Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ Playing With Fire ❯ Angel, won't you call me ( Chapter 2 )

Playing with Fire

 

Because if you play with fire, you're going to get burned

 

Chapter Two: Angel Won't You Call Me

 

Could I be the only

Though I am a lost cause

Angel, won't you call me? -The Decemberists, Angel Won't You Call Me?

 

Ed sprawled on his bed. Homecoming wasn't what he'd expected it to be. First of all Al was so cold to him. It was like he didn't remember his own brother. He practically flinched every time Ed moved. Maybe Ed was exaggerating, but even Winry seemed to be concerned, and Winry was as socially astute as Ed was straight.

 

Dinner had been nightmarish. The only thing Al had said to Ed was “pass the salt.” While that was the shortest conversation Ed had had all day, it was certainly the most awkward. He'd always been close to Al, closer than the average sibling, and now this.

 

“Ed, phone!” Al yelled, jolting Ed out of his thoughts.

 

“Hullo?” Ed said picking up the extension in his room.

 

“Hey this is Jeff,” an all too familiar voice said.

 

“Oh, hi,” Ed said. Take that back, this was the most awkward conversation so far.

 

“Listen, are you okay, I mean it's been so long,” Jeff said babbling.

 

“Are you calling to tell me that you have new boyfriend because—

 

“No,” Jeff said, and Ed could just picture him laying on the floor half-naked, a completely puzzled look on his face. “There hasn't been anybody since you.”

 

“I—thanks, Jeff,” Ed said, feeling less awkward, “You don't know how nice it is to hear that.”

 

“So, you up for surfing tomorrow?”

 

“Jeff, it's November,” Ed said twisting his braid around his finger. “Besides I'm not sure if I can.”

 

“S'okay, I bet you're all pasty, from that jumpsuit,” Jeff said.

 

“I probably am,” Ed said. He hadn't thought of that at all.

 

“Dude, is this the same Ed? You know, the one who secretly obsesses over his tan lines? The Edward Elric that hates milk? Oh god please don't tell me they made you drink it there!”

 

“Don't worry Jeff, they didn't,” Ed said smiling slightly. Jeff really was a good friend, and an even better boyfriend. He always knew what to say to cheer Ed up.

 

“Then why are you so apathetic?” Jeff asked.

 

“Oh, it's probably the meds I'm on,” Ed replied off-handedly. He hoped Jeff would take this well. Slash wouldn't take the news too well. He didn't believe in medication or `practicing gays' as he put it.

 

“What do they have you on meds for? You're just about the most normal person I know.”

 

“I'm a pyro, remember. Anyway, the only reason I was able to get out was because the judge decided that the arson charge was irrelevant. Something to do with Relevant Insanity or something,” Ed said.

 

“Right,” Jeff said, before sighing. “So I guess you're normal. Except for your yellow eyes.”

 

“They're hazel,” Ed growled.

 

“So what other things have changed?” Jeff asked, changing the subject. It was the first time he'd talked to Ed in five months and he didn't want to get into an argument over Ed's eye color, which happened to be yellow.

 

“Do you want me to tell you the name of the drug, so you call look up the side effects and quiz me about them, or do you want me to tell you what I'm experiencing?” Ed said. He wasn't quite sure how to tell Jeff about his lack of interest. After all, Jeff always stated that Ed was most gorgeous when he was aroused.

 

“You tell me,” Jeff said, “They can't be that bad.”

 

“Depends on how attached you are to me jacking off for you,” Ed muttered. “Out of all the side effects I think I got landed with the worst. First off I get dry-mouth a lot and, well you know how I used to get motion sickness—

 

“Oh God yes, I remember that trip and so does the washing machine,” Jeff replied. Ed smiled at the memory. That camping trip had been back when he was just admitting to his crush on Jeff. Vomiting all over Jeff's pants had not been fun. The fact that Jeff had to spend the weekend wearing Ed's spare pair of pants had not helped matters.

 

“Imagine that, now multiply it by ten, and that's what the car ride from the courthouse to here was like,” Ed said. He still didn't know how he'd managed to avoid vomiting. Of course, there was the fact that he hadn't had much to vomit. This morning he'd barely eaten anything he was so nervous.

 

“Wow, what drug is this?”

 

“Luvox, but that's not the worst of it,” Ed said. He wasn't even sure if it was a side effect of the drug. The doctor had neglected to mention it, but it could've been because Ed looked more like twelve than fourteen.

 

“What could be worse than extreme car sickness?” Jeff asked.

“Little to no sex drive,” Ed answered.

 

“Really?” Jeff sounded appalled before falling silent. Ed listened to be the sound of Jeff typing something. He wished he could be there to watch Jeff's long talented fingers dash across the keyboard, among other things.

 

“Yeah,” Ed replied sadly. It used to be that when he'd first entered puberty he could spend almost an hour teasing himself, only to be intensely turned on again in five minutes, if the right images presented themselves. And when Jeff was around there was no shortage of such images.

 

“Man that has got to suck,” Jeff said.

 

“Yeah, the scariest thing is, I haven't really noticed it,” Ed admitted.

 

“That is scary,” Jeff said, “Especially because this website says that a `decreased interest in sex' is a serious side effect. Didn't you notice a change when they put you on it?”

 

“I did,” Ed admitted, twisting his hand around the end of his braid, “But it didn't seem like the right thing to mention. I mean, the doctor probably thought I was twelve.”

 

“Well…” Jeff drawled.

 

“Shut up,” Ed muttered. He didn't need any more grief about his height. Just the fact that Al was the same height as him was insult enough.

 

“Ha! They didn't take all of your personality!” Jeff crowed before continuing in a more serious tone, “Can you meet me tomorrow, by the docks?”

 

“I think so,” Ed said. No one had said anything about his restrictions since he'd arrived. He didn't even know if he was going to be allowed into the high school. It wouldn't be worth it anyway. They'd be getting ready for finals and all sorts of testing. Ed had taken all of the classes he'd wanted to in juvenile hall (and some he didn't i.e. Shop) and probably would be able to catch up, in two weeks. Just in time for finals.

 

“Okay, I'll call,” Jeff said. “I have to go. Mom has dinner. Love you.”

 

“I love you too,” Ed said, smiling fondly. He'd forgotten what it was like to be around normal people. Back in juvie he hadn't made many friends. A few people talked to him, but once they found out why he was there most of the kids left him alone. Ed guessed it had something to do with the idea that anyone who set a firehouse on fire must be tough. They knew so little.

 

“Ed!” Winry exclaimed, making Ed jump about a foot in the air. “I didn't know you had a girlfriend.”

 

“Winry shut up!” Ed hissed at her, catching sight of Al. Al had answered the phone. Al knew it wasn't a girl. Al was going to find out in one of the worst ways possible that Ed was gay, save walking in on Ed and Jeff.

 

“But you just told her you loved her,” Winry continued, completely flummoxed. “Besides I think it's cute, I mean she waited for you all this time, knowing in her heart of hearts that you were innocen—

 

“Winry,” Al said quietly, refusing to make eye contact with Ed. “It wasn't a girl on the phone.”

 

“If it wasn't, then who—Oh! Oh, oh,” Winry's mouth finally formed an `o' of understanding. Al nodded, before glaring at Ed and walked to his room where he closed the door with an air of silent finality.

 

“Are you?” Winry asked, her eyebrows still high. Ed nodded shamefully. This wasn't how he'd intended to come out.

 

“Oh Ed,” Winry said before throwing her arms around him. Ed hugged her back awkwardly. This was the most contact he'd had with anyone in months. “I didn't know. And Al'll come around. You'll see. He was just surprised, that's all.”

 

“What's going on?” Pinako asked, coming out of the kitchen at last. Winry tried to wriggle away from Ed but he just tightened his grip.

 

“Oh, Al just—you don't mind if I—

 

“You can tell her,” Ed mumbled into Winry's shoulder. Normally he hated the fact that she was taller than he, but right now it felt so damn good to just be held for once.

 

“Well, Al just found out that Ed's gay and has a boyfriend and—

 

“Beginning,” Pinako said, giving her granddaughter a strong look before giving the couch an equally strong look. Winry got the point and dragged a boneless Ed to sit on the couch. Once they were settled, with Pinako in her chair and Ed practically sprawled across Winry, Pinako cleared her throat.

 

“Oh, well, Al had picked up the phone and I guess it was,” Winry trailed off and looked at Ed.

 

“Jeff,” Ed said not removing his head from Winry's shoulder. Winry smiled, running her fingers through Ed's hair and across his back. He snuggled into her shoulder like a contented cat. Winry smiled again. Ed was just so impossibly cute at times. Not that he'd let her say that. He seemed to consider calling him cute one of the worst things Winry could do, besides insist that he eat lunch with her.

 

“Jeff and then I heard Ed telling Jeff that he loved him and isn't that so sweet—

 

Pinako cleared her throat again. Winry smiled brightly before continuing. Ed sunk lower in to the couch. He obviously wasn't in the mood to hear Winry coo over anything, especially his relationship.

 

“And I thought that it was a girl because well, Ed just doesn't seem like that and he never mentioned anything before, anyways, that's when Al heard and said that Ed was talking to a boy. And then Al just left and went into his room and—

 

“Breathe,” Pinako said. “Don't worry Ed, Al will come around. He'll—

 

“But the priest, isn't he—

 

“Why don't you explain it so that Ed understands,” Pinako said, giving her granddaughter a look that would've cowed any medical intern.

 

“Right,” Winry said, blushing. “There's this new priest and Al's been very religious since, well you know that. But anyway, the new priest is rather conservative and well, he's—

 

“So there's basically no chance of him ever accepting me,” Ed muttered. Slash was like that. He claimed that he was different than the right wing Christians in that he wasn't against all gays, just the practicing ones. Fortunately, Slash didn't count masturbation as “practicing.” According to him, “practicing” involved an other male. Needless to say, Ed hadn't come out to Slash or Mark or Davis. The twins were just stupid enough to believe that if you place any two gays in the same place for awhile they'll starting fucking each other. Slash was just smart enough to interpret not only Jeff's longing stares, but catch Ed's furtive glances as well.

 

He'd been prepared for some, well a lot, shock and disgust, but not from Al. He knew he'd get it from Mark and Davis, but he'd thought that his brother, his own flesh and blood would support him. Sure Al was Catholic, but Ed could've waited to tell him. Maybe when Al was older, like around twenty… seven.

 

“He'll be civil if he knows what's good for him,” Pinako said with a sinister grin.

 

 

Pinako's words translated into Al not going to church unless he was completely civil to Ed. That meant no sermons or visible disgust on Al's part. Al would've loved to complain that Pinako was denying him freedom of religion. But instead of arguing over the constitution (and who's pursuit of happiness trumped who's), Pinako just refused to drive Al if he didn't behave. Since the church wasn't within walking distance, it was just as effective as forbidding it completely, and it prevented Al from achieving his own form of martyrdom.

 

Ed sighed. It was already December and the court still hadn't found his father. Not that Ed cared in the least. But since Pinako didn't have custody of him (just a court order stating that he could live with her) she couldn't enroll him in the local school, which left Ed with absolutely nothing to do but twiddle his thumbs.

 

The first week back, it had been okay. The silence was a nice change from the constant noise of juvenile hall and he had his own space. He'd spent the first few days staying up late and then sleeping in. Unfortunately, Pinako couldn't stand it; She said that Ed had made a complete mess of the kitchen when he was sleep walking that morning, and informed him that unless he was up by seven, then he could do without breakfast. Ed didn't mean to make a mess in the kitchen. He normally was able to find his way around it in his sleep. Hell, he could even cook a better omelet when he was asleep than Winry could when she was awake. Unfortunately, this was before the Rockbells had remodeled the kitchen. And while Ed could find his way around the new kitchen awake, his subconscious hadn't caught up.

 

Ed had just gotten out of the habit of studying when Pinako sent a strongly worded letter to Judge Amelia. Within days Ed found himself enrolled (and behind) in online courses that were exactly the same as the ones he'd been taking in Juvie. Fortunately, Ed was smart and was able to catch up within days and be ahead within the week.

 

Then they reached mid-December, and with it, finals, and Ed, who'd already taken (and passed) them, had nothing to do.

 

On the first day of his unofficial break from his online courses, Ed went walking on the beach. The water was colder than normal and it was threatening to rain. Ed didn't mind; he loved the brooding look of the thunderclouds over the ocean, and it suited his mood perfectly.

 

After an hour or two of aimless wandering, Ed reluctantly headed back. Today was Tuesday and Pinako was at the hospital where she taught the interns. This meant that there was no one to keep him company, aside from Trez Pies, but either the dog ignored him or begged for food. Ed couldn't decide which was worse. Before he'd been arrested, Ed would've taken this opportunity to jack off as much as he wanted. But now, he didn't have the urge to. In fact, he didn't even remember the last time he'd touched himself. There hadn't been many opportunities in Juvie, and after he'd been on the Luvox, he hadn't felt the need.

 

Ed kicked at a weed on the sidewalk. There wasn't anything to do anymore. Jeff wouldn't be out of school until three and it was only ten o'clock now. Mark and Davis had recently moved back with their dad. Even Slash was gone. Jeff said that it was practically right after Ed got arrested that a bunch of gruesome murders started happening. The corpses were found practically exploded from the inside.

 

The whole town was in a panic when Slash's older brother, Scar, had been apprehended at the scene of crime carrying a rather high power, remotely detonated explosive device. Scar had been convicted of first degree murder on seven counts. He hadn't even tried to plead `not guilty,' he just kept stating that he was doing God's work.

 

Ed shuddered; Scar had always given him the creeps. He was even more into that weird cult than Slash was. That alone would've been disturbing enough, but add the fact that Scar always started preaching about the crimes of homosexuality when Ed was around, and Ed was very freaked out. Of course, no one believed him, not even Jeff. It was all Ed could to do to persuade Jeff not to “accidentally” touch Ed around Scar. It was still a shock to learn that Scar actually murdered people.

 

Slash was now in foster care. Scar had been his guardian and mentor. As much as Ed disliked Scar, he still sympathized with Slash. He now knew what it was like to live in limbo while the court tried to hunt down a suitable guardian, that being Ed's current situation. Although he wasn't in foster care, so maybe it wasn't as bad as it could be.

 

Ed glared at the inoffensive door to the house as he dug around in his pocket for the spare key. There was nothing to do. He'd already cleaned the house twice this week and to Pinako's standards. Considering that Pinako had worked at a hospital and various labs for practically her whole life, that was quite an accomplishment.

 

However, it also meant that Ed had nothing to do. He didn't feel like reading anything on the bookshelves, nor did he feel like playing any online games. Plus, it wasn't like he had the password to the computer. Pinako was the only one who knew it, but it wasn't as though there weren't any other computers in the house. There were, they just weren't connected to the Internet.

 

As Ed jiggled the key into the lock, he contemplated getting some of the Christmas decorations down from the attic. However, that would really ruin it for Al. He was always the one that did the Christmas lights and other decorations. Perhaps it was Ed's propensity for losing patience with things (ladders, lights, heights, his own lack of height et cetera, et cetera) and then stomping on them. It wasn't Ed's fault that the lights refused to stick to the sides of the house. Nor was its Ed's fault when he couldn't even reach the smallest gable with the highest ladder. It just wasn't fair. And now that Al was taller…

 

Well, Ed didn't want anything to do with the decorations this year. Ed walked over to the counter and the phone. Out of habit more than anything, he glanced at the message machine, as both he and Al had done when their mom was ill and in the hospital.

 

Ed experienced the familiar jolt, before acknowledging that it probably wasn't a life altering message. Ed walked over and hit play, completely prepared for some idiot's prank call or a cell phone call of Winry's or even about a church. Anything but:

 

“Hi this is Ned Simmons from the D. A. department. Umm, well the court has successfully tracked down your father. He was planning on being at your house at noon to see you and your brother. Bye.”

 

Ed paled beneath his semi-permanent tan. This couldn't be happening.

 

 

“Hi, is Pinako there?” Ed asked, twirling the phone cord around his finger. This was the fifth person he'd reached at the hospital. He'd been put on hold about half an hour and still hadn't talked to one person who knew where Pinako was.

 

“She's bu—

 

“Is she in surgery?” Ed asked. That was the one time he wasn't allowed to interrupt her. Otherwise, it was fair game.

 

“No, but—

 

“This is a family emergency,” Ed said through gritted teeth.

 

“Well, she's teaching a class—

 

“This is more important!” Ed yelled. Trez Pies whined. Ed glared at him. The dog gave Ed a positively dirty look before heaving himself onto his three feet and shuffling off. Ed was too annoyed at everything to feel guilty.

 

“Ed? Is that you?” Pinako's voiced sounded over the phone line.

 

“Yes and—

 

“This had better be important, I was explaining the—

 

“That Bastard is going to be here, at this house, at noon. He wants to see Al too,” Ed said. The line was quiet. Just as he was about to ask if Pinako was still there, when she replied.

 

“I'll be there shortly.”

 

“Don't forget the chicken—

 

Ed's reminder about dinner was met with the dial tone. He sighed before hanging up the phone. This was one of the worst day's of Ed's life.

 

 

Hohenheim stared at the woman he only vaguely remembered Trisha describing. At the time, he'd only considered Pinako cheap form of babysitting. He knew nothing about her and yet she'd been the one to take care of his sons for the better part of two years.

 

Hohenheim watched his two boys. They'd grown since the last he'd seen them. Ed's hair was longer, long enough to be pulled back into a far too neat French braid. Guys weren't supposed to be able to braid that well. It wasn't right. The alternative was that Pinako's daughter (niece, granddaughter, Hohenheim didn't know which) had done Ed's hair. That was almost worse. Guys didn't have girls braid their hair.

 

Ed, instead of fidgeting as he had done last time (how long ago was that? Four years? Five? Surely not six), fixed Hohenheim with a withering glare from his seat on the couch. Someone was obviously not happy about this arrangement.

 

Al, on the other hand, was bubbling with excitement, though he looked worried every time he glanced at Ed. Though, that might have been due to the intensity of Ed's glare than anything that had happened recently.

 

Hohenheim became aware of how intense the silence was getting. He tried to think of something to say, but what do you say to your kids after you've disappeared for the better part of a decade? Hohenheim sure didn't know. The only things that came to his mind were “So, long time no see,” which was cruel, and “So…” which was just plain awkward. In the end, it was Al who saved him.

 

“Dad, it's so nice that you came to see us,” Al said with a smile. Ed's glare intensified if anything. Hohenheim glanced quickly between the two brothers. Years ago Al had been the one he couldn't understand. Al was still inscrutable, but Ed, Ed had changed.

 

“Would you like to go out to dinner some place? My treat,” Hohenheim said, taking care not to blurt anything out. Al's face lit up.

 

“Yes!” he exclaimed, his whole face radiant. Ed said nothing and instead hunched further into the couch.

 

“Ed would you—

 

“No! I won't go with you! You killed her!” Ed shouted suddenly leaping to his feet. Hohenheim flinched.

 

“Ed you don't—

 

“No! It's your fault she's dead!” Ed screamed. Hohenheim noticed with a type of detached casual air that would later disgust him, the hot angry tears making tracks down Ed's face. He saw in perfect detail the wisps of blonde hair escaping his son's braid. Later he would make excuses, it was only because he was an artist that he noticed such things. Attention to detail was his business after all.

 

“And you!” Ed yelled rounding on Al. “You're no better than he! You think that your priest has the power to—

 

“Ed,” Hohenheim said, a note of warning in his voice. Al was all but flattened against the back of the couch, like Ed had been minutes before.

 

“NO! I'm not going!” Ed said looking Hohenheim straight in the eye. Hohenheim paused for a moment to let the dispassionate artist within him examine the scene. The lighting was beautiful and he knew they made a striking picture. Weak afternoon light catching select angles and accenting them. The light refracted off their blonde hair, turned Al's eyes in to frightened sorrel pools, Ed's to bright amber. The light, dimmed to a sepia tone by the blinds, was caught, reflected, and magnified by Ed's tears. The scene resonated and reverberated and touched Hohenheim somewhere deep down. He shouldn't be moved by the site of his own son accusing him of murder, but it…

 

It's only the lighting, Hohenheim thought, blinking. The spell was broken. Ed wrenched his eyes away from his father's and fled. That moment was enough. He wasn't the only one who had seen the beauty of in the breakdown. Ed always had the artist's eye, something Al never understood. Of course, neither could Trisha. They couldn't see what could hold Hohenheim's attention for hours, much less hyperactive Ed's. How could mere brush strokes fascinate one for hours on end? Wasn't it just a painting, they'd ask.

 

“I'll go talk to him,” the hitherto silent Winry said. “He's not normally like this, He's just had a rough time of it.”

 

Hohenheim frowned. What on earth was going on?