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Title: Jumbled Truths
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist/Supernatural
AU: Mashup
Characters/Pairing: Ed, Al
Rating: T
Length: 715
Summary: Al loved his brother, he really did, but Ed couldn't carry a tune in a bucket.
Al turned off the faucet in the bathroom, and with he running water cut off he could hear Ed’s voice echoing through the pipes. He was singing - badly, off-key - in the shower, the melody long since lost and being too far away for Al to even hopelessly guess at what song he was currently mangling. Al loved his brother, he really did, but Ed couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket.
Ed had come back late the previous night, looking bone weary and as if he had aged a couple of years in the week or so since Al had seen him. There was a fresh scrape on his jaw and he seemed pleased with himself - “found a hunt,” Ed had explained cheerfully. “We might want to avoid Little Rock for a while.”
No mention of Mustang. Al brushed his teeth, one hand on the old sink, and tried not to frown. Ed had not mentioned Mustang’s name once - just rambled about the hunt he had wandered off on, talked about some excellent burgers he had there, and then proceeded to call Al a couple of different names before falling face-first on his bed and passing out. Al had been going to sleep late and getting up early, trying to maximize the amount of time spent studying. There was so much knowledge locked in the archives here, and it was easy to lose hours just browsing, never mind pulling books and reading. When he finally went to go check on Ed, Ed was dead to the world asleep, a pillow crushed to his chest and still wearing his combat boots. Al sighed, pulled Ed’s boots off and threw a blanket over his older brother, before going to get a sandwich from the kitchen.
It really wasn’t his place to get involved. They both knew the risks of even attempting relationships when their lives were a giant fucking mess, and that was even before you took into account angels, demons, and trying to conjugate the plural of Apocalypse But all the same Al was worried. Ed was terrific at damping down his emotions and burying them in the hope that he would not have to deal with the eventual blowout (and they always, always did). Al had even tried to call Mustang on his brother’s behalf and the telephone number had been disconnected. That was never a good sign.
Ed came bouncing out of the showers, humming merrily, a towel around him and wrapped around his hair. Al paused to watch him flounce by, and then Ed doubled back, sticking his head into the room. “Eggs for breakfast?” Ed asked. “We have eggs. The eggs aren’t bad. Eggs and bacon! Maybe ham, is there still ham in the fridge?” Without waiting for Al’s response Ed disappeared down the hall to his own bedroom.
Al stood there with the toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, slightly disconcerted. Ed only ever seemed this lighthearted after he had gotten some long-overdue action.”Have you heard from Rian?” Ed called through the closed door, loud enough for Al to hear even now. “Any progress on the translation?”
"None yet," Alphonse rinsed his toothbrush and hesitated a moment before he put it away. "Hey, Ed?"
"Hm?" The door to Ed’s room opened and he was mostly dressed - his hair was wet and hanging limply against his face, the ends brushing his shoulders. Al wasn’t used to Ed with longer hair, even now - and Ed pulled his hair back deftly into a small, spiky ponytail at the base of his neck. "What is it?"
"Let’s - " Let’s go talk to Mustang together, I don’t want you sad, brother, this isn’t right. "Let’s go see Winry soon, okay?"
Ed gave Al a strange look, and shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat,” he said. “Breakfast. Bacon or ham? Or both? Because I can handle both.”
"Ham," Al said, and Ed rolled his eyes. "Fiiiiiine. Just ham, then."
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist/Supernatural
AU: Mashup
Characters/Pairing: Ed, Al
Rating: T
Length: 715
Summary: Al loved his brother, he really did, but Ed couldn't carry a tune in a bucket.
Al turned off the faucet in the bathroom, and with he running water cut off he could hear Ed’s voice echoing through the pipes. He was singing - badly, off-key - in the shower, the melody long since lost and being too far away for Al to even hopelessly guess at what song he was currently mangling. Al loved his brother, he really did, but Ed couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket.
Ed had come back late the previous night, looking bone weary and as if he had aged a couple of years in the week or so since Al had seen him. There was a fresh scrape on his jaw and he seemed pleased with himself - “found a hunt,” Ed had explained cheerfully. “We might want to avoid Little Rock for a while.”
No mention of Mustang. Al brushed his teeth, one hand on the old sink, and tried not to frown. Ed had not mentioned Mustang’s name once - just rambled about the hunt he had wandered off on, talked about some excellent burgers he had there, and then proceeded to call Al a couple of different names before falling face-first on his bed and passing out. Al had been going to sleep late and getting up early, trying to maximize the amount of time spent studying. There was so much knowledge locked in the archives here, and it was easy to lose hours just browsing, never mind pulling books and reading. When he finally went to go check on Ed, Ed was dead to the world asleep, a pillow crushed to his chest and still wearing his combat boots. Al sighed, pulled Ed’s boots off and threw a blanket over his older brother, before going to get a sandwich from the kitchen.
It really wasn’t his place to get involved. They both knew the risks of even attempting relationships when their lives were a giant fucking mess, and that was even before you took into account angels, demons, and trying to conjugate the plural of Apocalypse But all the same Al was worried. Ed was terrific at damping down his emotions and burying them in the hope that he would not have to deal with the eventual blowout (and they always, always did). Al had even tried to call Mustang on his brother’s behalf and the telephone number had been disconnected. That was never a good sign.
Ed came bouncing out of the showers, humming merrily, a towel around him and wrapped around his hair. Al paused to watch him flounce by, and then Ed doubled back, sticking his head into the room. “Eggs for breakfast?” Ed asked. “We have eggs. The eggs aren’t bad. Eggs and bacon! Maybe ham, is there still ham in the fridge?” Without waiting for Al’s response Ed disappeared down the hall to his own bedroom.
Al stood there with the toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, slightly disconcerted. Ed only ever seemed this lighthearted after he had gotten some long-overdue action.”Have you heard from Rian?” Ed called through the closed door, loud enough for Al to hear even now. “Any progress on the translation?”
"None yet," Alphonse rinsed his toothbrush and hesitated a moment before he put it away. "Hey, Ed?"
"Hm?" The door to Ed’s room opened and he was mostly dressed - his hair was wet and hanging limply against his face, the ends brushing his shoulders. Al wasn’t used to Ed with longer hair, even now - and Ed pulled his hair back deftly into a small, spiky ponytail at the base of his neck. "What is it?"
"Let’s - " Let’s go talk to Mustang together, I don’t want you sad, brother, this isn’t right. "Let’s go see Winry soon, okay?"
Ed gave Al a strange look, and shrugged. “Whatever floats your boat,” he said. “Breakfast. Bacon or ham? Or both? Because I can handle both.”
"Ham," Al said, and Ed rolled his eyes. "Fiiiiiine. Just ham, then."