Waiting: Mother Arc: Chapter 7

Evening found Yu in her son's living room, studying some photographs on the bookshelf that she hadn't had time to notice before.

"That was as we were moving in," Roy said as he nodded to one and handed her a drink. "Hawkeye took it—Riza."

The photograph was of the three of them—Roy, Edward, and Alphonse—on the porch, with Roy leaning against Edward and Edward looking like he was only barely tolerating it. She had to admit it was a cute picture, even though it was odd to see them so casually intimate. "Your teacher's daughter? She was under your command for a while, wasn't she?"

"Mm. She requested the placement after Ishval. The Brass don't trust me enough right now to grant me the staff I want or I'd request her back. She was a good aide."

So many ways she could follow that, so many questions she wanted answered, but she chose the safest one. "Are you unhappy with the staff you have now?"

Roy chuckled as he sad down on the couch, setting his own drink on the coffee table and raising his eyebrow at her. "Come now, Mother, you must have noticed Lieutenant Marcus's attitude this afternoon. He's never subtle."

She smiled in acknowledgement. "I had noticed someone giving you dark looks, yes." She sat down next to her son and bent to scratch the cat that was weaving around her feet. "Or perhaps he was glaring at Edward; it was hard to tell."

"Either, or most likely, both of us." He sighed and unbuttoned his uniform jacket. "Marcus ignores Ed for the most part, except for times like these."

"He doesn't . . . approve?"

Roy made a non-committal noise as he shrugged out of his jacket. He folded the garment over the arm of the couch and gave her a small, ironic smile. "I assume that's a roundabout way of asking if my relationship with Edward has caused any trouble for me."

Now it was Yu's turn for a non-committal noise, which she covered with her drink.

"The general atmosphere isn't exactly accepting of such things, but my rank keeps most people from making comments to my face, and Edward's temper keeps most people from his. Aside from Marcus—who I suspect has other reasons to dislike me—most people either tolerate us, ignore us, or keep quiet about it." He took a sip of his drink, then chuckled to himself. "There was one incident not long after we moved here, where Edward happened to overhear a private suggesting that perhaps Ed was my lover now because I had taken advantage of him while he was under my command."

"Oh? I'm guessing that this did not end well."

"Oh, no, I happen to think Edward showed considerable restraint. He merely put his fist through the wall next to the private's head and asked if he thought that he, the Fullmetal Alchemist, would have let himself be taken advantage of by anyone. I had to add the wall to the list of repairs needed at headquarters, but otherwise, there was no harm done."

Yu found herself chuckling along with her son, despite her unease with the implication of people talking behind his back, as well as with the intimate term he had so casually tossed out.

"Not everyone has been accepting of our relationship, but there haven't been any problems worth noting. Aside from a few stares, it's a non-issue."

"I'm glad," she said, honestly. "I . . . have to admit I had been worried."

He smiled, an odd, almost ironic look on his face. "I've dealt with worse. Much worse. He and I both have."

Yu nodded, and toyed with her glass while she watched the cat jump to the back of the couch and walk its length. There didn't seem to be anywhere else to go on that subject, and she still wasn't ready to bring up what was really bothering her. "What was it that got those two so excited after the demonstration, anyway? Oh, I hope they were able to have some questions answered before Winry-san interrupted them."

"Medical alchemy is another area of interest for him, so I doubt Ed truly minded. But to answer your question. . . ." Roy set his drink down and pulled a photo album from the shelf beneath the coffee table. He paged through the front, then passed the album over, his face pensive.

Most prominently on the page was a photograph of a much younger Edward sitting at the head of a table covered in food; his twelfth birthday, judging by the candles on the cake. In the background was what looked like a very pregnant Gracia Hughes, and to one side of the table was a little girl with pigtails, and to the other—

—Was a huge, spiked suit of armor, just as Charles had described.

Roy pointed to a picture of the little girl eating a piece of cake. "Nina Tucker. Edward and Alphonse stayed with her father while they studied for the state alchemy exam." He paused. "I had thought, given their ages, that it would be best to place them with a family, and Tucker's research was . . . along similar lines as their ultimate goal." He paused again, his mouth pressed into a thin line. "None of us realized just how . . . unstable Tucker was . . . until it was too late." He traced the edge of the picture thoughtfully. "A few months after these pictures were taken, Tucker used his daughter in an experiment. He turned her into a chimera."

"A—oh . . . oh, no." Yu covered her mouth, staring down at the cheerful little girl with frosting dotting her cheeks. "What happened to—to her?"

"When the military found out and arrested Tucker, they were going to take the chimera into custody, but it . . . she . . . escaped, and ran. The boys found her later that night. She'd been killed."

"Oh. . . ."

"They both took it pretty hard, but Edward, I think, even more than Al. They had started to think of her as a little sister, and Ed. . . ." He smiled, fond amusement with the bitterness. "Ed thinks he's responsible for everybody, but especially for younger siblings. He takes his role of big brother very seriously."

She let her hand fall to her lap, and sat back. "They're looking for a way to reverse it. The chimera process."

Roy nodded. "Tucker wasn't the first to think of using humans, and he certainly won't be the last." He sighed. "The problem is, as hard as it is to make a successful chimera, it seems to be ten times as hard to successfully unmake one, and so far their research has been purely theoretical. Neither of them likes the thought of experimenting on animals."

And now Edward was avoiding alchemy altogether, it seemed. "But theory can only take them so far. What will they do when they get to that point?"

"They will figure that out when they get there, I'm sure. That is their usual method of working."

Yu shook her head. "Don't they plan ahead for—ah!" Something had attacked her hair—something with claws.

"Magpie, off." Roy swatted at the cat and it went darting off the couch and into the kitchen. "Sorry Mom, I think he was after your hair stick."

"I didn't know I was wearing a cat toy." She patted at her hair, then removed the stick and set to rewinding it.

"We're finding that everything is a potential cat toy," her son muttered, glaring after the feline. "I have to be careful how I set my uniform jacket down or he'll attack the braid."

She chuckled as she finished pinning back her hair, then looked down at the photo album again. On the facing page, underneath a picture of Edward opening presents, was a photograph of an exhausted Gracia cradling an infant, with Edward leaning over them and grinning. The golden-haired boy looked completely amazed by the newborn, as open and innocent as any other boy that age. Yu couldn't help but wonder what had compelled such a child to tie himself to the military.

"Gracia gave us these," Roy informed her. "Maes had, as usual, made several copies. I think he suspected Ed and Al would want them eventually."

She turned the page, and there was a picture of the man in question. Maes was supporting a toddler on one arm, and had the other hooked around Edward's neck. The boy was pulling at the arm in apparent irritation, but was grinning all the same. Crouched down next to them was the suit of armor from the other picture. It must have been a trick of the flash, but Yu could swear the eye holes in the helm were glowing.

"He and Gracia were the only ones who could get away with being any sort of parent to those two," Roy continued. "Ed never tolerated anything he saw as coddling or patronizing, but . . . he put up with Maes."

"I haven't told you yet how sorry I was to hear about what happened to Maes." Yu looked over and squeezed her son's hand. "I know how close you were."

He looked down at the photograph with a sad, distant smile. "I still miss him. I don't think I'll ever stop missing him."

"In your letter you said there weren't many leads on who had—who had done it. Has that changed, or . . .?"

He sighed. "The military did nothing more than a cursory investigation, and then swept the entire thing under the rug. Officially, the case is 'unsolved.' Unofficially, I have my suspicions."

And if the military continued to do nothing, would her son have taken matters into his own hands? She had a feeling she already knew the answer to that question.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car door slamming and angry voices coming up the walk. The shouting resolved itself into words as the door was opened.

"—Who are you to make such judgments, anyway??" Winry shoved passed Al and stomped toward the hall. "You and those tight leather pants, honestly—"

"—I never went around showing more skin than—than—" Edward spat back.

Winry spun and shoved a finger into his face. "Than what? Huh?? Go on, finish that sentence, I dare you!"

"You're missing the fucking point!"

"No, you're missing the point!" She spun again and marched into the downstairs bedroom. "It's none of your goddamn business what I wear—"

"You fucking make it everyone's goddamn business with those—wagh!" He stopped short of the doorway and cringed back, and something rebounded off his arm with a sharp clang.

"You better not have dented that arm!"

"You threw the fucking thing!"

"I was aiming for your head!"

Slam.

Edward sputtered at the door for a moment. "You—fine! Just wait until you get to Central and find out the hard way!" Fuming, he stomped through the living room and slammed the door of the study.

Several moments of silence passed before Roy turned to where Alphonse still stood by the front door. "Dare I even ask?"

The boy rubbed the back of his head, looking helplessly after his brother and then his friend. "Nii-san . . . made a—a comment, about . . . Winry's . . . clothes."

Roy sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, and Yu pressed her lips together to stifle an inappropriate urge to laugh.

"I'm sorry. . . ."

"It's hardly your fault, Al."

"Still. . . ."

Yu closed the photo album and slid it back under the coffee table. "I should probably go."

"Mom—"

"No, it's late, and Li Xue had wanted to talk to me about something. I really should be getting back."

"All right. I'll drive you."

"Have a good evening, Yu-san," Alphonse said as she passed him. "Sorry about, um," he pointed toward the closed doors, "this."

She smiled and patted his shoulder on her way by.

Roy was uncharacteristically quiet as he started the car. To anyone else he might not seem overtly upset, but she was his mother. She smiled to herself, then offered, "It's not as if I didn't already know he had a temper."

He glanced at her, then sighed. "Sometimes I think 'temper' is an understatement."

"Oh/"

"Volatile, explosive. . . ." He put the car into gear and then backed out of the driveway. "Overreactive, excessive—you get the idea."

"I'm starting to, yes."

He pulled out into the street, then paused again before starting off. "Mother . . . I don't want you thinking he's nothing more than a foul-mouthed kid with a bad temper."

This time she did laugh. "Sweetie, I hardly think you would be so fond of him if he were." She realized the truth of the statement even as she spoke it.

He smiled and nodded. "True enough."

Still, she couldn't place the odd sort of relief she'd felt at seeing the young man act this way. Almost as if she had wanted him to do something childish.

* * *

Roy glanced at the closed doors of the guest room and the study, then turned toward the kitchen, where he could hear Al talking to Magpie.

"I'm getting your food, don't worry, I'll have it down in a minute," he was saying to the meowing cat winding around his legs. "If you'd eat it cold, it wouldn't take this long."

"Neither of them has come out yet?"

"Oh, welcome back—no, neither of them has. I didn't want Maggie to wait for his food, it's already late—yes, it's coming, it's coming," he assured the cat, who had reared up and put paws on his leg. "I'm sorry your mother had to see that. I was hoping they'd wind down before we got home, but it kept getting worse and worse—"

"It's not your fault, Al." Roy leaned against the table as he watched the young man spoon the warmed food onto a saucer and set it on the floor. "You don't always have to apologize for your brother."

Al smiled and scratched Magpie's back. "It's a habit, I guess."

"So what was that about?"

"Well. . . ." He glanced toward the living room and the closed doors beyond, and then continued in a low voice. "I think Nii-san was irritated with Winry about earlier—I don't think she realizes how self-conscious he is about it, because he isn't so much when we're in Resembool—maybe I shouldn't have pulled him over like that, but I wanted to hear what Princess Mei thought—" He broke off and sighed. "Anyway, the dinner with Olivia-san went fine, but then afterwards, Nii-san said that—that—" he glanced to the living room again, cheeks pink, then mumbled, "he said that Winry's clothes may—may give some people the wrong idea."

Roy bowed his head and pressed his lips together, not sure if he wanted to laugh or sigh. "I'm guessing he didn't word it quite so politely."

"No. And—well, you saw how well Winry took it."

"Mm."

"To be honest—and don't tell either of them this—I'm—I'm kinda glad he said something. Winry doesn't think about how she looks to other people. She's never had to, in Resembool, and nobody in Rush Valley cares what you look like if you don't have metal. But this is Central. Winry's only ever seen the nicer areas. There were parts of Central that made me nervous, and that was when I was in the armor."

Roy nodded, chuckling. "I know what you mean." He leaned back for a moment and looked up at the ceiling, considering, then looked back down at the young alchemist and sighed. "Do you think Winry-san has calmed down enough to accept some third-party advice?"

"Maybe." Alphonse brightened, looking so hopeful Roy wanted to cringe. "She doesn't really stay mad long, not even with Nii-san—he just tends to get her mad over and over again. She might listen. . . ."

"I'll tread carefully," he assured the boy.

As if he did anything else around the youngest Rockbell. Even after all these months, he still felt she had every right to crucify him. It wasn't so bad when there were other people around, but he usually dreaded having to spend time alone with her. Still, he measured the steps to the guest room, steadied himself, and knocked on the door. "Winry-san? May I come in?" After receiving an affirmative he opened the door, shutting it quietly behind him. "About earlier. . . ."

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to yell in front of your mom like that," she interrupted, looking up from the clothes she had spread out on the bed. "It's just that Ed makes me so mad sometimes—"

"No, that's not it—believe me, I can sympathize. But Al told me what the argument was about—"

"He said—he all but came out and said—that—that my clothes make me look like—like some kind of streetwalker!" She brandished the skirt and blouse she had fisted in her hands. "These clothes! Do these look like a hooker's clothes to you? It's not like they're indecent. Huh?"

"Um. . . ." There is no safe way to answer that. "Winry-san—Ed's manner of delivery aside, I'm sure he's only concerned for your wellbeing. Central is not always a safe place."

"I can take care of myself." Winry threw the clothes into her bag and set her hands on her hips, glaring at the rest of her wardrobe.

"I don't doubt that." Silently, Roy thanked his years of practice in dealing with women in all kinds of moods. "But Edward's only thinking of his 'sister' heading off to a potentially dangerous place."

She scoffed and waved a hand, as if shooing a fly. "Ed's a boy; what does he know?"

He couldn't help but smile. "That's actually my point. Ed can't accurately gauge the risks a young woman would face. But if I may make a suggestion?"

She gave him a look that said, as if you would do any better? Roy inclined his head in silent agreement, then said, "Captain Hawkeye has been stationed in Central for several years now, and I believe she knows the city pretty well. . . ." He trailed off, allowing himself a small smile at the contemplative look that replaced the irritation.

"Yeah, okay. It would be nice to talk to Riza-san again, I haven't seen her since last year. . . ."

He nodded again, thinking he might want to send Hawkeye a note, and turned to leave.

"Oh, hey, wait a sec—what's the deal with Ed not doing alchemy? You said Al talked to him about it. . . ."

Roy sighed, and turned back. "I said he tried. You know how evasive Ed can be when he doesn't want to talk about something."

The young woman sighed and pushed her hair back. "Great. Of course it's one of those issues. Everything with Ed is one of those issues."

"The one time I tried to bring it up, he gave me some line I think their sensei used about doing things with your own hands, and then something about having gotten used to doing without, and then he changed the subject completely."

"Those wouldn't explain why he wouldn't fix his glasses."

"No. And, like I said, he's perfectly happy doing research."

"So it's not alchemy as a whole he has an aversion to, just the physical transmutations." She paused, and let her hand slide down to her mouth. "But . . . he can, right?" she said slowly, blue eyes wide. "He still can do alchemy . . . can't he?"

"Yes . . . as far as I'm aware. . . ."

Winry dropped her hand and folded her arms. "It's probably stupid, but I was just thinking—the reason he can do alchemy without circles is because of this Gateway thing he's talked about, right? It's like, an ability it gave him. What if—what if it could take it away, too?"

Roy had never thought in those terms. Was alchemy really such a fragile thing that could be given and taken by some unfeeling entity? However; "—No. No, he definitely has, I watched him fix the fence out back for the neighbor."

"There's that, then. It's not a 'can't,' it's a 'won't.'" She sighed and closed her eyes, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Which means it really is one of those big emotional issues of his that he never talks about. That idiot. . . ."

Roy sighed in agreement.

"If I was going to be in East longer I'd try to beat it out of him. As it is. . . . You'll keep an eye on him, won't you?" She dropped her hand and looked up at him, with those blue eyes that were so much like her mother's. "I know I don't need to ask, but you will, right?"

He nodded. "I will. I doubt Al will let it rest, either. I'll keep you informed if he lets anything slip."

She smiled, a familiar, genuinely accepting smile that he still didn't think he deserved. "Thanks, Roy-san."

* * *

Later that evening, Roy was sitting up in bed reading when he finally heard the study door creak open, and then an alternating thump and scuff on the stairs. Edward was trying to be quiet, but there was only so much he could do to muffle the fall of his metal foot. A moment later he crept into the bedroom and, after he saw Roy was awake, flopped face down on the bed.

"You and tact, Love," the older man commented, not looking up from his book.

Ed groaned and kicked at the mattress.

"By the way, I suggested to Winry-san that she talk with Hawkeye."

The blond tipped his head to the side and look up at him. "Why didn't I think of that?"

"Because you think every problem can be solved by bashing your head against it." That wasn't entirely fair, Edward could be quite devious and sneaky when he wanted to be, but he usually only resorted to that after his brute force techniques failed.

The young man squirmed further up the bed, then tipped his head again. "I'm sure making a bang-up impression, aren't I. Why aren't you mad at me? I'd be mad at me. I am mad at me."

Roy didn't have to ask what he was referring to. He set the book on his bedside table and smiled down at his lover, brushing the long bangs out of his face. "Maybe because I learned a long time ago that you're simply going to be who you're going to be, the rest of the world—including my mother—be damned." He couldn't say he was pleased, but getting mad at Edward for simply being Edward would be pointless.

Ed groaned and buried his face against the older man's hip. "I'm not exactly earning any gold stars here, though, am I?"

"If it makes you feel any better, I think she was more amused than anything else."

"So glad I could provide some amusement." He sighed, then finally pushed himself onto his back and looked up at the older man. "Al wants to take Winry shopping tomorrow, by the way, so we'll have the afternoon and probably some of the morning to ourselves."

"Just Al? I would have thought you'd want to spend more time with her before she left for Central. Or would that be unwise, after tonight?"

Edward rolled his eyes. "No, nothing like that. Being dragged around the shopping district so someone else can spend my money isn't my idea of a good time, that's all. Besides," he grinned, impishly, "Al wants to take her."

"Ah."

"So, anyway." He traced a finger along Roy's thigh, a gesture that was more familiar than suggestive. "I was thinking, since we have a good chunk of the day, maybe you and I could, y'know, go find somewhere that won't catch fire too easily." He glanced up and grinned again, gold eyes dancing. "I think I know a place that'll work, and it's not too far out of town."

Images from waking nightmares flashed across his vision at the thought of using his gloves, just as they had the other day before Ed had found him on base. He had been able to push past them then, for the first time in years, but it had been a struggle. Still, he couldn't help but smile back at his young lover's enthusiasm. "I think that sounds wonderful."