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scriveynerTitle: screaming silence
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
AU: Reverse'verse
Characters/Pairing: Roy/Ed
Rating: T
Length: 1074
Summary:
The flat was plenty large for a single person - one bedroom, one bath, a kitchen and a good-sized den. No room for an office, but that was all right; Edward planned to leave the office AT the office, he didn’t need a study. It was in a well-traveled military neighborhood; there was a couple who lived upstairs that seemed nice, if a little off-put by the newly promoted colonel.
The movers hadn’t come yet; the flat was still empty. It seemed small, though - plain, bare beige walls and clean white tile that reflected the harsh florescent light. Edward ran his automail fingers along the counter as he paced the kitchen silently.
It had been a find, Alphonse waving the paper triumphantly - better than the military barracks, it wouldn’t do for an officer to be living among the soldiers - but Edward was still completely unsure. He had lived in many places in his short life, but one thing he had never done was live alone.
He could hear the upstairs neighbors - not clearly, but the occasional movement of feet above his head. However there was no Winry bustling out of the kitchen, oil streaked on her forehead from where she had triumphantly fixed the leaking faucet No fighting for space with Alphonse in the old operating room-turned-study.
(No Roy, to bump shoulders with companionably as they fixed breakfast.)
Edward dismissed the thoughts by pacing out the bedroom again. The flat did not come furnished, and he had to actually buy furniture for the first time in his life. He had wanted to hand-make some things but Alphonse talked him out of it - he had a salary now, on top of the State Alchemist expense account, and it was time for him to buy his own things.
Besides, Alphonse had argued, having horned skulls on the headboard might concern some people.
Edward lingered in the doorway and feigned a small smile, although he did not know who he was smiling for. His brother tried, really - he had been trying to set Edward up on dates, anything to get him out of his funk. He was too busy for that, though. Having been nominated and accepted for a promotion, moving from General Grumman’s command to General Dalton’s - and then being orphaned very quickly from that command when Dalton became acting-Fuhrer.
Technically his reporting officer was now General Baxter; but Edward had never met the man and things seemed to be working just fine as they had before Dalton accepted that nomination, so maybe nothing else would change there. But with his own promotion he had to assemble a staff from the junior officers.
The funny thing was, the day after he was promoted four junior officers applied in for the assembling command. Havoc’s name he had expected to see; they had discussed this from day one. Hawkeye’s … had been more of a surprise. After the funeral, two years ago he had seen her once, in passing, in the halls of Central. It was encouraging, and terrifying, to even think of someone he respected like Riza Hawkeye being his subordinate. It seemed like it should really be the other way around.
The other two were Breda and Fuery. Edward had met with them and Havoc in a tavern off-base, in civilian clothes. As much as he wanted to surround himself with allies, the fact that Mustang’s old unit seemed to be reforming under someone else from that very unit would not only send up every red flag on base, it would also catch the attention of the acting-Fuhrer. Fortunately, everyone agreed with his sentiment and there were no hard feelings to be had. He knew that he could count and Breda and Fuery both - Breda having gone to the North to serve with Falman under General Armstrong, and Fuery to the East to work in the Intelligence department with his brother.
That left two open slots in his command that were still yet to be filled. It was yet another piece of the puzzle that had not come together, but there was still time. He was very young to be a Colonel. There was a long road ahead to even get to where Roy was when Edward met him, nevermind where he needed to be to advance his path.
Edward walked into the hallway and through the foyer, into the den. The room was completely empty save the large, empty hearth - and an ancient grandfather clock. It was the only piece of furniture that Edward had brought with him … it had come, with three boxes, from the executor of Roy’s estate.
Edward hated the clock. It barely kept time correctly, it had to be wound far more frequently than once a month, and the chimes were strange and discordant. He would wake to it, in the middle of the night, and remember lying half-awake in Roy’s arms as it faintly chimed the new day.
He had not even known that Roy had a will, nevermind had left provisions for both the Elric brothers. He suspected it was to allay suspicion, but both Hawkeye and Havoc had parcels as well. Roy had left him the damn clock - for what reason Edward didn’t know, perhaps simply to remind him how much Edward could hate the man when he was an ass. The other three boxes he had not opened yet, and still sat sealed in Granny Pinako’s attic. It was bad enough knowing the memories this clock held. What else could be in those boxes?
He sat, finally tired of pacing, his back against the wall underneath the large picture window in the den. It was across from the clock, which ticked ominously and Edward tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling. The movers would be here soon, with his new furniture and his sparse belongings and probably four times his weight in books. Then there would be unpacking, and a housewarming party, and then -
- and then Edward would be left in his new home.
Alone.
Edward rested his head on his folded arms and listened to the soothing heartbeat sound of the old clock ticking and waited.
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
AU: Reverse'verse
Characters/Pairing: Roy/Ed
Rating: T
Length: 1074
Summary:
The flat was plenty large for a single person - one bedroom, one bath, a kitchen and a good-sized den. No room for an office, but that was all right; Edward planned to leave the office AT the office, he didn’t need a study. It was in a well-traveled military neighborhood; there was a couple who lived upstairs that seemed nice, if a little off-put by the newly promoted colonel.
The movers hadn’t come yet; the flat was still empty. It seemed small, though - plain, bare beige walls and clean white tile that reflected the harsh florescent light. Edward ran his automail fingers along the counter as he paced the kitchen silently.
It had been a find, Alphonse waving the paper triumphantly - better than the military barracks, it wouldn’t do for an officer to be living among the soldiers - but Edward was still completely unsure. He had lived in many places in his short life, but one thing he had never done was live alone.
He could hear the upstairs neighbors - not clearly, but the occasional movement of feet above his head. However there was no Winry bustling out of the kitchen, oil streaked on her forehead from where she had triumphantly fixed the leaking faucet No fighting for space with Alphonse in the old operating room-turned-study.
(No Roy, to bump shoulders with companionably as they fixed breakfast.)
Edward dismissed the thoughts by pacing out the bedroom again. The flat did not come furnished, and he had to actually buy furniture for the first time in his life. He had wanted to hand-make some things but Alphonse talked him out of it - he had a salary now, on top of the State Alchemist expense account, and it was time for him to buy his own things.
Besides, Alphonse had argued, having horned skulls on the headboard might concern some people.
Edward lingered in the doorway and feigned a small smile, although he did not know who he was smiling for. His brother tried, really - he had been trying to set Edward up on dates, anything to get him out of his funk. He was too busy for that, though. Having been nominated and accepted for a promotion, moving from General Grumman’s command to General Dalton’s - and then being orphaned very quickly from that command when Dalton became acting-Fuhrer.
Technically his reporting officer was now General Baxter; but Edward had never met the man and things seemed to be working just fine as they had before Dalton accepted that nomination, so maybe nothing else would change there. But with his own promotion he had to assemble a staff from the junior officers.
The funny thing was, the day after he was promoted four junior officers applied in for the assembling command. Havoc’s name he had expected to see; they had discussed this from day one. Hawkeye’s … had been more of a surprise. After the funeral, two years ago he had seen her once, in passing, in the halls of Central. It was encouraging, and terrifying, to even think of someone he respected like Riza Hawkeye being his subordinate. It seemed like it should really be the other way around.
The other two were Breda and Fuery. Edward had met with them and Havoc in a tavern off-base, in civilian clothes. As much as he wanted to surround himself with allies, the fact that Mustang’s old unit seemed to be reforming under someone else from that very unit would not only send up every red flag on base, it would also catch the attention of the acting-Fuhrer. Fortunately, everyone agreed with his sentiment and there were no hard feelings to be had. He knew that he could count and Breda and Fuery both - Breda having gone to the North to serve with Falman under General Armstrong, and Fuery to the East to work in the Intelligence department with his brother.
That left two open slots in his command that were still yet to be filled. It was yet another piece of the puzzle that had not come together, but there was still time. He was very young to be a Colonel. There was a long road ahead to even get to where Roy was when Edward met him, nevermind where he needed to be to advance his path.
Edward walked into the hallway and through the foyer, into the den. The room was completely empty save the large, empty hearth - and an ancient grandfather clock. It was the only piece of furniture that Edward had brought with him … it had come, with three boxes, from the executor of Roy’s estate.
Edward hated the clock. It barely kept time correctly, it had to be wound far more frequently than once a month, and the chimes were strange and discordant. He would wake to it, in the middle of the night, and remember lying half-awake in Roy’s arms as it faintly chimed the new day.
He had not even known that Roy had a will, nevermind had left provisions for both the Elric brothers. He suspected it was to allay suspicion, but both Hawkeye and Havoc had parcels as well. Roy had left him the damn clock - for what reason Edward didn’t know, perhaps simply to remind him how much Edward could hate the man when he was an ass. The other three boxes he had not opened yet, and still sat sealed in Granny Pinako’s attic. It was bad enough knowing the memories this clock held. What else could be in those boxes?
He sat, finally tired of pacing, his back against the wall underneath the large picture window in the den. It was across from the clock, which ticked ominously and Edward tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling. The movers would be here soon, with his new furniture and his sparse belongings and probably four times his weight in books. Then there would be unpacking, and a housewarming party, and then -
- and then Edward would be left in his new home.
Alone.
Edward rested his head on his folded arms and listened to the soothing heartbeat sound of the old clock ticking and waited.
