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mikkenekoTitle: Honesty
Warning: Episode 51 spoilers
Pairing: Al/Ed, others/Ed
Rating: PG-13
Author's notes: Okay, now this is a bit weird. This was written for the HoS/Doubles scenario, but it doesn't really go in there; it's non-canon, it can't fit into the timeline. Nevertheless, I wanted to write it, so I have, and I think I can leave it as a standalone.
The situation behind this piece is rather complicated, but everything gets explained within the piece itself. If you don't feel like wading through the text for your exposition, here's the condensed version: Post-series, Ed returned from our world accompanied by Roy's alter-self. (Basic A!S premise.) Ed has spent the last ten years in an intimate relationship with five people including that double, his brother, and the actual Roy. (Basic HoS premise.) An alchemical accident reveals that the Al they are living with is not the Al that Ed travelled with during the series; that Al was a copy inadvertantly created by Ed the night of the transmutation, who became stranded in the Gate when the real Al was returned. He has spent the last ten years trapped in the Gate and has now been freed. (Basic Doubles premise.)
On to the fic.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Since the first memorable night when his brother had gotten in trouble for lack of funds to pay the hotel bill, he'd been the one to take over their finances. Edward just didn't have the head for it; he could go for weeks completely ignoring the salary building up in his account, then waste it all in a day on food or toys or just giving it away.
Al had been more careful, and he retained those habits now. The small amount of money he got from his part-time job at the library where he also studied paid for the cheap apartment, paid for his food expenses, and Al saved as scrupulously as he could; and the day before he got paid, if he had any money left over from the previous week's budget, he went out and used it to get stinking drunk.
This week had been one such week, and as Al returned home from the bar where he'd spent the evening, every motion exaggeratedly slow so as to keep from fumbling and falling, he found Ed sitting on his dining table.
"Oh, it's you," Al greeted him, in an unenthusiastic tone of voice. He locked the door behind him, then checked again to make sure he hadn't forgotten, then hung up his keys beside the door.
Ed looked a little startled by this cool greeting. "You don't sound very happy to see me," he said reproachfully.
"Should I?" He peeled off his coat, and managed a fair approximation of the hook by the door. "I didn't invite you in here. Shouldn't you be back at the House of Eternal Sex, getting ravished by one of your other lovers? Won't your real brother miss you?"
"I was worried about you," Ed said softly, and Al snorted. He checked behind him one more time, to make sure he really had locked the door and hung up the keys, and then headed into the kitchen corner, walking straight past Ed.
"Well, you didn't need to be. As you can see, I'm fine. Lo and behold, I haven't shriveled up and died from not being in your illustrious presence. I have a place to live. There's food in the cupboards." He flung open one of the cupboard doors, to illustrate the point. "I'm not sick, nor starving, and I'm coming along quite well in my studies, thank you very much."
Being drunk, he knew, did things to him that it didn't seem to do to other people. Instead of clumsy, he became very deliberate; instead of numbing his feelings, it exaggerated them; instead of incoherent, he found he became downright eloquent. "So, now that you've dutifully come and checked up on me, you can go back home and report that the little prodigal is still alive, and everybody can be relieved and go back to being happy I'm gone."
"Aru, what's gotten into you?" Ed had followed him, and his brows had drawn together, uncertainty infusing his tone. "What's your problem?"
"My problem is you, Edward." Al whirled to glare at Ed, putting a hand on the wall for balance. "My problem is that heretofore my entire existence has revolved around you and you alone, and I can't stand it any more. My problem is that I need you, Brother, that I have no purpose, no life, and no existence without you, but no matter how much I need you, you don't need me. You don't need me, and you never will."
"I need you," Ed said, and his voice was soft, aching. "You're my brother, Aru..."
"Don't call me that!" Al whipped his head to the side, the ponytail spilling over his shoulder. "You... You just don't get it, do you? That name makes it worse, it just makes everything worse, makes it clear which one is the original and which is some cheap knockoff. You needed some way to tell us apart, because there were two of us, Brother, there was the real one and then there's me, the copy you made to keep yourself company while you travelled. You don't need me. You need him. And you have him, so why don't you just... go back to him!"
"That's not true," Ed began, a heated glint in his eye. "You're not just a copy. You and I were together for five years, A...ru. Al. We saw and did so many things together and... and I don't know how to explain it but you're different from him and you are important to me too, so --"
"I'm important to you?" Al broke in, indignation elbowing its way to the top of his drink-scattered haze. "I'm important to you? Oh, sure, Brother, I believe that. I'm so important to you that I spent ten years trapped in the Gate and you... you never once missed me, or came looking for me -- I was ready to die for you, and you never..."
He broke down. By now he knew better than to try and stop himself; when he was this drunk the emotions had their way with his body, and there was little he could do to control or temper them. It was a release, in a way, to get these feelings out of him, and so he didn't try to stop himself as he sank slowly down onto his heels, rocking back and forth and keening softly as he left the pent-up grief and loneliness flow.
He didn't hear movement, but sometime Ed must have moved, because the next thing Al knew his brother was crouched down next to him, hovering awkwardly, hands reaching out but not quite touching. He blinked out the tears clouding his vision and looked up to see his brother hovering there, face contorted by guilt and misery, and that just made everything ten times worse.
"And still," he burst out, as indignation surged up and battled with grief for ascendancy, "and still, even knowing that I'm not really your brother, even though you used me up and abandoned me, when you sit there with that look on your face all I can think of is that I have to try and make it better. I want to take it all back, say I didn't mean it, say it's not your fault, say anything to stop you from feeling so bad."
With an effort, he got to his feet and pushed away from Ed, heading for his bedroom, still ranting. "I still want to cook you dinner, and do your laundry, and rub your leg when it rains and you hurt. I want to make you happy. I'm living in this miserable apartment and frying my brains on the State Alchemist test because I promised to fix your arm and leg, Brother, and I still want to keep that promise. Even knowing everything, I still can't think of any better use to my existence than to try and make you happy. You tell me, Edward, how fucking pathetic is that?"
"Al," Ed said, and the tone of his voice sent another spike through Al's heart. "You don't have to do this, Al. I never wanted you to become a State Alchemist in the first place. You can come back home."
"Home? What's that?" Al said bitterly. "That house is your home, Brother, but it's not mine. The people there are your friends and lovers -- not mine. They can barely stand me, and they only do it for your sake. Everything is for your sake."
"That's not --" Ed began angrily, and Al, feeling particularly belligerent, cut him off again. It was the first time he could ever remember interrupting his brother so often, and it still made him feel almost sick to do it.
"You belong there. I don't. Simple as that. You can go back home and get fucked six ways to Sunday, blow up the kitchen trying to cook, give alchemy lessons, fight over the shower -- you have no idea how lucky you are, Brother, to have a place like that. I'd give anything for even a quarter of what they have. For even a fraction of your heart."
He turned and went into his bedroom, stepping on the backs of his shoes as he went to pull them off. The buttons on his clothes seemed like far too much to manage, in his current state. "And here I am, living in an apartment alone with a few mangy stray cats for company, and pouring my heart out every weekend to a figment of my drunk imagination, because I'm too much of a coward to tell my brother what I feel to his face."
If this particular figment had anything more to say to him, Al didn't hear it; he flung himself onto his bed, pulled the thin pillow over his head to block out the light, and closed his eyes, letting slip the last of the tears.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Warning: Episode 51 spoilers
Pairing: Al/Ed, others/Ed
Rating: PG-13
Author's notes: Okay, now this is a bit weird. This was written for the HoS/Doubles scenario, but it doesn't really go in there; it's non-canon, it can't fit into the timeline. Nevertheless, I wanted to write it, so I have, and I think I can leave it as a standalone.
The situation behind this piece is rather complicated, but everything gets explained within the piece itself. If you don't feel like wading through the text for your exposition, here's the condensed version: Post-series, Ed returned from our world accompanied by Roy's alter-self. (Basic A!S premise.) Ed has spent the last ten years in an intimate relationship with five people including that double, his brother, and the actual Roy. (Basic HoS premise.) An alchemical accident reveals that the Al they are living with is not the Al that Ed travelled with during the series; that Al was a copy inadvertantly created by Ed the night of the transmutation, who became stranded in the Gate when the real Al was returned. He has spent the last ten years trapped in the Gate and has now been freed. (Basic Doubles premise.)
On to the fic.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Since the first memorable night when his brother had gotten in trouble for lack of funds to pay the hotel bill, he'd been the one to take over their finances. Edward just didn't have the head for it; he could go for weeks completely ignoring the salary building up in his account, then waste it all in a day on food or toys or just giving it away.
Al had been more careful, and he retained those habits now. The small amount of money he got from his part-time job at the library where he also studied paid for the cheap apartment, paid for his food expenses, and Al saved as scrupulously as he could; and the day before he got paid, if he had any money left over from the previous week's budget, he went out and used it to get stinking drunk.
This week had been one such week, and as Al returned home from the bar where he'd spent the evening, every motion exaggeratedly slow so as to keep from fumbling and falling, he found Ed sitting on his dining table.
"Oh, it's you," Al greeted him, in an unenthusiastic tone of voice. He locked the door behind him, then checked again to make sure he hadn't forgotten, then hung up his keys beside the door.
Ed looked a little startled by this cool greeting. "You don't sound very happy to see me," he said reproachfully.
"Should I?" He peeled off his coat, and managed a fair approximation of the hook by the door. "I didn't invite you in here. Shouldn't you be back at the House of Eternal Sex, getting ravished by one of your other lovers? Won't your real brother miss you?"
"I was worried about you," Ed said softly, and Al snorted. He checked behind him one more time, to make sure he really had locked the door and hung up the keys, and then headed into the kitchen corner, walking straight past Ed.
"Well, you didn't need to be. As you can see, I'm fine. Lo and behold, I haven't shriveled up and died from not being in your illustrious presence. I have a place to live. There's food in the cupboards." He flung open one of the cupboard doors, to illustrate the point. "I'm not sick, nor starving, and I'm coming along quite well in my studies, thank you very much."
Being drunk, he knew, did things to him that it didn't seem to do to other people. Instead of clumsy, he became very deliberate; instead of numbing his feelings, it exaggerated them; instead of incoherent, he found he became downright eloquent. "So, now that you've dutifully come and checked up on me, you can go back home and report that the little prodigal is still alive, and everybody can be relieved and go back to being happy I'm gone."
"Aru, what's gotten into you?" Ed had followed him, and his brows had drawn together, uncertainty infusing his tone. "What's your problem?"
"My problem is you, Edward." Al whirled to glare at Ed, putting a hand on the wall for balance. "My problem is that heretofore my entire existence has revolved around you and you alone, and I can't stand it any more. My problem is that I need you, Brother, that I have no purpose, no life, and no existence without you, but no matter how much I need you, you don't need me. You don't need me, and you never will."
"I need you," Ed said, and his voice was soft, aching. "You're my brother, Aru..."
"Don't call me that!" Al whipped his head to the side, the ponytail spilling over his shoulder. "You... You just don't get it, do you? That name makes it worse, it just makes everything worse, makes it clear which one is the original and which is some cheap knockoff. You needed some way to tell us apart, because there were two of us, Brother, there was the real one and then there's me, the copy you made to keep yourself company while you travelled. You don't need me. You need him. And you have him, so why don't you just... go back to him!"
"That's not true," Ed began, a heated glint in his eye. "You're not just a copy. You and I were together for five years, A...ru. Al. We saw and did so many things together and... and I don't know how to explain it but you're different from him and you are important to me too, so --"
"I'm important to you?" Al broke in, indignation elbowing its way to the top of his drink-scattered haze. "I'm important to you? Oh, sure, Brother, I believe that. I'm so important to you that I spent ten years trapped in the Gate and you... you never once missed me, or came looking for me -- I was ready to die for you, and you never..."
He broke down. By now he knew better than to try and stop himself; when he was this drunk the emotions had their way with his body, and there was little he could do to control or temper them. It was a release, in a way, to get these feelings out of him, and so he didn't try to stop himself as he sank slowly down onto his heels, rocking back and forth and keening softly as he left the pent-up grief and loneliness flow.
He didn't hear movement, but sometime Ed must have moved, because the next thing Al knew his brother was crouched down next to him, hovering awkwardly, hands reaching out but not quite touching. He blinked out the tears clouding his vision and looked up to see his brother hovering there, face contorted by guilt and misery, and that just made everything ten times worse.
"And still," he burst out, as indignation surged up and battled with grief for ascendancy, "and still, even knowing that I'm not really your brother, even though you used me up and abandoned me, when you sit there with that look on your face all I can think of is that I have to try and make it better. I want to take it all back, say I didn't mean it, say it's not your fault, say anything to stop you from feeling so bad."
With an effort, he got to his feet and pushed away from Ed, heading for his bedroom, still ranting. "I still want to cook you dinner, and do your laundry, and rub your leg when it rains and you hurt. I want to make you happy. I'm living in this miserable apartment and frying my brains on the State Alchemist test because I promised to fix your arm and leg, Brother, and I still want to keep that promise. Even knowing everything, I still can't think of any better use to my existence than to try and make you happy. You tell me, Edward, how fucking pathetic is that?"
"Al," Ed said, and the tone of his voice sent another spike through Al's heart. "You don't have to do this, Al. I never wanted you to become a State Alchemist in the first place. You can come back home."
"Home? What's that?" Al said bitterly. "That house is your home, Brother, but it's not mine. The people there are your friends and lovers -- not mine. They can barely stand me, and they only do it for your sake. Everything is for your sake."
"That's not --" Ed began angrily, and Al, feeling particularly belligerent, cut him off again. It was the first time he could ever remember interrupting his brother so often, and it still made him feel almost sick to do it.
"You belong there. I don't. Simple as that. You can go back home and get fucked six ways to Sunday, blow up the kitchen trying to cook, give alchemy lessons, fight over the shower -- you have no idea how lucky you are, Brother, to have a place like that. I'd give anything for even a quarter of what they have. For even a fraction of your heart."
He turned and went into his bedroom, stepping on the backs of his shoes as he went to pull them off. The buttons on his clothes seemed like far too much to manage, in his current state. "And here I am, living in an apartment alone with a few mangy stray cats for company, and pouring my heart out every weekend to a figment of my drunk imagination, because I'm too much of a coward to tell my brother what I feel to his face."
If this particular figment had anything more to say to him, Al didn't hear it; he flung himself onto his bed, pulled the thin pillow over his head to block out the light, and closed his eyes, letting slip the last of the tears.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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no subject
Date: 2005-03-20 11:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-20 07:40 am (UTC)This is just as likely as what is happening currently in Doubles though. It very well could have turned out like this. Aru could have...
I think that this would still be postable to HOS though, FL set up a section for Doubles non-canons, and this would count...
*still in awe of the greatness*
no subject
Date: 2005-03-20 11:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-20 10:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-20 11:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-21 12:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-20 12:50 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-20 01:25 pm (UTC)This is slightly like I imagine the whole AlxEdxAl will eventually get. You can't blame any Al to feel threatened by the presence of another just like him, especially if Ed is *sleeping* with the other. It's very 'What is it that the other can do that I can't? Where do I fail?' It wouldn't even have to be because Al's in love with Ed, it could be simple jealousy the way kids tend to take it badly when their single parent tries to date again.
On a sidenote, I'd love to read more fics where one Elric is dating and the other doesn't like it and gets jealous from the loss of attention. Roy is a pretty convenient tool for that, though I think almost any other guy would do.
no subject
Date: 2005-03-21 12:01 am (UTC)That's very much how he's feeling, which is why he and the other Al just can't get along. Well, one of the reasons. *grin* And, of course, the other Al feels threatened by his presense, so he'll try to defend what he has with Ed.
It could definitely be done even if Al weren't in love with Ed, but at least in the way I think of the arc, he is. Mostly because, as I've said before, I can't imagine how this Al could *not* be if the other one is. Traveller!Al has every reason to love his brother that Young!Al does, and a heap more of reasons and complications on top of those.
Unfortunately, I'm pretty sure that thus far Al has not actually bothered to inform Ed about this before quietly pining for him, certain in the knowledge that Ed doesn't want him. *grin*
no subject
Date: 2005-03-20 04:34 pm (UTC)*pets Aru*
Great fic Mikke!
no subject
Date: 2005-03-20 11:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-03-21 11:56 am (UTC)So, uh, even if I'm not *100%* sure what's going on, you still write great angst, Mikke-san. XD Thanks for bumming me out. :P
no subject
Date: 2005-03-21 02:51 pm (UTC)And you're welcome. =D