Chapter Text
The train whistle blew sharply against the sound of automobile horns and people clamoring, smoke billowing across the platform as Edward gathered his things and made his way to the station doors.
How long had it been since the last time he’d been in Central? He’d avoided coming back as long as he physically could. He couldn’t bring himself to face it.
Not since finding out about the Major- no, the Brigadier General Hughes’s death. He still couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that his smiling, bearded face wouldn’t greet him anymore. That Ms. Gracia and Elicia would be sitting at home in misery, instead of bubbling laughter. He’d known them a year or so now, and still couldn’t bear the pain of greeting them. He made a point to avoid it. He still couldn't eat apple pie without feeling viscerally sick to his stomach.
He shouldered his bag with a soft sigh of pain, both at the emotional and physical, as the automail port in his arm creaked and strained. He’d been growing taller lately, according to the military physician. It was putting increased stress on his automail, and sharp pains had started coursing through him when he pushed himself too far. Winry would know what to do, and he was on his way to her shop next, once this stupid report was complete and he was able to get the hell out of here. In the meantime, however, his arm was painful and his muscles ached and throbbed. He couldn't wait to get to their accommodations and get some painkillers in him.
The military driver who’d been sent to collect him stood at attention and saluted, and Ed waved them off idly, too distracted to bother with names or formalities.
“Big Brother?”
Ed gave a start. He turned, glancing back at Alphonse over his shoulder. He’d forgotten about him, lost in his thoughts, and forced a bright grin.
“What’s up, Al?”
Alphonse stared back at him, and the armor cocked its head. The suit creaked as the metal moved against metal.
“What are you thinking about? You've been really quiet.”
Shit, he’d been too obvious.
Edward snorted, handing off his suitcase and pulling open the car door. His pride stung; Alphonse wasn't supposed to be worrying about him anymore. He was the older brother, that was his job.
“It’s nothing! I was just distracted thinking about the paperwork the Colonel’s gonna have me do. Ugh!” He groaned, and it wasn’t even a lie. The only person he could think of that hated having to file reports and keep track of research and findings more than him was Mustang himself. “I hate paperwork!”
Alphonse blinked again, and then laughed. The sound rang hollowly in his suit, echoing with a strange reverberation, and Edward felt his chest tighten painfully.
“You’ll manage, Brother! You’re good at it. You always finish quickly! And Miss Riza even said you do a good job!” The suit settled into the leather seat beside him with a soft clanging noise, and Ed couldn’t help but smile. Al’s naivete, while sometimes frustrating, was endearing nonetheless.
“Yeah? Well, maybe you’ll be able to find something interesting while I’m working. It shouldn’t be too long, either!” He grinned, and shot his brother a thumbs-up as the car rumbled to life and started off down the cobbled streets. “Central’s library is full of good stuff. See if you can get into one of the restricted sections. Sheska owes us one!”
“SHH!!” Alphonse panicked, looking back at the driver and then back at Edward, who was laughing as though he hadn’t even noticed the danger of his words. But, when he realized the driver couldn’t hear them through the glass partition separating them, the suit sagged, relieved, and he managed to laugh along.
“Sorry, I just-"
“I know,” Ed reassured him, nudging the gauntlet of the suit lightly with his un-sore shoulder. His already wounded pride was gnawing at his stomach, and he knew his cheeks were heating up. “I’ll be more careful. Promise.”
He turned to look out the window in the hopes of hiding the embarrassed flush rising to his cheeks, leaving his little brother to amuse himself for a few minutes. Ed watched the trees move in the wind silently. Occasionally, a leaf would be pulled from the branches and go spinning through the air, dancing across the sky. He watched them go until he couldn’t see them anymore, imagining where in Amestris he would go if he could fly like that, without a care in the world.
His daydreaming was interrupted by a sharp brake, and he looked up to see his brother looking out the window at a large hotel, and the driver turning off the engine. They wouldn’t be staying with anyone they knew personally this time, so the state had provided living arrangements for the Elric brothers instead. It looked nice enough, a large green awning sporting the number address, and large, arching windows opening into a sitting room of sorts. He couldn't remember the last time they'd had a place to sleep like this.
They slid down and out of the car, and checked in with the receptionist who handed Ed two keys, each on their own separate ring and labeled.
“Oh, we don’t need-”
“Thank you.”
Ed cut his brother off, ignoring the puzzled look he could feel Alphonse giving him, and started up the stairs. The heavy, thudding footfalls of the suit followed him towards their rooms, and lingered as he held out his brother's key.
“But- But Brother…”
“It’s just for one night, Al.” Edward smiled as reassuringly as he could, “And I’m right next door.”
Alphonse didn’t buy it for a second.
“But you’ll be alone. Are you going to be okay by yourself?” He pushed, worry lacing his words. For a minute, Edward wished he was less observant. “You haven’t been yourself today and I’m worried about you. Is it the automail? I thought it wasn’t hurting anymore…”
His words jumbled into nonsensical sounds as Ed thought over what he said. It was a convenient excuse, to tell him that the ports were hurting and his muscles were sore. It wouldn’t necessarily explain why he wanted to have his own room, but at least he could use it for the moment. He couldn’t tell Alphonse that coming here, walking these streets, watching the people- the families- go about their business felt wrong. Like he was intruding, an imposter- after all, he'd been the one to ruin his own family. If it hadn't been for him, maybe he would have been the teenager with his mother, shopping for a new school uniform. His heart hurt just seeing them all go about their day. It made him ache, a longing in his chest that he couldn't name...
Homesick, his brain supplied a moment later. It made him feel homesick. Hurting for a place that no longer existed.
“Yeah, it’s just been bothering me a little… I don’t want to bother you if I keep having to move around, or stretch, or bathe. Ya know?” Ed smiled, and brushed off the rest of Al’s worried ramblings with a wave, having not processed most of them, “I know you don’t sleep, but I’ll be annoying. And this way, you won’t keep me up either!”
The suit looked at him another moment, the bright red eyes seeking for any sign of dishonesty, searching his face to make sure that was really what was bothering him. When he didn’t find anything else, he sighed with relief and nodded. The creaking sounded louder than usual to Ed. More hollow. Empty.
“Alright, Big Brother. I’ll be awake if you need me!”
“I know, I know. Thanks, Al.”
They opened the doors to their rooms, and quietly nodded, before each making themselves comfortable. Ed could hear Al moving around through the wall, and while it was comforting to know that he wasn’t completely alone, the sound made it impossible for him to keep his composure any longer. He remembered the sound of his brother's feet on their hardwood floors. The sound of Alphonse's run, his laughter, how he'd hummed quietly at the dinner table when he liked the way Mom's mashed potatoes tasted.
Guilt, crushing and all-encompassing, swallowed him whole. He couldn’t have stopped the tears if he wanted to, barely registering the fact that he was crying til he saw the dark spots appearing on his shirtfront. They burned his eyes, pulled the knot in his chest into a lump in his throat, and made it impossible for him to breathe. It wasn’t this bad, usually. He could keep it together, most days. Ignore the gnawing pit in his stomach and pretend they were a normal pair of brothers if only until someone asked about the armor. The suit. Why, and who was in it. He couldn’t pretend in those moments, not faced with the reality of everything he’d done.
It was all his fault.
He was the one who lost Alphonse’s body, he was the one who’d gotten Hughes involved and killed, and now he was the reason why Central felt like a city of barbed wires and glass, cutting into him with every step. He was at fault. If only he could have kept his stupid mouth shut. If only he didn't ruin everything he touched, if only he wasn't the reason Alphonse doubted his own existence. If only...
If only he could have managed to do something different. If only he’d known better.
If only he could go home.
He cried into his pillow until he fell asleep, succumbing to the exhaustion wracking his body and falling into a, thankfully, dreamless sleep.