Chapter Text
...A while back he'd joked to Mustang that Mae was now the same age as Edward when he'd been recruited into the military. Far from finding this funny, the General had gone white as a sheet and spent half an hour locked in his office on the phone with his head in his hands and Riza glaring daggers at Jean.
- The Price of Life, Ch 3
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“Ed, it’s for you!”
Ed looked up from the board game he had been playing with the twins, Sara and Alvin. It was a Thursday afternoon, and they were all lounging around the Rockbell-Elric living room while Winry and Nina made stew in the kitchen.
“Who is it?”
“Just answer the phone!” Winry huffed, and he got up slowly. If it was Al, she would have told him - well, she would have talked to him for half an hour and then told Ed - and he couldn’t think who else might be calling. He vaguely remembered that Jean Havoc was expecting another baby - maybe it had come early?
“Sam, sub in for me,” he directed this at the fourteen-year-old sprawled on the couch leafing through one of Winry’s old books on automail attachment.
“Nah,”
“Ok how about Sam, sub in for me or I’ll let the twins split your allowance this week?” Rolling his eyes, the grumpy teen tossed his book aside and moved to take his father’s place on the floor.
“Fine, but I’m gonna make you lose on purpose.”
“It’s a chance-based game so good luck with that,” Ed retorted, already heading into the kitchen. He grabbed the phone from where it was sitting next to Winry’s cutting board and brought it to his ear, leaning against the wall to study his wife, who was busily chopping celery and carefully looking anywhere but at him. “Hello?”
“Hey Fullm- uh, Edward.”
“Bastard Mustang?” Ed said in surprise. “What happened, did Catalina finally have that baby?” he couldn’t think of any reason General Roy Mustang would be calling him.
“What? No, she’s not due for another month or so.”
“Okay. Uhh… how are Hawkeye and the kid?”
“They’re both fine. Look, I’m calling to apologize.”
“Apologize? For what?” Winry’s knife stopped briefly, and then started methodically chopping again.
“For turning you into a child soldier,” Mustang intoned, and the bitterness in his voice gave Ed pause. He knew that the General had demons; Hawkeye too, and anyone who had been a part of the Ishvalan extermination. She’d even said as much to him herself. It hadn’t occurred to Ed that he might be one of those demons.
“You didn’t turn me into anything,” Ed said, keeping his tone light. “Teacher was the one who taught Al and I how to fight, you just gave me an exorbitant amount of pocket money. Anyway what made you suddenly grow a conscience?”
Through the kitchen door he could see Sam playing with the two younger kids. Now that Ed’s attention was focused elsewhere he’d stopped pouting and gotten into the game, and was gleefully reading a card to Sara, explaining that she’d just been sent back three spaces. Mustang’s kid -officially Hawkeye’s kid with a Xingese courtier - was a couple years younger than Sam; she’d be about twelve now, he figured.
Oh
“Listen,” he said hurriedly, turning away from Winry to face the wall, “It sounds weird but that was the best thing that could have happened for Al and I. You helped light a fire under our asses.”
“I can’t figure out what I was thinking,” the General said finally. His voice sounded rough and muffled and Ed would bet money that he had his head in his hands. “Recruiting children to be dogs of the military. You have kids; how have you never kicked my ass over that?”
“Don’t get me wrong, Colonel,” Ed told him, using his old honorific without realizing, “If you ever try to recruit any of my kids into the Amestrian military I will kick your ass. Winry will kick your ass,” he added, and was rewarded by a snort from somewhere behind him. “But as far as me and Al go, well, you helped us out.”
“I just can’t see it that way,” Mustang said quietly. “Being… being around children, it can really change your perspective.”
“Yeah no shit,”
“Language, Daddy,” Trish admonished, wandering through the kitchen with a baseball bat and proceeding to summon the rest of the horde out to the fields. Nina followed after a look at Winry, and they were alone in the kitchen, Winry still chopping, though he noticed that the chopping was slower and closer, as though she’d sidled over to try and listen in. He moved to stand with his back to the doorjamb, stretching the cord.
“Look, I realize you of course know nothing about this, but a huge part of being a parent is making mistakes and learning, and trying not to make the same mistake twice. You weren’t all that old yourself-”
“-Old enough to know better,” the General said bitterly. Ed knew this tone well - knew this particular mood of Mustang’s. It was the kind of mood he and several of the other soldiers got into every now and again, when the past suddenly caught up to them and all their crimes - actual or perceived - became too heavy to hold.
“I know you and Hawkeye have … a lot of stuff in your past you wish didn’t happen,” he said, and it sounded so milquetoast even to him that he winced. “A lot that you feel you need to atone for, or - face some kind of justice. But this isn’t one of those things.”
“You can’t tell me it wasn’t wrong-”
“Sure it was,” Ed cut him off. “You want me to say it? Yeah, recruiting kids to fight enemies of the state is on its face generally considered a bad move. Out of context it sounds really bad, okay? But you’ve made up for it. You’ve atoned. You can work to repair the government here, to rebuild Ishval, but this particular sin… consider your slate washed clean, okay?”
There was a long beat of silence and Ed wondered if the General was even still there, but he waited, not realizing that the kitchen too had gone completely silent.
“Thanks kid,” the raspy voice was full of relief.
“Yeah - anytime. Just uh, don’t do it again, I guess.” This elicited a chuckle, and then a brusque throat clearing. Ed could picture the general straightening up in his seat, adjusting his jacket and running a hand through his hair.
“Wasn’t planning to. Listen I’d better go - swamped with paperwork as usual. Give my best to the family.”
“Of course. Bye General.” He hung up the phone as a pair of arms encircled his waist and Winry rested her head against his shoulder. He could feel her hair tickling the back of his neck. They were quiet for a moment, listening to the stew simmering on the stove and the sound of their children playing some violent, made-up game outside.
“He sounded so upset when I answered the phone” Ed felt himself relax at the feel of her talking, warm breath against the back of his shirt, her arms circled tightly around him, the way she’d done it a million times before.
“He’s right to feel guilty,” he murmured. He didn’t know if he’d ever said it aloud. Ever even thought it, really. He felt Winry’s arms squeeze more tightly for a moment.
“You’re right to forgive him.”