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scriveynerTitle: central power
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist/Supernatural
AU: Mashup
Characters/Pairing: Ed/Winry, Al
Rating: T
Length: 1179
Summary: “What did you SAY when you walked out that door?” Winry had both hands on her hips and looked fit to kill. Ed glanced over the car at his brother, puzzled, and Al just shrugged, showing his hands.
Winry came running out of the door of the bar as soon as the Impala pulled into the lot. Ed was already getting out of the car, and he glanced across the top of the car at his brother, grinning in barely-disguised relief. “See?” he said. “Told ya we’d find her at the roadhouse.”
He held out his hands to Winry, who did not slow her step. “Hey, missed you t-”
Al winced at the very solid sound of fist meeting flesh, and watched as Winry dropped Ed with a straight-on punch. He thought about going for his gun, just to be safe - there was no telling who was out to get them at any given time - but the look Winry gave him made him stay solidly put. “You all right, bro?” he called instead, unable to see Ed from his position.
“God FUCKING dammit!” Well, at least Ed was still conscious. That was always a start.
Winry turned her fury on Ed, full blast. “WHAT DID YOU SAY!?”
Ed pulled himself to his feet, one hand cupped over his now-bleeding nose. “Huh?”
“What did you SAY when you walked out that door?” Winry had both hands on her hips and looked fit to kill. Ed glanced over the car at his brother, puzzled, and Al just shrugged, showing his hands.
Slowly, it dawned on Ed. “I’ll … be right back?”
“I’LL BE RIGHT BACK.” Winry sounded like a thunderstorm. “HOW LONG AGO WAS THAT, ED?”
It was now all Al could do to contain his mirth at his older brother’s predicament. “Uh…” Ed did not look too sure. “Seven… seven months?”
Fire blazed in Winry’s blue eyes. “Seven. Goddamned. Months,” she hissed. “Seven months without a bye or leave, without me knowing if you were dead in a ditch somewhere! Changed your fucking phone number, dropped off the goddamn map - if I find out you were fucking around with Mustang at all I am going to wrap your ballsack around your NECK.”
Ed stared solidly at Winry as she crossed her arms over her chest, fuming. “Are you through?” he asked.
She glared at him. “Mostly. If you ever send your angelic butt-buddy into my roadhouse again, I will use his pinion feathers to stuff my pillows. Capice?”
Al raised his eyebrow, and Ed glanced over at him. “You’ve seen Cas?”
“Well, yeah.” Winry’s brow was furrowed. “Didn’t you send him here to check in?”
Al shook his head, answering for them both. “We haven’t seen Cas in months, Winry. What did he say?”
She looked around. Though the roadhouse sat off a two-lane highway, the road was mostly empty. The few cars in the dirt parking lot looked that way as well, but one could never be sure. “Inside,” she said, inclining her head back toward the building. Al nodded, and Ed tilted his head back, pinching his nose shut in the vain hope of stemming his nosebleed.
The roadhouse had been in the Rockbell family for years. It was a common gathering place for hunters from all paths of life. The bar was dim, a few men wearing truckers’ hats sat on stools, giving Ed and Al the hairy eye s they walked in behind Winry. “Friendly bunch,” Ed muttered, mostly under his breath.
She took them into a small room off the bar. It was marginally brighter, with a large, covered window and painted symbols on the walls. Ed and Al glanced a weather eye over the place, it was covered in wards from floorboards to devil’s trap painted on the ceiling. Winry walked right back out the door, leaving Ed and Al alone for a moment. Al shook his head and looked mournfully at his brother. “I can’t believe that you didn’t tell Winry where you were going.”
“I forgot,” Ed said. “In my defense there was a lot of shit going on.” He tilted his head back further. “Goddamn she’s got a hell of a punch. It’s a wonder my nose ain’t broke.”
“You don’t tilt your head back for a nosebleed,” Al said. “You lean forward.” He walloped his brother on the back, and Ed leaned forward, coughing suddenly. However, only a few drops of blood splattered from his nose. “Told you,” Al said smugly as Ed rubbed his sleeve back and forth over his nose.
Winry reappeared with a bottle of Jack and three glasses, which she set on the low coffee table that sat between the two couches. “Before we get down to business,” Al said.
“Already taken care of,” Winry said, nodding at the bottle. “All of our stock is laced with holy water. Gotta keep some things just between the locals.”
“Clever,” Al said as Winry placed a shot glass before him. Al knocked back his shot with no complaint. Ed eyed his a moment more - just long enough for Al to get that warning buzz in his stomach - and then downed his. Winry watched them closely for a second, before taking her pull straight from the bottle.
“Okay,” she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “So what do you fucks want with me?”
“What did Cas say to you?” Ed asked, frowning sourly. “He’s been AWOL for a while, we don’t have any idea what is going on.”
“He warned me that you to chuckleheads were gonna show up,” Winry said. “Aside from that, didn’t want much else. Scared the fuck out of a few regulars, no one around here is used to random visits from celestial beings masquerading as used car salesmen.”
“I am sorry,” Ed said suddenly. Both Winry and Al looked at him, startled, and Winry reached forward, laying the back of her hand across Ed’s brow. “Hey!” Ed said, knocking away her hand.
She looked at Al. “He doesn’t appear to have a fever. Anything you know of that can resist holy water and still possess someone?”
“Do angels count?” Al said.
“Nope.”
“Then, not off the top of my head.”
“Dammit,” Ed snapped. “Can’t a guy apologize without everyone having a conniption fit?”
“Where you’re concerned?” Al said. “Nope.”
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist/Supernatural
AU: Mashup
Characters/Pairing: Ed/Winry, Al
Rating: T
Length: 1179
Summary: “What did you SAY when you walked out that door?” Winry had both hands on her hips and looked fit to kill. Ed glanced over the car at his brother, puzzled, and Al just shrugged, showing his hands.
Winry came running out of the door of the bar as soon as the Impala pulled into the lot. Ed was already getting out of the car, and he glanced across the top of the car at his brother, grinning in barely-disguised relief. “See?” he said. “Told ya we’d find her at the roadhouse.”
He held out his hands to Winry, who did not slow her step. “Hey, missed you t-”
Al winced at the very solid sound of fist meeting flesh, and watched as Winry dropped Ed with a straight-on punch. He thought about going for his gun, just to be safe - there was no telling who was out to get them at any given time - but the look Winry gave him made him stay solidly put. “You all right, bro?” he called instead, unable to see Ed from his position.
“God FUCKING dammit!” Well, at least Ed was still conscious. That was always a start.
Winry turned her fury on Ed, full blast. “WHAT DID YOU SAY!?”
Ed pulled himself to his feet, one hand cupped over his now-bleeding nose. “Huh?”
“What did you SAY when you walked out that door?” Winry had both hands on her hips and looked fit to kill. Ed glanced over the car at his brother, puzzled, and Al just shrugged, showing his hands.
Slowly, it dawned on Ed. “I’ll … be right back?”
“I’LL BE RIGHT BACK.” Winry sounded like a thunderstorm. “HOW LONG AGO WAS THAT, ED?”
It was now all Al could do to contain his mirth at his older brother’s predicament. “Uh…” Ed did not look too sure. “Seven… seven months?”
Fire blazed in Winry’s blue eyes. “Seven. Goddamned. Months,” she hissed. “Seven months without a bye or leave, without me knowing if you were dead in a ditch somewhere! Changed your fucking phone number, dropped off the goddamn map - if I find out you were fucking around with Mustang at all I am going to wrap your ballsack around your NECK.”
Ed stared solidly at Winry as she crossed her arms over her chest, fuming. “Are you through?” he asked.
She glared at him. “Mostly. If you ever send your angelic butt-buddy into my roadhouse again, I will use his pinion feathers to stuff my pillows. Capice?”
Al raised his eyebrow, and Ed glanced over at him. “You’ve seen Cas?”
“Well, yeah.” Winry’s brow was furrowed. “Didn’t you send him here to check in?”
Al shook his head, answering for them both. “We haven’t seen Cas in months, Winry. What did he say?”
She looked around. Though the roadhouse sat off a two-lane highway, the road was mostly empty. The few cars in the dirt parking lot looked that way as well, but one could never be sure. “Inside,” she said, inclining her head back toward the building. Al nodded, and Ed tilted his head back, pinching his nose shut in the vain hope of stemming his nosebleed.
The roadhouse had been in the Rockbell family for years. It was a common gathering place for hunters from all paths of life. The bar was dim, a few men wearing truckers’ hats sat on stools, giving Ed and Al the hairy eye s they walked in behind Winry. “Friendly bunch,” Ed muttered, mostly under his breath.
She took them into a small room off the bar. It was marginally brighter, with a large, covered window and painted symbols on the walls. Ed and Al glanced a weather eye over the place, it was covered in wards from floorboards to devil’s trap painted on the ceiling. Winry walked right back out the door, leaving Ed and Al alone for a moment. Al shook his head and looked mournfully at his brother. “I can’t believe that you didn’t tell Winry where you were going.”
“I forgot,” Ed said. “In my defense there was a lot of shit going on.” He tilted his head back further. “Goddamn she’s got a hell of a punch. It’s a wonder my nose ain’t broke.”
“You don’t tilt your head back for a nosebleed,” Al said. “You lean forward.” He walloped his brother on the back, and Ed leaned forward, coughing suddenly. However, only a few drops of blood splattered from his nose. “Told you,” Al said smugly as Ed rubbed his sleeve back and forth over his nose.
Winry reappeared with a bottle of Jack and three glasses, which she set on the low coffee table that sat between the two couches. “Before we get down to business,” Al said.
“Already taken care of,” Winry said, nodding at the bottle. “All of our stock is laced with holy water. Gotta keep some things just between the locals.”
“Clever,” Al said as Winry placed a shot glass before him. Al knocked back his shot with no complaint. Ed eyed his a moment more - just long enough for Al to get that warning buzz in his stomach - and then downed his. Winry watched them closely for a second, before taking her pull straight from the bottle.
“Okay,” she said, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “So what do you fucks want with me?”
“What did Cas say to you?” Ed asked, frowning sourly. “He’s been AWOL for a while, we don’t have any idea what is going on.”
“He warned me that you to chuckleheads were gonna show up,” Winry said. “Aside from that, didn’t want much else. Scared the fuck out of a few regulars, no one around here is used to random visits from celestial beings masquerading as used car salesmen.”
“I am sorry,” Ed said suddenly. Both Winry and Al looked at him, startled, and Winry reached forward, laying the back of her hand across Ed’s brow. “Hey!” Ed said, knocking away her hand.
She looked at Al. “He doesn’t appear to have a fever. Anything you know of that can resist holy water and still possess someone?”
“Do angels count?” Al said.
“Nope.”
“Then, not off the top of my head.”
“Dammit,” Ed snapped. “Can’t a guy apologize without everyone having a conniption fit?”
“Where you’re concerned?” Al said. “Nope.”
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