Chapter Text
Just as Peter predicted, he, Ed, Winry, and Flash all got detention for fighting during lunch. Peter had tried his best to break up the fight before it got out of hand, but unfortunately, the lunch monitor, Mr. Williams, noticed before he could do so. Naturally, Mr. Williams had assumed that all four of them were involved in the fight, and he gave them attention accordingly.
So much for a nice, peaceful day, Peter thought with a sigh as he shot Aunt May a text to let her know. He wasn’t mad at Ed or Winry, not really--Flash definitely could be an asshole when he wanted to be, and he was good at finding the right buttons to push, and really Peter had wanted to hit him plenty of times, so he understood. Part of him was almost a little satisfied that someone had finally punched Flash after all the shit he’d put Peter (and plenty of others) through.
He just really, really wished they hadn’t acted on their anger where the lunch monitor could see.
As everyone began to disperse once the fight stopped, Peter ushered Winry and Ed away as quickly and quietly as he could, his face bright red with embarrassment.
When he glanced over his shoulder, he saw Flash was still lying on the floor, his own face red and blood running down from his (hopefully not completely broken) nose. He was staring after the trio with a strangely appraising look on his face. Silently, Peter hoped that wouldn’t mean trouble for any of them later.
“I’m so sorry about all of that,” Peter said quickly. “He’s always kind of an asshole--well, I mean, he’s gotten a little better, but really-”
“I’m not,” Winry said with a huff. “He deserved it. It sucks that we got in trouble, though.” She glared pointedly at her brother. “We were supposed to be on our best behavior.”
Ed didn’t look too bothered, holding a hand up dismissively. Now that Peter had noticed that he was wearing gloves, it was a lot more obvious. It wasn’t exactly the most unusual thing he’d seen, but it was definitely more than a little confusing. The weather was getting colder, sure, but it was still hot enough that the gloves had to be uncomfortable.
“Hey, if Col-” Winry shot Ed a sharp look, and with wide eyes, he quickly added, “I mean, I’m sure Mustang will understand. Besides, he didn’t say not to punch anybody, especially if they were being an asshole.”
“So?”
“So, I’m pretty sure we’re in the clear.” Ed sounded very sure of himself, and while Peter was grateful that they’d stood up for him, he couldn’t help but feel a little irritated that Ed didn’t seem to understand the situation.
“We still have detention,” he said flatly. “And I’m sure your-” Peter realized abruptly that he didn’t actually know how Mr. Mustang was related to these two, so he fumbled for a moment before deciding on what he figured was the safest option. “Your dad’s going to be pretty mad about that, no matter what the technicalities are.”
Ed and Winry looked at him, then at each other, then back at him. They were both still holding the little pink slips Mr. Williams had given them.
“He’s not our dad,” Ed said at the same time that Winry said, “What does detention mean?”
Peter wasn’t sure who he should answer first, looking back and forth between the siblings before finally settling on Winry.
“Detention means that we have to stay after school today,” Peter explained. He glanced down at his slip, his shoulders slumping slightly as he read the specifications hastily scribbled on the paper. “... Until around six, it seems.”
An expression Peter could only describe as an approximation of Oh Shit™ crossed Ed and Winry’s features at the same time, and they shared another look before facing Peter again.
“What the hell?” Ed said. “Just because we got in one fight? Shouldn’t we have a fair trial or something? I thought that was a big thing in America.”
Peter snorted, and he had to resist the urge to give Ed a pat on the shoulder like he would with his friends whenever they said something ridiculous. “Oh, no. I mean, if a parent complains maybe the punishment might change, but generally whatever the administration decides is what happens.”
Ed had a disgusted look on his face. Winry did, too, but she seemed less surprised than her brother did.
Peter could relate.
It was only then that Peter had picked up on what exactly Ed had said, and suddenly things began to make sense. Ed and Winry had transferred from another country; they probably didn’t have detention at their old school. Peter wasn’t the most well-read person in the world, but while he knew after-school detention wasn’t exclusively an American thing, he did know not every country had it.
He wondered how he hadn’t noticed until now, as Ed and Winry began talking quietly among themselves while they sat back down at the lunch table with the others. Now that Peter thought about it, they did have a bit of an accent when they spoke, but he couldn’t really place it in his mind.
Well, in his defense, he had been pretty stressed out for most of the day already. It was pretty easy to miss details like that.
“You okay, Pete?” Harry asked, his voice tinged with concern as he looked Peter up and down.
“I’m fine,” Peter said with a sigh. “We have detention, though.” Harry and Ned both winced in sympathy, but Michelle looked almost impressed.
“First day and you already have detention?” she asked, glancing at where Ed and Winry were seated nearby, still talking quietly with each other. Winry nodded, and Michelle let out a low whistle. “Damn. That’s gotta be a record or something.”
“Please don’t encourage them,” Peter said helplessly.
“No,” Ned said helpfully, smiling sheepishly as he glanced at Peter, “I think the record is within the first hour of the first day.” Michelle nodded, humming thoughtfully.
“Point still stands,” she said. Ed perked up, a curious expression in place.
“Someone got detention within the first hour ?” He sounded a mix between impressed and disgusted. “What did they even do?”
“I don’t really remember all the details,” Ned said, “but I’m pretty sure they were caught sneaking into the teacher’s lounge?”
Ed frowned. “But why would they be punished for th-”
“Anyway,” Peter cut in, not wanting this conversation to continue, “we got lucky and only have detention for today. As long as we don’t do anything else to get in trouble, it’ll stay that way.”
Winry looked a little relieved at that, but Ed was still frowning. He looked as though he wanted to say something, but Winry gave him a sharp look and he stayed quiet.
“... Anyway,” Harry said after a long moment of awkward silence, glancing over at the newcomers, “uh, bullies and detention aside, how are you guys finding Midtown so far?”
From there, the conversation continued as per usual until lunch came to an end, with no more incidents to raise Peter’s blood pressure. He could only hope the rest of the day would follow suit.
--
Later that day, after school came to an end around 4:30, Peter collected Ed and Winry and led them to the classroom usually used for detention. Their last class of the day, apparently, was geography.
“Ready to suffer?” Peter asked teasingly as they walked to room 114. The detention monitor, Mr. Simmons, was probably already there, but Peter knew he usually didn’t care enough to pay much attention to what was going on as long as no one started trouble or talked too loudly.
“I’m sure it won’t be that bad!” Winry said, though she didn’t sound particularly convinced. “It’s only for an hour and a half, right?”
“I still think this whole thing is ridiculous,” Ed said. By this point, they’d reached the room and were walking in, and when Ed finished his sentence, Mr. Simmons shot him a glare.
“Sit down and be quiet,” Mr. Simmons barked.
“Where do we sit?” Ed asked, apparently unable to resist the urge to be a little shit. Mr. Simmons continued glaring at him, and with one large hand he gestured to the desks before him.
“Sit,” he said again.
Peter glanced around the room and saw that Flash was already there, sitting toward the back of the room with a couple of other students. When he met Flash’s eyes, he found Flash was glaring at him, and he quickly looked away. Ed seemed to notice, and he shot Flash a sharp look that had the other student averting his eyes quickly. Mr. Simmons glared at Ed one more time, and Peter winced.
“Please don’t piss off Mr. Simmons,” he said quietly. “He can give us more detention.” Ed sobered up slightly at that, but he still had an irritated expression on his face as he looked at the teacher, who had gone back to the book in his hands now that he was satisfied nothing would happen.
They sat near the middle of the desks, Peter in the middle with Ed and Winry on either side. Flash was a few rows behind, and Peter could feel his eyes burning into the back of his skull as he settled in.
The first ten minutes or so of detention passed without much incident or conversation. It seemed Mr. Simmons wasn’t planning on showing any videos this time, as focused as he was on the book he was reading. After another five minutes passed, he suddenly got to his feet.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” he told the students. “Stay put, and stay quiet. I’ll be back in a second.” He shot them a serious look, then rushed out of the room. Peter was a little surprised he didn’t lock the door behind him.
Another minute or so passed, and then Peter decided to ask something that had been on his mind ever since lunch.
“So,” he began, glancing at Ed, “sorry if this is a weird question, and you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but, uh… I noticed you’re wearing gloves. Do you mind if I ask why?”
Ed started slightly, looking at him with wide eyes. He looked at Winry, then back at Peter. When Peter glanced Winry’s way, she looked similarly surprised.
“Hey,” Peter said quickly, “it’s fine if you don’t wanna talk about it. I’m just curious, is all.” Maybe Ed was just really concerned about germs or something.
“No, it’s… it’s fine.” Ed’s voice was weirdly hesitant, and he looked behind him at Flash. After a second, he turned back to Peter and held up his right hand for him to see. Without another word, he pulled off the glove and sat it on the desk.
Ed’s hand was metal. It was fucking metal.
“Holy shit.” Peter couldn’t help but stare, sure he had a shocked, dumbfounded expression on his face.
“Yeah,” Ed said, shifting a little awkwardly. “The whole arm’s a prosthetic.”He put his glove back on, resting both of his arms on the desk in front of him. Peter shook his head slightly.
“Oh, shit, I-I’m sorry,” Peter stammered. “I’m not trying to be weird about it. It’s just… I’ve never seen one like that before. It’s pretty cool.”
“No need to be sorry!” Ed cracked a smile. “Honestly, I’ve heard worse. But you’re right--it is pretty cool. My left leg’s a prosthetic, too.” Well, that explained Ed’s slightly uneven steps, at least.
Winry, who had been a little quiet up to that point, perked up at the exchange. “You’re damn right it’s cool!” She had a smirk on her face as she rested her chin on her fist. “I designed them myself, after all.”
“Wait, really?” Peter looked at Winry now, his curiosity going haywire. “That’s amazing!” Winry’s smirk widened.
“Why thank you,” she said, winking at him playfully. She then shot Ed a playful glare. “I don’t know why he’s so insistent on hiding them both--they’re works of art, if I do say so myself.”
“I didn’t want to draw too much attention on the first day,” Ed said.
“You? Not want to draw too much attention?” Winry snorted. “Who are you and what did you do with Ed?”
“Oh, shut up.” Despite his words, Ed was smiling at her. “I just figured we’d get enough attention as the new Amestrian students, and I didn’t want to make that any worse right away.”
Peter blinked. “Amestrian?” He didn’t remember either of them mentioning that before, but it certainly made a lot of sense now that Peter thought about it.
“Yeah, we’re Amestrian,” Winry said with a shrug and a sheepish smile. “Sorry we didn’t mention it before.”
“No need to apologize,” Peter said. He furrowed his brow. “Just… uh, I don’t think I’ve met anyone from Amestris before.” Mentally, he tried to recall everything he knew about Amestris.
Amestris wasn’t a country Peter was very familiar with, but he recognized the name from some of his geography and history classes. If he remembered right, it was somewhere in eastern Europe, and it was one of the most isolationist nations in the modern world. It wasn’t involved in any worldwide organizations and had extremely strict immigration policies, barely allowing anyone in or out.
… Maybe he should’ve paid a bit more attention when MJ was telling him about her paper on the topic.
“Yeah, probably not.” Winry snorted. “Ed and I only moved here this year.”
“Why’d you move?” Peter asked curiously.
“Mustang got a new job opportunity or something,” Ed said drily. “I don’t really know all the details.”
Winry hissed her brother's name under her breath in a sharp reprimand, but Peter abruptly remembered something Ed had said earlier.
“You said Mustang’s not your dad?” Peter asked. Ed and Winry shared a look he couldn’t read, and his face flushed with embarrassment. “Sorry, I’m not trying to give you guys the third degree or anything, I just wanna get to know you a bit.”
“No, it’s fine,” Winry said a little absently. She glanced at Ed, then back at Peter. “Um, no, he’s not our dad, but he’s our guardian right now.” Her eyes darkened slightly and she looked down. “Our, um, parents died when we were younger, so we’re living with him and Miss Riza right now. She’s our aunt.”
The words sounded strangely rehearsed, just as Winry’s introduction earlier that day had. It was a little weird, but Peter supposed that they must have had to answer questions like these a thousand times. Regardless, he winced in sympathy.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Peter said. “I-I didn’t mean to pry, I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright,” Ed said, his voice tight. “It happened when we were little.” A beat passed.
“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck.” Peter’s smile was strained. “For what it’s worth, I can relate, at least a little bit--my, uh… my parents died when I was little, too. I’ve actually been living with my aunt for most of my life.” His smile fell as he thought of Aunt May and Uncle Ben.
Peter hadn’t thought about Uncle Ben’s death in a little while now. He thought about his uncle often, of course, but his death was still hard to process even years after it had happened. Even with all the excitement and superheroing that Peter’s life had become, it was still hard to think about the passing of the only father he’d ever known.
Sometimes, Peter wondered if that said something about him, that he couldn’t bear to think about Uncle Ben’s death.
“I’m sorry,” Winry said softly, putting her hand on Peter’s arm and bringing him back to reality. When he looked her way, he saw her eyes were full of sympathy.
“It’s alright,” Peter said, deciding not to mention Uncle Ben for now. “But, um, thank you.”
Ed looked like he wanted to say something else, but right then, Mr. Simmons came back in.
“Whatever you’re talking about,” Mr. Simmons said as he walked into the room, “be quiet. This is detention--not your social hour.”
Ed sent Mr. Simmons a dirty look, but he pretended not to notice as he sat down in the front again, pulling out his book.
As the room fell quiet again, Peter realized something odd: Flash hadn’t said anything the whole time they were there. He hadn’t even made one snide comment. Cautiously, Peter turned his head to look to Flash.
Flash’s attention was on the row where Peter was sitting with Ed and Winry, but he didn’t have an angry or even condescending expression on his face. Rather, he looked curious, looking between the two blonds with cautious interest.
Huh.
Well, at least Flash being quiet meant this’ll go smoothly, Peter thought. At least they wouldn’t have to deal with him being an asshole again.