Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ The Sound of Silence ❯ Secrets ( Chapter 2 )

 

 

The Sound of Silence

 

Chapter One

 

Secrets

 

Six years earlier...

 

Ed looked down at the pavement as he walked along the streets of East City, home of the military's Eastern Headquarters.

 

It was dark.

 

Of course it was dark. It was the middle of the night.

 

The twelve-year-old alchemist kicked at a small pebble that just happened to be in his way and watched it clatter noisily off the sidewalk and into the empty street.

 

That was how he felt.

 

Empty.

 

How appropriate.

 

Ed sighed and adjusted his long, red coat so that it was pulled more tightly around him; the hoody part of the coat falling into his eyes for a moment before he could readjust it on his head. Irritably, he decided it just wasn't worth the trouble and let the top of the hoody fall just in front of his eyes.

 

He was looking down anyway…

 

It was a cold, windy night.

 

Of course it was cold and windy; it was near the end of autumn… But it was more than that… It was cold and windy because the world hated him.

 

Plain and simple.

 

At least that was how he felt.

 

Nothing seemed to be going his way; nothing at all. But then, wasn't that just the way his whole life was? Not that he was going to give up.

 

No way.

 

But it was still frustrating.

 

Well, Ed supposed he couldn't say nothing was going his way… He had passed the state alchemy exam a couple of months ago. That was something, right? But then there was all that horrible stuff with Nina and Tucker, and then what happened with Barry the Chopper… Ed didn't think he'd ever been so scared in his life… Well, maybe when he and Al had tried to… but that was a different kind of fear…

 

Now though, he and Al had a purpose. They had a plan. They'd find the Philosopher's Stone and get Al back to normal.

 

A particularly cold breeze made Ed hug himself even tighter.

 

He'd thought it would be much easier than it had been. Ed had expected to find it within at least a few months. That's the way everything had always been for him. Study, search, find. But the stone was proving to be extremely difficult. He sighed. They would find it, and he would get Al back to normal. His brother always said `us' or `we', but that wasn't the way he thought. Maybe Al would get back to normal, but not him.

 

He just couldn't believe he'd be able to get rid of his false, automail limbs and regain his real ones. It was his punishment for what he'd done, and Ed supposed he could live with that as long as he could get things right with Al. That's all that mattered.

 

Thunder rumbled overhead, but Ed didn't bother speeding up his pace. Even if he got rained on, it was better than lying in bed, tossing and turning, not being able to sleep.

 

Ed sighed again. He hated East City. He'd much rather report in at Central, but, no… someone had to get themselves promoted and sent east. Even then, Ed would still rather report into Central.

 

Ed couldn't deny the fact that had it not been for his commanding officer, he'd probably still be moping around back in Rizembool, probably without the automail as well. The appearance of the man on that night had given him the idea.

 

A purpose.

 

But…

 

There were times that the colonel just acted... strange. He would look at him... differently. Ed wasn't sure what to make of it. Mustang never looked at him like that when there were other people around, just when they were alone…

 

He frowned at the sidewalk as it became lighter; pale colors of neon lights that belonged to the city's night life of bars and clubs made the ground glow in faint colors.

 

Ed didn't know how he should react to the older alchemist. The looks were almost like ones he'd seen him give to women passing on the street, but that made no sense. The colonel liked women, and Ed was definitely no woman. Besides that, Ed didn't consider himself all that good looking, especially with the automail. Then there was the fact that he was freakishly short, twelve-years-old, and the man's subordinate. Ed shook his head. He just didn't understand.

 

When he heard some people laughing raucously, Ed picked up his pace. This wasn't an area he wanted to be in so late at night. Suddenly, someone called his name and he stopped.

 

“Ed?”

 

He turned around and lifted his gaze, but the cowl of his hood made it impossible to see. Grunting in irritation, Ed was about to pull his hands out of his pockets to adjust the hood when it was lifted and placed in a less precarious position on his head.

 

“I thought it was you…” Roy Mustang muttered.

 

“Well, duh! How many other people do you know that dress like I do?” Ed replied irritably. He wasn't exactly happy about having the man he had just been thinking about appear. Ed looked Mustang up and down then said, “You look nice. Been out on a date?”

 

Mustang, who was dressed in a nice pair of dress slacks and a gray button up shirt, grinned and said, “You think I look nice?”

 

Ed rolled his eyes and glanced away. Besides those looks the colonel had been giving him when they were alone, there were also the casual comments... nothing too out of place and definitely nothing that was actually inappropriate, but...

 

“To answer your question, yes, I was on a date, but she left earlier... the story of my life...” The last was muttered and Ed almost didn't hear it.

 

“So why are you still here?” Ed asked, nodding at the nightclub.

 

The twenty-six-year-old colonel shrugged and grinned. “That is a good question. Perhaps it was time that I left.”

 

Ed pulled his coat closer around himself. “I'm taking a walk by myself.” He wanted to wallow in his self-pity alone, and he especially didn't want his creepy commanding officer walking with him. But when Ed turned around and began walking away, Mustang fell into step beside him. Irritably, Ed growled, “Alone means one person. Maybe they should make sure soldiers can count before they're promoted.”

 

“Well, Ed, it is late at night, and it could be dangerous for you to be out alone. I'm just doing my job to make sure you're safe.”

 

“What a load of crap,” Ed muttered.

 

Neither of them spoke for a while as they left the bars and nightclubs behind them, then Mustang said, “You know... my apartment isn't too far from here. I make a pretty decent cup of coffee.” Something warm did sound good, but that would mean going to where the colonel lived.

 

“Why would I want coffee? It's after one in the morning,” Ed muttered grumpily.

 

“Because it's cold outside,” the man said, undisturbed by the Ed's moodiness. “I thought maybe you'd like to warm up.”

 

No... Ed wasn't sure he wanted to go to the colonel's place, but it was cold, and something warm would be nice.

 

“I have hot chocolate too.”

 

Suddenly a drop of rain landed on his nose, then another on his cheek. It was only beginning to sprinkle, but it would probably get worse and soon.

 

Sighing, Ed nodded. Mustang put a hand on his shoulder as if to guide him which way to go. Ed shrugged his shoulder, but the colonel kept his hold there for a moment, then ran his hand along Ed's back before taking his hand away. One more oddity to add to the list...

 

Mustang casually touching him every so often...

 

Though he would never admit it out loud, sometimes it was nice, like when it was a pat on the back for something good he did, but sometimes it happened at the strangest times, for no real reason... And, of course, it only happened when they were alone together.

 

When the colonel turned a corner, Ed followed and they began walking toward a tall apartment building. It took about five minutes to get there and when they walked into the foyer Ed crinkled his nose.

 

One wall was covered with small boxes for mail and the other wall held a faded picture of... something... Ed wasn't sure what. The paint on the walls, which looked as if it had once been tan, but was now a putrid smoky color, was pealing and cracked in many places. There were a couple of worn pieces of furniture and a small table where a group of men sat smoking and playing cards; a bottle of some sort of alcohol sat on the table.

 

“We'll have to take the stairs,” Mustang said. “The elevator is broken.”

 

Ed was only too glad to get into the stairwell. The men at the table had ceased their game and had started grinning lecherously at him. A couple even chuckled and whispered something about `sharing', whatever that meant...

 

After five flights of stairs they left the stairwell and walked down a narrow hallway with doors on either side. The walls were a sort of faded pinkish color and there were smears of dirt and... other colors... Ed didn't know... he didn't even want to guess.

 

“Here we are,” Mustang said and pulled some keys from his pocket. The chipped, brass-colored number on the door read 5-13. Ed, now feeling slightly nervous, almost turned around and left, but the thought of the group of men stopped him. It wasn't as if he couldn't defend himself if he had to, but... Thoughts of what happened with Barry the Chopper filled him with an unexplainable dread. Memories of running for his life, of a fear he'd never known before...

 

“You going to stand out in the hall all night?” The colonel's voice brought Ed out of his thoughts and he slipped inside, shutting the door behind him. The apartment was a small studio apartment, and the only light on was the one in the kitchen. There was a couch that looked as if it doubled for a bed, given the pillow and the blanket piled sloppily on one side.

 

On each side of the couch was a small end table. A desk sat near a window on the far end of the room. The desk had a pile of books on it, as well as a couple of pictures and a bottle of some sort of alcohol. There was a garbage can next to the desk that held papers and beer bottles; a few of the empty brown bottles dotted the floor near the desk and the couch.

 

In the corner opposite the desk, lay a mound of books and papers; and, by that, against the wall opposite the couch was a small rack where the colonel's uniform and other articles of clothing were kept. Also hanging from the rack was the colonel's gun holster, complete with the gun.

 

Ed shook his head; both at the irresponsible way the colonel treated the weapon, and the fact that he carried one at all. Supposedly, the rational was that even a trained State Alchemist might need a back up weapon. Ed had asked about the gun one day, and that was when he'd first learned that Mustang's flame alchemy didn't work in the rain.

 

“So, hot chocolate?” asked Mustang.

 

Ed looked over to the other side of the flat where Mustang stood in the middle of a small kitchen. He shrugged and nodded, then frowned when the colonel grinned at him before turning to making their drinks.

 

“Can't you afford something better than this?” Ed finally asked in disgust.

 

“Of course,” the colonel said casually. “But this is cheap, and it's away from where I work. I prefer it here. Besides, I want to get something nicer when I go back to Central, so I'm saving my money. It's not as important to keep up appearances here.”

 

“I guess…” Ed muttered.

 

“Why don't you have a seat?” Mustang invited as he continued to work in the kitchen. Ed looked uncertainly at the couch which, besides the chair at the desk, was the only place to sit. “Don't worry, it's clean,” the colonel said when he saw Ed's reluctance, then added, “Take off your coat and hang it over there.” Ed looked to the set of hooks on the wall where the man's coat hung.

 

Still feeling a little hesitant, Ed peeled his damp coat off and hung it on one of the hooks before heading to the couch. Cleanliness wasn't what was bothering him. Ed sat stiffly on the edge of one end of the couch, leaving plenty of space so that the colonel could sit farther away on the other side.

 

When Mustang was finished in the kitchen he walked over and handed him a mug before sitting next to him. Ed frowned at the close proximity, and would have scooted away from the man had he not already been at the end of the couch. He watched the colonel take a drink from the brown beer bottle before taking a sip of his hot chocolate.

 

“So, why are you out so late?” Mustang asked, reclining back and stretching his legs out.

 

Ed took another sip, unsure what to say. He was out because he couldn't sleep, and he felt the need to move. Tossing and turning in bed only worried Al, who never slept at all. His brother was probably worried right now given how the weather was turning sour.

 

“Couldn't sleep huh?” Mustang asked, and Ed gave him a surprised look. Mustang grinned and took another drink from the bottle. “That's what I thought.” Ed looked down at his mug. For some reason, he felt embarrassed that he'd be seen through so easily. Suddenly he felt a hand start rubbing his back softly, and he stiffened. “Don't worry about it Ed, we all get that way sometimes.”

 

It felt strange to have the colonel touch him like that, but it was also comforting in a way. The only person who had ever really touched him in a consoling gesture since his mom had died was Al. Ed loved Al with as much love as one brother could give another, but there was definitely a difference between hard metal and the soft touch of flesh and blood.

 

Ed took another sip, his emotions conflicting with each other. As much as Ed wanted to tell the colonel to keep his hands to himself, he also desperately craved human contact. They sat that way for a few minutes, Ed sipping on the cooling chocolate drink, and Mustang rubbing his back.

 

“You miss her don't you,” the colonel said softly.

 

It wasn't a question.

 

Ed swallowed hard and asked, “What do you mean...?”

 

“Your mother. You miss her.”

 

Ed blinked down at the mug as tears came unbidden to his eyes. “I—” The statement had just been so unexpected that he didn't know what to say or how to act, but suddenly he felt much worse than he had all night.

 

Ed felt Mustang move closer to him, then the colonel was taking the cup out of his hands and putting it on the end table. “It's okay Ed,” Mustang whispered and put his arms around the boy and pulled him back away from the edge of the couch. At first, Ed resisted, but not much. It did feel good to have someone holding him...

 

Ed rested his head on Mustang's chest as he began rubbing his back again, and Ed worked hard to keep the tears back. He didn't want the colonel to see him cry, it would just be too embarrassing. Ed could hear Mustang's heart beating and it kind of reminded him of when he was little and his mom would hold him and...

 

Again Ed felt the tears come, and again he tried to blink them away, but one stray tear escaped his eye and fell onto Mustang's shirt. It was then that Ed felt the colonel's hand slip under his jacket. He could feel the man's hand more clearly now since the tank top wasn't nearly as thick as the jacket. Ed felt the colonel's fingers touch the skin on his shoulder and below his neck then move back down over the tanktop again.

 

Mustang drank the rest of the beer and tossed the bottle on the floor where it rolled a bit until it clunked against another bottle, then the man put his other hand on Ed's leg and started rubbing it slowly as well. Ed stiffened a little; this definitely wasn't the kind of touching he was used to...

 

“It's okay, Ed…” Mustang whispered, and pulled him even closer. “We all need to be comforted sometimes. Even I need someone to hug.” Ed swallowed and nodded. “How about this, I'll comfort when you need it, if you'll let me hold you when I need it. It would be like…equivalent exchange…would that be okay?” With Ed's head pressed against the man's chest, he could hear Mustang's heart beginning to beat faster. The colonel's breathing was becoming a little irregular too.

 

Ed nodded reluctantly. The request just seemed... odd... but it would be nice to have someone hold him sometimes... Ed shifted, trying to get comfortable, but his body was tense from the unaccustomed contact.

 

“Just relax. I'm not going to hurt you...” the colonel whispered. After a few more minutes Ed was able to do just that, but it didn't last. He felt Mustang's hand slide up his leg and to the part of his rear that wasn't pressed against the couch, and again he stiffened. “Don't worry. I'm not going to tell anyone about this so you can relax okay? It will be our secret...”

 

Again, Ed wondered if he should tell him to stop... he was feeling really weird about this, but... no one touched him anymore, no one held him or hugged him... and it really did feel nice to be held even if the way Mustang was doing it was a bit... different.

 

“Right, Ed?”

 

“Huh?”

 

“This will be our secret, right?”

 

“Um, yeah…” Of course he didn't want people to know that he was being childish by letting the colonel hug him like a little boy, but then he didn't want to tell anyone about how Mustang was touching him either. It was just too strange...

 

“Promise me, Ed, promise you won't tell anyone,” Mustang pressed.

 

“I promise... but you have to too,” Ed added quickly. He didn't want the colonel to tease him about being a baby or something in front of everyone.

 

“Oh, I promise. You can be sure of it.”

 

--

 

Child abuse, or any kind of abuse, is a serious issue. If you, or someone you know, is being abused, please find someone you can trust and tell them.