Current mood:	determined
Current music:	Nobody Has to Stay - Mirah

More Drabbles
I keep trying to make them shorter and more drabble-like, but it just isn't working. I think I really like the word drabble as much as I like writing them.

Title(s): Leaving, Bloodletting
Author/Artist: hotarukat
Pairing: Roy Mustang/ Edward Elric
Fandom: Fullmetal Alchemist
Theme(s): #5 - "ano sa..." (hey, you know), #19 - red
Disclaimer: I don't own FMA. If I did, the anime would have a very different ending.
Summary: Two separate drabbles for two separate themes for 30_kisses, featuring angst. Oh the angst.


Drabble Number One for Theme #5

The knock on the door is as forceful as always, and Mustang sets his papers on the floor in anticipation because he knows what will happen next. Fullmetal will waltz in like he owns the place, make an excuse for his visit, then promptly clear the desk of anything that would be a hindrance to them. The office rendezvous have been occurring since Ed returned to East, with no new leads on the Philosopher’s stone. Ed was all too ready to find comfort for his failure in Mustang, who couldn’t find the words to object and hadn’t wanted to.

Like usual, Ed walks in before Mustang responds to the knock, but, for some reason, he pauses two steps away from the desk, eyeing the uncluttered surface with the slightest frown playing at his lips. “Al and I are heading to Sterling tomorrow,” he says without pause and looks at Mustang. “Hawkeye said I’d need to kiss some ass to get the appropriate budget clearance for the trip.”

Mustang slips into his military personae before he can fully process what Ed has just told him. “You’ll need to fill out the proper forms to petition the extra spending money you always burn through. I suppose you’ll want first class train tickets again?”

Ed looks a little relieved, and he immediately goes into a rant about how he deserves as much of the allotted budget as any other research alchemist. Mustang stops paying attention shortly after Ed begins, and the heavy loss he feels twists painfully with each point Ed brings up in his speech. He can tell Ed has been prepared for this argument as soon as he set foot back into East. Ed has always been ready to leave.

“Don't look so pissed just because you know I’m right.” Ed snaps his fingers under Mustang’s nose. “So, do I have clearance or what?”

“You have what you need from me,” Mustang says simply and hastily scrawls some numbers on a piece of paper from his desk drawer. “Just give this to Hawkeye. She’ll know what to do with it.”

Ed pauses when he reaches for the note. Their hands are almost touching. “Hey, you know…”

“Hawkeye will make the rest of the arrangements. You’re dismissed.”

Ed doesn’t try to say anything else, and Mustang doesn’t spare a second thought about what the unspoken words between them might have been because he knows Ed’s fake sentimentality and awkward apologies for leaving would be more hurtful than the silence they shared. Mustang does not want to be coddled by a fifteen year old.
***



Drabble Number Two for Theme #19

Mustang is the first to say something; Ed would later find that alcohol really loosened the Colonel’s tongue about such matters, but even in Ed’s own condition of absolute intoxication, it is a terrible, awkward surprise to hear the Colonel’s words.

“I killed them. I put a bullet in both of their heads.” To illustrate his point, Roy shapes his hand into a gun and points it directly at Ed. “Pop. Pop.” The fake gun recoils with each shot, and Ed can only stare at Roy’s fingers aimed between his eyes. Roy withdraws his hand after a moment, deciding that his ignored vodka bottle needs his attention.

“There was so much blood,” Roy continues when he’s finished and stares into the dark room like he is seeing his past again. Ed tears his gaze away from Mustang’s bitter countenance to see if he can see it too and maybe understand what exactly Roy is talking about. He only notices Fury and Breda passed out on the Colonel’s sofa, and Riza’s silhouette moving in the kitchen. A curl of smoke proves that Havoc is there as well, but the light makes Ed’s eyes hurt, so he turns back to Mustang. The living room is just dark enough for Ed to make out the outline of Mustang’s face from the light cast from the kitchen lamps. Ed almost thinks that Mustang is crying.

“The rest were so much easier. A snap of the fingers and there was nothing left.” Mustang is too far gone to have his fingers make a sound as he rubs them together. Ed downs the last of his rum and coke.

“God, you’re not the only one with a sad past. Suck it up.” Ed waves vaguely towards the kitchen. “My brother is in a fucking suit of armor. I lost my arm and leg.” Ed’s words are only whispers, but he feels like he is shouting because Mustang physically recoils as Ed leans towards him. “Do you know how much blood there was then?” Mustang nods his head slowly, in understanding, but Ed can only see the blood around him and feel the pain of so much emotional and physical loss. He’s covered in red. Ed buries his head in Mustang’s shoulder to make it stop.

“Suck it up, Fullmetal. Have you ever killed an innocent person?”

Ed whips his head back and glares at Mustang hard enough to pierce him, but something in Mustang’s eyes makes Ed soften his stare. Roy is moving his hand along Ed’s arm.

“At least you have parents, Colonel.”

It starts as a competition, trying to up each violent or terrible memory the other has, and Ed aches from the effort, but perversely doesn’t want to lose to Roy. He wants to tell someone for once how hard his life is. They pass Havoc and Hawkeye and Al on their way upstairs but are too busy quietly describing their private tragedies to notice the odd stares they receive. Words spill out of them as if from a freshly opened wound, and they talk at the same time, in between touching, and moaning, and kissing, not really listening to what the other has to say, but finding comfort in letting the poisoned memories out.
***