#paparoy

Roy just sighed and shook his head, eyeing the boy. He stepped up right behind him and took hold of his hair, undoing the tie.

“Hey…! What’s wrong with—I just did that!”

“You missed a couple of strands. Hold still.”

“Oh, and I suppose you can braid?”

“I can in fact; I’m a master.”

Ed bit back a comment and just sat still, feeling the tug in his hair as Roy worked it into a neat braid. He tied off the end wordlessly, then stepped back to observe his handiwork. Nodding to himself, he swept around to Ed’s front and looked the teen over.

“...What?”

“No, nothing,” Roy said with a gentle shake of his head. He took Ed’s chin and turned it one way, then the other, then stepped back and smoothed the shirt over his shoulders. “You just look very handsome today, is all. Ling is a lucky guy.”

If possible, Ed’s face went even redder, ducking his chin to his chest.

“He’ll be pleased that I took you shopping earlier, rather than letting you wear the garbage you normally wear.”

“H—hey! What’s wrong with what I normally wear?!? What, you don’t like my sense of style, don’t think I look good enough normally?!?”

“I think you look plenty good enough already, but the correct wardrobe can make someone absolutely shine, and I think we found what does it for you.”

Ed paused in his rant, mouth dropping open and face heating up so much he could fry an egg. After a moment he clicked his teeth shut and looked pointedly away, spitting out, “don’t say weird things.”

Roy chuckled and shook his head, then his eyes darted toward the front door, his interest piqued like an excitable pup, when the doorbell rang. As it rang a second time, Ed felt on a metaphysical level that both the very beginning and the very end of their relationship was about to occur, at least if Roy and his stupid, overprotective ass had anything to say about it.

Ling was here.

“You,” Roy said, snarling like a dog and pointing to the couch. “Sit. Now.”

“What?! No—don’t you dare say a word Mustang!!” Rather than do as asked, Ed instead lurched out of his chair and threw his arms around Roy’s waist, just as Roy was about to storm off to answer the door and probably banish Ling, Xingese Emperor or not, directly to Truth’s gate. He dug his heels into the floor and tried desperately to stop Roy from doing or saying anything more to further embarrass him.

Ling rang the doorbell a third time, the noise clearly souring Roy’s previously good mood and making that vein on his forehead stand out quite nicely. He started grumbling under his breath about patience and some people not having it (as if he was one to talk) and it took Ed’s absolute all to not just flop along behind him and be dragged along to witness the destruction of his newest relationship.

“IN A MINUTE!!!” He called instead, trying and failing to regain his footing. If Ling rang the doorbell a fourth time, then Ed knew for sure that if Ling himself wasn’t burnt to a crisp right on the spot, their relationship would be. The best way for this to succeed at all was for Ling to keep himself quiet, and hopefully avoid sticking his foot in his mouth.

Ed had always known that whomever he dated would have to be scrutinized by both Alphonse and Winry, but he never would have guessed that Mustang would have to appraise as well, and would apparently have the more critical eye.

Finally, Ed regained enough of his footing that he was actually able to sweep around Roy and put a stop to his rampage. Roy, apparently not wanting to run him over, halted in his storm but glared at the door.

“That’s not fair!!” Ed hissed, smacking his fist against Roy’s chest. “Stop!!”

Roy snorted like a bull but didn’t look away from the offending slab of wood.

“I conceded!” Ed snapped, stomping his foot like a child. “I agreed to let him pick me up from here, okay!! Because you wouldn’t shut up about it!! I let you help me and I appreciate it, I do, but it’s not fucking fair that you’re going to scare him off before I see him!! So BACK OFF and let me answer the DAMN DOOR!!”

Roy’s dark, scrutinizing eyes turned from the door down to Ed, then back up again. His eyes suddenly went soft in a way that Ed found more than slightly mortifying as he looked at Ed one more time, soft in the same way that Hughes was around his daughter. “...Okay,” he said, the throbbing vein slowly melting back into his head where it belonged. He stood himself up straight and dusted off his clothes, looking embarrassed at the slight show of emotion. “Fine. Answer the door. However, I am saying my piece before you leave, and if he decides to be an uncooperative little fuckwad, you’re not leaving this house.”

“You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not my boss or my legal guardian anymore.”

Roy ground his teeth with a noise that made Ed twinge at the thought of it. “Not. Leaving. This. House.”

Ed rolled his eyes and turned away, eyeing Roy as if waiting to see if he would attempt to upstage Ed again and get to the door first. Roy didn’t move even a muscle.

“Ling!” he cheered when he threw open the door, slapping on a smile that he felt deep in his soul. God, he was excited. He had been talking about it all week. Even if his stomach was in knots and even though he didn’t know what dates were supposed to be like or how boyfriends were supposed to act with their boyfriends, he still shook with excitement and couldn’t believe that this was really happening.

“Hey, Edward,” Ling said, somehow calm and casual even though he was definitely almost never that. Ed had a feeling that he’d been on his fair share of dates; that, or it came from living the life of a prince. “Are you ready t—“

Ed furrowed his brows when Ling paled and appeared to stop breathing. He peered around, and only thought to glance over his shoulder when he noticed that Ling’s eyes were going over his head.

Ahh yes, he’d forgotten that Roy was apparently a gorgon, and could turn the people he didn’t like to stone if they met eyes.

“Stop it!” he snapped, so Roy averted his gaze and released Ling from his spell. Roy cleared his throat and curled his finger, looking right at Ling. “Both of you in here, this instant.”

“Don’t,” Ed begged to no avail. Ling appeared to have forgotten that he was in fact the emperor of a huge nation and could make Roy bow to his will if he so wished. Appeared to have forgotten that he probably had at least two ninja bodyguards tracking his every move.

“You will be an absolute gentleman,” Roy said without even a hello. He crossed his arms in front of his chest and flared his nostrils, showing off the stars and stripes pinned to his uniform to make himself as intimidating as possible. “You will try nothing. Whatever you may try is only done with his full, uncoerced consent. As soon as he gives the inkling of a ‘no’, you back off, am I clear?”

Ed glanced over at Ling, noting with dread the expression on his face. It was a mix of “I have no idea why this is happening” and “if I look away even for a second I Will Die”, and Ed doubted that a second date was in the near future.

“Y-yes, sir,” Ling managed to stutter.

“He is home by eleven, and not even a second later. If he is, I wouldn’t expect to wake up tomorrow.”

“Must—“ Ed snapped, eyes darting around for ninja warriors prepared to cut out Roy’s throat. Was that not a threat made on the emperor’s life?

“And if he comes home hurt at all, if he manages to get himself a papercut or he is in anyway out of place, I will gut you. Gut you.”

“Y-yes sir,” Ling stammered again, and Ed was pretty sure he had lost all conscious thought.

Roy looked down on them, down the bridge of his nose, looking like he was attempting to set Ling on fire with his eyes. Ed felt as if he had already set him ablaze, his face was so hot. This would never end. It would never end. This was the rest of—

“Good,” Roy said, nodding hard. He turned suddenly soft eyes on Ed, scrutinizing him, then brushed his bangs back affectionately. Ed tried to strike him, but Roy was apparently too quick. “I’ll pick you up if you need me to. Don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything. I’ll be waiting up. Then I’ll take you back to the hotel.”

“Well, sir,” Ling interjected, apparently attempting to get on Roy’s good side and failing miserably. “If you’d like, we can just drop him off at his hotel, it’s no—“ Ling was cut off as Roy’s expression took on that of a dragon he was so often compared to, furious, greedy, protective of his things. “O-or we’ll drop him off here, that’s fine too.”

Roy breathed out a sudden puff of smoke, like he really was a fire breather, then instantly calmed himself. “Call me.”

“Won’t need to. But—if I do, I will.”

Roy nodded, then finally released them from the prison of absolute humiliation. “Fine then. Go on, have fun. But—“ his eyes darkened into a furious glare, “not too much fun.”

Ling laughed nervously and nodded, saluting like he feared that Roy would roast him if he didn’t show the utmost respect, which probably wasn't too far from the truth. “We won’t, sir.”

Roy watched them go, and even as Ed forcefully closed the door, he could feel Roy’s glare prickling along the back of his neck. He was afraid to turn around, afraid to already see Roy glaring at them from the upstairs bedroom.

“I am so sorry,” Ed begged, mortified. “I never thought he’d actually pull that shit. I promise, I’m not like that.”

Ling laughed, although Ed saw a hint of disbelief in his eyes and Ed knew he didn’t believe him. “It’s fine, really. He’s quite a—hmm—a character, I guess?”

“He’s normally an asshole, but not that big of an asshole,” Ed grumbled.

“I really don’t mind. Besides. If he’s that protective of you, you must be quite the catch, don’t you agree?” Ling fluttered his eyelashes and grabbed for his right hand, bringing it to his mouth to scatter kisses along the knuckles of his newly flesh fingers in a way that made Ed go beet red.

Ed took his hand back and held them both behind his back, not used to anything like that. “...Don’t say weird things.”

Again, Ling laughed and cooed, “as you wish. Well, shall we get going? I’ve got quite the night planned for us.”

——

When Ed arrived back at Mustang’s, at precisely 10:59 which was perfectly on time, Ed found himself wanting to fling himself through the door, perform a perfect pirouette, and collapse onto the couch and come down off of an emotional high he hadn’t even been close to since they returned home to Resembool.

They hadn't kissed. Not on the mouth. Ed wasn’t okay with that sort of intimacy quite yet, but Ling had kissed his cheek as close to his mouth as he dared, then wished him sweet dreams, and Ed feared he may have been falling in love. He wanted to dance on the rooftops and yell it to the whole world, that he had had the best date ever and he, Edward Elric, he was in love!

He wanted to tell Roy all about it.

Despite Roy absolutely mortifying and humiliating him, Ling had taken it in stride, somehow turned it into a compliment for Ed, and now Ed wanted to tell Roy about everything. About the dinner. The drive there. The walk to the park. The fireworks. The way that Ling looked and smelled and moved, everything about him was perfect and according to his still-emotionally-high brain, Roy had to know every single bit of it.

At least, Roy did, until Ed walked into the living room. Ed instantly sobered.

Because there was Roy, sat in his armchair right beside the phone. There was paperwork strewn on the end table, some falling loose from his hand to strew across the floor. He was fast asleep, practically drooling all over himself, waiting for Ed’s call. Just as he’d said. Well—almost as he said.

But he had waited up for Ed to come home, to make sure that he was safe and could enjoy his date in peace.

That ride back to the hotel wasn’t happening.

Ed could shake him awake and ask him to bring him home, but he didn’t. He could step outside and see if Ling was still outside, to give him a ride back, but he didn’t.

No. Roy had tried to wait up for him, in case there was any trouble at all, and Ed decided that the worry he would get if he went back to the hotel just wasn’t worth it. He could crash on Mustang’s couch until morning; Mustang clearly wasn’t using it.

He called the hotel to let Al know that he wouldn't be home until morning. When he hung up, he dragged the blanket from the back of the couch and tossed it over Mustang. Then he grabbed a spare and spread out on the couch, closing his eyes and listening in to the soft, gentle, soothing sound of someone else breathing in the same room he was sleeping in.

Ed didn’t even seem to notice. He didn’t notice Roy’s hand moving up, he didn’t notice Roy’s abrupt freeze after Ed flinched, just kept talking talking talking about his amazing kids.

But Roy noticed. Oh, Roy had noticed.

And he knew, deep in his heart, that that one foolish action in an alleyway nearly ten years ago was going to come back to haunt him.

He wouldn’t say that it had been an accident, way back then, because really it hadn’t been. He’d been caught in a mix of swirling emotions, at the loss of his best friend, at the sharp and immediate desire for revenge, the sharp and hurting anger that Ed was going to walk into the scene and mess everything up…

But Ed had kept yelling. Things like “and why didn’t you say anything?!”. And he had gotten madder and madder and yes technically he had just killed someone but why, why did Ed have to be so fucking naive, why couldn’t he understand that Ross wasn’t dead and that he needed to get back he was going to ruin everything.

It had happened before Roy had known it. One minute, Ed’s hands were twisted in his collar, yanking their faces close so he could continue yelling, to try and understand.

The next minute, Roy’s fist was swung to the far side, his knuckles were stinging, and Ed was thrown to the ground with a throbbing mark on his cheek going swiftly red.

He had punched him.

Across the face.

A fifteen-year-old boy. The same one who Roy now, and maybe even a little bit back then, thought of like a son.

You heartless bastard.

This wasn’t the first thing he’d done wrong in his life, and it certainly wasn’t the worst thing he’d ever done. But there was still such a strong bite of disgust, that he had caused Ed to hurt, that he had let his emotion get to him and had thrown him to the ground as if he were trash. He was horrified with himself, disgusted with himself.

He scared himself.

He was almost afraid of being alone around the Elric children. Afraid that one day, one of them would tick him off just enough, and he’d throw one of the little ones, these little ones he really absolutely adored, to the ground as if they were nothing, he’d hurt them, break them, kill them.

Hurt them, just like he had hurt their father no more than ten years ago.

But, Ed didn’t even seem to notice. He didn’t even seem to remember.

Honestly, Roy wouldn’t have been surprised if Ed didn’t remember. Roy knew that Ed suffered PTSD like no one’s business, had known it since not long after Ed joined the military when he had a panic attack in the middle of the mess. He was constantly flinching at things, shying from hurt, skirting around topics that would make a grown man panic from the mere thought. Winry had once called, saying that Ed was suffering from them more and she didn’t know what to do. As far as reactions go, this was extremely mild. It was almost a relief. And yet….

Yet, Roy was still in that category of “things that Edward Elric shied away from”. Whether he was at the bottom of the list or the top didn’t matter. That he was on the list at all was inexcusable.

Ed didn’t notice Roy’s hesitation. He had jumped headlong into another story about Thom attempting to teach Trisha how to talk ages ago, not noticing his ex-superior’s shame and humiliation.

Again, just as he had before, Roy acted without realizing it. This time, it was with a far gentler hand, one that shook weakly with the desire to express apologies his mouth just couldn’t say. He reached his nervous hand forward, nestling it softly on the top of Ed’s head.

Ed finally stopped talking, surprise flickering in his golden gaze. He stopped and stared at Roy, only for a moment.

As Ed fell silent, Roy’s hand dropped a little to cup the base of his braid. His thumb ran over soft golden strands, as if soothing a hurt that Ed no longer felt.

“...Colonel?”

I don’t deserve you.

Roy didn’t correct Ed for once, didn’t speak even a word. He knew that, similarly as lieutenant was with Hawkeye, the rank of ‘colonel’ was practically synonymous with ‘friend’, or even better yet, Dad. He knew that if Ed ever called him General, then Ed was royally pissed off at something. He’d become so used to Roy’s old rank that it had become synonymous with bastard which, in turn, was in a way synonymous with dad.

Roy tugged gently, and Ed hadn’t been expecting it, so he stumbled and went along with it. He stared blankly at Roy’s shirt when Ed found his forehead pressing against Roy’s uniform.

I’m so sorry.

Even though Ed didn’t hear him say anything, all he had to do was look up at him, see the ceaseless remorse in his eyes, and know, or at least have an idea, what Roy was trying to do.

“...It’s okay,” he mumbled under his breath, trying unsuccessfully to work his way out of the half-embrace. “I’m fine, and it’s okay.” And he meant it. It really was okay, and Roy knew it was okay. Roy knew that Ed didn’t really care about one little punch in the middle of an emotional night. That didn’t make what Roy had done right. Not at all. He was supposed to protect Edward, protect all the Elrics, but all he’d done was bring him pain.

What sort of person, what sort of almost-father, did that to his almost-son?

Rather than respond, Roy drew his other arm around Ed, embracing him fully as if that could express his sorrow even more.

Ed hitched a quiet breath as he was scootched closer, then sighed and planted his face in Roy’s uniform coat. At least, he figured, it was warm here. He lifted his arms and put them around Roy, hugging back. Neither he nor Roy were much for hugging, and both were fully aware of that. But this time… this was different.

“It’s okay now, colonel,” Ed said softly. “I know you’d never hurt my kids or Winry, or me or Al unless we’re sparring—“ which didn’t happen often, but Ed claimed that Roy “needed to stay in shape” and fighting a physical combatant with and without alchemy was the best way to do it. “I trust you with them. And if even I trust you with them—“ knowing all my trust issues, knowing how hard it is for me to trust anyone but a few with my family, went without saying, but Roy heard it all the same— “then maybe you should lighten up on yourself. Seriously. It was ten years ago, and I’m pretty sure I deserved it. I normally did when you yelled at me.”

Roy sighed pitifully and lifted his chin to plant it in Ed’s hair. Not an easy feat, considering Ed had actually grown in so many years and was nearly taller (taller!) than Roy was.

“No,” he said softly, gentle affection for the young man he loved like a son dancing about in his eyes. Really, trying to make Roy feel better when all Roy had done for him was bring him grief. Really. “You may have deserved to get yelled at, but you never deserved to get punched. Not… not then. I should have kept my head better, and you got hurt because of it, and I'm sorry.”

Ed sighed and slumped forward, forehead planting to his shoulder. He had not been prepared for this type and this level of emotions today.

Trust Mustang to ruin the fun.

“Moron.”

Dad.

“You might have been…. Might have been stupid about it, but you stayed. And that’s more than a lot of people can say.”

“Staying is hardly—”

“You stayed,” Ed snapped over his interruption, just about lifting his forehead to smack it against Roy’s shoulder in punishment. “And that’s enough. So shut up, bastard. Apology accepted.”

Bonus:

“Mommy,” Thom said, peeking into the doorway to the general’s office. “What are Daddy and Grandpa doing?”

Sarah peeked around Thom into the office, eyebrows bunching up when she saw that her daddy was standing in her grandpa’s arms.

Mommy glanced away from Grandma just in time to see that they were apparently about to interrupt a moment between Daddy and Grandpa. She grabbed Sarah’s arm and hauled her back, then called Thom back to her side. Grandma hooked her heel around Sarah to pull her back a little further, holding baby Trisha to her side.

“It looks like Daddy and Grandpa are having a good talk, Thom,” said Mommy softly, messing up his tawny hair. “Why don’t we leave them alone for a little bit.”

“I wanna talk with grandpa!” Sarah cheered. She wanted to talk especially if it meant getting big grandpa hugs like that.

“You can talk after Daddy is finished,” said Mommy, steering them away. “For now, maybe we should go see if we can find Uncle Heymans, don’t you think? I bet he has some fun new stories to tell.”

Sarah looked up at Trisha and Grandma, smiling a big smile when Grandma extended her hand down to her. “Okay! Uncle Heymans has the best stories!” she reported cheerfully, taking Grandma’s hand and happily letting her steer her away.

Besides, for Fullmetal, two days wasn't all that long a time. Sure, he had been expected to show up the following morning to be debriefed on a new case, and didn't. Sadly, Mustang actually had a lead for the boys, a good one if he had looked into it right, and it was still waiting on his desk for Fullmetal to show up for it… but that meant he had to stop in for it, first.

And Mustang knew, in his heart, that there wasn't anything wrong with Ed. He was just being a pissy little brat; he knew that Mustang was right but wasn't about to admit to it, so he just avoided him altogether. He knew that…

So he didn’t worry. Well, not really. Maybe only a little. And that worry was quickly masked by anger… but no one had to know what it really was. Right?

“Sir?”

Mustang glanced over at his subordinate as they drove to the scene of the latest dump. The case was simply becoming too big for Investigations to handle on their own, and Hughes, being Mustang’s best friend, had cheerfully enlisted the help of an already over-worked colonel and his team. If taking part in the investigation and, if he was lucky, being the one to catch the killer or at least the one to organize it wouldn’t be a huge boost in his career, he would have laughed in Hughes’ face and walked backwards out of the room, middle fingers flying. Unfortunately, it was, so he just had to grumble and suck it up.

“What?”

“Are you alright?” Hawkeye asked knowingly, not even casting him a spare glance. In that way, she and Mustang were total opposites. She never took her eyes off the road… and Mustang never really had his eyes on the road in the first place.

“Fine,” Mustang said, waving his hand. “I haven’t been sleeping well, is all, and would much rather be at home, in bed.”

“It’s two in the afternoon,” Hawkeye said with no inflection in her voice, just stating a fact.

“The time of day does not, in fact, change how much I don’t want to be here.”

Hawkeye rolled her eyes lightly and turned down the next corner. “Yes. Well. As soon as we’re finished here and you finish the paperwork on the corner of your desk, I think you should be fine to go home.”

Mustang grumbled about the paperwork, but didn't comment further as they came across a line of police tape. Hawkeye parked the car and stepped out, and Mustang let himself out.

Well. Time to get down to business.

They were being called out because the sixth body had just been discovered and ID’d. A six-year-old girl by the name of Evelyn Jackson, who had disappeared just over two days ago just outside of the local public school, had been taken, supposedly tortured, killed, and then had her body dumped not two miles from her own home. And they were being called to glean from her as much information as they could. The more they could get from her, the closer they were to putting a stop to the psychopath responsible.

All of the officers on scene stopped and saluted Mustang as he approached. They were briefed of the situation—body found just outside of a dumpster, found by early morning joggers who were off to the side speaking with an officer, the mother had been contacted earlier and was seated in a police car, trying to recover so she could talk next.

Hawkeye touched Mustang’s arm, and he glanced her way. “If you’ll take a look at the body, i’ll speak with the mother.”

He nodded, and she went off. That was best. She was better at speaking with family and friends of victims, anyway.

Mustang stepped over to where a white sheet was draped over the ground, covering the body. The officer who had briefed them continued speaking with him, about speculations and witnesses and next steps, but Mustang shooed him off.

He pulled off the sheet near the girl’s face. This little girl previously had delicate features, very round cheeks, and very long, blond hair. Her eyes were closed as if in sleep, but her body didn't move.

Poor thing. She had had her life taken from her before it had really even begun.

Then, something moved, and his eyes darted back up to hers. Golden eyes stared back at him and he flinched hard, one name shooting into his mind out of nowhere.

...Ed…?

He squeezed his eyes shut and looked back to her. Her eyes were closed still, she hadn't moved a muscle. So… he was seeing things? He even went so far as to bring a hand to her face and lift an eyelid, revealing dull, hazel eyes. No, definitely not golden. What had he seen?

Or, perhaps, why had he seen Ed?

He looked this little girl over with a new eye. Her blond hair was nearly the same shade as Ed’s (closer to Winry’s, really), and though it was braided, it was braided in two. She had striking bangs similar to Ed’s, though not quite as shocking. Her nose was similar to his, now that he noticed, and she looked maybe a little grown for her age, whereas Ed was a little shrunk. That still didn't put them at the same height… but it was certainly closer. She looked… a lot more like Ed than he was suddenly comfortable with.

His stomach knotted.

It was only after he had made these observations that he noticed her injuries. Her face was injured minimally, but both arms appeared broken and her ankle was twisted. She was completely naked, blood coating her all around. She had multiple stab wounds in her chest, likely what she died from. The poor thing…

And then, for just a moment, it was Ed again, not Evelyn, and he flinched hard and dropped the sheet back over her.

What was he seeing? Why on earth did he keep seeing Fullmetal in place of Evelyn? So he hadn't seen Fullmetal in two days. It wasn't uncommon.

Evelyn was gone for two days. Look what happened to her in that time.

He covered his mouth and wisely chose not to look again.

“Sir?”

Mustang looked up, noticing Hawkeye standing behind him. Beside her was a woman with the same green eyes that he had peeked at—this was Evelyn’s mother.

“Mrs Jackson would like to speak with you, sir.”

Mustang nodded and stood, cleared his throat, and acknowledged the aching mother. “I’m sorry for your loss, ma’am,” he said to start, hoping to put her at ease, “we’re going to do everything we can to find the one who has done this.”

Mrs Jackson sniffled and nodded, looked far from the sheet at Mustang’s feet, and took a deep breath. “I know. I just wish you could have stopped them before Evelyn got mixed into this.”

Mustang and Hawkeye nodded solemnly. “So do we,” Hawkeye consoled softly. “We can't do anything for her now, but we will bring her justice.” It wasn't the same, they both knew, but it was closer than doing and giving nothing at all.

Mrs Jackson nodded briefly again and closed her eyes. She fought off another round of tears, looked to the clouds and blinking rapidly. “She was just a little girl, just a baby. She was probably the sweetest thing you’ll ever meet. I just…” she swallowed and took a deep breath, then squeaked out, “I c-can't believe she’s gone…”

“Ma’am,” said Hawkeye softly, hoping to stem the tears. “You said you wanted to speak with my commanding officer.”

Mrs Jackson nodded and took another huge breath. She stared at the sky for a few moments longer, then turned her head back down to look the military officers straight in the eyes.

“There was a man. I saw him hanging around her for a few days. I didn’t think anything of it because Evelyn didn’t mind, she seemed to like talking to him, but I do remember him showing up out of nowhere.”

“And then this asshole turns up from outta nowhere and—what? I dunno. I saw him. He followed me a little, then he left. You wanted this report, didn’t you? Stop asking questions!!”

“What did he look like?” Hawkeye asked softly, hoping to get as much information from her as possible. This was the first they’d heard of a possible stalker.

Mustang looked back down, to the little body, when Mrs Jackson spoke briefly with Hawkeye. How anyone could do this, and to such a young person… it was far beyond him.

“Colonel?”

He paused, blinked, looked around. Mrs Jackson was still giving her description, and Hawkeye was listening intently, not even paying him a shred of attention. So where had that come from?

“Colonel? Please? Please help?”

...Evelyn…? He looked down to the body, flinching hard when he saw the sheet removed, and the body sitting up.

Except… that definitely wasn’t Evelyn.

“Colonel?” wondered what had to be an illusion of Edward, blinking at him with huge golden eyes. He had the same bruises and marks as Evelyn’s body had. Like the same thing had happened to him. “Colonel, can’t you help me? I’m scared.”

“Ed…?” Mustang wondered, forgetting to silence himself and completely forgetting to look up when Mrs Jackson and Hawkeye paused and looked to him.

A lot can happen in two days. Look at what happened to Evelyn in two days.

“You haven’t seen me in two days, colonel. What if something is wrong?”

He felt his gorge rise quickly, cutting off his breath for a moment and blurring the world around him.

The last time he had seen Ed, they had gotten into a worse argument than usual. All that he wanted was for the kid to stop being a punk-ass snot nosed little brat and listen to him for once. The last place he had been… well, he’d nearly pulled a building down on top of him. And Mustang simply wouldn’t stand for another incident like that to occur, wouldn’t stand for Ed to put himself and his brother in danger like that again. It was too risky, too dangerous… and maybe he had gotten a little emotional. And maybe Ed, hotheaded as he was, had gotten emotional in return.

Ed had stormed out of the office and slammed both doors behind him, then disappeared. He refused to come to the office, even though Mustang had summoned him just before being called here.

A lot

can happen

“Ed?”

in two days

colonel

where

am

I?

Evelyn was gone. She was gone entirely and Ed looked up at him. Metal arm, metal leg. Long bangs, one braid, that ridiculous antenna that Mustang had on multiple occasions attempted to smooth down. And those eyes, those goddamn golden incriminating eyes looking up at him, looking at him saying “you see me now, colonel, you see me now but where am I colonel you haven’t seen me in days where. am. I.”

“Colonel?” said a voice to the side, and this one didn’t sound like Ed so he couldn’t stand to hear it he couldn’t stand to miss a word of what Ed said, if Ed was trying to lead him to him and he missed something important just trying to listen to this other voice then what would he do, what would he say?

Mrs Jackson claimed to identify the body but did she know? She didn’t, she couldn’t know, she was stricken with worry and just wanted to know where her daughter was, but that didn’t mean that Mustang could let her misidentify Ed. Couldn’t she tell? Couldn’t she see that Ed was looking right at him with his gold eyes that no one shared and his hair was in one braid, not two like she thought, she was just confused couldn’t she see couldn’t she tell when a little boy laid flat out dead on the ground dead dead dead dead because Mustang couldn’t so much as keep his temper down long enough to warn Ed that he was apparently in huge danger.

He’s gone because of you, Roy Mustang!! He’s gone because of you!!! How will you look Alphonse in the face now, knowing that you are the sole cause of his brother’s death? YOU brought them into this, YOU chased them off and now he’s dead he’s gone he’s been tortured because of YOU.

He swallowed and took a huge breath, looking down at his youngest subordinate with stricken eyes. Perhaps that was the worst part. He could see it happening right before his very eyes because parts of him always wondered what sorts of horrible things could happen while the boys were away. But now, now they were supposed to be safe and sound in Mustang’s own backyard, and Ed was killed.

Like a flashback, horrible imaginings of poor Edward flashed through his mind, of Edward being beaten, being tortured, being hurt, begging and pleading for him, desperate for someone to find him and waiting just waiting for Mustang to put two and two together and just get to him.

And then, to top it all off, the blurred face of his torturer warped and twisted and became Roy, yelling at the injured body, screaming at him because of his last mission, screaming at him to “LOOK ME IN THE EYES WHEN I’M TALKING TO YOU.”

If I can get to you in time, he thought, panic swirling in his belly and constricting his heart like a snake, I will never let you leave on a note like that again. Just tell me where you are.

“I can’t colonel. I don’t know. Please, I need you…”

“I know, I’ll find you…”

“Colonel!”

Roy was jolted from his head when he felt a sharp pinch on his arm. He looked to the person beside him, and at first they were blond with earthy eyes and his heart relaxed because Ed was safe, but then he realized that most definitely was not Ed, that was definitely Hawkeye and she looked more than a little startled at him.

She glanced back and forth, between Mustang and Mrs Jackson, who also did decidedly not looked pleased with him and looked more than a little miffed that he wasn’t paying her nearly as much attention as he should be.

Mustang didn’t have an explanation for her, not a word, because when he glanced back down to where Ed’s body had been, it definitely wasn’t sitting up, and it was definitely smaller than Ed, and almost certainly, it in fact was not Ed at all.

Still his heart pounded like he’d run a marathon and worry still ran about his brain nonstop and he feared, he feared so greatly what had happened to Ed that he thought he might be sick. After all, whether the body was Ed’s or not, he still hadn’t seen him in two days.

“We’ll be just a moment,” said Hawkeye to Mrs Jackson, clipped and anxious. She took Mustang’s elbow and dragged him off like a misbehaving child so they could stand out of the way and not be heard.

“Lieu—”

“What on earth was that about?” Hawkeye demanded, making him feel exactly like the child she had treated him as. “She just lost her child and you can’t even stand to pay her a smidgen of attention?! Well?!?”

“...Did you notice how much her little girl looks like Fullmetal?” he said, because it was the only explanation he had.

“...What?”

“The body. I pulled back the sheet to get an idea of what had happened to her. She looked like Ed.”

Hawkeye deflated momentarily, squeezing the bridge of her nose.

“I haven’t seen Ed in two days.”

And Hawkeye knew that was precisely how long it took Evelyn to show up dead, and every other child who disappeared. She looked to the ground, and Mustang knew that fact was running about her brain.

“...Ed’s fine,” she said, although Mustang could now hear a spot of worry in her voice. “He can take care of himself. Besides, he’s got Alphonse with him.”

Alphonse. Mustang had almost forgotten about Alphonse! He was so quiet compared to how loud and obnoxious his brother was, he was easy to overlook despite the suit of armor. And Alphonse… Alphonse looked like an adult. And only a fool, only an idiot would actually take away a child who was under the watchful eyes of a supposed adult, especially one as imposing as Al was. The fact that he was actually a boy younger than Ed was disguised by his hulking metal mass and the fact that he would murder anyone who did his brother wrong.

“Call him, when we’re done here. If it’s worrying you so much, call him and talk to him,” Hawkeye continued, looking sage. “Tell him what’s going on and what to look out for, and then find this guy. The very best way you can protect Edward, is to find the man that’s doing this and stop him. And our best chance is right over there.” She pointed to Mrs Jackson, who was staring down at her sheet-covered daughter. “If you want to protect Edward, and I know you do, you’ll bite down and find him.”

Mustang looked back toward the body, and then toward the mother, and found himself fearing being in her position. Standing over the body of her own child, one she couldn't protect no matter how much she wanted to.

Hawkeye nodded, knowing she had gotten through, and said, “come on, no one will be a better help than her.”

They approached her again, and she looked up, shooting them weak glares but not looking uncooperative.

First, Mustang nodded at her, fabricating a quick lie in his head. “My apologies, ma’am. I have not seen any of the other victims yet, and I was not expecting such gruesome acts done to a child.” The lie was one that anyone could see through, anyone with sense, but he hoped her grief and fear would let her believe him. He had, after all, seen the photographs of each and every victim, as well as the bodies of the last two.

She stared at him for a small time, furrowed her brows, and nodded. “...Yes, I understand,” she said softly, looking to the body again for a fraction of a second and shuddering fiercely. She turned back to Hawkeye when Hawkeye asked her to continue, and she went back to her explanation.

I am sorry. He really was. Sorry that he couldn’t focus on what he really, really needed to. I’m sorry that your daughter looks so much like my son. I’m sorry that I don’t know where he is. I’m sorry that I need to focus on you, and all I can think of is EdEdEdEdEd…

When they arrived back at the office, Mustang ignored all his paperwork and went right for the phone. The first place he called was the library, because the boys spent most of their time here in East City on base, at the library, or in the dorms.

“No, sorry, colonel,” said the woman on the other end, a mousy old someone with a nasally voice. “They actually haven’t been by all day.”

His heart thudded a little harder in his throat as he hung up and dialed the number to the dorms. They hadn’t been to the library all day?!

A lot can happen in two days...

“Military barracks building two.”

“Put Edward Elric on,” he said without an explanation, distracting his nerves with the cord.

“...Ahh, I’m afraid they’re not in right now.”

Not in!!! How were the Elric brothers ‘not in’?! Where else was there to go in Easy City?! And they knew, damn well, that if they wanted to go anywhere outside of East City, they were to inform him first!

A lot can happen in two days…

Colonel where am I? What if he’s got me too… you’ll never see me again, and the very last thing you did was tell me off about the transmutation. Did you think I didn't already know I did wrong? Do you think I need to know that someone that I look up to thinks that I’m a fool and a failure for my biggest mistake? That even he knows that I’ll never accomplish my goals?

And now now I can’t colonel now I can’t because I’m gone and I’m going to end up just like Evelyn just like Evelyn you’ll find me colonel I know you will because he’s going to dump me someplace you’re certain to find me just outside of work he’ll dump me and I’ll be beaten tortured scarred killed killed killed killed and it’ll be all your fault all your fault colonel

“...Sir…?” asked a hesitant voice on the other end of the line, and Mustang suddenly realized he must have been lost in swirling thoughts for longer than was generally acceptable. “Sir, I think they just stepped out to grab something to eat. They’ll be back within the hour. I can take a message if you’d like.”

“...Yes,” he said when his throat loosened enough to breathe. He saw them only recently! “Just tell them that Colonel Mustang has summoned them as soon as they get back. Thank you.” And he hung up.

The following hour and a half was filled with probably the most production that Mustang had had all week, but his nerves kept him seated at his desk, fearing he’d miss them if they came around when he was gone, and at least the repetitive motion of filling out paperwork kept his mind from wandering back to what had become a near constant mantra of a lot can happen in two days. Hawkeye would be impressed. He didn’t have the focus to care.

Finally, approximately ninety-three-and-a-half minutes later, his door creaked open, and a hulking suit of armor peeked in.

“...Colonel? Did you want to see us?”

Mustang’s eyes roamed over Alphonse first because he was the one who stepped in, looking for any dents or dings that might indicate he had seen something or done something less than pleasant, but Al appeared to be in perfect condition. He looked a small amount confused, considering it was well past the normal work hour.

Just outside of the door, there was a voice that calmed each and every one of his nerves, whining nasally, “I don’t want to talk to him!” He sounded a little stuffed up—maybe he had fallen ill? That might explain why he hadn’t come in in two days.

“Brother,” Al scolded, stepping fully into the room just in time to avoid the door suddenly swinging open swiftly.

“What do you want,” said Edward, sounding wholly uninterested.

As soon as Ed stepped in, Mustang practically felt himself melt with relief. He was okay. He really and truly was. All of the marks that had suddenly appeared on illusion-Edward’s tanned skin were blissfully absent on this one. His eyes were clear and his hair shone with health, and though he appeared a little pale as if he was just recovering from a cold, he seemed to be right as rain.

“Where have you been?” Mustang demanded, putting on his stern colonel face to hide the fleeing fear. “I’ve been trying to contact you for two days, Fullmetal. When I summon you, you come.”

Ed glared at him and sniffed mightily. “Whatever, colonel. I just got a little sick and didn’t want your face to make me feel worse.”

“Well. If that’s the case, you should have called and said so.” Instead of scaring me half to death.

“Tch.” Ed tossed his head to the side, looking every bit like the sodden teenager he was, and ground out, “Whatever, sorry. What did you want?”

As if Mustang had a legitimate reason, anymore, for getting Ed and Al in here, besides to look at them, look them in the face and see that they were okay, alive, and well.

“Just… wanted to let you know. There’s been a serial killer running around of late. Got ahold of six kids now, and has made a real fool of Investigations, so it’s been assigned to us.”

“What, and you need my help to crack it now?”

“...Yeah.”

“Ha!” Ed crowed, throwing his head back like it was the best joke he’d heard all week. “Ha! The ‘Great Lame Alchemist’ needs my help to crack a case! Well, it’s gonna cost you!”

Mustang scowled, momentarily forgetting why on earth he had worried so much, then sighed. He had definitely noticed that Ed had left off the ‘F’ in a certain title of his. “Fine. You help with this case, then I’ll have a real mission for you.”

That shut Ed up real quick, eyes flickering over his desk, looking for the new mission. “You have something?”

“Maybe. Wouldn’t you like to help us save a couple kids, first?”

Ed frowned and looked back to his armor-laden brother, then nodded. “...Yeah, sure. What do I need to know?”

Mustang pulled out the sheet that Hawkeye had jotted down the stalker’s description on. “He tends to strike sometime in the morning, around school time. He follows kids for a little while, we’re estimating three days to get an idea of a schedule. Then he takes them on their way to school.”

“How many did you say he got?”

“Six. In a month. We want to get this guy before he gets a seventh.” Before you become that seventh. He mentally shook that thought away. Ed was here. He was okay. He was alive. And Mustang would do whatever he could to keep it that way.

“Six,” Al said with a touch of horror. Ed let out a low, nervous whistle. “So we have to catch this guy fast.”

“Faster than fast. Think you can do it?”

Ed gave a gleeful, intense little smirk. “Hell yeah. Who am I looking for?”

Mustang listed off the description Mrs Jackson could give him down to the smallest detail. He knew that Ed thought he was giving the description so Ed knew what to look for… but he also gave it so Ed knew what to look out for. Just because this last body hadn’t been Ed’s, didn’t mean that the next one couldn’t be Ed’s. And it didn’t mean that Ed shouldn’t be wary, wasn’t in danger. Yes, Ed could take care of himself—he was a fourteen-year-old in the military, after all—but Mustang figured he was always better safe than sorry.

Ed promptly turned to leave, saying something about heading back to bed to sleep the next day away, and Al quietly followed after him, shaking his head. “Night, colonel,” Al said, and Ed lazily lifted a hand to wave.

“Boys?”

Ed groaned loudly and rolled his head back to look at his commander, starting when he noticed the intensity in his eyes. “What?”

“Be careful out there, alright? This guy is dangerous.”

Because I really can’t stand the thought of losing you, apparently. I know that now.

“And this mission is waiting for you when you crack it.”

Ed lifted his brows into his hairline, clearly startled by Mustang’s rather forward request. He looked back at Mustang, didn’t see the hours of stress, didn’t see how scared he had been for far too long, didn’t see the body of a little girl that looked just like him. Only saw the mask fall back into place, although for once he didn’t seem to mind it. He frowned, looked to his brother, then turned back to the door. “Yeah, whatever, Colonel Bastard, we’ll be back tomorrow with the killer in hand!” He marched out loudly, like a little squad all on his own, Al following with a wave much quieter behind him.

With the boys gone, Mustang allowed himself a moment to slump back in his seat, relief coursing through him like a wave. At least, it seemed, Ed was no longer so mad with him as he had been two days ago. And that made him smile. Maybe he would heed his advice and actually take care of himself and be a little more careful in the future.

There was a sudden clatter down the hall that nearly propelled Mustang right from his seat, a loud curse, and then Alphonse’s tinny voice called, “Brother!!” For a moment, just a moment, Mustang’s heart beat at double time, thinking somehow the killer had gotten into the base and got ahold of Ed right there, until he heard Ed grumpily say, “I’m fine, Al, I’m fine,” and march off with probably a little more care in mind.

Mustang laughed to himself and settled back into his chair. Okay, maybe he wouldn’t heed his advice, not even ten seconds into the future. What more could he expect from the stubborn Fullmetal Alchemist?

As long as he was safe. As long as he stayed safe, whether it was through Al’s watchful eyes, Mustang’s, or someone else’s, all would be well. If he stayed safe until the end of it all, until Al had his body back and those boys were happily at home in Resembool no longer with a care in the world, then Mustang’s job was done.