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As much as his temperamental joints were protesting this decision, Ed didn't feel like sticking by the fire tonight. No matter which way he sprawled out, nothing was comfortable. Nothing quieted his buzzing head. Too many thoughts, not enough distractions in the woods. God, the woods were so fucking boring. Roughin' it away from civilization had lost its charm within the first week of his teacher's test.
An offhand thought about simpler times only fed into Ed's inner turmoil. How was she nowadays? What about Alphonse? Casting a glance over his shoulder, he eyed the sleeping chimeras resting by the campfire. Ed almost envied them. They looked so at peace, pressed back to back, breathing out rumbling snores that blended into the crackle of burning wood. He couldn't even escape his stress in his dreams, not when they could conjure all the blood-freezing fears he dared not speak.
When the sun goes down, he thinks, is the only time he's honest with himself. When nobody else is awake to feel his tense shoulders teem with dread. Ed tugged his coat tighter around himself, letting his back hunch as he stared out at a silent forest. His metal elbow dug into his folded leg, bouncing his knee just to burn his nervous energy. Even the log under him felt cold, but, well, cold and miserable seemed to go hand in hand. Moping around while he was warm and cozy just felt.. selfish. Entitled, even. Somewhere out there, his friends, family, and countless others were suffering more than him. Likely would suffer worse than him if he didn't succeed.
"Well aren't you up late, shortstack." He felt stupid for flinching, considering he should have remembered the prince and his bunkmate fucked off somewhere before sundown. Wasn't unusual for them to wander off while camp was being set up, probably to perch in some tree like a cat. Some morbid part of him noted if it had been anyone else sneaking up behind him, he'd probably be dead.
"M'not short," Ed grumbled on reflex, unfolding his legs to splay them out, toes skyward.
"Look even shorter from here," Greed hummed, coming to stand just off to the side of Ed. "Isn't it past your bedtime? Those two look pretty cozy."
"Not tired," he lied. His body might've been sore, but that wouldn't be enough for his weary mind to pipe down. "And I'm not 12, ass."
"Sure hope not. Might be a pipsqueak," the homunculus grunted, squatting down to peer out at the trees, "but 12 year olds don't have to go on the run. Usually."
"Usually," he agreed noncommittally, idly drawing his fingers down his arm. There wasn't much that seemed very usual about him anymore. At least not since.. Ed rolled his shoulder, mentally cataloguing all the tiny differences in artificial nerves. He was more paranoid of a potential breakdown than he'd even been prior. There was no chance to get a repair until spring: every wire and screw counted. His hand dropped to his thigh, prodding around in his pocket until earrings met with his palm. They'd brought more comfort and willpower than should have been possible for tiny pieces of metal.
He hardly noticed the long gap of silence, not until his mind drew back from thoughts of long blond hair. Glancing to his right, he noted that Greed had not in fact moved. Not even a little, he was still in his dumb squat, looking ahead with an arched brow. Ed recognized the look on his face, faintly; maybe lost in thought, or the more likely option being the prince was harassing him for attention. None of his business either way.
It took less than a second for Greed's eyes to refocus, then promptly flick to Edward's. Catching him in the act of staring. Still staring, to be exact. There wasn't any way to disengage from that level of eye contact without it being awkward, so he turned his head the other way with a feigned cough.
"So why're you broodin' out here anyways?"
"Huh?" Ed hummed, looking back to the other just as quickly as he'd turned away.
"Could probably do it just as well over there instead of freezing your ass off. What, they snore too loud to hear your moody teenage thoughts?" he grinned, in that annoyingly gut scrambling way. His eye twitched at the thought. Definitely wasn't the time to describe a smug smirk as gut scrambling.
"Too cozy, if you could call a shitty sleeping bag on damp ground cozy," he scoffed, tearing his eyes away (again) and training them on the shapeless horizon. "And I'm not brooding."
"Sure looks like you are. Can hear the gears in your head grinding together from all the way back there. 'Nd you have that face again."
"What face?" he glared towards Greed, immediately failing at not making eye contact.
"See, you get this look," Greed gestured lazily with one hand, "whenever you get stuck in your head. Gonna sprain a muscle with how much you think, huh?"
Ed tsked, picking at a loose thread on his sleeve. "Thinking a lot is sorta how I've lived this long, don't see a point in stopping now."
"Thinking a lot while everyone's asleep?" Another glare was pinned on the crouching man. He was poised to open his mouth before he was cut off, "you can't fix everything overnight, y'know. Take a load off for the night or something." And he really wanted to snap at him how that just wasn't possible, how could he be so calm about all of this? Ed ground his teeth together, mulling over his words. He couldn't just flip a switch and stop worrying. Not with so many things wrong. His knuckles stung with how hard he was gripping immovable metal.
"Hey." Ed grunted passively in response. "Talk to me, shortstack, since ya got so much rolling around in your head anyways." He blinked, looking back towards Greed incredulously.
"Are you asking to listen to my 'brooding'?" he asked, doubt pulling his mouth into a light sneer.
"Sure. Why wouldn't I?" Greed eyed him, and Ed got the feeling the look he was being given was meant to say, "no duh, dumbass." That sort of arrogance would have earned anyone else a swift kick in the ass, but coming from Greed, it felt more.. reassuring. Less arrogant, more openly honest.
His throat twitched as he regarded the other, mentally floundering for some way out of this proposition. He was honest everywhere but with his feelings. The people around him had enough trouble without hearing his bemoaning. Yet despite himself, a rolling groan slid from his lips, "I don't know, maybe we could start with the theoretical end of the world coming in a few months? Or maybe that I'm stuck fucking around in the woods until then? That I don't even get to do anything except duck my head 'nd let other people do the work that I should be doing?" The more he let loose, the more aggressive his gesturing became. His angry waving only paused when he felt the wood beneath him creak, realizing Greed had gotten up and sat down next to him.
His train of thought had been derailed, leaving a directionless pool of dread for him to wade through. How many times had he been helpless in his life? It was getting to be irritatingly often nowadays. At this rate, he was going to be dead weight by the time—
"You really are a workaholic, y'know," Greed piped up, chin propped up by the back of his hand.
"Tch, yeah, what tipped you off?" he snipped, some buried nerve twinging at the comment.
"Never happy unless you're moving around, though 'happy' is a bit of a stretch."
"Would rather do something than sit around and- mope." The irony of his complaint wasn't lost on him. He was scrunched up on a fallen tree, doing exactly what he didn't want to do.
"Not much you can do at this hour without ticking off the happy couple," Greed hummed, a languid sigh leaving him as he slid to the ground, kicking back against the log.
"..yeah, yeah, point taken, I guess," Ed ground his chin into his palm, grumbling to himself.
He almost expected some other quip to rise from the lazing homunculus, but none was made. Silence settled once more, only interrupted by the occasional snore sounding behind them. It felt.. weird, but sort of nice to just exist with someone else. Thinking about it, he couldn't recall the last time he'd done anything like this since.. since. When was the last time he fucked around? He hadn't taken the time to truly act like a child in years. Maybe Greed had a point.
"Oi," a curled hand lightly bumped against his leg, "what'd I tell you about gettin' stuck in your head?"
"What, you bored?" Ed swatted at the hand, "doubt my thoughts are much more entertaining."
"Not the point. C'mon, don't stew in it, say the first thing that comes to mind."
"If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were playing therapist."
"I take care of what's mine, simple as that." The sudden seriousness to his tone prompted Ed to glance down to Greed, finding an almost piercing gaze. Something about his expression made his chest tighten.
"..right." He looked back to the endless sky, devoid of stars and true interest. "Taking care of your things include awkward conversations?"
"Doesn't feel awkward to me, short stuff," Greed replied curtly, crossing one leg over the other. "C'mon, might not be great with this stuff, but I have a working set of ears."
Ed ground his teeth into his bottom lip, thinking about it. There wasn't a real reason not to, there was just.. hesitation. Hesitation to open up, to look at himself with a critical eye. To think about what kept him awake at night. Why they kept him awake.
"You might have ears, but I sure don't have the tolerance for mushy bullshit," he deflected, shifting around until he was more comfortable.
"Sounds like something someone who's avoidin' the mushy bullshit would say. Ed," he started, and the soft tone and gentle hand shouldn't have startled him as much as it did, "promise I won't be a dick about it. You know I don't lie."
His fingers flexed in the air before being squeezed into his palm, exhaling shortly out his nose. For once, he felt too tired to argue.
"Everything's wrong in the world, and the world's too big to do anything about it." The poison left his tongue deceptively easily; a trickle from the chalice. "So many people died, 'nd for what? Absolute bullsh—" His snarl cut short with a loud groan sounding behind him, his teeth clicking as he shut his mouth. Both of them waited a moment for the sleeping to settle again.
"So you're brooding because you can't, what, fix everything yourself?" Greed asked quietly.
"I can't fix everything but the least I could do is fix the messes I've made," Ed snipped, digging his heels into the dirt to keep himself from raising his voice.
"What messes have you made lately, besides terrorizing the military?" Greed asked, a note of genuine curiosity tucked behind his remark.
What messes had he made? Christ, what a question. His mistakes could have been made into a resume.
"It's a shorter list to ask what messes I haven't made," he grumbled, kicking at a pebble. "Wouldn't even be in this situation if 11 year old me hadn't thought he could do the impossible, that's for fuckin' sure."
"No way to know it was unless you tried, right?"
"Huh?"
"Can't know if somethin's impossible without trying it first. Not always as black 'n white as it seems." Greed put a hand over his chest with a sly look, "you thought it was impossible for a homunculus to exist once."
"Psh, yeah, really was convinced you were lying out your ass in Dublith," he snorted, remembering intimately the twist in his stomach while he watched his shield crawl up his skin. He was still yet to feel that nameless emotion quite so intensely.
Of course, he knew what the emotion was. The name was tucked somewhere in the back of his mind, but he would never acknowledge it. He'd sooner pull out his teeth one by one than think of why darkened eyes and razor sharp claws captivated him.
"And," Greed began again. "You thought talking chimeras were impossible at one point too, now look at ya, traveling with two of 'em," Greed gestured towards Darius, who at some point had rolled to throw an arm over Heinkel.
"And met several more," Ed agreed. Zampano and Jerso. He only mildly regretted clocking them in the face, the excitement of his upgrade tainting any apologetic feelings he might've harbored.
The Devil's Nest too, he recalled with a painful jolt. Glancing to Greed's narrowed eyes, he guessed they were thinking about the same thing.
"They were good people," Ed spoke softly, some guilty wisp urging him to glance away.
"Best people I ever knew." Greed's tone was more wistful than upset, but Ed understood that expression more than anything. Behind his eyes was a touch of unresolved anger; a tired, patient spark. He wouldn't blame him for considering payback, if that was where his mind had wandered. "Still, you certainly gave them the runaround. Had me almost impressed."
"Yeah, well, now you know better than to piss me off."
"Fight like a rat, 'nd trash everythin' in sight while you're at it. Room was a mess." If Ed thought about it, he could've mistaken that tone for fondness.
"Ah, yeah," Ed hummed quietly, a sudden dryness creeping into his throat. "I-I am. Sorry, for everything," he started, before Greed cut him off.
"What's got you apologizing, not like it was your fault."
"I mean." He cursed the softer tone to his voice, "If you think about it, it was."
"Eh?" Greed looked to him, Ed only curling into himself more.
"I'm how Bradley found you," he confessed, recalling that brief, inconsequential conversation before he'd boarded the train for Dublith. Admitting he was visiting his teacher had been a mistake. Bradley wouldn't have even considered stepping foot there otherwise. "If not for that, the Devil's Nest wouldn't of b—"
"Hey," Greed sharply interjected, "I wanted immortality 'nd I went looking for it. You had nothin' to do with it besides being around."
Ed opened his mouth before shutting it again. Finding no good retort, he turned away from the intense eyes set on him. Pretty words did nothing to loosen the knot in his chest, countless nights had he tried to tell himself the same thing. There would always be that small part of him, whispering how it was all his fault.
For a moment he thought the conversation was over, Greed coming to his feet with a quiet grunt. He was happy to let him walk off, until a tattooed hand caught his wrist. Glancing up to him, his expression was unreadable, save for a furrowed brow.
"Just how many things do you blame yourself for?" Greed asked carefully.
Something about the question made a weak snort leave him, "fuck, where do I begin? Al's body, Maes, the Nest-" he paused to swallow, the memory of pulling Martel out of Al's limp form flashing in his mind. He could almost taste the blood in the air again. "Y, your body, getting the Briggs fort 'nd the colonel's people swept up in this mess—" Ed yelped as Greed hooked an arm around him, dragging him forward until they were chest to chest. It took a long moment before he understood what was happening. "Greed?"
"Sh," he shushed him simply. "Shut up and take the hug, you martyr," he told him, none of his usual teasing present.
Edward blindly blinked into his shoulder, breathing as the homunculus only held him tighter. With a shaky hand, he rested his palm against Greed's collarbone. Even with layers of clothing between the two points of contact, he radiated heat. Ed wasn't sure what set him off, the comforting warmth of another or the hug itself, but a tremble crept into his frame. Crushing his face into the offered shoulder, he returned the hug tightly, biting back on the tears welling up.
He hadn't talked to anyone about the things that haunted his dreams. Not even Alphonse knew everything. He didn't need to know about all the times he'd thrashed awake, where Ed could have sworn there was blood in his nose, his mouth, his eyes. That the burning in his lungs was because they were filled with death. That he was choking on every death that should have been his. He almost missed the nightmares of unraveling limbs and failed alchemy, when now the faces that visited him in the night were of people he could have saved.
One of the hands at Ed's back lifted to cup his neck, and the tenderness to the feather-light touch almost made him sob. He felt like an open wound, aching with the despair of never addressed pain. There were no distractions in the woods, no work to be done. No pressing task he could dive into, no excuse to cram down his feelings and never look back. He would have preferred to confront his guilt without anyone witnessing it, but.. some small piece of him knew he never would have. Ed was more than aware of how trapped in his head he was. He'd only echo his worst fears.
Greed held him close until the shudder in his shoulders subsided, Ed letting out a slow breath. He wasn't going to cry into his chest, absolutely not. He'd never live down the embarrassment.
"We should probably join king of the jungle and his man in dreamland," Greed provided helpfully, and Ed couldn't have been more relieved to sweep his outburst under the rug. He was definitely too tuckered out to hate himself at this hour.
"Probably," he hummed, starting to untangle himself from the other. He was let go easily, but he could have sworn the hand that bumped his arm had hesitated to let go. Definitely seeing things. Greed turned on his heel and waltzed towards the fire with his usual swagger. It took a long moment for Ed to remember that oh, he was supposed to follow him. By the time he had trudged over, Greed had already haphazardly unrolled their sleeping bags and flopped down. Propped up on his elbows with an expectant tilt to his head.
"Still too cold out for you to sleep on your own?" he asked, before a grin arose, "or maybe you'd just miss me?"
"Tch, shut up," Ed grumbled, indignant at just how fast heat warmed his face. He dropped onto the other with a huff, curling into a tight ball as Greed dragged him closer. "S'not my fault you're a living heater."
"You're just too small to keep yourself warm.~"
"Oi. Shut your damn mouth," he grumbled, firmly swatting the chuckling chest against his cheek.
"Alright, alright." Ed's fluster traveled to his ears when an arm snaked around him, Greed's palm coming to rest on his lower back. This asshole was going to be the death of him. "G'night shortstack, try not to kick me in your sleep."
"No promises. G'night, ass."
And that was that. They were curled up for the umpteenth time since they'd met again in that decrepit house. It mirrored how Darius and Heinkel were nuzzled close, just enough for Ed to consider exactly how intimate this was. It was for survival, he repeated, nothing more. Nevermind that he'd slept better with someone holding him than he had since his childhood home became a shell. Surely, the slow rise and fall of his "employer's" chest calming him down was just a typical human response. To cuddling before bed. He'd think about it later, maybe.
Ed waited until he was certain the homunculus was dozing, before he squirmed into a more comfortable position. Sighing into the warm coat pressed to his cheek, he let his mind slow to a stop. Later, he lied to himself. There was always the morning.