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Ed didn’t know how he’d ended up here after getting off he train in Central. He only knew the place because he’d found the address and pinned it on his mental map, should he ever need it. He didn’t even know if he’d be welcome, but at this point, it was the first taste of home he’d felt since he crossed the border into Aerugo all those months ago.
He’d missed the taste of home.
Ed raised his hand to knock, before letting it fall again. He felt foolish. What would he even say. What excuse could he give to why he had showed up after dark, unannounced, after over a year of radio silence.
He should turn back and go get a hotel. It would probably be for the best. Who’s to say there was even room for him for a night. Who’s to say he would even be welcome.
Ed sighed. He didn’t want to spend another night alone. He’d already spent more than his share alone.
He’d never know if he didn’t try, he decided, rapping his metal knuckles against the door. It took a few moments, but he heard movement on the other side, before it opened up to a familiar face, half hidden behind the door, and confused at the interruption.
“Fullmetal?”
Hearing his old code name felt like breathing again after far too long. It felt so good and right and normal that it seemed like it would knock him off his feet.
“I uh.. Um.” Ed hadn’t planned out what he was going to say at all. How the hell was he supposed to ask the bastard if he could crash here for tonight because he was too much of a chicken shit to spend another night alone.
“Long time, no see.” Mustang stepped back from the door, gesturing inside. “Come in. I can put on some coffee, if you like?”
Ed nodded. Mustang was good at filling in the blank. “Thanks.”
The entryway was fairly dark, but the warm light of a fire danced from the next room over, and Mustang led them into there. A couple chairs were arranged by the fire, a small stack of books sat next to one of the chairs, with one face down on the top. Mustang gestured to the chair opposite.
“Make yourself at home. I’ll go get some coffee started, then you can catch me up. It’s been some time since I’ve heard from you.”
Ed nodded. “Your ears don’t reach that far?”
Mustang laughed. “I’m afraid not. It’s rather hard to keep track of someone who disappears off the map. Ms. Rockbell is the only reason I knew you were still alive.”
“You called her?” Ed frowned.
“Just because you’re no longer my subordinate doesn’t mean I no longer care.” Mustang shrugged, stepping from the room. Maybe he should have gone for the hotel. He had no idea what he was thinking showing up to the bastards house, unannounced. Too late now, he supposed.
He didn’t move to take the seat offered to him. Instead he moved over to the table, taking a peak at what Mustang had been reading. The title didn’t do much to spark his interest, but Mustang was over halfway in. Ed marked his place with a finger, flipping back to the index. It was Ishvalan history. He flipped to the front cover, searching for the author. He didn’t recognize the name, though it was definitely Ishvalan. Ed flipped to the front. It was published just before King Bradley came to reign. It was a wonder Mustang had even found a copy of this book. Bradley had done his best to wipe out anything that could be seen as a positive representation of Ishvalan culture. He glanced at the pile. They were all Ishvalan
“It’s a rare edition.” Mustang said. Ed looked it him. He looked… guilty. “My aunt was the one to find it for me.”
Ed snagged a stray piece of paper off the table, marking Mustang’s spot before setting the closed book down.
“You’ll probably need it. You’re gonna have a hell of a time finding another copy if you destroy this one.”
Mustang smiled, offering the spare cup of coffee in his hands. “You’re probably right.”
Ed wanted to ask about the book, wanted to ask about the pile. Mustang was drowning himself in research the same way Ed had when he’d been so desperate to get Al’s body back. He wanted to ask, but he understood the guilt in Mustang’s eyes.
“So, Creta?” Mustang asked, sitting down, the stack of books forgotten.
_ _ _ _ _
They ended up talking far longer than Ed had planned. They talked about Aerugo and Creta, the people, the atmosphere, and the alchemy Ed had picked up. Ed showed Mustang some of the arrays the he had learned, and demonstrated some of the healing arrays. They were nowhere near the level of those he’d seen Mei use, but they were definitely useful nonetheless. Their water arrays were more developed too, though Ed had never particularly been good with those. Like many Amerstrian alchemists he did good with earth, and good solid substance. Ed would not be surprised if Mustang picked those up with ease, despite them being completely opposite from his chosen element. Oxygen manipulation involved its fair share of flow, afterall.
At the end of the night, Mustang ended up offering his spare bedroom, whether because it was late, and didn’t want Ed to have to go track down a place for the night, or because he knew what Ed had intended the moment he knocked on the door.
Both bedrooms sat at the top of the stairs, divided by a landing and a small bathroom between.
Ed dressed for bed, and rinsed his mouth, crawling into the unfamiliar bed. He’d gotten used to sleeping in new places, but that didn’t really mean that he liked to do so.
Every new place had unfamiliar noises. There wasn’t Al’s gentle breathing, Winry tinkering with automail until the early hours of the morning, Den’s clicking paw on the stairs. There wasn’t even the gentle clicks as Al’s armor shifted, or the clicking of the railroad beneath him.
Mustang lived in a quiet area of town so there wasn’t even the bustle of life outside his window. No crickets, no owls, no farmlife. Just silence. Ed didn’t do well with silence. It seemed to seep into his nerves and travel up into his head. Silence was maddening and lonely and it made his brain go into overdrive.
He couldn’t even hear Mustang breathing or settling in for the night. His house didn’t creak and settle in the same way that Granny’s had. There were no pops and creaks. Just silence.
It made Ed feel restless and agitated. He wondered how Al was doing, and if he was having a good time in Xing. They hadn’t really agreed on a time frame for when they would return. It was hard to place a time frame when it came to learning unfamiliar topics. He hoped Al would be back soon. Had Al figured out the dragon’s pulse? If anyone could do it, it would be Al. Al would love Aerugo. He hadn’t seen the ocean. The ocean made Ed feel small. Mom would have loved it there. She never got to see the ocean before she died. She would have challenged Ed and Al to make her a beautiful sandcastle. Ed would have wanted spikes but Al would have gone for something more delicate. Well Ed’s would be easier to defend. Al’s would be a home fit for a queen.
Ed rolled over, taking a deep breath. He needed to stop that train of thought.
Had Hoenheim ever traveled that far south or that far east? He’d been alive for so long, he must have. He must have seen Aerugo before it became war stricken. It was heartbreaking to come across green fields tainted by the scar of war. That was people’s homes and livelihoods destroyed, and for what gain? It reminded him of when he was younger, and watching injured soldiers trek through Resembool. He hadn’t understood war then.
Not going down that train of thought either.
He thought about their childhood home. Did Hohenheim have any books on Ishval? Not that it mattered now. Ed and Al burned that place down. Destroyed the evidence and gave them no reason to turn back. Failure wasn’t an option then.
Ed studiously tried to not think of the basement, instead trying to wonder how long he’d been lying awake. Mustang must be asleep by now, right?
Ed got up, heading back into the bathroom. The cold water felt nice on his face. Maybe it would help to slow down his mind. Like syrup. Cold syrup moved slower. If he could just cool his brain down.
There was a tap at the door frame as Ed was drying his face.
Mustang looked no better rested than he felt.
“I can hear you thinking.” Mustang said quietly.
Ed didn’t say anything.
“Want to talk about it?”
“No.”
Mustang looked at him critically for a few moments.
“Do you get nightmares?”
Ed looked at Mustang for a few moments, looking for any sign of judgement.
“Yeah. You?”
“More than I would care do admit” Mustang shrugged, looking rather defeated. “Ishval. Though I don't think you'd find that surprising.”
“I dream of trying to bring Mom back. Al was always really good at deterring them. I think it helped, being able to hear that I hadn’t lost him. Even in the armor. I knew his soul was next to me, and that I would bring him back.”
Mustang stepped back from the door frame as Ed hung up the towel.
“Silence doesn't help at all. It makes it hard to reassure myself that Al’s okay. That we’re both okay.”
Mustang didn’t say anything, just reached out his hand. Ed looked down at the extended fingers, and back up to the honest, open face. He was used to Mustang’s masks and cleverly composed demeanor. He wasn’t used to seeing him raw and open. He looked young, and scared, and Ed knew he was seeing a side that very few ever would.
He took Roy’s hand, and followed him to bed.