Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Descent ❯ Politics ( Chapter 25 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

By: ZaKai

Descent

Chapter Twenty-Five

Politics

Ed stood, tapping his fingers on the bar counter while he waited for the busy bartender to finish making his and Mustang's drinks. The place was buzzing with activity and he supposed that's how it should be on a Saturday night; although, he had no way of knowing since this was his first time in such an establishment.

When a group of women left their stools and headed toward the door, Ed took one of them, laid his head on the cool polished counter and sighed. The day had been a long one as he and the colonel went from place to place, talking with people and getting information. Ed had been `lucky' enough to be Mustang's `errand boy' whenever he needed something or wanted something taken to somewhere.

Normally, the teen would object to being put in such a position, but today he didn't mind. Today, they were trying to get what information they could on Fuery's attackers. The day had been hard on both of them, and that's why Ed didn't complain when Mustang mentioned going to the bar to unwind.

“Hey soldier boy, why don't you get out of that stool and make way for someone more important than yourself!” a voice said snidely behind him.

Slowly, Ed sat up straight and looked behind him. Two smug looking soldiers in uniform, one a sergeant first class and the other a staff sergeant, and two women - their dates he presumed - stood behind him. They were chuckling and looking smugly at their dates.

He watched them irritably with tired eyes until they turned their gaze back to him, and when they saw his rank their smiles faded to looks of nervous apprehension. Ed let the sides of his mouth turn up in a smug grin of his own.

“What was that?” he asked arrogantly.

“Uh… nothing, um, sir…I…we didn't realize…”

Thoroughly enjoying their discomfort, Ed pulled out his pocket watch, turning it so that they would be sure to see the symbol on it, and checked the time. “Sure is taking him a long time to get the colonel and my drinks ready…” he muttered loud enough for them to hear that he was with an even higher ranking officer.

Suddenly, two glasses were set on the counter near him. “Sorry `bout the wait son. We're a bit short on help tonight.”

“No problem,” Ed said lightly to the frazzled looking barkeep. He picked up the glasses and slid off the stool. “Why don't you put these on their tab,” he said with a grin, inclining his head toward the two non-commissioned officers. “I mean, you don't mind paying for our drinks, right?” he asked and turned his head toward them.

The two men practically crawled all over themselves in their effort to assure him that of course they didn't mind at all, and that they really were sorry for the mix up and… Ed blocked out the babble and looked at their dates. He thought the women looked rather unimpressed with their choice of company for the night.

The teen nodded and as he began walking away. He thought that perhaps he'd gone a bit overboard, but he knew they'd made that snap judgment about him because of his size, and that was what really pissed him off…

As he approached the small table in the back corner, where Mustang was sitting, Ed slowed a bit and watched his commanding officer. The colonel was holding his open pocket watch in front of his face and gazing sadly at the inside.

When he was almost to the table, Ed stopped and stared at the man. Mustang just seemed so…sad and depressed… The blond thought about his own watch; the inside carrying an engraved reminder of his sin. Not for the first time, Ed wondered what, if anything, the colonel kept on the inside of his watch.

Suddenly Mustang caught sight of him and snapped the watch closed before putting it away, then beckoned Ed forward. The teen complied and placed the drinks on the table, then sat down with a heavy sigh.

Looking at the drinks, Ed said, “Which one is mine?”

Mustang had told him what to order for both of them since the teen really didn't know much about alcohol. The colonel had promised that Ed would like what he got.

“This one is yours,” Mustang said, gently pushing the ten ounce `rocks' glass toward him. “And this one is mine,” he said, taking the other glass.

Ed watched him take a sip, then asked, slightly amused, “Good?”

“You wouldn't like it,” Mustang answered, then gestured toward Ed's glass. “Try it.”

The blond shook his head. “Well at least the name fits you,” he said and watched the colonel's lips pull up into a small smile.

“Yes, well, I feel like a `Suffering Bastard' right now, especially having been working my ass off all day.”

Ed chuckled, then turned his attention to his own drink and examined it for a moment. The small old fashioned glass was rimmed with...he licked it…sugar. He smelled the contents and when he deemed it drinkable, Ed took a small sip.

His eyes widened slightly in surprise. “You're right, I do like this.”(2)

Mustang nodded knowingly.

“What's it called again?” the teen asked. He hadn't found many drinks he liked, and he certainly didn't want to forget the name of one he that he did.

“Amaretto Sour,” Mustang grunted.

The two of them fell silent for a time, taking sips of their drinks and thinking. When Ed pulled out a cigarette, the older alchemist blanched and said, “Do you really have to do that?”

The teen glared at him irritably and waved a hand to the smoky room. “Hello… I'm not the only one smoking here,” he said snidely, then muttered, “Stupid ass…” as he lit up. He knew the colonel wasn't too fond of him smoking, and it was beginning to become a sore source of contention between them. It wasn't uncommon for Mustang to ask him, or tell him, depending on his mood, to brush his teeth before he was willing to kiss him.

To Ed, it was the most fucked up thing in the world. Here was a man who let him cum in his mouth, actually seemed to like the taste, and yet this was too disgusting. He shook his head at the thought.

The teen had to admit it wasn't the best taste in the world, and he actually hadn't much liked it himself when he first tried it. But since then he'd switched brands to something he liked better. `Wussy smokes' as Havoc had dubbed them. Of course that didn't stop the man from begging one off of him here and there…

“Yes, well, I'm not going home with any of them, now am I?” Mustang said irritably and took another sip of his drink. Ed muttered something, and the colonel said, “Excuse me? Say that again…”

Sighing heavily, the teen said, “How about I quit smoking when you stop drinking.”

The older man glared at him and said, “That's completely different, Ed. I don'tstink after having a drink.”

“Oh, whatever!” Ed crowed. “Have you smelled your breath after some of the shit you drink? Or even the morning after? Fucking worse if you ask me, but of course you didn't ask me, now did you?”

With a look of pure frustration, Mustang opened his mouth to say something, then shook his head and looked away.

“What?” Ed asked defensively.

The dark haired man looked back at him and said calmly, though his voice was laced with anger, “I'm not going to fight with you about this tonight, Ed. We've both had a hard day and I understand that you need to let off some steam, but I'd appreciate it if you didn't take it out on me.”

The younger alchemist frowned and nodded. He hadn't realized it until Mustang had said it, but he was tired and stressed, and he did feel the need to get rid of some of that tension… Although it was slightly embarrassing when the colonel talked like that to him, so slow and calm… so very…mature…

Ed took a sip of his drink and scowled at that thought. It was something he hadn't learned to do, being calm and mature when he was upset or frustrated. Normally he just blew up, ranted or got even, like with those two soldiers…

That's how he wanted to be... He wanted to be able to defuse a situation with a calm manner, not add to it by getting riled up himself… Not that the colonel never got angry. No, Ed had definitely seen that happen many times before, but he did have the ability to keep calm if he tried.

“So, what do you make of all of this,” Ed said, trying to change the subject. “I mean, all this with Fuery…”

The colonel sat back in his chair and folded his arms before saying, “I think this was planned out by those `higher ups' that have connections with Kagegkuski. They caught on to what Fuery was doing, and were trying to let me know that they knew…” His voice trailed off and he took a sip of his drink.

Ed's eyes widened a bit. He hadn't thought of that… “Are you serious?” he asked in worried disbelief.

Mustang stared at him for a moment, his eyes searching Ed's, then he laughed and shook his head. “Of course not! I'm not that important. What are you thinking?”

The blond only stared at his commanding officer. The laugh was forced and so were the words. No… Mustang hadn't been joking, but now he was making it seem that way… but why? Why would he do that?

The colonel took a sip, then said, “I'm going to report that it was the work of some hoodlums. That seems to be what all the evidence points to.”

Ed frowned, took a drag and blew the smoke out of his nose in frustration. Nowhere in all that did the colonel say what he actually thought. He said what he'd report, and he said what some of the evidence seemed to point to… but not what he believed.

No… what Mustang said the first time was what he actually thought. The idea that Mustang was now trying to hide it from him made him angry. He was pretty sure that if he pressed it, not only would he not get any answers, but they'd also just end up getting into an argument.

For a few minutes they sat in silence, then Mustang waved a serving girl over. She was pretty and when she asked what she could do for them, she rested her hand lightly on the colonel's shoulder in a flirting fashion.

Jealously mixed with irritation as the colonel returned her flirty attitude as he ordered another drink. Ed's eyes followed the scantily dressed girl as she made her way across the room to the bar.

“I thought you said it would be faster if I just went up there and ordered,” Ed growled.

Mustang shrugged and picked up his glass. “I still have a bit left.”

The younger alchemist watched the colonel's eyes shift away from him, and Ed realized suddenly that Mustang was trying to avoid speaking to him… That's why he'd called the girl over instead of having him go…

Well fuck that…

When the server came back, Mustang pulled out his wallet to pay her, but Ed beat him to it. Thrusting the money in the girl's hand, he thanked her and said quickly that they'd call her over if they needed anything else. Which, of course, was a lie on his part; he had no intention of calling her back over…

“You paid for my drink?” the colonel asked in confusion.

Ed could understand the confusion. Since that night, he'd been none too happy about Mustang drinking, and hadn't been exactly quiet about it either.

He nodded and said, “Of course. You've had a hard day, and like you said, we're both tired.”

Of course that was also a lie. The money was actually what the colonel had given him to initially pay for their first drinks. That had been the intended purpose for the money, so Ed didn't exactly feel like he was contributing to Mustang's drinking habits. Plus it made him look like the good guy…

“Well, thanks,” the dark haired man said, much friendlier now.

Ed shrugged and said, “You know… I've been thinking…”

The colonel grinned and said, “I thought I smelled something burning.”

“Asshole,” Ed muttered before continuing. “You know this thing that's going on in the East… well… I've read some of the pronouncements Kagegkuski sent to the newspapers, and it doesn't sound all that bad. I mean, a government controlled by the people…” His voice trailed off when he saw the colonel shaking his head.

“You really are naïve, aren't you?” he said, and took a drink. Ed scowled and opened his mouth to retort, but the older man said, “Don't look at me like that. It's true, at least it is here.”

“What do you mean by that?” he growled angrily.

Sighing, Mustang leaned back in his chair, folded his arms and studied Ed with tired eyes. “A government controlled by the people, huh? What Kagegkuski is talking about is a pure democracy. Do you really think that type of a system could work?”

“Well…it might…”

Another shake of the head. “There is no way such a system would work…”

“Well, it could if…” Ed cut in, but Mustang over-road him.

“No, it wouldn't. Ed, for one thing, people are just too stupid to rule themselves. It would require a lot of working together, and people don't do that naturally. Also, not everyone is going to be interested in politics, so naturally only the people who actually care are going to have the say.”

“Isn't it kind of rude to say that they're stupid?”

Mustang unfolded his arms, leaned forward and took another sip before continuing. “Okay, maybe `stupid' was not the best word, but think about it this way, everyone is not going to have the same knowledge about what's going on. The common person might know a bit of what is happening in their area, but not everything. There also may be issues that are just too complicated for the average person. Besides that, most people would only give superficial attention to the details anyway, so they'd probably be easily swayed by what the more vocal people had to say.”

When Ed frowned, the colonel said, “Don't give me that look. You know it's true. There are still going to need to be laws, even in that type of a government, but not everyone is going to understand them all.”

He took another drink and said, “But those aren't the only problems. In a direct democracy, everyone votes on everything, or at least everyone who wants to vote. As I said before, some people just aren't going to care enough to worry about it.”

Mustang shook his head. “Okay, let's say that Kagegkuski wins and sets up his government. Then what? What if they need to vote on something? If everyone votes on it, how would you do that? Have all of Amestris come to Central, or the East if that's where they decide to set it up, and vote? Laws are made all the time. That would be pretty difficult, not to mention tedious. No. If a direct democracy is going to work, then it would need to be in a small area, a place with a small population.”

Ed took a sip of his drink and pondered what the colonel said for a moment. The colonel was right. He was pretty naïve about politics, but he made a mental note to rectify that as soon as possible.

“Kagegkuski doesn't seem like a stupid man. He must realize that his proposal for a direct democracy won't work…”

“Possibly,” Mustang said, noncommittally.

Ed tapped his fingers on the table as he thought. “What if the people from each region elected representatives to act as their proxies?”

“But wouldn't that just be giving power to a group of people? How would you know if they were really representing what you wanted them to? How would they be kept in line?”

“Well…what if other people were elected to be a kind of…central government, and then the representatives went there to make the laws and stuff…?”

“Ah… well that's different, Ed,” the colonel said with a grin. “So you're saying that instead of being `free', as Kagegkuski puts it, we'll just let the people choose their dictators?”

“Not…dictators...” Ed made a sound of exasperation. “There would have to be some sort of provision that the people could kick them out of office or something…”

“But, if those who are elected can be taken out of office, then what power do they really have?” Mustang asked.

Ed took another sip, then licked some of the sugar off part of the rim of the glass while he thought. These were the kind of conversations he lived for. The colonel was giving him questions to make him think, instead of giving him the answer.

Of course, this was politics; perhaps there was no answer, only philosophy. He sighed and said, “I think I see where you're going with all of this, and I suppose you're right. It would be difficult to implement that type of a government, but I don't think it would be impossible,” Ed said.

The colonel nodded, and said, “Perhaps you could find a type of democracy that would work, but as it stands right now, I don't think that Kagegkuski is prepared for all of that. He wants to win his war, and that's what he's focused on.”

Mustang gulped down the rest of his drink, then leaned over the table toward Ed and whispered, “But you know what? I'm not going to let him win. This is my country. I will become Fuhrer, and when that happens there will be changes. I refuse to let this country go on the way it has, but that doesn't mean I'm willing to let Kagegkuski have it.”

Ed gazed deeply into the older man's eyes. It was this sincerity, this powerful desire to make things better, which inspired Mustang's staff to follow him. That thought made him think about what had happened in the hospital earlier that day.

He wanted to ask what Havoc had meant by `I told you it was a bad idea', and `What makes you think they won't find out your other plans.'

The blond watched the colonel sit back in his chair and finish off the rest of his drink. Before Mustang could raise his hand to flag down the waitress, Ed said, “Let's go home.”

“What?” the other alchemist asked in surprise.

“I'm tired…” he said and stood up. That was part of the reason, but not all. He didn't want to sit here and watch Mustang get drunk, then have to try to support the man all the way home. Also, Ed had questions, and he thought he'd have a better chance at getting the answers in a place that wasn't public.

“You going to finish that?”

Sighing, Ed picked up the glass and gulped down the rest of his drink. Better him have it than Mustang…

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

After shutting the door, Ed pulled off his boots and watched Mustang walk toward the kitchen and out of sight with a feeling of resignation. How the man could want more than two drinks was beyond him.

Personally, Ed already felt quite `warm and toasty', as the colonel often called it, and any more would probably move him from the `buzzed' category into the `drunk' category.

With a sigh, Ed absentmindedly unbuttoned a few of the buttons on his uniform as he thought about how to bring up what he wanted to ask. It was obvious that Mustang didn't want him to know about what he really thought about how Fuery was attacked, and the more he thought about it, the more frustrated he became.

The sound of glass clinking on glass from the kitchen met his ears, and Ed scowled. He'd only had one drink and that had been plenty for him, not too much…really, he still felt okay…he just felt a bit fuzzy that was all. Irritably, the teen shook his head as if that would help him think more clearly.

After another moment, the colonel walked out of the kitchen, with a drink in his hand and watched him for a moment as he finished unbuttoning his jacket, then walked forward and whispered, “Why don't you let me help you out of that…”

A half moan, half sigh escaped him as the colonel slipped a hand underneath his black tank-top and teased one of his nipples. Mustang leaned in and the teen felt lips brush lightly against his neck.

It felt good, but the physical touch just seemed to horribly clash with his mood. It wasn't just Fuery that bothered him. During the walk home he'd become increasingly frustrated as he thought about the events at the hospital. Havoc knew something, Hawkeye too, about what was going on, but he didn't know anything. He'd decided to ask about this when they got home, but instead of inquiring in a roundabout way, Ed suddenly blurted out, “What did Havoc mean?”

The kissing and touching stopped, and the blond groaned inside. That was just the worst way to start this conversation… The colonel's head lifted and obsidian eyes stared into his, radiating confusion and irritation.

“At the hospital,” Ed continued, figuring he'd already ruined the moment, he might as well finish the question. “What was a bad idea, and what plans was he talking about?”

Mustang's eyes took on a guarded look. “That's classified,” he said, then began to lean in again, but stopped when the teen spoke again.

“But, you can tell me, right?” Ed asked. He heard the pleading whine in his voice and thought, Damn, I'm pathetic... What the hell is wrong with me?

The other man sighed, shook his head. “No, I'm sorry.”

“Why not?” he asked irritably, and rubbed his head trying to ward off the headache that was coming on. It wasn't fair that he didn't know, but others did… “Doesn't any of this…” he waved his hand around vaguely “…mean anything? We're close right? So why not tell me? It's not like I'm going to tell anyone else.”

The colonel sighed deeply, stepped away and turned his back to him. Shaking his head, Mustang put the glass on the table and said, “This is different, Ed. What's going on between us doesn't affect our work, and the other way around.”

“Bullshit,” he growled, trying to mask the hurt that was mixing in with his frustration. “How can you say that?”

Mustang turned around with a scowl on his face. “Ed, I said this was classified. That means `not for you to know.' Now stop pushing.”

“Does this have to do with the fight you had with Havoc in your office a couple of weeks ago?” Ed asked. He couldn't help it. He was angry and hurt that Roy wouldn't let him in on what was going on, so it just made sense, in a strange sort of way, to get back at him by doing what he said not to.

The colonel folded his arms and gave him a dark look. “That is also classified.”

The blond made a sound of exasperation, and walked away from the door. He began pacing back and forth in the living room, quickly trying to gather all the jumbled thoughts in his head, then said indignantly, “You don't tell me anything. All you have me do is research things that have no relevance to anything truly important.”

“I thought you like researching,” Mustang broke in.

“I do, but that's not the point! I only know the bare minimum about what's going on. I know this all has to do with that assignment about finding out who in the military is connected to the People's Government, that much is easy to figure out, but I don't know what's being done to find them.”

Ed stopped pacing and made a slashing motion with his hand across his body with his next words. “You haven't told me anything! I want to be involved. You'll need someone to take over whatever Fuery was doing, so why not me?”

“No,” Mustang said bluntly.

“Why not?” Ed asked, becoming even more angry with the colonel's refusal.

The dark haired man unfolded his arms and placed his hands on his hips. “Because I said so.”

“What a load of shit,” Ed growled. “Something important is going on, and you're trying to keep me out of it! I know you meant what you said about them leaving you a message by trying to kill Fuery, but you're trying to hide it. I want to know why.”

The colonel shook his head. “Ed, this isn't your business.”

“Make it my business!” he demanded.

“No.”

“But…”

“I said, `NO', Ed!” the colonel shouted in aggravation.

“But you'll tell Hawkeye and Havoc and Fuery… probably even Breda and Falman too! But not me!” Ed yelled, feeling hurt, out of control and left out.

Mustang picked his glass up from the table and took a deep drink before running his hand through his hair and saying in vexation, “You're acting like a little child. I'm entitled to know things that you don't. My rank gives me that. I'll share information with whomever I think needs to know, and you don't need to know.”

“What a fucking load of shit!” the teen exclaimed. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew what the colonel said made sense, but…but…they were close! They shared the same bed! Mustang should tell him…right?

“Edward, calm down. There's no need to yell,” the colonel said in that infuriatingly calm voice.

“I'm not yelling,” he cried. He wasn't yelling, just talking loudly…

Mustang stepped toward him and put a hand on his shoulder. “You're exhausted, and I think the alcohol is affecting you, perhaps it would be better if you just went to be…”

“What?” he exclaimed and shrugged the man's hand away. “You'd better not be saying I'm drunk, because I'm not! I remember what it was like being drunk, you asshole.” Actually, he only kind of remembered being drunk. But from what he remembered, he wasn't like that at all.

“You don't have to drink a lot to have it affect you,” the colonel said dryly.

“Oh please…” Ed spat. “You are lecturing me about drinking…?”

“What's that supposed to mean?” Mustang asked defensively.

“Just that you drink way too much! That's what I mean!” he screamed back, his fury blinding his reasoning.

The colonel laughed humorlessly. “You really are acting like a child; demanding to know what you have no right to know, and then trying to turn all this back on me.”

The teen stared hard at the man and repeated, “A child?”

“That's right, Ed, a child; a little child.”

Furiously, Ed walked toward the hallway, then turned back and jabbed his finger into the air toward the other man. “You know what? Fuck you!”

He turned around and walked into the hall, then heard, “Ed, get back here!”

“Go to Hell!” he yelled, feeling his eyes prickle with impending tears.

Seconds later, he heard the colonel following him. “Ed, stop right now, I'm not done talking to you.”

He walked into the bedroom, stopped then grabbed onto the door. “Are you going to tell me what's going on?” he asked angrily, getting back to the original point of contention.

“No, I'm no…”

Without waiting for the rest, Ed slammed the door and locked it. Tossing his coat on the chair next to the desk, he threw himself on the bed and listened to the man pound on the door.

“Edward! Unlock this door!”

Yeah right…

Ed grabbed his pillow, put it under his head and closed his eyes, as if that would stop the tears from coming. He willed the suffocating pain in his chest to go away. Part of him wanted to open the door. Just open it and apologize, make things all better. He hated arguing; especially after what happened with Al…but part of him couldn't let this go… He was angry and hurt. Not only was Mustang keeping stuff from him, but he also called him childish…and little…

“Bastard…” he muttered.

When the pounding stopped, Ed felt tears seep out from beneath his eyelids. He's probably just going to get drunk... The thought made him even more angry.

Why?

Why am I acting like this?

That was the most frustrating thing… he didn't know.

It shouldn't matter to him how much the man drank, whether he was told some military business, or if the man let him in on every detail of his life…

But it did.

It did matter to him.

Ed went over the fight in his head again and again, but all that did was make him even more hurt and upset. Reaching over, he grabbed the colonel's pillow and hugged it. He breathed in Roy's scent as if it would be some sort of cure to all the problems…

But of course it wasn't.

Why does it have to be this way...?

Maybe it was the alcohol, or the fact that he was exhausted; perhaps it was the thought that what happened to Fuery could happen to Roy… and the fucker was keeping him from being able to protect him… but whatever the reason, Ed buried his head in the pillow, and began to cry.

1 - Mustang is drinking a “Suffering Bastard”. This is made from 1oz Gin, 1 oz Rum, 1/2 oz Lime Juice, 1 dash Bitters, 1 oz Ginger ale and Ice.

2 - Ed is drinking an “Amaretto Sour”. This is made from 1 jigger Amaretto, Juice of 1/2 lemon, ice and a maraschino cherry (this is just for garnish).

Thanks to:

MasamuneReforged for being my beta.

Kikiko for her insights.

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