Chapter Text
Hey there, Fullmetal.
Even with no return address on the envelope, Ed knew there was only one person in the world who would preface a letter to him that way.
Not only that, it was most certainly the Flame Alchemist's distinctively atrocious handwriting, and that realization confused Ed instantly. Wasn't that bastard supposed to be blind?
With narrowed eyes, Ed continued to read the letter:
You may be wondering already how I'm writing this letter to you with my own hand if I can't even see the paper.
Ed hated how his former commanding officer could predict him so well. Even so, he let out a small chuckle at the fact, as well as at the thought that being blind may actually have improved the Co- no, the General's penmanship.
In the next paragraphs, however, Ed saw no further humor in the situation.
Despite your youth, I've always been direct with both you and Alphonse. Only once have I ever lied to you, and now more than ever, you deserve my honesty. Dr. Marcoh's Philosophers Stone was used to heal Lieutenant Havoc, and what little was left was paid as the toll to restore my own eyesight. Well. For the most part.
Ed's lips curled downward and his forehead tightened. So Mustang had used the stone, knowing full well not only what it had been made from, but the devastation and destruction it had been made for, to further his own ambitions? Not only that, but he'd gone back into the portal, voluntarily this time! The paper crinkled at the edges under Ed's tightening grip.
I knew when Marcoh first made the offer that you would strongly disapprove of this course of action. You may think me some sort of selfish, callous bastard.
Mustang had clocked Ed yet again, and the young man's anger mounted. The single page of the letter ripped at the edges in Ed's fists.
And although a General shouldn't owe a Major, let alone a civilian, an explanation, I believe rank stopped mattering between us a long time ago. After all that you and your brother did not only for me but for the people of the nation I hope to lead someday, it's the least I can do to at least attempt to explain myself. If you’re even still reading, that is.
"Oh I'm still reading, you bastard," Ed grumbled through clenched teeth. "I want to know what you have to say for yourself!"
I previously wrote "for the most part." The stone was so depleted after Havoc was made able to walk again that the vision I had restored isn't all it used to be. There's a significant blur in my peripheral and things get unfocused when held too close. Even now, this is my second attempt to pen this letter. My first attempt barely passed as words, and Major Hawkeye all but forced me at gunpoint to wear reading glasses. Major Armstrong has a theory that it may simply be atrophy, like your arm or Al's body, and that it will correct itself in time. I hope he's right, but even if he isn't, I still got back more than I thought I would when we last spoke.
Ed saw a hole in Armstrong's atrophy theory immediately. Mustang had only been blind for three months tops. But Al's entire body had been inside the Portal of Truth for the better part of five years, and his eyesight was perfect when he wasn't having dizzy spells that he was becoming increasingly less prone to as his heart grew stronger.
No. Marcoh's stone had been an incomplete prototype model to start with. After doing something as complex as repairing a severed spine, there's no way there was enough for Mustang to regain all he'd lost. Mustang had traded an imperfect stone for imperfect eyesight. He'd traded perfect eyesight for a friend who could walk again.
You get what you pay for.
In alchemy and in life.
That's equivalent exchange.
When you came to me in the hospital that day, I told you I had accepted that my eyesight was the price of my ambition. Without that offer from Marcoh, I would still have kept moving forward, even if I had to stumble and feel my way through with more difficulty than planned. Letting Breda read to me at my bedside was certainly a much-needed lesson in humility. So please know that I didn't seek out the stone of my own accord as an easy way out. Even so, when Marcoh offered me the stone, I didn't hesitate to accept, though not before putting Havoc back on his feet.
Because you see, Fullmetal, it not just Havoc I want to see standing strong again. It's Amestris. It's Ishval. It's Aerego and Creta and Milos.
It's peace. It's integrity. It's democracy and the just rule of law.
And you can call me arrogant. Call me a fool. Call me a bastard and a creep and every other word you didn't think I heard you use to describe me throughout your brief but world-altering career as a dog of the military. But I know that I'm the only one who can change this country.
I'm not asking you to forgive what I've done. I'm not even asking you to understand, and I'm certainly not asking you to agree. But like I said. I owe you this explanation. Do with it as you will.
Always moving forward,
Major General Roy Mustang
P.S: I hope you still have my money, Fullmetal. You'll be paying it back very soon.
By the end of the letter, Ed was seething. He crumpled up the letter and was about to throw the paper ball across the room when Al walked in.
"Brother? What's wrong?"
Ed threw the letter at Al. "Damn that arrogant prick!"
"Ed, what - hey!"
Ed shoved his way past Al as he stormed out of their shared bedroom. "Read it yourself!" he shouted down the hall without turning around.
Al sat down at the small desk in the corner of the bedroom, propping up his crutch against the back of the chair. He carefully straightened out the paper and read the General's words.
By the time he was finished, there were tears on the page.