’re a genius alchemist and you don’t know that mixing bleach and rubbing alcohol makes chloroform?”

“I do now.”

“Unbelievable.”

Something was still eating at the kid. He was more relaxed now, but something was clearly bugging him. Breda sighed, bracing himself and then slowly sitting up. Whatever it was could wait until after he’d gone to get some water. He was absolutely parched.

Fuck, that made his head hurt. He held still for a moment as his vision swam.

“Breda?” Ed was frowning at him. “You okay? You just went real pale.”

“I’m alright,” he grunted.

“You should lay back down.”

“I will in a minute.” He took a deep breath and hauled himself to his feet, then hissed and clutched at his head with one hand. It felt like it was about to split open.

“Breda!” There was a terrified wobble in Ed’s voice now as he jumped off of the bed, rushing over to him. He never made it all the way there.

One second Breda was up and the next he was down, his head cracking painfully against the wooden floor. The last thing he heard was Ed frantically screaming his name.

Shit shit shit shit shit shit shit.

Breda was down. He was standing there, looking like he was about to be sick, and then he was lying on the floor. Ed stared down at him, clutching his mouth with one hand while the other wrapped around his elbow.

Mom, lying on the floor, surrounded by the apples she’d been carrying in. Mom, lying in bed for months on end, wasting away before his eyes. Mom, collapsing if she stood for more than five minutes at a time.

Mom, smiling at him with hollow cheeks and sunken eyes. The last time he’d seen her before she was lowered into the ground. 

He was going to be sick. No. Shit. No. This couldn’t be happening. It was just the flu. It wasn’t whatever Mom had. People got the flu all the time.

…People died from the flu sometimes.

Ed ran for the door and flung it open, then darted down the hall. He had to get help. Someone had to fix this. He couldn’t do this again. Not again. He had to get Hawkeye or Falman or someone to-

“Fullmetal!” 

Gloved hands were grabbing him by the shoulders, steadying him. Ed gripped the arms, trying to stay upright and stop the room from spinning. Fuck, he was going to be sick.

“Fullmetal, what are you doing up?”

“Help!” he finally gasped. “Breda… Breda just…”

He couldn’t finish the sentence. Ed clutched at his stomach, nearly doubling over.

“Hey, easy there, chief.” Someone was kneeling down, hands on his shoulders, gently rubbing his flesh one. He caught a whiff of cigarette smoke. “Deep breaths. In and out, that’s it. Now, can you tell us what’s going on?”

“Breda passed out,” he finally managed.

“Fuck,” muttered Havoc. “He looked like shit this morning. Sir, can you…”

“On it. Deal with him.” Mustang’s footsteps marched down the hall.

“Ed, you with me?” Havoc was rubbing his shoulder again, one hand brushing the hair from his eyes.

He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

“Breda’s gonna be alright. I promise.”

“Better fucking be,” Ed muttered. If he wasn’t, then he was going to kick the shit out of him. He hated feeling this scared and helpless and if Breda wasn’t alright…

“He will be,” Havoc insisted. “How’re you feeling?”

“‘M fine. Just a bit dizzy.” It was a lie. He was a lot dizzy and still felt like he might throw up.

“Let’s get you back to your room, alright?”

“No. I gotta see him.”

“Alright.” Havoc straightened, one arm still wrapped around Ed’s shoulders. “Let’s go.”

Someone was tapping his cheek. Breda groaned faintly, trying to swat the person off. “Fuck off, Havoc. Don’t care who dumped you.”

“Lieutenant Breda. Lieutenant, can you hear me?” Mustang’s usually cold voice was laced with concern. Breda groaned again, peeling his eyes open. He was on his bed, propped up by pillows. Mustang was sitting on the edge of it, studying him with worried dark eyes. Havoc stood closer to the foot, frowning at him as he chewed an unlit cigarette. One of his arms was wrapped around Ed’s shoulders.

“Heya, sir. What’s going on?”

“You fainted,” said Havoc. “Fever’s a lot higher than we realized.” His arm tightened around Ed and Breda frowned, taking in the boy’s appearance for the first time. Ed was white as a sheet and shivering slightly, his golden eyes staring vacantly into the distance.

“How’re you feeling now?” asked Mustang.

Breda took a second to think about that. “Fucking awful.”

“Language.” Mustang gave him a small smile as Havoc let out a dramatic gasp and covered Ed’s ears. Ed snapped out of his stupor, hissing and swatting Havoc away.

“Fuck you,” he grunted, scowling and crossing his arms.

“Awfully big language for a little squirt like you.”

“Who the fuck are you calling a half-pint little bean sprout?” The rant didn’t have it’s usual fire to it. Ed just gave Havoc a brief glare, then turned to stare at Breda.

“You’re on bedrest until further notice, Lieutenant,” said Mustang. “The rest of the men will bring you whatever you need. If I find out you so much as left to take a piss without someone making sure you’re not going to repeat that episode, you’re on mine duty.”

Breda rolled his eyes, failing to hide a smile at Mustang’s concern. “Yes, sir. Understood, sir.”

“Rest up.” Mustang patted his shoulder, then left the room. 

Ed was still staring at him. It was starting to get disconcerting. Breda sighed, returning his gaze. “Kid. You okay?”

Ed scoffed. “I should be asking you that.”

“I’m alright. Just a bit sick.”

“You’re sure?” Ed’s golden eyes studied him intently. 

“I’m sure. Some rest and meds and I’ll be right as rain.”

Ed reached out hesitantly, then wrapped his arms around him. Breda froze in surprise, then slowly returned the hug. Ed never initiated physical contact. He really was shaken up.

“Scare me like that again and I’ll fucking kill you, you got that?” the kid muttered.

Breda stifled a laugh, resting one hand in his hair. “I won’t do it again.”

“I couldn’t… you can’t be like Mom. So don’t. Okay?”

Havoc and Breda’s eyes met as understanding dawned.

Their mother had died. Mustang had said she’d gotten sick. No wonder Ed had flipped out.

“Hey,” said Breda, tightening his grip on him. “I ain’t going nowhere. Promise.”

Ed sniffed in response, curling into Breda’s side. Havoc pulled the blanket up to cover them both and sat next to them, one hand on Ed’s shoulder.

“‘M only doing this so you can’t get up again,” Ed muttered. “‘S called the sleeping cat rule. Al used to do it to me back before… well, uh, before. You can’t get up if there’s a sleeping cat or person on you.”

“Sure, kid. And the fact that you’re worried has nothing to do with it.”

“Shut up, you asshole.”

Havoc eventually joined them, all concerns about getting sick forgotten. Breda finally fell asleep, Havoc’s face pressed into his shoulder and Ed wrapped in his arms, snoring slightly against his chest.

Damn kid. It was impossible not to get attached to him.

Notes:

if there is one thing I need more of in my life it's Team Mustang cuddle piles.
anyways, Ed is a remarkably fucked up kid and this is one trauma that I haven't seen touched on a lot. so this happened

Chapter 5

Notes:

It's trans Ed time! Warnings for discussions of menstruation in the second half of the chapter.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

It had been a few weeks ago that it had started.

“Major Sergeant Fuery. A word.”

Fuery stopped and whirled around at his superior’s voice, trying to read Mustang’s expression. He was brooding. Wonderful. That could mean anything from someone had done something wrong to Edward Elric to Hawkeye had made him actually do his work again. Hopefully whatever had gone wrong had nothing to do with him. “Sir?”

“Privately.” Mustang strode towards his office and Fuery scrambled to keep up, drumming his fingers against his thigh. Please don’t be mad please don’t be mad…

“Is there a problem, sir?” He asked as soon as they were inside.

Mustang’s entire demeanor changed in an instant. He slumped against his desk with a look of pure exhaustion, running a hand down his face. “You volunteer at the animal shelter sometimes, right?”

Fuery blinked. That wasn’t where he’d expected this to go. “Uh, yeah. On my days off. Why?”

“Would you mind taking Alphonse with you sometime? He’s expressed an interest in animals.”

“Oh, uh, sure! I’d love that.” Al was a sweet kid. A bit shy sometimes, but he seemed to have warmed up to Fuery. Most of the team had bonded with the Elrics, but Fuery really had a soft spot for those kids. They were the only people who were willing to listen to him ramble about radios. Besides that, they were good kids. Deeply concerning in ways that made him want to wrap them up and keep them safe forever, but good kids.

“Thank you. I appreciate that.”

Mustang was worried. He’d gotten into the habit of hiding his emotions and only really opened up to Hawkeye, but the team had gotten pretty good at reading him. He cared deeply about everyone. He came off as closed-off and standoffish at first because if people knew just how much he cared, it could easily be used against him. Once you got to know him, though, it was obvious. Fuery had seen terrifying rampages from the man when someone dared hurt one of his team members.

The Elrics had definitely been added to the people Mustang was trying to protect. It was pretty few in number and the other reason he tended to be emotionally closed off. If he wasn’t, he would break from trying to protect everyone he came across. He’d heard stories from Hughes about how the man had acted in Ishval. And now something, probably about Alphonse, was worrying him. He didn’t know what he could do, but he’d try to help.

“Was there anything else you needed, sir?” asked Fuery.

Mustang took a deep breath, steeling himself for something. “At your time working at the shelter… you’ve learned about cats, right?”

“Yes?” This was also not where he’d expected this to go.

“Suppose… suppose a friend of mine had adopted a kitten and it keeps escaping, getting into places it shouldn’t, and chewing on things.”

“Sir, did you… adopt a cat?”

“No. I said it was my friend.”

“...alright. Well, I’d tell your friend to just shore up the enclosure as much as they can and make sure they have plenty of toys for the kitten. Spend time with it and play with it so they figure out what it likes. Make sure it has places to hide in its enclosure.”

“Thank you. I’ll tell my friend that. You’re dismissed.”

That… had to be the weirdest conversation he’d ever had with the Colonel.

And now, a couple weeks later, the animal shelter had become a routine. Al always lit up when he suggested it and hurried along after him, excitedly talking about the cats and which ones had done what last time and who would be the happiest to see him. He said he didn’t have favorites but Fuery always saw him paying more attention to the odd ones. The ones who were unusually skinny or scared or injured or scarred. They hissed and shied away from most people, but he was usually able to coax them out. Usually on animal shelter days he was humming to himself as he returned, a spring in his step. Today, though, his head was held low and his red eyes dimmed.

“Alphonse?” said Fuery. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah!” said Alphonse, far too cheerfully.

“Hey.” Fuery put a hand on his arm. He didn’t seem to notice. “You can talk to me.”

“I just…” Al sighed, something suspiciously like tears in his voice. “I wish I could feel them.”

“Your training won’t let you take off your armor to pet the cats?”

Al’s voice was quivering now. “No.”

Fuery winced, mentally kicking himself. “I’m sorry.”

“I want to feel the cats. I want to feel them and feel the wind and smell the flowers and braid Ed’s hair and taste foo- uh, I mean- I want to eat the things I used to be able to eat.”

Fuery took some mental notes for Falman’s conspiracy board. “That sounds tough.”

Al sniffed, reflexively wiping at his eyes. “I just wanna hug Ed and feel it.”

Uh. Cool. Crying child. Crying armor child. He was good with kids. He could handle this.

Kids were not usually Alphonse.

“You know,” said Fuery. “I don’t always like being touched.”

Alphonse looked over at him, surprised at the topic change.

“It’s hard, because sometimes I want some form of affection but I feel like I’ll scream if anyone touches me. So my parents found other things for me instead. Like tapping on things three times to show you love them. And I knew what it meant and it gave me that same warm feeling as a hug.” He smiled softly, rapping three times on Alphonse’s armor. “I know it’s not the same, but…”

Al sat down against the wall of a building and burst into tears, hiding his face in his hands. Fuery sat next to him, one hand on his.

It was a few minutes before Alphonse looked up and spoke in a watery voice. “Thank you.”

“Of course. I’m glad it helped.”

“Mr. Fuery?”

Fuery winced slightly. He’d never gotten used to that. Major Sergeant Fuery, sure, he’d earned that one, but Mr.? He was just 23! He wasn’t a Mr. “It’s just Fuery.”

“Oh. Uh… Fuery?”

“Yeah?”

“Can I still come with you to see the cats?”

“Of course.”

There was a bulletin board in the office that was slowly getting filled up with pictures. One was of Roy, grumpily peeling vegetables. One was of Falman and Breda, drunk and sound asleep on top of each other. One was of Ed, asleep in a chair with his tummy exposed. A new picture joined them that day. It was Alphonse, all but invisible under the pile of cats climbing all over him.

Someone was in the Colonel’s office.

Riza cocked her gun. No one was supposed to be in here. The Colonel was out for the rest of the day. She’d just come in to see if he’d ever finished that paperwork and check on the supply of spare gloves. But she could definitely hear the faint sound of breathing from somewhere in the room. “Who’s in here? Come out now, with your hands up.”

There was no response aside from a miserable sniffle. Riza frowned, lowering her gun. She knew that sniffle. “Edward?”

No response. She walked further into the room and spotted the child. He was under Roy’s desk, of all places. Curled up in a tight ball with his eyes squeezed shut, head pressed against the wood.

“Edward?” She knelt next to him, masking her alarm behind her usual firm tone. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”

Edward turned towards her just long enough to hiss like a stray cat before turning back to the wall.

“I need you to answer me. Are you hurt?”

“‘M fine,” came the muffled response.

“Are you sick?”

“No. G’way.”

“Come on.” She sat down on the floor, one hand hovering near his shoulder. “I need to know what’s wrong so I can help you.”

“Told you to go away.

She sighed. The reason Roy and Ed bickered so much was because deep down they were alarmingly alike. If she could deal with Roy, hopefully she could get through to a sullen twelve year old. “Look. You can suffer through it alone and put yourself through unnecessary pain, or you can talk to me about it and get some help. Either way, I’m here.”

He slowly turned to look at her, fear shining in his eyes. “Promise you won’t tell anyone?”

“Not unless it’s something that will put you or others at risk.”

He took a deep breath, his arms wrapping tighter around his middle. “I’m trans, Hawkeye.”

“Yes, I know that-” her eyes widened, comprehension dawning. “Oh.” 

He nodded miserably.

“Is this your first one?”

Another nod.

“I’m sorry. Is it the cramps?”

“Stomach hurts ‘n so does my back.”

“Those are common symptoms. Scale from one to ten?”

His brow scrunched in thought. “...three or four? I think?”

“Alright.  I’m going to get you some pain medicine and a hot water bottle. It’ll help. Are you hungry at all?”

He shook his head.

“Some people like sweet things like chocolate. Others have more trouble eating. Do you have the supplies you need?”

A nod.

“Good. I’ll let you stay in here. You can move out from under the desk if you like.”

“Mm-mm. Like it here.”

“Alright.”

“Hawkeye?” Ed gripped the sleeves of his coat, looking away from her. “Does it get better as it goes on?”

“Your symptoms might adjust as your cycle does. It’s likely going to be irregular for a few years and then settle into a rhythm. If you can, try and keep a notebook and keep track of when it happens. It’s good for doctors to know.”

He made a face.

“I know. Unfortunately it can be necessary.”

“How… how do you deal with it?”

“Pain medication. I also make sure to eat, stay hydrated, and stay clean.”

“Alright.” He nodded thoughtfully.

“Edward, I want you to let me know if you’re having severe pain or bleeding. Alright?”

“How severe is severe?”

“Pain above a six and if you find yourself having to change pads or tampons every few hours. Don’t be afraid to talk to me about any of this, no matter how embarrassing. I’ve been through it all.”

“Fine.” He curled in on himself again, looking intently at the floor. “Does Colonel Bas- the Colonel have to know?”

“No. No one does.”

“Good. Don’t want ‘em to.”

“Edward?”

He slowly looked up at her again.

“There’s a lot of things out there about how your first period makes you a woman. You’re not one.”

He almost smiled, a bit of the tension draining out of him.

“And everyone on this team will have words with anyone who says differently.”

“So will Al,” murmured Ed. “He bit someone over it when he was a kid.”

She smiled softly. “We’re glad to have you boys here, you know.”

“Sure.”

“Really. We are.” She squeezed his shoulder. “Get some rest and tell me if you need anything. I’ll be right back with a hot water bottle and pain medication.”

He gave her a hint of a smile, settling himself more comfortably under the desk. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Nonsense. I want to.”

It’s enough that you were dragged into this in the first place. Dealing with your first period is hard enough under normal circumstances, let alone the military.

“You’re all weird.”

“Then you’ll fit right in.” She smiled at him and slipped out the door.

Notes:

Things that fanfic has you googling at 1:30 AM: the history of various period products and when they started being used before deciding to say fuck it and combine 1930s technology with 1910s and say that tampons exist so that you don't have to get into the details of internal sanitary napkins or pad belts and figure out how those work. I've had this chapter in my head for a while and I'm happy I was finally able to write it.
Also I couldn't resist Fuery, Alphonse, and cats after I brought it up last chapter. And you got a sort of update on Roy's cat! Hopefully I'll find an excuse for the boys to see it soon.

Chapter 6

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

“OW! MOTHERFUCKER! SON OF A BITCH!”

Roy’s head snapped up at the sounds of pain coming from the next room. That was unmistakably Fullmetal’s foul mouth. The fact that he was cursing about it probably meant that he wasn’t badly hurt, but you never could tell with him.

“Fullmetal?” he called. “What did you do this time?”

“Motherfucking cunt shit sack-”

Roy groaned, slamming open his office door. “We’ve talked about using that kind of language in- what the fuck.”

Ed was standing in the middle of the office, covered in blood. His shirt and jacket were torn open and an open wound on his side was dripping onto the floor. He scowled as Roy came in, holding up a finger with a miniscule cut on it. “Your papers gave me a fucking paper cut!”

Roy just stared at him, slack-jawed. “Fullmetal, you’re bleeding out.

“Huh?” He looked down at the wound, seeming to notice it for the first time. “Oh yeah, forgot about that. Anyways your papers should be classified as weapons why are they so fucking sharp this is ridiculous.”

The boy swayed dangerously and Roy hurried to his side, firmly pushing him into a chair and pressing the remains of his jacket to the wound. “Stay there.”

“It’s fine, I’ve lost way more blood before.”

“That- you don’t- no.” He grabbed the first aid kit from off of the shelf and pressed a handful bandages to the wound. “Hold still, ” he ordered as the boy tried to squirm away.

“That fucking hurts, bastard!”

“Of course it hurts, genius, I’m putting pressure on the wound so you don’t fucking die.” Honestly, what was with this kid?

“Do you have to push so hard?”

“Yes!” 

The door opened and Havoc strode in, cigarette dangling from his lip. “Morning, Col- woah Ed, what happened?”

“It’s fine! Colonel’s just making a fuss! Also my finger fucking hurts.”

“You’re bleeding! That’s not fine!”

“Havoc,” said Roy weakly. “Please tell Hawkeye to get the car so we can take him the hospital.”

“I don’t need the hospital for a paper cut!”

“For your side!” snapped Roy. “Fullmetal, I am going to kill you if this doesn’t.”

“Pfffft.” Ed waved his hand dismissively. “God already tried and it didn’t work.”

“...cool, I’ll go get Hawkeye.” Havoc sprinted off down the hall, leaving Roy alone with the little menace.

“Why are you making such a fuss?” Ed looked over at him.

Roy was two seconds away from crying. “Because you’re severely injured? I’m allowed to be worried when one of my men shows up covered in his own blood.” 

“Trust me. ‘S been worse.”

“That’s not as reassuring as you think it is.”

“Just get some thread and I’ll be fine. You can sew, right? I mean, your gloves. Did you sew your gloves?”

“I don’t know if your rambling is a good sign or a bad sign.”

Hawkeye hurried into the room, extra bandages in hand. “Car’s started and Havoc’s informing Alphonse. Let’s go.”

“No, don’t tell Al on me,” protested Ed. “It’s fine, really.”

Riza just gave him a look and he went quiet. One day Roy would really have to learn that trick. “Has the bleeding stopped enough to move him?”

Roy moved the soaked bandages, sighing in relief as no more blood appeared to be seeping out of the wound. “Looks like it.”

She nudged him aside and bandaged the wound, then gestured for Roy to take his arms as he grabbed his legs.

“I can walk,” protested Ed.

“No!” the adults chorused.

As they bundled Ed into the car they distantly heard a tinny shriek of “He did what?”

“Aw, man,” muttered Ed. “Al’s gonna kill me.”

Sometimes, Alphonse wondered how his brother was alive. Okay, frequently he wondered how his brother was alive. He kept doing stuff like this and they didn’t even know how he’d got stabbed and as much as he wanted to Al couldn’t be around him every moment of the day and just- how? How was he supposed to protect him when this kept happening? He was the indestructible one, not Ed!

He stared down at his brother’s pale form in the hospital bed. They’d had to give him stitches and a transfusion and he’d finally fallen asleep, lulled by the pain meds. Al felt a phantom sob creep into his throat. How many times could he keep going like this until it caught up with him?

“Hey, kid.” He didn’t feel Havoc’s hand falling on his arm but he heard it. “You alright?”

“What am I going to do with him?” sighed Al. “He’s stupid and reckless and he never thinks and-”

Havoc nodded, following Al’s gaze. He bent and smoothed a strand of hair out of Ed’s face, smiling when the boy murmured and moved towards his hand. “Your brother’s tough. But even the tough wear out.”

“I just- I need him to ask for help on this stuff and stop just running off and doing things and leaving me out of it because he feels guilty about-” he cut himself off before he could finish the sentence, eyes landing on Ed’s automail arm. How could he keep feeling guilty about Al’s body when he’d given an entire arm to try and get him back?

“Talk to him about it,” said Havoc. “After he wakes up. Ed’s got this idea that he’s got to be the toughest and not rely on anyone. It’ll take time, but it’s something we can work on. And the best way to do that is to show him that we can be relied on.”

“He scared me so much,” whispered Al.

“I know, kid. He scared all of us. The Colonel looked like he was about to faint when I came in.”

“He scared me so much and I’m so worried and I’m so mad at him because he won’t stop pulling this!”

Havoc knocked three times on his armor and the sound nearly brought Alphonse to tears. He shuddered for a moment, waiting for his breathing to steady.

He hadn’t been this angry at Ed since… well, had he ever been this angry? He’d done whatever this was alone and Al hadn’t been there and he could’ve died and that was just unacceptable. Talking wasn’t enough. Brother needed to be taught a lesson.

“Havoc?” said Al.

“Yeah?”

“I think… I wanna get revenge. For him scaring me.”

A slow grin lit Havoc’s face. “You’re speaking my language.”

Notes:

Poor Roy is going to have so many grey hairs from these two