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Out of all the people in the world Ed wanted to be stuck in a snowstorm with, Van Hohenheim and Roy Mustang were pretty much at the bottom of the list. He felt like this was for very obvious reasons. The former was his father who had up and abandoned him and Al when they were five without so much of a wave goodbye. He didn’t care why he did it. All he cared about is that he did it. He turned his back on Ed and Al and never looked back. Not once in the ten years he was gone did he ever call, write, or even stop by. Not once.
As for Mustang…. Well, Ed certainly liked him better than Hohenheim, but he still wasn’t thrilled about being forced to cuddle with him for warmth in a dusty old abandoned cabin while they waited out the snowstorm. Mustang liked to make fun of him. He liked to poke and push him. He liked to be a pain in Ed’s ass and a thorn in his side. Normally, Ed could deal with it. But today was not the day. His automail ached from the cold. The flesh parts of his body ached from the cold. He was tired. He was hungry. He was worried about Al. And now he had to spend the night in close proximity with the bastard who had abandoned him all those years ago and try not to rip his head off. Fun!
“We have to take your automail off,” Mustang said in an authoritative tone once Ed had finished scrounging up any scraps of fabric he could find to make them a blanket.
He balked and turned to face him. “What? Why?”
“Because you’re burning energy to keep it powered. We don’t know how long we’re going to be stuck here but we don’t have any food. The longer it’s on, the more likely you’ll be to die of starvation.”
Ed was keenly aware Hohenheim had stopped moving around. His back was to them, tending to the small fire Mustang had made when they first stumbled through the door, but he was listening to them. Ed could tell.
“Furthermore, you’re at a higher risk of frostbite with that metal strapped to you.” Mustang continued. “We can’t do a lot about the pieces embedded in your shoulder, but the less you have near your skin, the easier it’ll be to regulate your temperature.”
Why was Hohenheim listening to them? There was a slight quiver of anxiety balling up in Ed’s stomach. He ignored it and focused his attention on the bastard colonel.
“Since when do you know so much about automail?”
This seemed to take Mustang by surprise. In the dim candlelight, he could see his features morph briefly into shock before he managed to school them back to his normal stare.
“Ever since you came under my command. What? You think I don’t know the basics of automail and the potential side effects of having it? I’d like to know so that I don’t accidentally get you killed.”
Oh… That was… nice. He didn’t know Mustang cared so much.
“What’ll you do if I don’t take it off?” Ed challenged. Mustang had a point. The automail was only going to hurt him the longer it stayed on. But, if he took it off, he’d be helpless. Defenseless. He’d have to rely on Mustang and Hohenheim to keep bears from eating him. He couldn’t very well hop his way out of this snow storm should he need to.
And, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it wasn’t really Mustang that was the problem. It was Hohenheim. He didn’t know how much he trusted that man to pick him up and run if need be. Mustang would. He’d drag Ed onto his back even if he was bleeding out to get him to safety. But Hohenheim? He couldn’t see it.
“I’ll tell your automail mechanic that you haven’t been taking care of it.” Mustang grinned, challenging Ed to risk the wrath of Winry all so that he could keep his pride.
“Fine,” Ed groaned, peeling off his coat so Mustang could get to the port. “But if we get attacked by a bear, I’m shoving you in front of it and crawling away.”
Mustang chuckled and came up to his side. “I’d expect nothing less from my loyal subordinate.”
Just as Ed was starting to feel slightly better about the situation, Hohenheim ruined it (like always).
“Was it worth your arm and your leg?” he asked quietly.
Ed froze, his heart pounding as he realized what Hohenheim was implying. This wasn’t curiosity. This wasn’t someone unfamiliar with human transmutation accidentally asking a rude question. This was purposeful. He was going to scold him the same way he had scolded him back in Resembool, treating him like his reaction to the death of his mother was uncalled for and childish. It was childish. But at the end of the day, he was a child. A child without directions and the ability to grieve properly because he was now the caretaker for Alphonse. A job that should have gone to Hohenheim had he ever bothered to come back.
No, not like this. Not now. Ed had been able to hold his own against him last time. But now he was too cold and drained to argue back. Not only that but missing an arm and a leg always caused him to be more anxious. More frightened. More vulnerable.
However, he was so caught up in his own fears that he didn’t even realize what was going on with Mustang until the man spoke.
“Don’t say another word,” he growled. And… oh. He was furious. His hands were still on Ed’s shoulder port, poised to take the weight of the arm as soon as it was detached. But they were frozen, except for the minuscule trembling that gave everything away. His entire body was stiff, shoulders pinched forward in a way that suggested he was poised to attack. And the way he spoke… Furious. Angry. Murderous. Ed had never heard him sound like that before. It scared him. It made him shiver as his mind furiously flipped through their recent interactions to try and see just what he had done to set Mustang off.
“Excuse me?” Hoheneheim balked.
Still kneeling in front of him, and putting one hand on his flesh shoulder, Mustang turned to face him. “I said, ‘not another word’. I’m not going to have you speaking to him like that.”
He was still in control of himself. He hadn’t totally lost it yet, but it was still frightening for Ed to see. Like a wild animal that was close to losing control and ripping the throat out of unsuspecting prey.
Even Hohenheim was taken aback by him. “I simply asked—”
“What part of ‘not another word’ do you not understand?” Mustang snapped. “I want to make one thing very clear. The only reason you’re here and not locked out in the snow is because your body heat keeps this place marginally warmer. But make no mistake, keep talking like that, and I’ll use you as kindling.”
Hohenheim’s eyes narrowed. Ed’s heart was pounding wildly. He didn’t know if he wanted this to go on or stop. If it went on, he might get caught in the middle. He had been doing his best to pretend Hohenheim wasn’t here, but if Mustang kept pushing, he might have to step in before they could rip each other apart.
“I’d keep the threats to a minimum, boy,” Hohenheim all but spat. “I don’t think you fully understand who you’re dealing with. That’s my son—”
“Oh, I do know who I’m dealing with,” Mustang said, cutting him off. Throughout the entire interaction, his hand had yet to leave Ed’s shoulder. He was grateful for that. Right now, that hand was the only thing keeping Ed grounded. If it weren’t for that hand, he’d think this was a dream. A part of him did think it was a dream, even now, but the hand helped keep him grounded.
“I don’t think you know who you’re dealing with,” Mustang continued. “If you keep pushing, if you don’t shut up, then I’ll have no problem testing how immortal you really are. I’ve already killed one homunculus. What makes you think I can’t repeat my success with you?”
This finally got Hohenheim to close his mouth. Though, he did look like he swallowed a lemon. He sent Ed one final glare before turning back to the fire and tending to it.
Mustang smirked. “Wonderful. Now then, let’s get this automail off.”
Ed didn’t want to say anything, not with Hohenheim right there, so instead he reached up and squeezed Mustang’s forearm, a silent thanks he hoped he understood.
Mustang smiled at him and squeezed his hand. “Any time, kid,” he murmured before getting back to his task.