Notes: Edward centric, Un beta'd
Summary:People would always try things they couldn’t do, would never accept the things they couldn’t change. Would never be anything they weren’t.
All he wanted to do was lie there, bask in his never ending self pity and pretend the only things that existed were him and his crushed dreams. Crushed dreams never got anyone anywhere; he knew this but if crushed dreams were all he had in the world, what right did anyone, least of all himself, have to take them away?
If he was looking forward now, like everyone said, it was no wonder that no one made it anywhere. If he was one of the good ones, one of the strong ones, what hope did any one in the world have?
There was no hope, no such thing as hope, just the dry and bare bones of fact and reality that did nothing but make people thirst for more. But like cowards they sat and continued to pick at the old bones instead. Wait for somebody else to get up and find them something better, more nourishing.
If they expected him to be that fool, they had another thing coming. He couldn’t protect his brother, he couldn’t protect himself, he had no right to even want anything other then pain and suffering.
He was kidding himself and he knew it, for all his deep and meaningful thoughts he was still not a single inch closer to learning anything, making any fantastic discovery that would change the world, and was only repeating what the world already knew – but then, that’s what everyone did.
They thought of new ways to put how bad suffering was, new ways to think about pain and horror and war and blood thirst and regret. Ed knew all about regret, he knew all about guilt, he could write an entire book on the ways he felt those emotions, he could, and had been thinking the first manuscript for quite a few days – ever since his brother had been carted off to some lab.
He didn’t blame anyone but himself, he felt he should blame Roy, but the man had tried. Ed could see suffering in others, if only because he’d spent so many years waking up to it himself. He hated the feeling of hopelessness, and hated even more himself.
He didn’t want to hate himself; he didn’t have the right, not a single goddamn right. He wanted someone to hit him, to tell him he was foolish and childish.
Ross had hit him once, she’d hit him, and if he spent every day of his life thanking her it would never be enough. It would never ever make up the lesson he’d learned.
If his pride wasn’t half what it was, he’d thank Roy too, he’d probably even hug the guy, and tell him he was thankful for the work he’d put in, the hours he’s wasted on a lost cause, on the support that Ed didn’t deserve, the silent respect that Ed sure as hell hadn’t earned.
The military dormitories suddenly grew very constricted and he found the air hard to breathe in, hard to think in.
Al was gone. Accept it, move on, plan b.
If he thought properly he’d put together his plan b, rescue Al and go – but fuck it all, he was scared.
If Roy couldn’t protect them from this, what gave him the idea that he could?
He’d probably never admit it aloud, but Roy was strong, the father they’d never had, never wanted but were grateful for all the same. He’d never let anything happen so far, yet he was as lost as the rest of them the day Al was taken away, as speechless as all of them were.
It wasn’t fair, but Ed hated those words more then he hated anything.
It’s not fair. Nothing was fucking fair, it should be the first thing children were taught, nothing in life is fair, never has been, never will be. If people were taught that straight up then a lot of things would be simpler. But no one ever learned a lesson that they hadn’t proven right first anyway.
People would always try things they couldn’t do, would never accept the things they couldn’t change. Would never be anything they weren’t.
And Edward Elric would never be anything but a filthy, lying, hypocrite
Scuffing his toes against the timber floor, in a room that was emptier then Al’s armour, with a heart so low he was beginning to doubt its existence, Edward smiled.
If it worried Mustang’s men when he shuffled into the room no one was game enough to say anything. They merely ushered him into Roy’s office and looked at their feet.
Ed was glad for this, he didn’t want to explain anything, he didn’t want to feel anything, he just had to get Al out, get Al human and then he could drift away.
Al was now all that mattered, no more time for guilt and moral qualms.
“I need a map of the lab he’s being held in”
Roy was startled, but hid it well, and launched into a tirade about how foolish this was, about how dangerous it was, Al was under guard, and they wouldn’t hold back their fire if he even set foot on the compound.
“Neither will I, so I see no problem”
Roy stopped talking immediately, and stared down at the Alchemist with something not quite pity and not quite understanding.
“Very well fullmetal”
As the papers were slipped across the desk, as though Roy had been keeping them in waiting for this, this request that they both knew would not end well, Roy felt as though he was signing the death warrant for Edward himself.
Edward swallowed, took the papers without a moments hesitation and held them to his chest “Thank you…sir”
If Roy had doubts, the tacked on formality had raised its heeled boot and crushed them like so many ants and he felt all the warmth in his body seep out through his fingers and toes and a cold settle in as though it planned to stay for a long time.
“Be careful Fullmetal”
With that his prodigy, his soldier, his friend walked out of the room.