Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Descent ❯ Playing Doctor ( Chapter 8 )

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Descent

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Chapter Eight

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Playing Doctor

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“Ouch! That fucking hurts you know!” Ed yelled as Roy pulled another shard of glass out of the boy's hand.

 

Roy smiled benignly at his young patent; the alcohol he'd consumed earlier helping him feel more than relaxed. “Well, perhaps you should have thought about that before you attacked the mirror.” He replied as he placed the shard into a bowl. They'd need the pieces to transmute the mirror back together. Or rather, Ed would need the shard when he fixed the mirror.

 

“Your bedside manner stinks Colonel….” The blond mumbled.

 

Roy raised an eyebrow and let a crooked smile creep onto his face. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered, again, if he had drank too much. He looked down at Ed's hand, which he held in one of his. The skin was shredded around the knuckles. He'd plucked out most of the stray pieces of mirror that had gotten into the wound.

 

Tenderly, Roy moved his other hand to lightly caress Ed's fingers. “Well, Edward…” He said softly. “I suppose that's true, but I'm much better in bed than beside it.”

 

`Roy Mustang, you are making a total ass out of yourself.' His mind told him in the voice of Maes Hughes. This thought, however, didn't make it past the haze in his brain to connect with any part of his mind that cared.

 

When he looked up, Ed's eyes were wide and his face was an impressive shade of pink. When their eyes met, the younger alchemist turned his head to face the wall.

 

Roy's smile broadened and he turned back to inspecting the cuts. He found two more pieces of glass, but when he pulled them out Ed didn't make a sound. The silence didn't last as he poured disinfectant on the wound.

 

When Ed made a sharp hissing sound, Roy looked up and watched as the teen squeezed his eyes shut against the stinging. When the blond finally opened his eyes, he glared at his makeshift doctor and yelled, “You're enjoying this aren't you, you bastard?”

 

Instead of answering, the Colonel reached into the small first aid kit and pulled out the bandaging. Yes, I am enjoying this... Enjoying the chance to feel your skin under my fingers... I'd love to feel more than your hand though...

 

He looked up at Ed's face for a moment and wondered what his subordinate thought about him. The teen had seemed to take comfort in his embrace last night, and that morning he'd looked like he wanted more of that comfort…

 

Roy began to slowly wrap the bandage around the small wounded hand as he thought.

 

Was it just comfort in general that Ed sought, or was it comfort from him? Roy shook his head. He really was conceited… Ed had never shown any inclination that he cared for him like that.

 

He frowned at the bandage as he tried to put his thoughts together.

 

It seemed that perhaps Ed just needed comfort, and Roy was just in the right place at the right time… Not that he minded, he was more than happy to comfort the blond, but he wondered if the teen would take any kind of comfort that came his way…

 

He felt his breath quicken as he thought about the possibilities. Ed was young and inexperienced, as well as in need of solace… would it be his fault if they just happened to share a few close nights together? It would be good for him to experience different things…

 

Yes it would be your fault. You're older, wiser. You know better. Maes' voice, the voice of reason, told him. Think of your career! Are you willing to risk your career on a night or two of pleasure? Besides, Ed is too young for you. Roy firmly pushed the voice way. Ed wasn't too young for him at all!

 

Well… maybe a little… Roy thought vaguely, as if his brain was trying to claw its way through the numb stupor and remind him of some of the reasons he hadn't made a move on the young blond already.

 

Finishing with the bandage, Roy let go of Ed's hand and said, “Better?”

 

Ed held up the hand and examined it closely before answering. “Yeah, I guess it will do until someone with real medical skill can do something with it.”

 

“Good.” Roy said, handing him the bowl of shards. “Now go fix the mirror.”

 

;-;-;-;-;-;-;

 

Ed stepped into the bathroom and looked around before dumping the glass pieces Mustang had plucked from his hand onto the floor. Setting the bowl near the sink, Ed lifted his bandaged hand and looked at it.

 

`Well, Edward... I suppose that's true, but I'm much better in bed than beside it'

 

He felt himself flush again. Could Mustang know about his attraction to him? Ed didn't think so, but… He moved his automail hand to touch his fingers where the dark haired man had, then held both hands up; examining them side by side.

 

In disgust, he dropped his arms. No. If the Colonel knew, if he even suspected, he'd probably throw Ed out on the street… and… and… and even if he did know… if he did know, then Ed could only assume that womanizing bastard was teasing him with that remark; dangling a carrot he'd never get, out in front of his nose.

 

After all, no one could possibly find his body, ruined as it was with the automail, attractive. No one could find someone who beat up their own younger brother worth caring about…

 

At the thought of Al, Ed felt the sick feeling in his stomach return. I'm such a horrible older brother... Ed thought. First, it's my fault Al loses his body; then when he gets it back I... I... He tried to push the thoughts and the pain away; tried to concentrate on what he was about to do.

 

Slapping his hands roughly together, Ed made the circle that would allow his transmutation, then held his hands out, touching the broken mirror. In moments the glass looked as it had before its unfortunate meeting with Ed's fist.

 

When he stepped back to look at his work, wood crunched under his automail foot. Ed turned and looked down at the mess Mustang had made. It would take Ed less than thirty seconds to fix the door, while it would probably take the dark eyed man close to ten minutes since he would need to sweep all the wood and ashes into a pile then draw the transmutation circle.

 

A nice person would save the other man the trouble… but then, Edward Elric wasn't feeling particularly nice at the moment.

 

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Al woke up slowly, first becoming aware of the soft pitter-patter of the raindrops on the window, then of the breathing of another person. Alarmed, he quickly opened his eyes and reflexively tried to sit up.

 

“No don't!” A female voice said anxiously.

 

Even without the warning, the pain would have stopped his hurried movements anyway. Lying back down, Al let his eyes settle on the owner of the voice, then smiled.

 

“I'd ask if I was dead, but the pain assures me that I'm not.”

 

Winry folded her arms and shook her head. “What makes you say something like that?”

 

Sighing as he looked at her, he said, “Because… you're so beautiful… I thought you were an angel…”

 

He watched in amazement as she turned her head away; trying to hide a small smile and the fact that her cheeks were turning a delicate shade of red. He had only said it because it was exactly what he was thinking. He hadn't expected that kind of a reaction out of her. Truthfully, he felt slightly embarrassed at having said it out loud. If he hadn't just woke up, and had been thinking more clearly, most likely he wouldn't have said it at all. It just sort of slipped out…

 

But now that he had said it, and had seen that she seemed pleased with it, he'd have to say it again to her. He loved to see her smile, especially when it was because of something he had said or done.

 

“I was just checking up on you.” She said softly. Winry hooked some of her long blonde hair behind her ear and looked down. “What is all this?”

 

He made to sit up again, more slowly this time. When the blonde mechanic saw what he was doing, she hurried to his side, helping him. “Thanks.” He said sheepishly. He could sit up by himself, but why should he when he could get her to touch him while she helped?

 

Al looked around at the mess on the floor and winced. He hadn't meant to fall asleep, especially while everything was still scattered around. Truthfully he was surprised that she wasn't nagging at him to get it cleaned up. He supposed it was one of the perks of being injured.

 

“Well?” She said.

 

“Alchemy stuff.” He said simply.

 

“Well duh Alphonse! But what about those dolls over there. Where did they come from, and why are half of them all… all… ruined?”

 

“Well, I made the dolls, it just seemed better to use something that had a human type form after I came up with...” He cut off his words, shrugged and looked at his hands. The last arrays he had painted there were still visible so they'd probably still work. “Toss me a doll?” He asked her.

 

Wordlessly she picked up one of the whole dolls and tossed it over to him. Al lifted it off the bedspread and examined it, then looked up at her. “Just a doll; nothing special or unique about it.”

 

She nodded.

 

Al laid the non-descript doll down, looked at her again with a little boy grin, then clapped his hands together. Truthfully, it wasn't necessary that he clap his hands together, not with the circles drawn there, but Ed did it and Al, sometimes consciously, sometimes unconsciously, had always tried to be like the older brother he'd looked up to since he was little. Al put a hand on the doll and felt… something… drain from him; felt a piece of himself transfer over to the doll.

 

He watched the little doll get up and walk over to the edge of the bed, near Winry. The blonde was staring, wide-eyed at the doll. “What did you do?” She asked.

 

“Well, I thought if there was some sort of… I don't know… multiple purpose array, then I could, you know, paint it on some gloves or something and then I could be kinda like…” His voice trailed off.

 

“Be kinda like Ed?” She asked quietly.

 

He swallowed hard and nodded. It hurt to think of his older brother. The mood swings… the fights… he had been so difficult to be around. Al supposed he had thought that everything would just magically get better if he just let Ed be, but obviously it didn't. If only he could have known, if only he could have said something, or done something…

 

He felt so guilty…

 

No one knew his brother like he did. He should have known something was wrong, really wrong. He should have known!

 

“I understand Al.” Winry said sympathetically. “But… what does that have to do with those ruined dolls?”

 

Her question pulled him from his thoughts and he gave a small chuckle. “While I was testing out different arrays I stumbled upon something.” He pointed at the doll for effect.

 

Confusion filled Winry's eyes.

 

“It seems that my soul is easily detachable.(1)”

 

Comprehension dawned on her and she looked back down at the little doll, which was now waving cheerfully at her. “You mean… this doll..?”

 

“Has a small piece of my soul. The effect doesn't last all that long.”

 

He didn't know how to describe this loss and regaining of himself. When he did it, he was aware of things around him in a totally different way. If he concentrated he could see, and experience things from where his soul had transferred to, and yet he was still aware of himself in his own body. It was strange to be able to see things from two different perspectives at the same time.

 

“So that piece… it comes back to you?”

 

He nodded, another thing that was hard to describe. One minute his soul was partially with his body, partially with whatever he had transferred it to, then it was back, and he felt whole again.

 

“Does it hurt?” She asked quietly.

 

Al smiled and shook his head. “Not at all. It's kinda like putting your hand in a jar that has only air.”

 

She nodded, showing that she understood.

 

“As for the destroyed dolls, well... I'm trying to come up with the best array for transferring a soul that is still usable for other tasks. Those dolls are just unfortunate casualties.”

 

There was silence in the room while Al let her absorb what he'd said. He watched her as she frowned, lost in thought. Not wanting to see her sad, Al said, “So… what's for dinner, oh beautiful angel?”

 

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Ed looked down at Mustang and sighed. When he'd come back from fixing the mirror he had expected to see the man cleaning up the supplies from the medical kit. Instead, he'd found him asleep on the couch. That was almost six hours ago. How long was he going to sleep?

 

He shook his head and looked around. It was late and he wanted to get some rest, but the stupid Colonel was asleep on his couch.

 

Okay…

 

So it wasn't his couch.

 

But still…

 

Where was he supposed to sleep now? He sure as hell wasn't going to sleep on the floor. He eyed the carpet. Well, he could sleep on the floor. It was a lot better than where he'd been sleeping for the last week since he left Rizembool.

 

Where he'd slept before Mustang found him…

 

He looked again at his commanding officer. Ed had never seen him sleep before… He looked so… peaceful… laying there on the couch.

 

Mustang had picked him up and taken him to his own place. He could have just had Hawkeye take me over to the dorms... Ed thought.

 

Here was the man who had been the bane of Ed's existence for so many years, and yet after one stupid dream, all Ed could do was fantasize about him. He frowned. He'd never felt so attracted to anyone or thought about anyone else in the way that he'd thought about Roy Mustang. He couldn't say that he was `in love' with the man. Truthfully he didn't really like the guy at all!

 

He was a stupid, arrogant, bastard that couldn't stop trying to pull Ed around on strings like a puppet; a womanizing, boot licking, brown nosing, pyromaniac who thought he knew everything…

 

But then… Ed thought of the previous night when the dark haired man had held him tightly in his arms and whispered comforting words to him. He is letting me stay here for now...

 

His eyes wandered over the older man's body, then back to his face. Why you? Ed wondered silently. Why do I feel nervous around you? Why do I care what you think about me? Why do I get a fucking hard-on thinking about you? Why do I think about having you hold me and touch me and kiss me? Why don't I have these kinds of thought about me and Winry, or me and any other chick? Am I abnormal? Is there something... wrong... with me? Why can't I just forget about you?

 

Ed looked at the front door. Maybe I should just leave... just walk out that door and never return... He thought, but made no move to do so.

 

Ed's gaze returned to the sleeping man. He did look peaceful… and sexy as hell. The normally put together Colonel looked disheveled in his sweats and tee-shirt, stubble was beginning to show on his normally clean shaven face and his fine, black hair was messy and unkempt.

 

What he really wanted to do was reach out a hand and touch the man, but he didn't dare. What if he woke him? What excuse could he give?

 

No. He'd better just look…

 

But he'd been looking at the Colonel most of the day, when he hadn't been reading some of the books that had been lying around. It was late, and he was tired…

 

Suddenly, an idea came to him. He left the living room, turning off the light as he went and headed toward Mustang's room. The door had been closed all day, and Ed hadn't felt right about going in there, but now…

 

There's a perfectly good bed in there that isn't being used. His mind told him.

 

He bit the inside of his cheek as he tried to decide. To open the door, or not to open the door…

 

His fingers tapped lightly on the doorknob as he thought. He didn't want his commanding officer angry at him. Staying at Mustang's house was much more comfortable than being at the dorms, but even if the man did get angry with him for snooping around in his room and sleeping on his bed, did it really matter? He was going to resign from the military soon anyway, so it wasn't like he'd have to deal with the man for very long. And if the dark haired man kicked him out? Well, Ed could always stay in the dorms until he got his resignation paperwork done…

 

Curiosity, and the thought that he really didn't have that much to lose, prompted him to turn the knob and open the door. The room was dark, but a soft glow from the window lit the room to a point that Ed could see what was in there.

 

The bed, a queen size Ed guessed, was directly under the window. Two nightstands stood on each side. A telephone sat on one of the nightstands and right beside it lay Roy's silver pocket watch. Ed walked toward the nightstand and stared at the watch. Gingerly he picked it up and held it close to see it better in the dim light.

 

The silver was scratched in many places and there were a few dings in the raised military symbol on the front. Ed had seen the watch maybe once or twice, but he had never noticed. Perhaps it was because he had never seen it up close, and of course the scrapes and dents weren't all that noticeable, not unless you were really looking. But despite all that, the watch looked like it had been well cared for.

 

Ed turned it over in his hands a few times. He had an overwhelming urge to open it and look inside, but in the end he couldn't do it and set the watch back on the nightstand. Ed could remember how angry he had been when Winry had looked inside his watch without permission.(2) Of course, not everyone kept such personal things inside their watches, but still Ed thought it would be wrong.

 

There was a door next to the side of the bed where Ed was standing and he figured it must be the closet. Next to the closet were two large bookshelves. Ed walked toward them and scanned the titles. Almost all of them were alchemy books, although there were some that didn't have titles, so he couldn't tell what they were.

 

Curious, Ed pulled out an old looking book without a title, and opened it near the middle. The pages were filled with hand written scribbles, notes, and arrays. He flipped through more of the pages. Some of the arrays had been erased and redrawn many times; others had just been scribbled out. Much of it was guesswork; nonsense that would never work in a million years, but there were quite a few good ideas too. Not every alchemist could come up with their own arrays. It took a lot of time and effort, and most alchemists were happy with what was already available.

 

Ed let his eyes wander the bookcases and saw that there were quite a few unmarked books. The young alchemist was surprised that someone as lazy as Mustang seemed to be would take the time to try creating his own arrays.

 

Shutting the book, Ed put it back and moved on. On the wall the door was on, the wall parallel to the foot of the bed, there was a desk with mounds of papers on it. I guess he really does make himself at home while at work. He thought wryly, thinking of how messy the Colonel's desk could sometimes be.

 

Sitting on top of an open alchemy book was a pair of reading glasses. Ed picked them up and studied them. The ear pieces were a bronze color and they attached directly to the lenses. The lenses were connected by a curved piece of metal, but the glasses had no frames. Ed tried to envision Mustang with glasses on, but couldn't seem to get the picture in his head.

 

He laid the glasses back down. At the back of the desk sat a few picture frames. One was a group picture that had been taken when he had first joined the military. It had been right after Mustang had gotten transferred to East City. Ed could remember it clearly. Havoc had tried, and failed miserably, to get Ed into one of Fuery's military uniforms. As short as the Master Sergeant was, Ed, twelve at the time, had been much shorter and he had felt that wearing one of the smallest uniforms available, and not having it fit, would have been too embarrassing. In the photo, Breda, Havoc and Mustang all looked amused, while Hawkeye and Falman looked tolerant, and Fuery had looked harassed. Ed for his part just looked pissed off and sulky; mostly from having to tolerate so many short jokes that day.(3)

 

There was another picture, this one of Mustang and Hughes. Ed had seen the same one in Hughes's house. It was when the two of them had joined the military. Hughes had once said that they had grown up and had joined the military together. The next picture on Mustang's desk seemed to confirm it.

 

Ed picked up the last photo on the desk and peered at it. It was a picture of Mustang and Hughes when they were younger. The two boys in the picture looked to be about thirteen or fourteen. Mustang, the shorter of the two, was wearing a muted blue, button up shirt. He was looking at the camera as if he was uncomfortable, and he had a slight blush on his cheeks. The younger, and taller, Hughes was draped over the shorter boy with a big grin on his face. The shirt he wore was lime green and he had his hand held out to the camera, two fingers in the air.

 

Hughes... what a doofus... Ed thought fondly, before setting the frame back on the desk. He stood there, staring at the photo for a long time, fascinated by how the man who had dominated his fantasies looked when he was younger.

 

Finally he stepped away from the desk and walked to the wall on the other side of the bed. There were also two large bookcases on this side of the room as well; just as full with books as the other ones had been.

 

Ed turned around and stared at the bed. To say that the bed was made would be an overstatement. The covers had been pulled up, but that was all. He walked over and stood beside it. The blanket was a light grey and the sheets underneath were white. Ed tried to imagine the Colonel laying there asleep.

 

His heart beat faster thinking that he was going to sleep where Mustang usually slept. Ed climbed onto the bed on his hands and knees, feeling the fabric under his hand. Mustang slept and dreamt and probably jerked off in this bed.

 

The thought was arousing and Ed laid down on the bed on his stomach; letting his hardening arousal push against the mattress. The blanket smelled slightly of cologne and ethanol(4). He breathed in, letting the scent, Mustang's scent, fill him. He clenched the blanket in his fists and ground his hard-on into the bed; imagining that it was the Colonel under him.

 

His heavy breathing sounded loud in his ears, and tried to quiet it. He knew he would be out on the street in no time if Mustang woke up and found him this way.

 

In frustration Ed turned over on his back and laid an arm across his eyes. He was suddenly angry; angry with Mustang and angry with himself. Why was the man being so fucking nice? Why didn't he just have Hawkeye take him back to the dorms?

 

Why don't I just leave? Ed thought miserably.

 

He could leave. That was the surest way to keep Mustang from finding out about how Ed felt. He should leave. Leave, and get the paperwork done as quickly as possible. Then he'd be out of the military and away from the Colonel.

 

Then he could just forget…

 

That's what I'm going to do. He thought. I'm going to leave... But as much as he thought it, his body didn't move.

 

 

 

 

1) Obviously the idea is from the movie. They never expounded on how Al found out he could do such a thing, only that he could. I figured that even if this story takes a different route than the series, it's not unlikely that Al would have figured how to do this eventually.

 

2) Episode Seventeen

 

3) This scene is from my imagination, not from an actual picture I've seen. You'll notice Hughes isn't in the picture. That is because he's in Central, not in East City. The second picture is actually in the series and the third is also from my imagination.

 

4) Ethanol, also known as `ethyl alcohol' or `grain alcohol' is a flammable, colorless chemical compound, one of the alcohols that is most often found in alcoholic beverages. Generally it is jut referred to as alcohol. Ed, being a scientist (alchemy being part of the sciences) and having never drank before, would most likely think of the chemical in such a way and wouldn't instantly put it to the fact that it comes from something Mustang has been drinking. At least this is how I see it.

 

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Thanks to:

MasamuneReforged for being my beta.

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