Chapter Text
There was nothing in between this place and the next, as Edward was yanked from one reality to the other, truth’s grin flashing before he was dragged- somewhere.
Something was wrong when he arrived at the other side, in that familiar decrepit building he’d chased the rogue alchemist to. At first glance, everything seemed the same.
Muddy, dirty bricks, cracked with the persistent hold of the moss and lichen, a burned-up alchemical circle’s faintly glowing lines collapsing onto itself.
Blood was pooling into the cracks of the concrete, pitch black in the grey light. It might have been from him.
An irritatingly familiar dark shape cautiously approached the ragged gap in the wall, holding something alight. It wasn’t a torch, but an orb of light bright enough to make him dizzy.
“What’s happened here?” the man asked, shifting his light to illuminate the bloody circle, squinting at it as if he needed glasses.
“Roy…” Ed rasped out, flinging his limbs against the asphalt in an attempt to gesture him over. His arm only twitched. He felt panic rise into his throat but tried to squash it down. Roy was here- he wasn’t in danger. As much. It was alright. Even if there was danger, at least it wasn’t only his problem.
The man knelt next to him, examining Ed’s face clinically, lingering once their eyes met.
“Bastard,” Ed coughed past his wet throat, “Where the hell am I?”
“You don’t know?”
“Does it look like I know? Why do you think I would even bother opening my mouth if I knew?”
From the proximity, Ed realized that this Roy was much younger, in the lightness in the face and the lack of weariness in their relaxed posture. Fresh.
As the whiteness- shock, whatever- wore off his body, he could feel each distinct ache in his joints, the bone-weariness that meant that he’d probably wrenched his shoulder, his knee, his ass, his brain-
He scowled at Roy, who hadn’t done anything but stare at him.
“Are you just going to sit there and gawk? Why the hell are you waving a light around if you just plan to watch me bleed out? I’m sure there are better things to do at night. Like sleeping .”
“Feisty, aren’t you? I’m just making sure you aren’t feral.”
“If you think a bloody half-dead body is a threat, I’ll show you what a real problem is-“
“Threatening an officer of the law? The scandal.” He said dryly, before waving his stick around in some half-assed geometric pattern, to make a half-assed light show.
Ed kept his mouth shut through his rising unease. It was, after all, a very obvious method to do… something. But this was Roy, who wouldn’t stab a random dying person on the street. Probably. No, he might stab some random dying person on a street but it would at least have to be justifiable in court or leave no trace… Ed had already bled everywhere. With efficiency.
It took him a moment to realize that whatever the Bastard had done, the aches and pains in his miserable existence were marginally better. The man misinterpreted his disbelieving wide eyes as an accusation.
“My skill doesn’t lie in healing, so you’ll have to deal with my attempt at preventing you from losing all your blood,” He said dryly. “How did you tear yourself up like this? It looks nearly as bad as a werewolf attack- although, it wouldn’t be surprising if it were. I wouldn’t recommend walking by yourself at night and experimenting with runes while a known serial killer is about?” Roy considered him for a moment and sighed in a familiar, resigned manner.” You’re lucky I’m off duty right now.”
He waved his idiotic stick and Ed felt his ass leave the floor.
Ed screeched.
“What-Let me down! What the hell?!” Ed spat out, flailing as much as he was able.
If it turned out he’d ass-planted somewhere that ignored the basic laws of the universe he might as well throw himself off a cliff because apparently gravity was sleeping on the job.
“I would recommend against attempting to blow yourself up with alchemy in a basement currently housing a full army of rats. Such as…a cleaner abandoned building, perhaps?” Strange-Roy said while passively observing him go through the seven stages of grief over the loss of gravity.
As if Ed would ever draw that craptastic excuse of an alchemy circle he landed in. He twisted his face.
“Do I look like a moron to you? Because whoever drew it was obviously a lunatic and an absolute idiot.”
“Oh? Seems like you’re quite knowledgeable about these types of things despite your,” he paused. “age.”
“Who’re you calling so short they could fit in a sardine can you Fuckwad piece of shit crusty dog fuck-“
The man had the audacity to start laughing at his outrage, covering his mouth and shaking quietly as if it wasn’t obvious to anyone with eyeballs he was laughing at Ed’s expense.
“-I’m not a fucking kid! Do you have eyes!?”
Ed paused in his rant since there was that one time when Roy very much did not have the use of eyes, but this Roy didn’t seem too bothered.
“Right – do you have identification then?”
Ed was silent.
“…Of course not. Why make anything easy?” The man let out another weary sigh. “I don’t suppose you have next of kin I can conveniently drop you off to. No? Well, aren’t I surprised… what am I going to do with this random feral cat that I’ve picked up off the streets?”
Ed was going to show him how much worse he could be when he was actually acting rabid, but the man unfortunately had the foresight to levitate him out of arm's reach.
They made their way out of the dingy industrial basement into the alley, where the Bastard stopped to hold out his elbow within grabbing range.
“...What?” Ed said, “Want me to dust your elbow or some shit? No fucking way.”
“I don’t live in this back alley, unfortunately for you, so we have to Apparate- just grab my arm firmly, alright?”
Ed decided not to use his brain to parse that and grabbed his elbow with his stronger arm. The world twisted.
...all the way to an unassuming townhouse squashed between two other narrow houses, neatly trimmed lawn nice but not impressive, paint nice but not particularly fresh. Too bad he immediately ruined the view by retching onto said lawn in the peaceful early morning light. Ed blearily stared at the faint full moon in the brightening sky until another wave of nausea hit him.
Roy fumbled for his keys in his pants pockets and waited for Ed to finish throwing up his guts before holding the door open. Eventually, Ed was dragged inside away from the chill.
Rather than flouncy posh couches and gilt dining tables, he was met by an avalanche of books cascading from the shelves onto the floor, nearly consuming the dining table as if it was an amorphous, glutinous thing.
It was very… He expected something more of a facade of a room, like his Roy. But maybe this Roy wasn’t the same. And Ed should stop thinking of him as the same.
Ed was unceremoniously dumped onto the couch, bloodstains and all, as Roy shuffled around the kitchen to gather supplies. He groaned in complaint, eyeing up several objects in the room that didn’t quite make sense. The table and drink glasses both shuffled away from him as if they didn’t trust him, and the books shuffled aside to make room for him.
“Luckily for you, I won’t bring you to the hospital. Despite the times, … a shame. But also luckily for you, I’ve taken up muggle medicine- since despite wanting to learn, healing isn’t quite my thing…” Roy rambled as he came over to sit on the low table. He shook the bottles of antiseptic and bandaids at him as if Ed was supposed to be impressed.
“Alright, alright,” Ed grumbled, “Thanks. Where the fuck are we?”
“Why. My house!”
“No shit! I mean, what's the date, city, province-“
The bastard laughed because he knew he was annoying, and Ed felt something in his chest clench. Damn it.
“We’re in London, and it’s 1993,” he said.
Ah. Ed really fucked up this time.