Fullmetal Alchemist Fan Fiction ❯ The Sound of Silence ❯ Inheritance ( Chapter 5 )

 

 

The Sound of Silence

 

Chapter Four

 

Inheritance

 

 

Ed moped into the break room to get a snack. He needed to tell the colonel that he and Al were leaving. He didn't really want to. In fact, he really wasn't all that hungry, but getting a snack was more of an excuse to delay the inevitable than anything else.

 

“It's not all about the looks! I like women with brains,” Havoc said, cigarette hanging from his lips.

 

Hawkeye rolled her eyes and folded her arms. “Really? Then what's the problem?”

 

Ed blinked, surprised at not finding the break room empty.

 

“She's just not my... Hey, chief!” Havoc said a little too happily. It was obvious to Ed that he was being used a scapegoat. Ed grunted and lifted a hand before making his way over to the snack machine. He'd feel like being friendlier after he let Mustang know he was leaving. It was rarely a pleasant experience, having to tell the colonel he was going away again.

 

Sometimes Mustang was insulting, perhaps telling him not to damage anything while he was gone or telling him to grow taller. This type of response was extremely irritating, and it usually set his temper on fire. But then, other times, Mustang was indifferent. This was Ed's favorite reaction. He could just say, `Colonel, I'm leaving.' And the man would either just wave him off or say, `Fine, Fullmetal. See you when you get back.' Those were all normal responses when there were people present, and the most easy to deal with.

 

Then there were the other responses. The ones when it was just him and Mustang.

 

There were the vulgar, insulting comments. Things like, `Oh, off to go find another bed to sleep in?' or `Be sure to get a bit more experience while you're gone, then you can show me what you've learned.' And then there were the responses that weren't really verbal at all; simply the man feeling him up. When Mustang finished, he simply went back to his desk and continued with what he had been doing. Both of those responses were awkward and just made him feel sick and dirty.

 

Lastly, there were the times that the colonel would hold him and tell him how much he'd miss him and that he should be careful. Mustang would be so kind and caring... Sometimes Ed thought that one was the worst. It left him feeling so confused inside. It was as if the man really did care about him.

 

“What are you up to, chief?” Havoc asked in a drawling voice, breaking Ed away from his thoughts.

 

Ed shrugged. “Me and Al are leaving. Just thought I'd let the old bastard know.” He expected Havoc to snicker like he usually did at Ed's unfriendly terms for the colonel, but when none came he looked up to see the two lieutenants staring at him. “What?” he asked curiously, as he pulled his snack from the vending machine.

 

“The colonel isn't in today,” Hawkeye said. “His mother passed away last week and a relative sent some of her personal belongings, so he took the day off to go through them.”

 

Ed raised an eyebrow. “I didn't know his mom died.”

 

Hawkeye shrugged. “Neither did we.”

 

“If you ask me, it's a bit strange that he wouldn't take time off to go to her funeral, but he'll take a day off to go through her belongings,” Havoc said as he leaned against the break room table.

 

Hawkeye shrugged. “Well, maybe... But perhaps they weren't close.” She paused. “Besides he would have needed to take more than a day off to go to her funeral. And, of course, he needs to clear all that stuff out of where he lives.”

 

“Yeah, I suppose,” Havoc said, scratching his forehead.

 

“Edward,” Hawkeye said, glancing at him. “You should still tell him you're leaving.” Until that moment, Ed had been beginning to feel rather lucky at not having to see the colonel.

 

“Can't one of you tell him for me tomorrow when he gets back?” he muttered around the food in his mouth.

 

“Edward... the colonel deserves better than that from you, really,” Hawkeye scolded. Ed rolled his eyes and listened to her give him directions to Mustang's apartment. Not like he needed them, but it would seem rather strange that he knew how to get there.

 

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

 

Ed walked slowly down the sidewalk with his hands in his pockets.

 

It was hot…

 

But then, it was summer, and he just happened to be wearing a jacket and a coat.

 

He sighed wearily and looked around. It was strange being in this neighborhood when it was daytime. The whole area just seemed different. At night it seemed an ominous graveyard of old, worn buildings, but during the day the buildings just looked like normal buildings, nothing scary at all about them.

 

The sound of laughing and shouting met his ears and Ed looked up to see a group of kids, perhaps near his own age, playing a game of basketball. He stopped and watched for a while through the gaps in the chain-link fence.

 

How long had it been since he did something fun like that?

 

Since he became a state alchemist?

 

Since his mother died?

 

Well, he had played with Nina at times when he wasn't busy studying for the state alchemy exam, but Nina had been... how many years younger than him? How long had it been since he'd gotten with people his own age and just played?

 

As Ed watched the other kids scrambling around the small court, he felt a sensation of pressure in his chest... a pain in his heart... He really wanted to play; wanted them to call to him to come and join them, just like his old friends in Rizembool would have done. But Ed wasn't sure what he'd do if they did do that. It would be strange to go play; difficult in a way that he couldn't understand. It would be odd, as if he didn't belong there...

 

Ed shook his head. No, he didn't belong there. He was a state alchemist, and he was on a quest. His goal was to get Alphonse back his body, and he couldn't allow himself to be distracted by other things as unimportant as playing a game, or having friends.

 

Besides, Ed thought, listening to their pointless babble as they started talking among themselves, he didn't think he'd be able to relate to them anymore. Things were just too different now. He'd been through too much.

 

Ed pulled himself away from the scene, trying to push aside the depressing feelings of loneliness. He knew he didn't have time for all of that. He needed to go get this business done with Mustang, then return to Al at the library. He'd said that he wouldn't be gone very long, and his brother would start to worry.

 

When he reached the building, Ed pulled open one of the doors and grimaced in disgust when he entered the foyer of the apartment building. It was probably warmer in the building than it was outside, which meant the air conditioner must be broken again. It had been working when he'd been here last week, but then it had been at night so the heat hadn't been as oppressive.

 

And then there was the smell...

 

He wrinkled his nose and breathed through his mouth. He didn't even want to think about what the smell might be from.

 

Ed started up the stairs and complained bitterly in his mind about it being summer and all the layers of clothing he was wearing. By the time he reached the fifth floor he was cursing the forever broken elevator as well. When he got to Mustang's door, Ed pounded heavily on the cheap wood and waited.

 

No one answered.

 

Ed felt his hopes rise as he knocked one more time. Maybe he wouldn't be there. Maybe he was asleep. Maybe... He frowned in disappointment when he heard the dead bolt click. The door opened a bit, but was stopped by the chain of the safety lock. Black, bloodshot eyes stared coldly down at him, and Ed could smell the foul odor of alcohol, mixed with a smoky smell, permeating from the apartment.

 

The colonel made an exasperated sound and shut the door. There was a rattling noise as the man messed with the chain, then the door was flung open. Mustang stood by the door leaving a passage way for Ed to come in.

 

When Ed only stood there, the colonel growled, “Well?”

 

Sighing in defeat and bitter disappointment, Ed walked inside the small apartment. Mustang shut the door behind him and asked, “What the hell are you doing here?”

 

Ed took his coat off and hung it on the hook, then said dully, “Hawkeye told me to come.”

 

Mustang snorted and walked away. Ed stared at the remaining hooks for a moment trying to decide whether or not he wanted to take off his jacket too. It was still pretty hot, despite the fact that he could feel a breeze coming from the direction of the window. Sighing, he unzipped his jacket and hung that next to his coat. He wasn't sure how long he'd be here and he didn't want to roast.

 

It was only when Ed turned around did he realize what a mess the place was in. There were boxes, papers, photos, and all kinds of stuff strewn across the floor. The most curious thing was a large metal bucket full of ashes. That must be where the smoky smell was coming from, he decided.

 

Mustang, wearing a white tank top and baggy tan pants, sat in a small cleared spot on the floor and picked up a large bottle of some sort of alcohol. Mustang took a deep drink before setting the bottle back down beside him.

 

Ed hesitated. Normally, there was some sort of routine when he came here. He'd come in, hang his coat up, and the colonel would offer him a drink. The hot chocolate of the winter had given way to chocolate milk as the weather turned warm.

 

At least, it had given way to chocolate milk... once.

 

It didn't matter that it was chocolate.

 

It was still milk...

 

That night, Mustang had seemed indifferent to Ed's profuse irritation at having been served something so vile, but the next time he'd come there had been soda instead.

 

Now though, Ed wasn't sure what to do. No drink had been offered and the couch was cluttered with various items. While he was trying to decide what to do, the colonel said, “You know were the fridge is if you're thirsty, Ed.”

 

For a moment, Ed didn't think he wanted anything to drink, but it just seemed so strange not to have something. So he walked into the small kitchen and opened the fridge.

 

It was the first time he'd ever really been in the kitchen. The fridge was filled mostly with beer bottles, but off to the side there were four bottles of soda. At the bottom of the fridge there were greasy remains of some fast food. The wrappers were partially open, and mold was growing on what parts of the food he could see. Ed wrinkled his nose, quickly grabbed one of the soda bottles, and shut the door.

 

That was just gross...

 

Ed walked to where the cheap linoleum ended, and the thin excuse for carpet began, then sat down. There really wasn't much room to sit anywhere else. The colonel ignored him for a while, sorting out this and that from the boxes, often tossing things in the large metal bucket that had the ashes.

 

Finally Mustang asked disinterestedly, “Why did the lieutenant send you over?”

 

Ed took a sip of the soda, then said hesitantly, “Um... well... Me and Al... we're leaving...”

 

Mustang stopped what he was doing and looked over at Ed with tired eyes. “Leaving?”

 

“Yeah... well, you know... those papers you gave me...” Ed mumbled.

 

Over the last seven or so months, there were times that the colonel would give Ed `gifts', as he called them, when they got together. Not always, but often enough. Usually they were some sort of hint, or a clue, or even better, a lead.

 

The `gifts' never came without a price though...

 

Not that it was ever said out loud, not really.

 

But Ed knew.

 

He knew he was expected to `pay' for his `gifts', but if that's what it took to get Al's body back he would do it. No price was too high for his brother. Ed would do anything for Al.

 

Anything.

 

“Right...” Mustang mumbled, then ran his eyes over Ed's body. “How long do you think you'll be gone?”

 

Ed shrugged and tapped his fingers on the glass bottle. “I dunno. Three weeks. Maybe four.”

 

The colonel sighed and rubbed at the dark stubble growing on his face. “I wasn't expecting you to figure that out for another few weeks at least.”

 

Ed shrugged. It might have taken him that long alone, but Al had worked on it with him, and his brother could keep going even when Ed needed to sleep.

 

Mustang grunted, stood, and walked to his desk. After fishing a folder out of a drawer, Mustang plopped it in Ed's lap before sitting back down without a word. He opened the folder and thumbed through the papers in surprise. This would be very important for Al and him. They'd be able to use it once they got to their destination.

 

Ed looked up at the colonel in mild shock, and a bit of irritation. “Why didn't you give this to me before?”

 

“It's your birthday present,” Mustang said vaguely.

 

Ed blinked. His birthday present? His birthday wasn't for two more weeks, but then of course he and Al would be gone... He felt a bit unsure of what to do next. If it was a birthday gift did that mean he didn't have to do anything for it, or...?

 

Ed cast his eyes about, searching for a way to find out what he wanted to know without being too obvious when his gaze stopped on a pile of pictures that was lying on the floor. Curious, he reached over and picked one up. There were three people in it; a man, a woman, and a young boy. The man looked almost like the colonel, but Ed was sure that Mustang was the boy in the picture. The boy in the photo didn't look very happy, and he had a couple of bruises on his face.

 

Probably from fighting, Ed supposed.

 

“Is this your family?” he asked, holding the photo up for the man to see. Besides wanting to know about the picture, Ed thought this was a great opportunity to take any focus off him and this gift.

 

Mustang looked up and squinted at the picture until Ed handed it over. He stared at the photo for several minutes, then said quietly, “Yeah…”

 

“So that guy is your dad?” A curt nod. “You guys look a lot alike.” This was no idle statement. If Ed hadn't known better, he really would have thought that man was his commanding officer.

 

The colonel looked up in irritation, and said bitterly, “I used to hear that all the time. My mother used to say, `Roy, you look so much like your father' or `Roy, you're just like your dad.'”

 

Ed fidgeted nervously at the negativity in the man's voice and tried to think of something else to say. “So... are you? Like your dad?”

 

Without answering Ed's question, Mustang gazed down at the photo with a painful look in his eyes. Ed watched as Mustang's jaw tightened, then the man crumpled up the picture, and threw it in the bucket of ashes.

 

Ed frowned. He didn't like seeing people sad. Usually Ed wanted to help if he could, and Mustang was no exception. Ed supposed he should feel glad that Mustang was unhappy, but he didn't. He just wasn't the type to find pleasure in other people's pain. Seeing the emotion from Mustang was actually a little disturbing. The colonel wasn't the kind of person to show these types of emotions and it made Ed a little uneasy as well as a bit sympathetic. He supposed he could kind of understand. He didn't much care for his dad either.

 

Setting the bottle of soda down, Ed got up, and walked over to the colonel. If there was one thing he'd learned, it was that Mustang liked him to initiate some sort of touch when they were alone. Ed normally hated doing it, and rarely did, but this time he felt a bit bad for the man, so...

 

Ed laid a hand lightly on the colonel's shoulder. For almost a minute he stood there, hand resting on Mustang's skin as the man sat there. Ed frowned at the lack of response he was getting and tried to think of something else he could do that wouldn't involve... wouldn't require him to do something that he really didn't want to do... That line of thought was cut off when the colonel moved onto his knees, wrapped his arms around Ed, and buried his face into his chest.

 

Ed looked down at the top of Mustang's head, at the greasy black hair, and frowned. Normally Mustang was meticulous about his appearance, even if he wasn't as much so about his apartment. Hesitantly, he wrapped his arms around the man's neck, grimacing a little as the sweat there wiped off onto his arm, and held the man's head closer to his body. His heart began to beat erratically in his chest when large hands ran up and down his back as they held each other in the embrace. He'd just wanted to be nice. He didn't want to do any of those things Mustang liked him to do...

 

“Ed,” Mustang whispered and pulled his head away, looking up into the boy's eyes. “Ed... I... What I've... I'm sor... I...” Ed swallowed nervously. He wasn't sure what to make of what he saw in front of him. There were tears in the colonel's eyes that radiated a pain he couldn't understand. Then Mustang looked down and whispered. “Go.”

 

“What?” Ed asked in surprise.

 

“Go on. Get out of here,” Mustang muttered depressingly. The words were followed by a small push. “Your brother will be waiting.” Ed picked up the folder and made his way toward the door. When he looked back the man was still kneeling with his head lowered.

 

“Um... colonel...?” Ed asked as he grabbed his coat and jacket. This just wasn't normal. He didn't want to complain since he wasn't going to have to do anything nasty or embarrassing, but he just felt so confused. But when Mustang didn't answer, Ed opened the door, and, with one last look over his shoulder, left.

 

--

 

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.