Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The sky had been spitting an icy mist of rain for the last six fucking days. Greed would know; he’d been aware of every miserable second of it. Six god awful days of nothing but gray and mud and wet, and his once merry band of outlaws was now anything but as they pushed further into the dense forest.

The plan was to stay at least two miles away from the town and its occupants on the other side of the tree line. As if anyone would opt for a hike in this weather.

Hell, Greed was a homunculus, and he didn’t even want to be out here. Sure, the philosopher’s stone at his core could heal the burn in his muscles as the mucky path tried to suck down his boots, but it wasn’t doing shit for the boredom, the monotany, or the specific brand of psychological torture that was the offbeat drip of rainwater on his face. In fact, Greed looked only slightly less miserable than Heinkel, who, somewhere around day two of this, became permanently affixed with the look — and smell — of a big, wet cat. He and Darius kept their complaints to themselves though, the combination of their military background and their chimera bodies hardening them against the elements.

That just left Edward Elric, who Greed felt a strange and borderline annoying need to keep the closest eye on. Secretly, of course, lest the kid blow a gasket in a show of performative, masculine, teenaged self-sufficiency. Some might’ve thought Greed’s current iteration had gone soft, which was, of course, bullshit. The fact of the matter was that in the short time since he’d defected from his family, Greed had gathered quite a few shiny, new possessions, and he wasn’t keen on any of them breaking or getting sick or dying anytime soon. Especially Ed, who was not only unique in the sense that he was Greed’s only full-blooded human, but also his only alchemist. Plus, the title ‘Fullmetal Alchemist’ brought with it all the perks of money, status, and fame (read: infamy) that Greed sought after for himself. The way he saw it, having a state alchemist (read: state fugitive alchemist) working for him got Greed that much closer to his end goal of becoming King of the Entire Fucking World!

...If only the kid didn’t look like he was going to fall apart at the seams.

Greed resisted the urge to look over his shoulder and check on him, instead listening for the odd hitch of prosthetic metal joints that signaled Ed was still slowly limping along. He’d otherwise been quiet as of late, and while Greed would normally celebrate the break from Ed’s obnoxious, hotheaded barbs, now it was all he could do to not check the kid for a pulse at regular intervals.

He sighed and pulled the collar of his coat tighter around his shoulders, gritting his teeth when wrung-out water dripped down the back of his neck.

The weather in this country is miserable.

I hadn’t noticed, Greed thought back at the other reason for his shit mood. Ever since Ling Yao offered his body to the homunculus, he’d made the annoying habit of interrupting Greed’s train of thought every two fucking seconds with his asinine observations.

I honestly don’t think I’ve seen this much rain in my life. How is Amestris not covered in water?

Hey, look on the bright side, prince, Greed thought, at least it’s stopped you from bitching about getting control of my body.

It’s my body, Ling snapped.

Greed glared hard enough that Ling could feel it from his perch in Greed’s consciousness. Maybe things are different in Xing, but here, when you give something to someone, it’s not yours anymore.

A biting wind whipped through the trees, and Greed winced against the spray of water that shook down from the leaves.

Surely ‘sharing’ isn’t a new concept for Amestrians? If this body was really all yours, I don’t think I’d be here talking to you. In their shared mindspace, the projection of Ling’s physical self leaned back, arms pillowed behind his head. Not that I’m complaining. Your company is riveting.

Did that little shit just yawn?

Greed clenched his fists. “Listen, pissant, if you wanna drive for a bit, be my fucking guest. I wouldn’t mind a break from this goddamn, shitty, fucking rain.”

“Uh, boss...?”

“What?” Greed snarled, rounding on Darius.

The chimera eyed him warily. “...Who are you talking to?”

From the back of the group, Ed snickered, and Greed whipped back around with a growl. He was taking back everything nice he ever said about the Fullmetal pipsqueak. So what if he didn’t have all his memories from his first incarnation? He was still pretty damn sure that life had been infinitely better before he first met Ed.

You mean, before Ed first kicked your ass.

Shut up, brat.

The days had been getting incrementally longer and warmer now that they’d made it past winter, but the sun still sank sooner than anyone wanted, bringing the temperature and group morale down with it. Having the best night vision, Heinkel and Greed walked side-by-side, scanning the darkened path ahead while Darius and Ed followed in their footsteps. Greed had so far been good about forcing back the static slurry of memories and sensations that jolted his brain whenever he caught sight of Heinkel’s lion form in his peripheral vision, and if Ling noticed, he at least stayed quiet.

Which was well and good with Greed, because the only thing he felt like examining right now was the forest floor.

Up ahead, a gnarled tree root arched out of the mud, and Greed went to shout a warning over his shoulder, only to be interrupted by a loud yelp from Ed, followed by a wet thud. Greed doubled back to him in a second, mentally waving away Ling’s concern.

“Jeez, kid,” Darius said, already hauling Ed to his feet by his good arm. “Your leg doing OK? This is the fourth time—”

“I’m fine,” Ed gritted, shooting Greed a pointed glare.

Greed pinched the bridge of his nose. “Alright, I don’t know whose brilliant idea it was to skirt around this town, but I just decided it’s a stupid suggestion, and we’re not doing it.”

“Hey!” Ed shouted, making a God’s honest attempt to look down his nose at Greed, who stood almost a head taller. “It was my idea,” he continued, puffing out his chest, “and we’re not going in there. It’s a travel hub, and the military’s gotta be monitoring those.”

In an impressive display of maturity and poise, Greed made a show of leaning down to Ed’s level, hands resting on his knees. “Do I need to remind you,” he said, voice dripping with faux-patience, “how far we are from Central? Hate to break it to ya, but my old man knows you’ll be making an appearance on the Promised Day. No way would he risk deploying troops to search a little backwater this far east when he could be fortifying the city.”

“But—”

“No ‘but’s, pipsqueak.” Greed rose back to his full height and crossed his arms. “I’m the one in charge, got it? Not some runty, little— OW!”

The kick from Ed’s automail foot landed before Greed could even see it coming, let alone draw up his shield.

“Not again,” Heinkel muttered, dragging Ed far enough away that his windmilling arms couldn’t land another hit while Greed hopped one-legged, clutching his aching shin and hissing curses until the bruise self-healed in a flash of red light.

“Call me ‘little’ again, asshole, I fuckin’ dare you!”

Greed considered it. He also considered grabbing Ed by the scruff and dragging him kicking and screaming to the town. Then Ed winced and grabbed his left thigh, and any rebuke died immediately in Greed’s throat.

Excellent leadership, Greed.

Fuck off, Ling.

“Listen,” Greed said aloud, trying to ignore the way pain twisted Ed’s face under his wet plaster of blond bangs, “we’ll make better time if we get at least one good night’s sleep. The last two days, we’ve barely gotten half as far as we set out for, and as much as I love taking the scenic route, if I don’t get out of this forest soon…”

In lieu of finishing that thought, he pulled his carbon shield over his hand and gouged five deep claw marks into the trunk of a nearby spruce. Dramatic, sure, but it was better than singling out Ed’s tin leg as the reason for their slowness, seeing as that would just make the kid want to prove himself yet again. Greed stared daggers at the group, daring anyone to disagree, until Ed finally hung his head in resignation.

Take notes, your highness, Greed thought triumphantly as he retracted his claws from the unfortunate tree. That’s how it’s done.

This time, Ling remained silent.

Chapter Text

Turns out, Greed had been right. No military goons were out on patrol. No bounty hunters rushed to collect them. Hell, there wasn’t even a single wanted poster on any of the buildings, which was a damn shame since a notice blazened with a grumpy mug shot of the country’s littlest state alchemist would have been a hilarious keepsake for Greed to add to his ever-expanding collection of stuff.

Ed had also been correct — less impressively so, in Greed’s opinion — on the point that this was, in fact, a travel hub. Despite the hour and the weather, humans bustled about the glorified pit stop, clogging the sidewalks as they shuttled between trains and cars and hotels. It took them until they got to the edge of town before they found an inn with any vacancy, and even then they only just managed to snag the last two rooms, sparing everyone from the bloody massacre Greed was prepared to unleash if they'd been forced to spend just one more night camping.

When Heinkel tossed him one of the pair of room keys, Greed could've cried. He slid it into his pocket like it was the most precious thing he owned, already planning on filching it the next day, when an impatient Ed broke him out of his reverie by shoving him toward the dining area.

“That was delicious,” Ling all but moaned as he settled back in his seat.

Darius and Heinkel had already retired to their room with a gruff promise of waking everyone up early, and Ling stretched his legs over the empty bench, humming contentedly.

Ed sat across from him, chin resting on his hand and eyes drooping with sleep. “Way to go, fatass,” he said through a yawn, tilting his head back to shoot a lazy smirk over Ling’s pile of empty plates. “I think you could give Gluttony a run for his money.”

Ling likewise put an elbow on the table, leaning toward Ed. “Maybe if you ate more,” he whispered conspiratorially, “you’d grow taller,” and before Ed could start shouting, Ling tossed a crust of bread at him, cackling when it landed square in Ed’s mouth.

That was Greed’s cue.

You finally finished? he asked, bored, and slowly began to uncoil his presence from where he was tucked away. He’d been more or less zoned out for the last hour, only relinquishing control during the course of dinner because Ling enjoyed eating so much. The fact that the prince had stopped stuffing his face long enough to initiate flirty banter with Ed meant his time was up.

“No, wait!” Ling screwed his eyes shut, and Greed smirked at the attempt to force him back down. “There’s still dess—!”

“—Sorry kid,” Greed’s voice rumbled out of Ling’s mouth as he resettled Ling’s face into a sharp grin. He cricked his neck and sat up straight. “I don’t need your big mouth blabbing anything important about— Oh my god.” The homunculus let out a pained groan, and shot Ed a horrified look. “Did you let him eat the whole kitchen?!”

“Let him?” Ed said through a mouthful of bread, “I thought you were the one in charge.”

Greed would’ve punched Ed in the nose if he didn’t think the sudden movement would make his stomach burst. Instead, he let his forehead hit the table. “I’ve only had this body a couple months,” he moaned, “and Prince Brat already found a way to kill me.” He rubbed his belly and wondered how someone as compact as Ling could regularly eat his body weight in food. Maybe he could ask God on the Promised Day.

Ling’s cat-like grin danced before Greed’s mind’s eye, metaphorical eyelashes fluttering way too innocently to not be suspicious. Well, you could give me control for the rest of the night.

Not a chance.

There was a split second where the smile faltered, and Greed felt a flash of Ling’s disappointment zip through his own glutton-induced misery. Then Ling waved him off.

Suit yourself! he sang and drifted to the back of Greed’s awareness.

In the middle of wondering whether it was actually possible for Ling to snore in there, or if Ling was just fucking with him, Ed’s chair scraped across floor.

“Just sleep it off, you big baby,” he said as he stood up, offering Greed a hand. “Let’s go to the room. I’m wiped.”

After weeks on the road, the quiet warmth and darkness of their tiny bedroom was blissful. Ed and Greed stripped down to their underwear, tossing damp clothes haphazardly on the floor, and collapsed on either side of the double bed with little ceremony.

Greed snuggled into the sheets and pulled the blankets up to his chin, savoring the comfort. They only had a few more hours of this before they resumed their journey, and, true to his name, Greed was intent on eking every bit of enjoyment out of their stay as he could. With a happy sigh, he let his eyes fall closed, listening to the gentle tapping of rain against the window.

Then the bed shook.

Greed cracked one eye open, sliding his gaze over to Ed, who seemed to be having trouble getting comfortable. After another minute of watching him toss and turn, Greed’s patience ran out.

“If you’re gonna roll around like this all night, I’m kicking you to the floor.”

Ed just groaned, grabbing his pillow and turning it long-ways so he could sleeping with it under his chest. Then he flipped onto his back, face screwed up, before changing his mind and flipping to his front again.

“OK, kid, seriously, you want me to bash you over the head? Because I’m not above bludgeoning you to get a good night’s sleep.”

“Fuck off, asshole,” Ed grumbled into his pillow. “You don’t even need to sleep.”

“No, but I want to sleep. No way am I gonna be conscious for this horrible digestion process.”

Ed flopped a leg out to the side so half of it dangled off the bed, wriggled a bit, and mumbled something.

“What was that?”

“I said” — Ed raised his head and glared — “that my automail is fucking killing me. So shut the fuck up, and let me get comfortable.” With that, he twisted again, spooling the sheets around himself before finally lying still in a cocoon of blankets.

Greed got a grip on a corner of the covers and yanked them back toward his side, unwinding Ed enough that he flipped back over to face him. “You still complaining? Figured you’d be grateful I got you a warm, dry place to sleep.”

“Yeah, with my money.”

Greed bristled. “‘Your’, nothin’. You work for me, so it’s technically my money.”

Ed huffed a laugh and tried to turn away. “God, you are so full of it.”

Greed yanked again. “Am not.”

“Are too.”

Grabbing a fistful of blankets in his automail hand, Ed jerked them back his way, only to suck in a harsh breath halfway through the movement. Instinctively, Greed reached out, then caught himself, his hand hovering, uncertain, in the space between him and Ed as Ed folded over, cradling his metal arm in his flesh one.

“You, uh, alright, kid?”

Perceptive as ever, Ling’s soul began to stir, floating back to wakefulness.

Hrhmm..? What’s wrong?

“Not you, brat. The other kid.”

That earned him a narrow look from Ed. “Do you have to talk to Ling out loud? You sound like a crazy person.”

Greed dragged a hand down his face. “You know what? Forget it.” He turned on his side to face the wall, taking as many of the blankets as he could with him. “It’s past your bedtime, kiddoes, so pipe down and go to sleep.” With a huff of finality, Greed shut his eyes.

But I’m wide awake now!

“You call me ‘kiddo’ one more time...”

Greed clenched his jaw and folded his pillow over his ears.

Do they have room service here? I could go for a late-night snack.

“How are you still hungry?!” Greed yelled.

“Ling’s still hungry? Hah! What a fatass.”

Rude. Hey, Greed, can you give me control of one arm so I can hit Ed?

“I’m about to throttle both of you if you don’t shut the hell up, I swear to—.” He planted his face into the mattress, slamming the pillow over his head. He heard a muffled snicker as Ed got settled, and he felt Ling’s pout somewhere in the back of his brain, but after a moment, everyone fell quiet. Greed finally relaxed.

Until a few minutes later, when Ed’s next round of fidgeting had Greed fully regretting the day he was reborn. Unfortunately, ignoring Ed meant focusing on the only other person in the room, and Ling, still refusing to retreat fully to their subconscious, gently nudged Greed.

Is Ed’s automail still bothering him?

“Ye—“ Greed caught himself and snapped his mouth shut. Yeah, it’s bothering him, he thought back at Ling. Don’t know why, though. It’s not like it’s raining in here… Greed trailed off when the bed juddered again.

Ling’s consciousness rose up alongside his; Greed could feel it in the pinpricks of oh-too-human concern needling through the roar of possessiveness stemming from his philosopher’s stone. Tentatively, Ling reached out for a share in his senses, and together they peeked out from under the pillow.

Ed was turned away from them, lying on his left side so that Greed could clearly see the bulky metal mount that encased his right shoulder. His right arm was folded across his chest out of view, but the scrape of steel plates and the bit-off muttering of curses betrayed each restless movement.

It’s still raining outside though, Ling explained quietly, his voice so close, and suddenly Greed’s head started to swim as their thoughts clouded together.

“She’ll be back in fighting shape soon,” a voice — no, the memory of a voice, of Ed’s voice — said, and Greed tried to get his bearings in their commingled minds.

He knew he’d never laid eyes on the sleeping girl he could see in his head, but he felt Ling’s familiarity as if it was his own. The image sharpened, revealing a mass of bandages where her left arm should have been, and a stab of emotions wedged itself acutely behind Greed’s ribs before spider-webbing through the rest of him, distilling through Ling’s perspective until Greed felt the distinct sting of remorse and shame and deep-seated loneliness. He braced against it, wondering if it had been this jarring for Ling when he first remembered his past life at the Devil’s Nest.

“Hell, I was only 11 when I got my automail,” the memory of Ed’s voice continued. “It’s not all that bad. Well, aside from knowing every time it’s gonna rain. Oh, and having to put up with Winry’s bitching when I need repairs.”

He remembered letting out a quiet laugh… no, it had been Ling who made that small, watery noise as he swiped a sleeve under his eyes, feeling the cold squeeze of Ed’s hand on his shoulder.

Then the memory receded and Greed felt Ling right there, staring through his eyes, pulling his mouth into a frown as he watched Ed try to get into a position that would put as little pressure as possible on his right arm and left leg. The urge to reach out was Ling’s, and Greed couldn’t help but indulge his want, not resisting at all when he stretched Greed’s hand across the space between them easily, coming to rest with his palm on the ropy bolt of scar tissue where metal joined flesh.

Ed tensed under his touch. “The hell are you—?” He tried to roll on his back, but Greed pushed forward, using his thumb to press into the tense muscle between Ed’s spine and shoulder blade. With a groan, Ed flopped forward on the bed.

“You want me to stop?” Greed asked, ignoring Ling’s frustration when his hand stilled.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Ed said into his pillow.

“Good, ‘cause the prince might throw a fit if I do.”

Hey!

Greed smirked, pushing into Ed’s back with the heel of his hand, cutting off any further embarrassed stammering. Having only felt pain for the length of time it took for his stone to heal himself, Greed couldn’t quite imagine what days of tensing muscles against the ache of inflamed joints would feel like. He winced in sympathy each time he hit a tender spot that made Ed hiss out a breath as he tried to navigate the difference between organic muscles and artificial ones, but at the same time he couldn’t stop himself from admiring the complexity of the automail arm.

Previously when Ed had talked about his mechanic, a starry-eyed Ling helpfully supplied a mental image of the girl: blonde, like Ed — I do not have a ‘type’, Ling had insisted — and about the same age. As a connoisseur of the finer things in life, Greed had no trouble admitting he was impressed with the craftsmanship. The familiar thrill of wanting bloomed in him, and he wondered if Ed would let him have the automail after he got his natural arm back.

If he ever got it back.

“Why the hell didn’t you say it was this bad?” Greed asked after finding a knot that nearly made Ed hit the ceiling.

When he finished with it, Ed collapsed back onto his stomach and shrugged with his free shoulder. “‘Cause it didn’t matter. We had to keep moving.”

Greed rolled his eyes. “You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”

When Ed turned to face him, his glare was only at half-strength, made even less threatening by how much further he had melted into the mattress. “The literal embodiment of greed doesn’t believe in sacrifice? Surprise, surprise.”

There was a dull drag of resistance in the bearings at his elbow when Ed shifted again to get comfortable, and with a flare of annoyance, Greed wondered when the last time was that Ed had bothered oiling the thing.

“Hey, joke all you want, but I like taking care of my things. And you” — he stopped rubbing the junction between Ed’s shoulder and neck to flick him on the forehead — “are one of my things, so stop acting like a reckless, little martyr and—”

Martel's screams blazed across Greed's mind like a lightning strike. The smell of blood and sewage flooded his senses, and he jerked, squeezing his eyes shut against the memory until it faded away, leaving him raw and shaken and empty except for Ling’s fretting from within his mind. When he opened his eyes, Ed was staring at him.

“And, uh…” Greed cleared his throat, tearing his gaze away from Ed’s worrying eyes. “Roll over so I can see your leg.”

“Wha...? Uh-uh, nope, I’m good... HEY!”

Ed flailed like a bug on its back when Greed flipped him, using the momentary confusion to shove the blankets off so he could grab Ed’s legs and pull them across his lap. When Ed’s automail shin flew toward his face, he caught it, metal clanging against his carbon shield, and shoved it back down while pressing the pads of his fingers into the meat of Ed’s thigh, just above the port where the metal leg connected. Immediately, all of Ed’s protests dissolved into a happy whine, and his head lolled back.

Don’t say I never did you any favors, he told Ling, who had been rendered speechless by the view.

Not that Greed could blame him. If Ed could hold his own against Greed’s siblings, it only made sense that he looked like he was carved out of marble. Now this was his domain: plain, simple desire. Greed’s lips curled into a grin.

“I still don’t get you humans,” he said, feigning nonchalance as he inwardly teased Ling for his unabashed staring. “What’s the point of saying ‘no’ to things you want?”

“Well, we’re not all greedy sons-of-bitches like— hmmnfff, ohmygod, yes, right fucking there.”

Greed smirked and pulled his hand off the muscle that ran from Ed’s hip to the outside of his leg. “Sorry, you were saying?”

Ed snatched his pillow and swung it at Greed’s face, muttering a petulant little “fuck you.”

Greed’s grin turned to a delighted leer. “That an offer?”

Ling snapped out of his trance. Don’t be vile.

“Ling, if you can hear me, we need to get you a new philosopher’s stone. This one’s annoying as hell.”

As if Greed couldn’t see Ed’s blush from a mile away. He snickered. “I think the little pissant is enjoying this just fine, thanks.”

Greed!

Ed rolled his eyes, then froze, cheeks going ruddy with embarrassment. “Wait, are you talking about me or him?”

Greed let out a full cackle, and Ed whacked him with the pillow again.

“You’re an ass.”

And you couldn’t be further from the truth.

Greed snorted, batting the pillow away and resumed rubbing Ed’s sore leg. “Don’t know what either of you are talking about. I’m the ‘literal embodiment of greed’, remember? It’s not hard for me to spot when someone wants something.” To drive his point home, he waggled his physical eyebrows at Ed, and his metaphorical eyebrows at Ling. Ed choked and Ling squawked and Greed just laughed until another whack from the pillow nailed him in the side of the head.

Clearly having had enough, Ed gathered his limbs about himself, snatched his share of the blankets, then curled up on the edge of the bed with a huff.

Greed just shrugged. “Suit yourself kid, but if you wake me up again, I’m throwing you into the chimeras’ room.”

Ed snorted. “I’d like to see you try.” Then he settled, still pointedly turned away from Greed, and went quiet.

Greed smirked and settled back as well. “Sweet dreams, kiddoes.”

Chapter Text

“That makes 15 times you’ve died now. How many lives have you got left, hmm?”

“God… damn you,” Greed rasped. Blood pooled around his cheek as he struggled to drag his stump of a right arm under him. The wound’s edges seeped red sparks, his overwhelmed philosopher’s stone hemorrhaging souls, but his hand wasn’t regenerating. The extensive damage across his body was too much.

Führer Bradley — no, Wrath — had all but drained him.

Greed lay helpless as Roa and Dolcetto rushed Wrath, the echoes of Martel’s pleas bouncing off the tunnel walls around them.

A new jut of bone finally sprang forth out of his wrist, and before the alchemized muscles finished stitching themselves around new fingers, Greed was pushing himself to his feet. But Martel wasn’t screaming anymore. Dolcetto and Roa were gone. Their co-mingled blood streamed off the walkway and into the rancid sewer water.

Greed grit his teeth and ignored the way his stomach lurched, instead watching as Wrath brought his sword down in a fast curve to fling an arc of blood across the wall. When Wrath turned to face him once more, Greed lunged.

The carbon shield felt like plunging his right hand in ice water; a fast, cold pull of graphene, starting with the sharp tips of claws, scaling across newly made skin, stopping at his elbow. He was aiming for Wrath’s heart, his eyes hungry, his mouth watering, his artificial soul screaming for what was taken from him. He didn’t stop until he felt his arm warm again under the fresh, hot river of someone else’s blood.

“But… Mr. Greed…”

Bido’s huge, watering eyes looked up at him.

No...

Greed tried to jerk away — no, no, NO — but Bido’s body followed the movement, his blood pouring down Greed’s front.

“I’m your… friend,” Bido choked, and his tears finally fell.

With his clawed arm plunged straight through Bido’s torso, Greed could feel the moment Bido’s heart stopped beating.

Greed shot up with a gasp, clutching at himself like he was expecting the yawning hole of loss in his chest to be something material and bloodied and raw. When his hands pulled away clean, flexing slender and dark in the dim light, his eyes darted nervously to all the shadows painted across the room until he was certain they were all, in fact, just shadows. He sucked in a few long, deep breaths, willing his heart rate to slow. The air felt cold and heavy in his chest, and when Greed turned his gaze to the window, he noticed feathers of frost dusting the edges of the pane, the soft orange glow of a gas street lamp filtering in from behind and making them gleam. Sure enough, when he looked to his left, Ed was snoring softly, curled toward the warm middle of the bed, the blankets pulled tight around him.

He splayed his fingers across his ribs again, like he could rub the ache away, but it didn’t make a difference. This type of damage, this fundamental break between who he was and what he’d done… This was something alchemy couldn’t heal.

Greed sighed and scooted back so he could rest against the headboard. He let his head fall to his knees.

You OK?

Yeah, he thought back at Ling. Just a dream.

He felt Ling’s consciousness rise up before his, projecting a look that suggested he didn’t buy it, but Greed didn’t budge. Since the first time Ling had wrenched away control of Greed’s panicking body, Greed had gotten a lot better at compartmentalizing his thoughts, not keen on suffering another episode of blacking out and waking up with the prince in control, miles away from anything familiar.

You’ve been thinking about them a lot lately.

OK, maybe some things still slipped through.

Yeah, well... Greed rubbed the back of his neck. Kinda hard not to with the Promised Day looming.

You think we’ll see Wrath again?

Oh, I’m counting on it. He fisted his hands in the sheets as the Führer’s stoic glare flashed through his mind. My baby brother is in for one hell of a family reunion.

Good, Ling said, his voice low. I owe him for what he did to my bodyguard’s arm.

Yeah, yeah. We’ll avenge your girlfriend too, don’t you worry.

Ling bristled. She’s not my girlfriend!

Greed rolled his eyes. Right, got it, he thought, as if he hadn’t just been treated to a scene of Ling crying over her bedside. Normally he would’ve let it go, but tonight felt a little different. Maybe it was because he was still shaken from the nightmare, or maybe it was because he actually had needed those precious few hours of sleep to go uninterrupted, or maybe he was simply fed up with half of his internal monologue being contrarian all the time. He let his head flop back to rest against the wall so he could glare at the ceiling. You know, I never lie to you. Ya think you’d show me the same courtesy.

If you never lie, then tell me what you’re planning on doing once we get back to Central City for the Promised Day.

Greed tsked. Nice try, but that’s for me to know and for you to find out.

Ling was quiet for a long while after that, and Greed, realizing he didn’t actually want to be alone with his thoughts, worried that he’d gone back to sleep.

Then he felt Ling shift awkwardly. If he’d been physically present in the room, Greed imagined he’d be shuffling on his feet.

I’m not lying though, Ling said. Lan Fan’s not... I don’t know, it’s complicated, I guess.

Hmm. Greed let his head loll to the side, eyes sliding over Ed’s sleeping form. He waited until he knew Ling was seeing him too. Because of your other girlfriend?

Ed’s not…!

Greed could feel the heat of Ling’s embarrassment rise in his own cheeks and pushed him down before he could make their physical limbs start flailing. Ling attempted to shove back, but Greed’s presence, as it most often did, easily overpowered him.

In their mind, Ling settled on folding his arms with a huff. Ugh, why do I even talk to you?

Because your other option is shutting up and getting absorbed into my philosopher’s stone? Greed offered.

You’re not getting rid of me that easily.

Yeah, because God forbid you let me have a moment’s peace. But there wasn’t much heat in the barb, and when Greed heard Ling chuckle, a small smile tugged at his own lips. After another pause, he said, You know, for what it’s worth, I get it. I mean, I want everything. And I mean everything. What I don’t get is why you’re holding yourself back from getting something you want. He glanced at Ed again. Or two somethings.

Ling sighed. It’s not just that. I need to claim my throne in Xing. That’s my highest priority. Otherwise, everything Lan Fan sacrificed for me would be a waste. And Ed — Ling shifted again — Ed’s only focus is getting his and Al’s bodies back. There’s no point in entertaining any of these... distractions.

Oh, I don’t know about that, Greed said, and he reached a hand over to where the top of Ed’s head peeked out of the bundle of blankets. Ling made a little noise of protest as Greed brushed a finger over Ed’s cheek, tucking wayward bangs behind his ear. The way I see it, just because you want multiple things — he pushed his fingers through Ed’s hair, scratching lightly over Ed’s scalp — doesn’t mean you can’t try to get all of them at once. It’s called ‘efficiency.’

It’s called ‘hedonism.’

Now it was Greed’s turn to give Ling a look. I guess you of all people would know. You did eat enough to feed a small army earlier. He resumed running his fingers through Ed’s hair, from the top of his head down to his nape where it was tied back in a sleep-mussed braid, again and again.

Ling harrumphed.

Face it, kid. You know I’m right. Why else would you have given your body over to me without a second thought? Getting everything you want, everything you deserve, and not stopping until it’s all yours… Greed’s eyes glazed over as he focused inward, his mental gaze boring down into Ling, who stood at the center of him, one stoic soul in the face of countless lost ones. You understand the virtue of avarice, Ling.

Greed’s thoughts turned to the Promised Day, to the power he was going to steal right out from under his father’s nose.

All the power of God.

Dominion over the whole world.

Only then would he finally, finally be sated.

Ling stared back up at him, the expression on his face not quite incredulous, but like he was working something out that Greed wasn’t privy to. Even though he was an indomitable force looming over Ling, Greed couldn’t help but feel that he was laid bare in the midst of this one, small human backgrounded by the wailing, wanting cry of his stone. As if to remind them both of who had possessed whom, that cacophony grew louder and louder, but Ling hadn’t been swallowed up in it then, and he wouldn’t be now, even as it still grew louder and louder and louder, until...

Ed’s head bumped into Greed’s hand, startling him out of his thoughts. Shivering against the chill of the room, Ed had shuffled closer, chasing the warmth, and he let out a sleepy noise when Greed resumed scratching behind his ear. Greed smiled, bittersweet, at the scene. It reminded him of Dolcetto, and he knew Dolcetto would’ve thrown a fit had he ever heard Greed make the comparison.

It doesn’t seem wise to take advice from a sin, Ling thought, bringing him back to their conversation.

Greed huffed. Says the teenager.

Hey, I’m technically older than you!

“Hah! You got me there, you little brat.”

Ed tensed under his hand, his eyes flying open. “Huh...? Wha...?”

You said that outloud.

Whoops.

Ed blinked up at Greed, his bleary gaze clearing as it followed the path from Greed’s face, down his arm, to where Greed’s hand reached past his line of sight to scratch at the back of his head. Ling seemed ready to bolt straight out of Greed’s brain at being caught, but Greed just smiled and continued playing in Ed’s hair. Ed’s eyebrows rose and he opened his mouth as if to say something, before clapping it back shut, deciding instead to shrug and settle back into the bed, quietly mumbling, “You’re so fuckin’ weird.”

“Yeah, well. Don’t ever let anyone tell you I don’t take care of my things.” He scratched a little harder, and Ed inclined his head so he could get a better reach.

“If I didn’t know Ling was in there,” Ed said, his eyes closed as he relaxed, “I’d punch you in the nose for always calling me ‘one of your things.’”

“Like that’s the only thing stopping you.”

Ed shoved at Greed’s leg, but Greed could see the playful smile on his face. They stayed quiet for a bit after that, Ling’s panic abating, Greed’s hand still running through Ed’s hair, Ed occasionally letting out a contented sigh. Then Ed looked up again.

“Ling still awake?”

Greed cocked his head as if he were listening for him. “Yeah, his highness is still up.” And, half because it was the truth, half because teasing Ling never got old, he added, “He likes watching you get pampered.”

Hey!

Greed cackled, and Ed shoved him again, softer this time, just to get his attention. Greed looked back down, his hand stilling as soon as he met Ed’s gaze. With only the low, barely-there lighting from outside filtering in through their tiny, frost-tinged bedroom window, how in the hell could the gold in Ed’s eyes still shine so bright? Perhaps another question for God on the Promised Day.

“Would the two of you pipe down?” Ed said, ruining the moment. “We’ve got an early start.” Then, surprising Ling and Greed, he scooted back and held up the covers. “And get back under here. M’cold.”

He wasn’t sure if he was hearing his voice or Ling’s when their mouth breathed out a quiet “sure,” but Greed obliged regardless, laying back down, and, with a cautious look at Ed, spreading his arm out across the space between them. Ed nuzzled in closer, resting his head on Greed’s shoulder, one warm arm flung across Greed’s waist and the metal one tucked comfortably under him.

Ed yawned. “‘An’ one of you should keep playing with my hair.”

Greed smiled and let his eyes drift shut as Ling took over control. “Alright, kid,” he said, and even if he wasn’t the one moving their muscles, he could still feel the softness of Ed’s hair under their fingertips. “Whatever you want.”

Chapter Text

In nothing short of a small miracle, the weather had completely cleared overnight. The morning air was still chilly when Greed and his crew first hit the road, but the slow brightening of the sky promised no hazy overcast, with only a few puffy clouds hanging near the horizon, melting away as the sun rose over the trees.

Greed hung toward the back of the group near Ed, his leisurely pace crunching through the last remnants of frost on the ground as they eased back into the quiet of the backwoods. He was playing with his stolen room key — tossing it up in the air and catching it again, over and over — directly behind Heinkel, who had made sure to watch as Greed returned it to the innkeeper, but who had also turned away too soon, allowing Greed to slide it back off the counter and into his pocket before they went on their way. Busy counting his remittance, the innkeeper had been none the wiser, and if the stack of Greed’s (read: Ed’s) cash wasn’t enough to assure the guy’s tight-lippedness in the off chance the military did come around asking questions, Greed figured it would at least be enough to cover getting a new key made.

Ed watched him toss and catch it a few more times before rolling his eyes and refocusing his attention on the road, his gait noticeably less clunky than it had been the previous few days. Greed sucked in a deep, cold breath of air and let it out in a happy sigh, watching as the warm vapor dissolved in the breeze. Everything felt right in the world.

“Don’t know about the rest of you,” Greed said, unable to keep the news of his newfound contentment between himself and Ling, “but I slept great.”

Heinkel and Darius hummed in agreement, but otherwise stayed quiet, oblivious to the way Ed sputtered and ducked his head. With a grin, Greed slung an arm around Ed’s shoulders, catching him before his quickening steps could get him to the relative safety of the chimeras’ sides.

“So how ‘bout it, Fullmetal?” Greed asked. He snaked his torso around Ed to bare his toothy smile straight into his face. To his delight, Ed’s already cold-tinted cheeks flared an even brighter red. “Wanna stop in for a rest at the next town too?”

Ed shoved him off, mumbling, “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” but not before Greed caught sight of the small smile twisting at the edge of lips.

I vote ‘yes’, Ling said. Especially if there’s food.

Greed did the mental equivalent of a double-take. How are you still thinking about eating?

Something, something, ‘hedonism’, Ling responded, projecting a smirk into Greed’s mind.

Before Greed could respond, Heinkel looked back over his shoulder and jerked his thumb up ahead to a signpost marking a spot where the path forked. “So where to next?”

Greed went quiet for a moment and pretended to think on it, as if he hadn’t come up with this idea an hour ago.

It was my idea, Ling said.

“Something, something, ‘sharing,’” Greed quipped back.

“Huh?” Darius asked.

Greed waved him off. “Don’t worry about it.” He turned toward Ed and asked, “What say we head toward Resembool?” with such nonchalance that it made it all the funnier when the question stopped Ed dead in his tracks.

“Resembool?” he asked, still stalled in the middle of the path. “What for?”

Not bothering to wait, Greed called over his shoulder as he walked, “That’s where your mechanic is, right? We gotta get your automail tuned up if you’re gonna be in fighting shape on the Promised Day.”

He glanced over when Ed finally caught back up to them and noticed him frowning. Ed kicked at a stone in the dirt.

“We got separated after Briggs. Dunno if she’s even back in Resembool. Although...” Ed tapped his finger against his chin. “Granny Pinako might be able to help.”

Ah. Greed hadn’t been aware of that, but, eager to sidestep that depressing can of worms, he replied with an enthusiastic “Great!”, clapped Ed on the back, and kept walking.

Ling’s presence, on the other hand, swarmed like empathetic sharks smelling chum until Greed had to forcibly stuff him to the very back of his mind, far enough away where he couldn’t ask Ed about his feelings or whatever nauseating thing he planned on doing.

But he’s sad! Look at him!

Greed couldn’t honestly say if Ed’s sour expression looked anything out of the ordinary.

Greeeeed, Ling whined.

Greed rolled his eyes. Fine, you can ask him about the girl later. Preferably while Greed was sleeping.

This satisfied Ling, and he hummed, crossing the metaphysical legs of his metaphysical body and relaxing as the scenery moved by. Since Greed enjoyed the quiet, he decided against reminding Ling that it took nearly a week for Ed to even admit to himself that his automail had been physically paining him, let alone any of that emotional crap.

Speaking of.

“Hey, you think your granny could make me one of those fancy arms?” Greed asked, eyeing the outline of the metal hand jammed in Ed’s pocket.

Ed made a face. “The hell do you need an automail arm for?”

“Not ‘need’, Edward. Want. I want everything! Besides, the prince told me you once beat him over the head with it when it was detached, so don’t pretend they’re not useful.”

Seriously? Ling muttered.

Ed held his arm out as they walked, flexing his fingers so they glinted in the new sunlight. “Winry did do a pretty amazing job.” He smirked sideways at Greed. “Glad to know someone’s jealous.”

Greed scoffed. “Me? Jealous? Please, the name’s ‘Greed’, not ‘Envy’.”

You know, I never really got the difference.

Greed rolled his eyes. “I want everything. Envy wants other people’s things. Got it?”

Ed snickered. “I don’t know, seems like there’s a lot of overlap.”

Exactly.

“We’re completely different!”

“Alright, you two, put a lid on it,” Darius said, coming to a stop. They’d reached the signpost. “Which way?”

They all looked to Greed, then Greed turned to Ed, and Ed rolled his eyes and slouched forward in a shrug, one arm pointing to the right where the path winded off in a vaguely southerly direction. Strange that this uneven, barely-there dirt road was what was going to carry them one step closer to the Promised Day.

One step closer to getting everything he’d been chasing.

Ed’s hand had dropped, and the whole group stood facing Greed with expectant looks. He could feel the dull thrum of their anticipation buzzing in the air, prickling through his nerves, igniting a hunger in him so voracious that it was a wonder they weren’t comparing him to Gluttony instead of Envy.

Before Heinkel could notice he was still holding it, Greed shoved his stolen key back into his pocket. Another sharp grin split his face.

“You heard him, boys. Thattaway!”