Chapter Text
When Havoc arrives, he brings hand-knitted sweaters from Gracia, a crayon drawing from Elicia, and packages that just arrived at the Xingese embassy last week, addressed to each of the Elric brothers. Alphonse almost cries when he opens the carefully wrapped lacquer box, inlaid with a pair of enamel cats — one black and white, one yellow. Nestled inside is a set of ten steel shuriken, the very first tools of his alkahestry practice.
“I can’t wait to practice with these!” he says, their sharp light reflecting in his eyes. Havoc chuckles as he accepts a cup of coffee from Granny Pinako.
“You ever play darts? I’ll challenge you to a match, see where your baseline is.”
Edward hefts a bamboo scroll case in his hands, the surface engraved with an intricate Xingese mountainscape. Inside is a handwritten letter from Ling, his Amestrian penmanship leagues ahead of Edward’s. He gives it a quick skim, blushes, and then stuffs the (very expensive) paper back inside its case. Havoc raises one blond eyebrow at him.
“What’s that about? Love letter from someone in Xing?”
“As if!” splutters Edward. “Ling just wanted me to know he’s got my back, and to send him a telegram if I ever need help. That’s it.”
“Wow. From the Emperor-to-be himself? Must mean a lot from such a busy guy.”
“Uh-huh,” says Edward, sliding the cap back on the scroll case.
Truthfully, Ling’s message was more like a declaration of commitment than anything else. He said he considers Edward to be his sworn brother — a phrase that has no equivalent in Amestris — and that the next time Ed is in the country, he’s invited to partake in a ritual that will make it official. It sounds a lot like marriage to Edward, even though Ling stressed that it’s platonic, but he can’t help but feel flattered that Ling would include him in his cultural traditions. Plus, the idea of a ceremonial feast sounds pretty great.
“Well,” says Havoc, setting his coffee on the side table and smacking his lips. “Shall we go check on the little gremlin ‘fore dinner?”
“Lieutenant Havoc, are you staying to eat with us?” says Alphonse. “Granny made her famous potato cream stew tonight!”
Havoc grins and eases onto his feet. Edward doesn’t miss the way he uses the armrest to help himself up.
“Sounds delicious. Count me in.”
Envy is dozing on their basking rock when an unfamiliar voice rings down the hall — too deep to be either of the Elric brothers. They jump into their cottage without a moment’s delay, and Jean Havoc strolls in, dressed in his civvies with both of the Elric brothers at his heels. Envy can’t help the hiss that escapes them, their spiny back arching and their paws digging into the ground.
Havoc pauses at the noise, then drops into Alphonse’s usual armchair. He takes in the stack of Xingese history books on the floor, the artificial landscape of Envy’s tank, and the embarrassing amount of rubber toys that Alphonse has been transmuting for them.
“You got it pretty good here, don’tcha?” says Havoc, resting one elbow on his knee.
“Mustang’s man,” hisses Envy, the tip of their tail twitching in the tiny space of their cottage. “I assume you’re here under orders to assess me — if not abduct me to some underground lab.”
Havoc raises both his palms. “It wouldn’t be an abduction, it’d be a facility transfer. And no, I’d be in uniform for that.”
Edward sits on his bed, studying Havoc’s body language, but Alphonse hovers by the door with his eyes trained on Envy. There’s a crease between his brow, and he leans his weight against the doorframe as if he’s favoring one leg.
“You’re in his chair,” says Envy before they can stop themself, and Havoc raises his eyebrows. Too late to back down, Envy barrels onward. “Don’t you have any decency? The kid’s a cripple. The cold weather fucks up his bones.”
Alphonse’s mouth falls open, and to Envy’s secondhand embarrassment, he looks like he’s about to cry. What, did no one else notice that he’s in pain? The hell kind of family is this?
But Havoc only smiles in apology. “My bad, Al,” he says, hefting himself to his feet with some effort. “Here, take this one. Ed, can I use your desk chair?”
Edward’s sharp eyes miss nothing. “Your wound didn’t fully heal.”
Havoc drags the desk chair over and sits in it backwards, his arms crossed over the backrest. “Unfortunately, no. I still had to do some pretty extensive PT, but nothing that stops me from being on the job.”
It dawns on Envy, then.
“You’re the man that Lust paralyzed.” Their big eyes narrow to slits, darting up and down his frame. “Someone used a Philosopher’s Stone to heal you, didn’t they?”
“You got me,” says Havoc, pulling out a toothpick and chomping on it in lieu of a cigarette. “The Stone didn’t restore everything, but the most important bits are in working order, if you catch my drift.”
“Ewww,” say Edward and Alphonse, at the same time that Envy snaps, “You’re disgusting. You always talk like that in front of kids?”
“Oops,” says Havoc, raising his hands again. “But hey, speaking of which, you used to be the crossdressing homunculus, right? I always wondered what was up your skirt.”
“Your mother, you worm!”
Alphonse clears his throat. “Um, Lieutenant Havoc? I don’t think this is the appropriate line of interrogation.”
“Yeah, that’s just rude,” calls Edward, and Envy’s eyes flick toward him. They forgot that the pipsqueak is something of a shapeshifter himself.
“Damn, the new generation is so openminded,” says Havoc, scratching his head. “Well, onto official business then. Envy, did Father have any contingency plans?”
“You think I’d be here if there was a contingency plan?” says Envy without missing a beat.
Their tail lashes in irritation, remembering the deaths of their siblings as recounted to them by Alphonse. Sloth, who was defeated by soldiers, Greed, who was absorbed by Father, and Pride, who reverted to his true form… Is the Bradley woman taking good care of him? Is it possible for him to age like a human? If so, how old would he be now?
Havoc shrugs. “You were playing the long game for centuries. Hard to believe you’d leave it all up to Plan A.”
“I don’t think my Father could have planned for getting punched through the chest and eaten alive by Truth,” they say in derision. They glance at Edward, who spent that time with them inside Gluttony’s Gate. “Once Truth has you, there’s no going back. Just ask the brat.”
Havoc raises an eyebrow, jabbing a thumb at Alphonse. “But his body came back.”
“That’s different. The Elric brothers’ souls are connected. And it wasn’t like Father’s soul was separated from his body. All of him was taken.”
Jean Havoc leans very close to the tank, his breath fogging the outside of the glass.
“Not all of him was taken,” he says slowly. “You’re still here, ain’t you?”
Envy freezes. Is it possible to bring Father back using his children? Would that be like performing human transmutation? Would a Philosopher’s Stone be enough of a toll to convince Truth, or would Father’s soul reject a new body?
“It’s not possible,” says Edward, voicing the exact same thoughts. “We’ve seen too many cases of artificial bodies and incompatible souls. The original body has to unite with the original soul, and both of those are long gone.”
“Besides,” says Alphonse, quiet in his armchair, “Envy is their own person.”
There’s a long beat of silence. Then Havoc leans back, accepting the answer for now.
“Fair ‘nough. Onto the next question. Did you leave behind any people who would try to carry on Father’s work?”
“Everything Father did was in service of becoming the perfect being. Unless they’re trying to do that, then no.”
“So then creating chimeras, creating homunculi…?”
“You’re hardly the only world power who creates chimeras for military use,” says Envy with a scoff. “Just look at Creta. And I’m sure the Drachmans have been cooking up something, but Father was never interested in those fools. His goals were always loftier.”
“Lofty is one way to put it,” says Havoc. “Man tried to eat the damn moon.”
“You plebeians are such a nuisance,” hisses Envy. “The symbolism goes much deeper than that! The eclipse represents the joining of the Sun and the Moon—”
“The creation of the perfect being, yadda yadda,” says Havoc. “Mustang gave me this alchemy spiel. Something ‘bout combining man and woman? Is that what Father tried to do with you?”
He squints at Envy, studying their scaly little body.
“Huh. He sure missed the mark, didn’t he?”
“Shut up!” Envy bursts out of their cottage, their tail lashing wildly. Tears bubble up in their bulging eyes, spilling down the limestone path of their home. “Shut up, know I’m imperfect! I’m a worthless, pathetic, disgusting mistake, and Father never should have created me!”
“Envy—” Alphonse tries to say.
“But you— you filthy human, you don’t get to tell me that! You couldn’t even walk without using the souls of other humans to heal your broken body. Who’s the pathetic one now?!”
Havoc is silent, and when he stands, Envy quails against the ground. This is it. They blew it. They’re about to be abducted — “transferred” — to an underground lab where there will certainly be no toys, no heat lamp, and no history books on Xingese dynasties.
“Don't hurt me—”
“You know?” says Havoc, his hands on his hips. “You're right. I did that. I healed my body with a Philosopher’s Stone — something these two right next to me never would have done.”
Edward’s face is creased with grief, and he opens his mouth, but Havoc keeps going.
“I reckon I could’ve lived out the rest of my life in a wheelchair and been just fine,” he says. “Hell, Ed’s still got an automail leg. Al is still recovering. Nothing goes quite according to plan, does it?”
He crouches until he’s eye level with Envy, his hands braced on his knees. Envy is frozen in place, confused and teary-eyed, too scared to make a break for their cottage.
“And you,” muses Havoc. “Who would have thought you’d be here? But can you really tell me you have it that bad? It’s gotta be nicer than how Father treated you.”
“Fuck you,” says Envy, little more than a croak. “He gave me purpose. He gave me a family. You’re not the one who lost a sister.”
Havoc’s face grows solemn. “She was very beautiful, and very deadly.”
“And you didn’t lose your brothers!”
Havoc sticks his thumb at the Elrics. “You got these guys now.”
“Whoa, wait—” says Edward, jumping to his feet, while Alphonse just sighs and covers his face.
“I didn’t lose anyone, it’s true,” says Havoc with a nod. “But I damn near lost everyone because of you and yours. Just trying to make sure it don’t happen again.”
Envy slinks into their house and curls up under the blankets, tired of talking to this strange man who won’t rise to their bait.
“Envy…” says Alphonse, forlorn, and Havoc stands.
“Hey, why don’t you eat dinner with us, kid?”
It takes Envy a long time to realize he’s talking to them.
“Wait, wait, wait,” says Edward. “What are you saying?!”
“I mean, just keep ‘em in a jar and bring ‘em to the table. You’re telling me y’all don’t already do this?”
“No! Why would we—”
Envy peeks out of their house, and Havoc sighs.
“No wonder your progress is so slow. There’s nothing better for bonding than sharing a meal together. Ain’t that the whole point of this?”
He gestures to the tank, to the books on the floor.
“You gotta show ‘em what it’s like to be with a group again. Not just talking one-on-one.”
Havoc grins at the dumbfounded expressions on the boys’ faces, his toothpick wagging in his mouth.
“Just trust me.”
This is very weird.
Envy huddles at the bottom of their jar, now padded with several pieces of flannel and a new catnip sachet. The jar perches on the edge of the table between Edward and Alphonse, and everyone except Havoc can’t stop looking at it.
“The soup’s delicious, ma’am,” says Havoc, swiping another thick mouthful of stew with a scrap of homemade sourdough. “Now, my mom’s potato soup, she don’t make it with cream. Think it’s some kinda tomato base? But Resembool — I get it. The dairy here is top-notch.”
“Does he ever shut up,” hisses Envy, still flat on their belly beneath layers of flannel.
Edward snorts. “That’s rich, coming from you.”
“I haven’t been up your ass lately!”
“I hope you never have,” says Havoc in horror, and everyone glares at him.
Edward sniffs, sticking a spoonful of stew into his mouth. “True, though. Ever since I threatened to abandon you…”
“Fuck you, that’s not what you said!
“Brother, can you please stop threatening Envy?” says Alphonse, setting down his spoon with a clink. “That’s what we have the spray bottle for.”
“No way,” says Havoc, looking between the three of them. “Y’all really squirt this guy?”
“Not a guy,” Edward growls without thinking. “And don’t say that word!”
“What, squirt?”
“Aaargh!”
“Edward, would it kill you to chew with your mouth closed?” says Winry in exasperation. “We have guests!”
“We have one guest, and one pest,” he says, still scarfing down stew between words. “Although at this point, I’m not sure which is which!”
Den pokes her head between the Elric brothers, her huge, dark eyes trained on Envy. Her wet nose twitches as she sniffs the jar, and Alphonse tries to gently steer her head away.
“Den, no. That’s not food!”
“You sure she don’t want table scraps?” says Havoc, wiping his mouth with a cloth napkin. “I’m guilty of stuffing my dogs with leftovers.”
“She can’t gain too much weight,” says Winry as she passes the bread basket to Granny. “It’ll be hard on her automail. She actually needs a special protein mix to keep up with the strain it puts on her body.”
“Awwh, poor kiddo,” says Havoc, whistling at Den to get her attention. Her eyes don’t leave Envy’s jar, even when Havoc tries to bait her with bread. “Hey, maybe you could give some of this to Envy instead. Must be weird to be sitting at the table and not eating.”
“I don’t need your pity scraps,” cries Envy, shuffling as far away from Den as they can. “I want that damn mutt to quit looking at me!”
“You sure, Envy? It’s really good,” says Alphonse, tugging a warm slice from the bottom of the basket and tearing off a piece. “Here, you’ve never had Resembool butter, have you? This stuff is better than what they stock at Central Command.”
Edward can see the moment that Envy’s expression ticks over from disdainful to jealous, that covetous gleam finding their eyes.
“Well, maybe a little bit wouldn’t hurt…”
Alphonse unscrews the lid of the jar and slips the piece of bread inside, snatching his hand back when Envy leaps for the food. It disappears into their weird, jawless mouth in seconds, and it’s almost comical the way Envy melts into their nest.
Granny Pinako snorts, scraping the bottom of her bowl. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Ma’am, anybody would be lucky to taste your homemade cooking,” says Havoc, ever the gentleman. “Hey, Al, make sure they try the soup later. If they didn’t have a heart before, they’ll sure as hell have one after.”
“Generous of you,” grunts Edward as he ladles himself a second bowl.
“Look, I’m not saying we’re the same. But I know what it’s like to be cooped up at home, feeling like you damn near lost your purpose.”
Edward swallows, and Winry tilts her head.
“Would you be okay with me asking about your recovery? From an automail engineer’s perspective—”
At that moment, Den hops onto her front paws and knocks Envy’s jar over, sending them careening to the floor with a tiny shriek. The jar shatters on the floor, and before Envy can make a run for it, Den bats them with her automail paw and scoops Envy up in her mouth.
“Noooo! Put me down, put me down!”
“Den!” everyone yells, their chairs scraping as they push back from the table. Alphonse quickly kneels to the floor and transmutes the jar back into its original shape, but by then, Den has already bounded off to the sitting room, Edward hot on her heels.
“Den, no! That’s not food!”
Den tosses Envy in the air and catches them again in her mouth, acting very much like she’s caught a squirrel instead of a scrap of bread. Envy is blubbering where they’re trapped between her fangs, and Edward tries to wrestle with her, gripping her jaws in an attempt to pry them open.
“C’mon, Den,” he groans as she shakes her head, thrilled that someone else is playing with her. “Envy’s gotta taste bad! Spit them out right now!”
“Fuck youuu!” cries Envy.
“Edward, step aside,” says Winry, her hands on her hips. She gives one hard look at Den and says, “Den, give.”
Den’s ears perk, and she lowers her head, letting Envy slide out of her mouth and onto the floor in a slimy mess. Alphonse scoops them up and dries them with a napkin, yelping when Envy skitters up his arm and clings to his chest.
“Put me back,” they moan, leaving a damp patch of tears on Alphonse’s shirt. “Put me back in the tank, I don’t care!”
“Sheesh, okay, I got you,” says Alphonse, cupping the napkin over their blubbering body and attempting to pry them off. Envy clings ever harder to his shirt, and Alphonse sighs. “Fine, fine. Just hold on.”
He cradles Envy to his chest and carries them upstairs. Edward glares at Havoc, blasting as much blame as he can onto the lieutenant.
“What?” he says with a shrug. “I ain’t the one who tried to eat a homunculus.”
Edward drags a hand over his face. “For both our sakes… maybe don't tell Mustang this happened.”
Havoc grimaces. “Deal.”
Envy dives for their bathing pool as soon as Alphonse lets them into the tank, rolling around in the water until they’re sure the smell of dog breath has washed off.
“I’m so sorry, Envy, I didn’t—”
“Save it,” they croak, wallowing in their pool. “I’ve never been more humiliated in my entire life.”
Envy crawls out of the pool and shakes from head to tail, spraying droplets of water everywhere. They make a beeline for their basking rock and lay as flat as possible, relishing in the solid anchor of stone.
Alphonse leaves them alone after a minute, and Envy finally relaxes for the first time in hours. The heat lamp lulls them into a light doze, so much that they barely stir when Edward enters the room.
The heavy lid of the terrarium shifts, and Envy’s eyes shoot open as a savory aroma fills their tank. Edward lowers a huge silver ladle past the lid and rests it against the inside of the glass, its generous bowl filled with potato cream soup.
“Granny made me bring you this,” grunts Edward as he replaces the lid. “I think she’s got a soft spot for immortal misfits.”
Envy ignores the jab and dashes straight for the soup, sniffing the edge of the ladle before dipping a paw inside and sticking it in their mouth.
“Oh…”
If Resembool’s butter is rich and sweet, then their heavy cream is downright indulgent. The hearty root vegetables blend seamlessly with the clean taste of dairy, and chunks of cured sausage leave smoky notes threaded through the flavor profile.
When did such simple-minded humans achieve so much culinary prowess? They’re out in the boonies, for fuck’s sake!
Envy shovels one pawful of soup after another past their fangs, almost moaning when a chunk of potato melts in their mouth. They don’t say a word until they’ve sucked the last of the soup from the inside of the spoon, and then they collapse onto their side, fat and happy and fuller than they’ve ever been.
“This doesn’t change anything,” they croak, pointing a sticky paw at Edward, who was watching in amusement the whole time. “You’re still worms, and I’m still your prisoner, and I still hate you!”
“Whatever you say, Envy,” says Edward with that aggravating grin, but Envy can’t be bothered to rile themself up right now.
They slip into a food coma right as Edward reaches inside and retrieves the ladle.
“G’night, you little monster.”