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.
Chapter 2
Summary:
A tense dinner culminates in a heated argument. Ed storms out, leaving Al to deal with the fallout alone.
Chapter Text
The brothers didn't see each other again until dinner that night.
Winry pensively watched the brothers while she slowly ate her shepherd's pie. Ed kept his head down as he ate; his bangs hung like a curtain over his face making it impossible to read his expression. Al picked at his food every though this meal was one of his favorites. He avoided eye contact, occasionally glancing up at Ed and sighing silently when his brother never looked up.
One particularly deep sigh from Al and Ed's fist clenching around his fork in response and Winry'd had enough. She slammed her fork down on the table, causing the brothers to jump and Ed to finally look up. Granny only sat silently just as she had for the entire meal.
"Winry!" Ed shouted. "What the Hell is wrong with you?"
"ME? What the Hell is wrong with YOU? What's going on between you two idiots today? You've been avoiding each other since this morning. "
Al worried his bottom lip. "It's not really anything b-"
"It's not really anything that's your business."
"Really, Ed? I thought we were passed this."
Ed stood up so fast that his chair toppled over. "Yeah, well, we're not!"
"Edward!" Al said sternly, not yelling, but raising his voice enough to catch the older boy's attention. He stood up as well, though much more slowly and carefully than Ed had. "I think you're seriously over reacting. And don't take your anger with Mustang out on Winry, she didn't do anything wrong."
"I am NOT over reacting! And it's not just Mustang. Marcoh and Havoc are just as guilty. Are you seriously gonna stand there and tell me you think what those bastards did was okay?"
Al open his mouth to answer, but hesitated. He hung his head. "I don't know."
"Well, figure it out!"
Silence fell again before Ed walked away.
"Ed wait," Winry objected. She followed after him, yelling all the way, leaving Al standing hunched over the table, and Granny still unfazed and continuing to eat her dinner.
"Where do you think you're going, Edward? You can't just storm out like this! Tell me what's going on."
Ed grabbed his coat from the hook by the door. "I'm going for a walk."
"You moron! It's supposed to-" the slam of the front door interrupted her. "... storm tonight," she said softly in the empty front room.
Al groaned and ran his hands down his face. He flopped back down into his chair and shook his head.
"I'm sorry, Winry," Al apologized when Winry returned to the table.
Granny spoke up for the first time. "You've done nothing wrong, Alphonse. It's not your fault your brother's an idiot with a temper shorter than he is."
Winry was about to say something when Granny held her hand up. She waited a few seconds. "That's strange. I thought a short joke would summon him back. Oh well. He'll stagger home once his leg starts aching, assuming he's not planning on making himself sick again, and that's his prerogative." She stood up and began collecting dishes from the table.
"Let me get those," Al said, taking the plates from Granny. "The least I can do after that blowout is wash up the dishes."
"You're a good, kind boy, Al." Granny sighed and looked out the window at the darkening sky. "Ed is, too. He just deals with things in his own way."
"He's always done things in extremes," Winry said while collecting her and Ed's plates. "It can be his greatest strength sometimes, but..."
Al picked up where Winry trailed off. "It gets him into trouble just as often."
Winry hummed thoughtfully before reaching for the rest of the plates. "I'll carry all this to the kitchen, Al. Then you can wash and I'll dry. How does that sound?"
Al's smile in response was warm and genuine, but it didn't quite reach his ears. "Sounds good."
While Al and Winry cleared the table, Granny sat down in her rocking chair with her pipe. The storm clouds were rolling in quickly, and she watched as the first lightning strike flashed far in the distance.
"Please come home, Ed."
Chapter Text
The dishes were almost finished, and Al and Winry worked in quick and efficient silence.
The simple, repetitive task of scrubbing plates gave Al's mind the chance to wander back to Mustang's letter. To the Philosopher's Stone and the dubious ethics of its use. Not that there was anything dubious about creating one; that was pure evil from any angle. But to use one that someone else had created; to use it for good?
It was something that had weighed on Al's conscience ever since that day: the morning of Promised Day when he'd faced off against Pride and Kimblee armed with the stone. Whatever souls he'd used in that fight were now completely destroyed, gone from this world forever. But when compared to the alternative...
"Alphonse!"
A voice calling his name and a hand on his shoulder snapped him out of the thoughts he'd gotten lost wandering in.
"I said your name three times," Winry said. "You were starting to worry me."
All laughed sheepishly. "Sorry, Winry. I guess my mind just wandered off for a second."
Winry slung her dish towel over her shoulder. She crossed her arms and glared sternly at Al. "Alright. Spit it out."
"Hu?"
"I'm obviously not going to get any answers out of Edward, so maybe you can tell me what's gotten into you two."
"I..."
"You're sulking, Ed's brooding, and something happened with Mustang."
Al sighed and looked down at the sink as though he could find all the answers to his questions floating in the soap suds. He knew Winry deserved an explanation, but he didn't know just how much he should say. To explain his own complicated feelings on the matter would be to burden her with the same moral dilemma that had kept him awake more nights that he'd care to admit. Perhaps once he'd sorted out the mess in his own mind, he could tell her the entire truth. But for now, the basics would have to do.
"Marcoh used his Philosopher's Stone to heal Havoc. Then he gave it to Mustang, who traded it to the portal to get his sight back."
"I see," Winry said barely above a whisper. "And Ed's mad that they used the stone for something he perceives as selfish."
"Pretty much, yeah."
Winry shook her head. "That dummy," she said. There was no anger in her voice. It was of a tone of endearment like when she'd called them both that very world while welcoming them home. "Always thinking in extremes."
Al nodded. "He doesn’t always see how it's not all black and white. At least not when he's mad." He finished cleaning the last plate and handed it to Winry.
"There," she said, putting the last plate away in the cabinet. "All finished. Thanks Al."
"Of course."
"Ed will come around, Al. Don't worry."
But Al did worry.
Because there was more to the story than Winry knew.
The sky was the color of charcoal and flickering with distant lightning by the time Al and Winry rejoined Granny.
"He's not home yet?" Al asked, already knowing the answer as he looked out the window and saw no sign of his brother.
"No," Granny answered. "But he'd better hurry. It's going to start raining any minute now, and I'm sure he's already in a lot of pain."
Al grumbled under his breath and stomped his crutch on the ground. "I'm going after him."
"Are you crazy, Al?" Winry objected. "You can't go wandering off by yourself in a storm when you're not even steady on your own feet yet."
"I won't be by myself once I find Brother. I'm pretty sure I know where to look for him."
"Fine." Winry grabbed a lantern from one of the work station countertops. She checked that it had plenty of oil before lighting it. "There's no point in arguing with you, so I'm coming, too."
"No, Winry," Al said, buttoning his coat. "I need to talk to him, and if you come, he'll just get defensive again."
"But Al, I-"
"I know you hate just standing around waiting. So I'm sorry, but I have to go alone. We'll be back soon."
"Idiot!" Winry relented and handed over the lantern to Al. "Do whatever you want, but make sure you tell the other idiot I'll have a hot water bottle and a lecture waiting for him. And be careful."
"I will. Thank you."
The muggy air weighed down on Al as soon as he stepped outside. He could smell the crisp scent of the coming rain, a trait that Al had inherited from their mother that Ed had always been jealous of. He'd missed that smell, but now wasn't the time to stand around savoring the experience.
Someday when he was healthy enough, Al though, he'd beat the crap out of Ed for this. For now, all he could do was slowly and carefully make his way down the dark, rocky road and hope that his brother was as predictable as always.
Chapter Text
Ed's leg stump throbbed with each clap of thunder, and the wound in his side from his near-death battle with Kimblee was also beginning to ache. Even a bolt from his old arm port that the surgeons in Central hadn't been able to remove without damaging his collar bone was making it's presence known.
The rain would come soon. Ed knew this, but couldn't bring himself to move. He'd always known that amung his many flaws was stubbornness that often bordered on obstinance. He wasn't ready to go back, wasn't ready to face Al and tell him that he was right, even now that his temper had cooled down from his initial flair-up.
Al was right. Ed was overreacting to what Mustang, Havoc, and Marcoh had done because, when it came to using the Philosopher's Stone, Ed had no room to talk.
As the pain in his body intensified, he hugged his knees tighter to his chest and stared at the name etched into the gravestone infront of him.
Trisha Elric
"You must be real proud of me, hu Mom?" He said sarcastically. "Looks like your 'little man' grew up to be nothing but a big fat hypocrite."
"Why do you say you're a hypocrite?"
Ed wasn't startled to hear Al's voice behind him. He'd half expected his little brother to track him down if he took too long.
Al sat down a few feet away from Ed infront of their father's grave. He placed the lantern down between them and layed his crutch across his lap.
Ed waited until Al had gotten comfortable to answer. "'Cause I am one, that's why. What business do I have getting pissed off at the General when I've done just as bad? It's not like I've never used the damn stone myself, after all."
"You're talking about what happened inside Gluttony?"
Ed nodded. "I opened the portal to save my own ass, and I used Envy's Philosopher's Stone to do it. I did something we promised never to do. I'm still angry with them even though deep down I know I lost that right a long time ago. After everything I've done, I still try to claim some moral high ground..." Ed looked down at his hands that were shaking from the pain and cold. "Even now that there's blood on my hands."
Al laughed humorlesly. "Yeah, well. Standing room only on that train, Brother."
"What are you talking about, Al? You never used the stone and you never killed anyone."
Al didn't reply.
"I'm the only one who broke our promise, Al. I used the Philosopher's Stone and I killed that bearded bastard. Well, that part was a team effort, but I still landed the final blow. Your hands are clean, Al."
Al turned his face away from Ed and idly picked at a blade of grass. "You're right that I never killed anyone. Not directly, anyway. But I facilitaded Kimblee's death when I knew exactly what I was doing. And as far as using the stone goes..."
Al looked up at the name on the gravestone.
Van Hohenheim
Al felt like his dad would be proud of him for the way he fought that fateful morning three short months ago. He wasn't so sure about Ed, though.
"What I did... it's been eating away at me all this time. I though you'd be angry if you knew, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it myself. But now, seeing how angry you got at Mustang and Havoc..." Al's voice cracked. He tilted his head up, hoping gravity would keep the tears behind his eyes. "Now I'm even more afraid. I don't want you to be angry with me or disappointed in me. But maybe what I did really is as bad as you say."
Ed felt sick. He'd made Al, his little brother, his little brother who'd sold his soul to save him, his little brother who'd placed himself in the line of fire as a human shield more times than Ed could count, his little brother who'd come so far in his recovery and who still had a long way to go...
Ed had made Al afraid. Of him.
"Al, I-"
"I wanted to do the right thing, I really did," Al continued, ignoring Ed. The floodgates were open now, and there was no stopping the words or the tears from flowing freely out. "I wanted to give them a chance to fight! Those souls would never have real lives again, but I truly believed that I could give them a chance to help prevent more suffering! I made a promise not to let anyone else die, and if they could help..." he paused to sniffle and whipe his runny nose with his coat sleeve, "I know that if I'd been in that stone, I would have wanted to help. I would have wanted what little was left of my life to mean something. That's why I don't want to believe that what I did was wrong and that's why I can't condemn Mustang or Havoc. But maybe..." Al's voice lowered, barely audible over a roll of thunder. "I don’t know, Brother. I just don't know."
Not even thunder dared to interrupt the silence that hung between the brothers, allowing Ed to process what Al had just told him.
"When?" Ed finally said. "When did this happen?"
"It was just after you and Dad and the others left for Central that morning. Kimblee came to Kanama to rescue Pride..."
Al told Ed the whole story. About Heinkle giving him the stone, using it in the fight, covering for Marcoh while he healed Heinkle, then distracting Pride so Heinkle could kill Kimblee.
By the time Al reached the conclusion and described the group's daring escape, the rain had begun to fall in heavy beads.
"Wait," Ed said when Al was finished. "You're telling me Yoki saved the day?"
Al chuckled. "Yeah. I was surprised, too. Didn't know he had it in him. But I'm guessing since you're focusing on the Yoki part of the story, that means..."
"That means what?"
When Al finally faced Ed for the first time since arriving at the cemetery, his eyes were red from tears and desperation. "You... you aren't mad at me?"
"No, Al," Ed sighed. "I'm not mad at you for that. I want to be, and I know it makes me an even worse hypocrite not to be. But I'm not."
After a few lingering moments, Ed continued, "You and Heinkle might be on to something, you know? All those souls are just helplessly trapped in those stones. And even though using them up is practically the same as killing them, were we really doing the right thing letting them live like that? Or was leaving them trapped in there just being cruel for the sake of our own peace of mind?"
"What was it Winry said? About being inside Father?"
Ed grimaced remembering Winry's account of the ordeal, how she'd trembled and wept in his arms when a nightmare had struck her and she'd woken up screaming.
Ed repeated Winry's words. "A swirling vortex of anguish."
"There's one stone left," Al said, his voice wavering. The rain had soaked through his clothes as he'd long since stared to feel cold. "The one Ling took back to Xing with him. All those people are still swirling in that vortex. How is that better than death?"
With a great deal of difficulty, Ed stood up, stumbling on his left leg a bit before gaining a solid footing. "This whole 'truth within the truth' bullshit just keeps growing more and more layers. It's like a damn onion, especially the way you're crying over it."
"Think we'll ever peel them all back? Find all the answers?"
Ed stretched his right shoulder, but it did little to ease the stiff soreness there. "Not tonight," he answered. He held his hand out for Al. "Come on. Let's go home, I see you shivering down there."
Al didn't object. He took Ed's hand and let his brother pull him to his feet.
"So if you’re not mad at me," Al asked, "What about Mustang and Havoc?"
"I'll forgive them in the morning. But Al?"
"Yes, Brother?"
"No more secrets, okay? You can tell me anything. Don't ever forget that."
Al looked away again.
"Al? What else do you need to tell me?"
Al gave Ed a small, sad smile. "One heavy conversation at at time, please?"
"Okay," Ed said skeptically. "But promise me you'll talk about it at some point."
"Only if you promise to actually talk to me instead of yelling and throwing paper at me."
"Yeah. Sorry about that. I promise I'll work on my temper."
"Sure you will, Ed. I'm Sure you will."
Ed grabbed the lantern and kept his empty hand on Al's back to make sure he was steady as they walked home. They didn't speak as they slowly made their way back up the road, but questions without answers still swam in their heads well into the night.
Notes:
Al talked about Kimblee dying, and yes, I'm aware that Kimblee didn't actually die but instead got eaten by Pride while still alive. Al wouldn't know this, though, and Ed didn't have a chance to fill in the gaps in Al's knowledge. It doesn't matter anyway, bc Kimblee ceased to exist in the end anyway.
Automail_Enjoyer on Chapter 3 Fri 22 Aug 2025 10:26PM UTC
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