Heal “How did I not know you had all these books?” Ed sat in the middle of Roy’s study, surrounded by books on all topics—though many were on alchemy—in an effort to help Roy pack. When he said he’d do the study, he thought he was getting one of the easier tasks; he was intimately familiar with the volume of crap in Roy’s bedroom and didn’t want to spend the day packing it away. In their time together, Ed had rarely seen Roy read anything other than files from work and the newspaper, so the library quality of his collection was something of a surprise. “The purpose for most of your visits was directed mostly to the confines of the bedroom and sometimes the couch. Or occasionally the kitchen table.” Ed grinned, unrepentant. “I love kitchen table sex.” “I’m not complaining. But that’s the consequence of using me for my body, quality specimen though it is.” Ed rolled his eyes, but Roy was in a good mood and didn’t seem inclined to take offense. “You should try to get the books into boxes or this is going to take forever. We still have to pack your place.” “Yeah, but I’m letting Al keep most of my shit and he started packing my stuff out of gratitude.” Ed stacked a pile of books tightly into a box and frowned at the memory of Al’s expression this morning when he offered to pack for Ed. “I think he’s a little too keen on us moving in together. I told him I thought he was too young to live on his own, but he was all ‘you can’t control my life forever’ and ‘you need to bother someone else for a while’. He’s probably planning his first drunken orgy as we speak. Do you think I can have someone watch him, maybe set up some kind of guard?” Roy took the first packed box and stacked it in the corner of the room. “I think Al is an uncommonly sensible young man. He’d probably notice a guard. I’m going to go finish the bedroom, but I have a feeling I’m going to have to come back here and help. Try to get some of them in the boxes.” With a dismissive wave, Ed waited for Roy to leave before settling back into his task. The musty smell of old books, brittle paper and binding glue filled the air, enveloping Ed in a smell of pure comfort. The scent was so reminiscent of his years spent pouring over books as a child, he half expected Al to walk though the door. Though the temptation was strong to leaf through each book, Ed resisted the call of the tomes with a promise he would be able to page through them to his heart’s content when they were secure in their new home. In short order, Ed had a system in place for sorting and packing the books that left little extra room in the boxes and supported some of the older books to prevent damage. He supposed if his alchemy-for-hire business didn’t pan out, he could hire himself out as a professional book packer. Though he didn’t imagine there was much call for those, either. Dust motes swirled and spun in the bright afternoon sunlight where it shone through the open windows. The smell of paper and the feel of aged leather under his fingers soothed Ed in a way he was hard pressed to describe accurately. If people weren’t such assholes, Ed thought, he could have happily whiled away his time as a librarian for the rest of his life. As it was, libraries were as much about the people who needed the books as the books themselves, and Ed wasn’t willing to compromise. Most of the shelves’ contents were safely packed away when Ed found a half-hidden double row on the last shelf of the last bookcase. Had he not been packing the books, literally dismantling the room, he would have never noticed the second layer of books shelved behind boring titles on gardening and pottery. An unpleasant chill ran along Ed’s spine as he moved the first layer, slowly revealing the hidden books. With shaking hands, he pulled them out, holding them carefully in his lap. He knew these books. He’d studied these books. As he flipped through the first one, hand-written sheets of notes fell from between the pages with Roy’s distinctive writing on them. His style was cramped, and the letters themselves looked desperate, giving a frantic quality to the notes that made Ed’s stomach turn. “Roy?” He swallowed hard, not caring that his voice sounded strange. Through the apartment, Ed traced the sound of Roy’s footsteps until the man himself crossed the threshold. “You know, it’s going to take you all day if you insist on reading them instead of packing them.” The smile fell from Roy’s face as Ed held up the book in his hands, his eyes flicking between Ed and the now exposed shelf. “Ed—“ Ed wanted to push the book away from himself; he wanted to throw it across the room or have Roy set it on fire, but his hands wouldn’t obey his commands and in fact, tightened on the volume. “When?” was the only word he could force past his lips. After a moment of hesitation, Roy crossed the room and sank onto the floor next to Ed, his legs crossed beneath him and his left knee touching Ed’s right. He reached out and caressed the cover of the book in Ed’s hand with a fingertip. Anyone else would have looked at his face and see nothing but a mask of indifference, but Ed had grown quite talented at reading the impassiveness of Roy Mustang. He might seem unaffected, but his eyes spoke eloquently of pain. “After I came back from Ishbal, it was a very,” he drew a slow breath. “Dark time. I regretted nearly ever decision I made there and if it hadn’t been for Maes, I don’t think, well, I don’t like to think about what I would be like today.” Roy’s soft voice was layered with things he wasn’t telling Ed, but Ed didn’t feel like he could push for information. He couldn’t even watch Roy’s face as he spoke and turned his attention to the notes Roy had written years before. The arrays were different from the ones he and Al had devised; Roy seemed to be coming at the problem from a different angle altogether. Looking at his work, though, Ed could see Roy’s level of progress. “You worked on this a long time.” One did not develop arrays of this complexity overnight. “For months I hardly did anything else.” Roy took the papers from Ed’s hands, folded them neatly and placed them back in the book. “I’d like to think it wouldn’t have tried, but if Maes hadn’t intervened, I know I would have.” Taking the cue that this was a discussion they needed to have in baby steps over the months to come, Ed packed the book away and began working on the others. He understood Roy’s need to keep them, even knowing the danger they presented. It was like a personal test—‘Am I strong enough not to do this?’ “If it’s any consolation, your array is faulty. If you’d tried to activate it, the power would have fed back in on itself, blowing you up and probably half the block.” “It would not have.” Roy’s voice was partially affronted, though he didn’t sound entirely sure of himself and some of the pain had left his eyes. In short order, Ed packed the last of the books and stood, offering a hand to Roy. “It would. But it’s all right. Some of us are destined for alchemic greatness,” he said, gesturing towards himself. “And some us are meant to stand around looking pretty and snapping fingers.” “Pretty, huh?” Roy drew him into a loose embrace that was pure comfort. “Come on. We’ll start on the kitchen next.”
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