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Fuhrer Tora Hakuro has reposed special trust and confidence in the patriotism, valor, fidelity, and abilities of Corporal Roy Mustang. In view of these qualities and his demonstrated potential of leadership and responsibility, he is therefore restored to the rank of Brigadier General, effective immediately.
The newly minted Brigadier General Roy Mustang closed the door of the Fuhrer’s office behind him, certificate of office and polished silver pocketwatch in hand. He needed a physical barrier between himself, Hakuro, and the rest of the ranking brass of Central, who had borne witness to his unprecedented return to power.
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath to compose himself. He hoped he’d managed to camouflage his disbelief when the nature of his summons was revealed, but in the end, it didn’t matter. For the first time in years, he was back on track. He schooled his expression carefully, only to be rattled once again by a shout from the far end of the foyer.
“Congratulations on being the first person in history to climb ten ranks in a day. I always knew you were a bootlicker, but holy shit, man.” There, leaning against the window facing the courtyard, was a surprise in a soft grey suit and slacks. He'd never thought he'd see the day Edward Elric would wear formal clothes, but he'd been nothing if not a new man when he'd returned. Roy couldn’t decipher the expression the young man was trying to conceal with that poor veneer of irritation. “Oh sorry. Holy shit, sir.”
Goodness. Genuine pride, and from Edward Elric himself. A red-letter day indeed.
“News travels fast, I see. Though I’m surprised it’s already reached Risembool, seeing as how I only found out,“ He clicked open his newly returned pocketwatch, “about fifteen minutes ago.”
He noted with nostalgic pleasure that it was scuffed exactly as he remembered it. He'd never thought he'd see it again, and yet having it back in his palm was like finding a keepsake you never realized you'd lost.
"Yeah, well, I've always been a step ahead of you." He pushed away from the wall, falling in step beside Roy. It only seemed natural to continue walking, shoulder to only-slightly-shorter shoulder.
“I’d give you a gold star, but,” He made a show of peering, unimpressed, at Roy's newly acquired epaulettes. “It seems you’d need another promotion first.” The mocking disdain on his face morphed into a pleased grin. Yes, there was the Edward Elric he knew.
He’d been gone for so long, Roy had been on the verge of giving up hope. His return had rekindled the dying embers of the man he'd once been, the man he could be again. He turned his head, suppressing a smirk that would surely rival the blonde's. Instead, he drank in the sight of him from the corner of his eye as they moved.
He would never speak of it, but he couldn't help but miss the deep crimson duster. He'd come to associate it with the boy, Roy supposed. And yet, the charcoal waistcoat and slacks suited Edward in a manner that was far, far too appealing.
A glint of light caught his eye: a thin silver chain clipped from the belt, dipping down into the pocket of his slacks. His stomach dropped, then promptly dissolved to dust. There was no mistaking the watch of a state alchemist. But why on earth…?
Insight was a bolt of lightning in his guts. “You did this.” He ground out, shocked and oddly cold.
“To be fair, he already knew you deserved it, he just needed a little push.” Roy knew hedging when he heard it, felt the first prickles of anger dribble down his spine. As though signing your life away to the military qualified as a little push.
“I don’t understand." No, understanding was the problem; it was all too clear exactly what the little shit had done.
Apparently, said little shit did not seem to grasp this. “Don’t you see? Everyone wins! Hakuro gets two of the best alchemists in the world, the people of Amestris have us to back them, and you get back the authority you need-”
“So everyone wins except for you? I’m sorry Edward, but if this just to ropes you back into the military’s service, I won’t have it. I’ll decline the promotion and leave the military for good before I drag you back into this.” It was a rash declaration, he knew, but after everything Ed and Alphonse had been through, he still could grant them the lives they deserved, it was the least he could do.
Ed slowed his stride, then stopped completely, forcing Roy to turn and face him. Softly, “And how do you expect to protect anyone when you’re at rock bottom? That was the point of everything, wasn’t it? You won’t change anything from where you were.”
Stupid boy. Roy had thought he might have developed a modicum of sense over the years, but it wouldn't be the first time he’d underestimated him. “So you’re going to sacrifice yourself for some nebulous greater good? How does that qualify as protecting you, pray tell?”
Edward’s brow lifted, “What, you planning on throwing me to the wolves now?” He shook his head, crossed his arms, like he was explaining to a simpleton. “It’s not a sacrifice, Mustang. There’s a lot of shit that needs doing, and you need all the help you can get. For the first time in a long time, I’m exactly where I need to be.”
“What, a dog of the military?”
“Whatever it takes to push you to the top. Hughes can’t do it anymore. I can.” Head held high, nostrils flared, daring Roy to reject him again. The boy’s determination had always been an unstoppable force.
Roy’s protests died in his throat. He couldn't help but wonder how he could have possibly earned the confidence of this creature, all tenacity and sharp edges and a will that could not be bent. He turned and began moving for the door leading out to the parade grounds, slowly, until he heard mismatched footsteps shift and follow. “Well then, I’d be honored to have you back on my team, Fullmetal.”
The young man beamed at him, impishly pleased. “One person doesn't really qualify as a team, you know. You still have to get the others transferred back under your command.”
But the two of us can be quantified as a team, can we not? Mustang thought.
“So, how d’you plan on celebrating this fancy history-making promotion, Colonel Shit?”
Heavens, his ribs couldn't possibly withstand the starburst in his chest, could it?
“What would you propose? Honestly, I thought we ought to be celebrating your triumphant return from wherever the hell you’ve been. I do believe if you’re going to be working under me, you’ll have to debrief me on it.” As the words fell out, Mustang hoped that Edward’s naivety was still intact, and would completely fail to notice his slip.
“You’re gonna be buying us dinner and some really expensive champagne before any kind of debriefing happens, you fucking libertine.” Edward shot back, glee coloring his voice.
Better to be cautious, Roy reminded himself. “How about dinner, obscenely expensive champagne, and we’ll worry about debriefing some other time.” He offered.
Ed shifted his balance to bump his shoulder against Roy’s bicep, and smiled like the sun was rising. “Deal.”