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scriveynerTitle: terror in the night
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
AU: Tobira no Mukou e
Characters/Pairing: Nick, Takeo
Rating: T
Length: 1096
Summary: He had never told Takeo.
It was not that Nicholas was afraid of trains, per se - he had grown up around them in their modern form, bullet trains and elevated subways, public transportation at its finest (and occasionally worst). Even graduating backwards, to old steam engines and rickety carriage cars, he had never actually feared them. But something had changed, and Nicholas sat on the hard wooden bench, ramrod straight, his hands in fists braced on his knees as Takeo sprawled across from him, lost in the wonders of a good book.
The ball bearings in his right hand clicked as Nick tightened his fist and fought gamely against the panic that threatened to overwhelm him. It had been two years since that, he had been on many more trains since then, trains in worse condition than this passenger car … he had had plenty of time to quell this tightness in his chest, this thing of nightmares. Nicholas stared at his fists on his knees - one hand warm flesh, the other cold, reflective steel - braced on casual trousers of dark brown. He was afraid to even look at Takeo, lest the terror creep onto his face and merit explanation.
He had never told Takeo.
Nicholas closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. One of the many exercises that Winry had given him, in the recovery period from the initial automail surgery, was a simple breathing exercise. It was used to calm the mind and regulate pain, but it also helped him focus. When he opened his eyes again he felt a little better, that knot in his chest had loosened, and he no longer felt like he was going to redecorate the floor with his lunch. He raised his eyes to see Takeo staring at him over the top of his book, dark eyes worried. “You okay, man? You look a little pale.”
“Lunch didn’t agree with me,” It was only a little lie, Nicholas reasoned. He was nauseous, but not because of lunch. “And then you’re sitting there with your nose jammed in a book. I don’t know how you read on the train, you make me carsick just watching you.”
Takeo shoved his glasses up with his middle finger, and Nicholas managed a wan smile. “Unlike some people I could mention, I have to keep up my studies if I want to get certified in fire alchemy,” he said haughtily.
“Dude, you’re still on that?” Nicholas sat back, the pressure in his head easing. “I thought Mustang was going to have kittens when you mentioned that was your area of focus.”
Takeo flushed, pleased at the roundabout compliment. “He’s just worried that someone younger and sexier is going to come around and steal all his glory.”
Nicholas could not help the guffaw, it escaped before he could choke it down. Takeo glared at him in response. “Just for that, as soon as I figure out how, I am setting your hair on fire.”
It felt good to laugh, it felt like it had been far too long since he had had the chance. Nicholas wiped away the tears of mirth as Takeo sulked behind his volume of arcane alchemic lore. “You haven’t figured out how,” Nicholas snickered. “It’s not, that’s so basic even I know it, and I don’t know the first fuckin’ thing about alchemy-”
“Bullshit,” Takeo snapped at him. “I’ve seen you transmute.”
Nicholas waved his hand in the air. “That’s, that-” It was harder to lie about this, but he could never get it across to Takeo that he did not want that ability. His nightmares, when they were not full of fire and black diesel smoke and twisted wreckage, had been full of all of those violet eyes and grasping, demanding hands. He had been turned inside out, his head emptied out and refilled and he had come through it feeling like he had been taken apart and put together backwards, with missing pieces here and there and extra bits stuck in where they did not fit. He grew quiet, and Takeo stared at him over the frames of his glasses. “That’s different, Takeo.”
He still did not understand why it had happened to him and not Takeo. Takeo, who had been studying alchemy ever since Nicholas had known him, who was the biggest nerd Nicholas knew. Nicholas hated how the expectation was that because he was an Elric, he was a prodigy with alchemy, that he would flit around and be this miraculous alchemist that would be the exclusive property of the military, a weapon at their disposal. He was none of those things, no matter what nonsense the Gate had filled his head with. The ability to transmute matter did not make him an alchemist.
“I don’t get you,” Takeo said finally. “I really don’t.”
“It’s okay,” Nicholas said. “I get your mom.”
#
Nick rubbed his forehead ruefully as they disembarked the train. “Was it really necessary for you to wing your book at me?” he said for the fifth time, following Takeo down the crowded train platform. “That thing has wicked corners on the cover.”
Takeo glared at him, and Nicholas grinned. This was the way things were supposed to be. He stopped, and Takeo kept walking, almost immediately absorbed by the crowd in the train station. From his position Nicholas could see the clock hanging on the post, just in time to hear the evening chimes. An unexpected shiver ran down his spine but he shook it off quickly. He had buried that watch, burned and warped by the fire, stopped forever with the hands affixed at the moment of the crash. They were both alive, and as whole as they could be. Nicholas made a fist with his automail hand and looked down at it, before letting the grin flit across his face.
“Bitch!” he heard Takeo shout from near the exit. “Keep up, or I’m leaving you here!”
“Freak!” Nicholas shouted in return, and kept moving through the crowds.
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
AU: Tobira no Mukou e
Characters/Pairing: Nick, Takeo
Rating: T
Length: 1096
Summary: He had never told Takeo.
It was not that Nicholas was afraid of trains, per se - he had grown up around them in their modern form, bullet trains and elevated subways, public transportation at its finest (and occasionally worst). Even graduating backwards, to old steam engines and rickety carriage cars, he had never actually feared them. But something had changed, and Nicholas sat on the hard wooden bench, ramrod straight, his hands in fists braced on his knees as Takeo sprawled across from him, lost in the wonders of a good book.
The ball bearings in his right hand clicked as Nick tightened his fist and fought gamely against the panic that threatened to overwhelm him. It had been two years since that, he had been on many more trains since then, trains in worse condition than this passenger car … he had had plenty of time to quell this tightness in his chest, this thing of nightmares. Nicholas stared at his fists on his knees - one hand warm flesh, the other cold, reflective steel - braced on casual trousers of dark brown. He was afraid to even look at Takeo, lest the terror creep onto his face and merit explanation.
He had never told Takeo.
Nicholas closed his eyes and focused on his breathing. One of the many exercises that Winry had given him, in the recovery period from the initial automail surgery, was a simple breathing exercise. It was used to calm the mind and regulate pain, but it also helped him focus. When he opened his eyes again he felt a little better, that knot in his chest had loosened, and he no longer felt like he was going to redecorate the floor with his lunch. He raised his eyes to see Takeo staring at him over the top of his book, dark eyes worried. “You okay, man? You look a little pale.”
“Lunch didn’t agree with me,” It was only a little lie, Nicholas reasoned. He was nauseous, but not because of lunch. “And then you’re sitting there with your nose jammed in a book. I don’t know how you read on the train, you make me carsick just watching you.”
Takeo shoved his glasses up with his middle finger, and Nicholas managed a wan smile. “Unlike some people I could mention, I have to keep up my studies if I want to get certified in fire alchemy,” he said haughtily.
“Dude, you’re still on that?” Nicholas sat back, the pressure in his head easing. “I thought Mustang was going to have kittens when you mentioned that was your area of focus.”
Takeo flushed, pleased at the roundabout compliment. “He’s just worried that someone younger and sexier is going to come around and steal all his glory.”
Nicholas could not help the guffaw, it escaped before he could choke it down. Takeo glared at him in response. “Just for that, as soon as I figure out how, I am setting your hair on fire.”
It felt good to laugh, it felt like it had been far too long since he had had the chance. Nicholas wiped away the tears of mirth as Takeo sulked behind his volume of arcane alchemic lore. “You haven’t figured out how,” Nicholas snickered. “It’s not, that’s so basic even I know it, and I don’t know the first fuckin’ thing about alchemy-”
“Bullshit,” Takeo snapped at him. “I’ve seen you transmute.”
Nicholas waved his hand in the air. “That’s, that-” It was harder to lie about this, but he could never get it across to Takeo that he did not want that ability. His nightmares, when they were not full of fire and black diesel smoke and twisted wreckage, had been full of all of those violet eyes and grasping, demanding hands. He had been turned inside out, his head emptied out and refilled and he had come through it feeling like he had been taken apart and put together backwards, with missing pieces here and there and extra bits stuck in where they did not fit. He grew quiet, and Takeo stared at him over the frames of his glasses. “That’s different, Takeo.”
He still did not understand why it had happened to him and not Takeo. Takeo, who had been studying alchemy ever since Nicholas had known him, who was the biggest nerd Nicholas knew. Nicholas hated how the expectation was that because he was an Elric, he was a prodigy with alchemy, that he would flit around and be this miraculous alchemist that would be the exclusive property of the military, a weapon at their disposal. He was none of those things, no matter what nonsense the Gate had filled his head with. The ability to transmute matter did not make him an alchemist.
“I don’t get you,” Takeo said finally. “I really don’t.”
“It’s okay,” Nicholas said. “I get your mom.”
Nick rubbed his forehead ruefully as they disembarked the train. “Was it really necessary for you to wing your book at me?” he said for the fifth time, following Takeo down the crowded train platform. “That thing has wicked corners on the cover.”
Takeo glared at him, and Nicholas grinned. This was the way things were supposed to be. He stopped, and Takeo kept walking, almost immediately absorbed by the crowd in the train station. From his position Nicholas could see the clock hanging on the post, just in time to hear the evening chimes. An unexpected shiver ran down his spine but he shook it off quickly. He had buried that watch, burned and warped by the fire, stopped forever with the hands affixed at the moment of the crash. They were both alive, and as whole as they could be. Nicholas made a fist with his automail hand and looked down at it, before letting the grin flit across his face.
“Bitch!” he heard Takeo shout from near the exit. “Keep up, or I’m leaving you here!”
“Freak!” Nicholas shouted in return, and kept moving through the crowds.
