Comfortember 14: Road Trip
I know "road trip" normally implies cars and pavement, but Fullmetal Alchemist is more about trains and rails. Plus trains are cool. #GoByTrain
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Vato Falman usually spent train rides reading. He liked to stop at the station’s newsstand and grab a handful of random magazines just before boarding. And sure, he might not care about quilting or homiletics or sailing, but that was the point. He always came away with a fresh perspective on... something.
But today, waiting at the station with his new teammates, he'd suddenly felt self conscious about the ritual. Would Second Lieutenant Breda actually believe he was choosing at random? And even if he did, would he tease him about it the whole way to Central anyway? So no magazines today. Just a nice, neutral Central Herald to pass the time.
Read on AO3 or...
Just as well; he couldn't even focus on the newspaper. Folding it closed with a small sigh, he looked around the car: Master Sergeant Fuery sat across the aisle, reading what looked to be a technical manual; the colonel and First Lieutenant Hawkeye sat at the front, heads bent together, having a low and intense discussion. The car was otherwise empty, and he wondered where lieutenants Breda and Havoc had gone. They were probably together; they seemed to be friends.
Master Sergeant Fuery looked up and gave him a warm smile. Of everyone on the team, Falman has worked the most with Second Lieutenant Breda, but Master Sergeant Fuery's been the friendliest.
"Reading anything interesting?" the sergeant asked. Falman decided to risk being honest.
"You know-- to tell you the truth, I'm having a hard time focusing."
Master Sergeant Fuery looked relieved and closed his manual. "Me too,” he said quietly. “It's all so much. Getting hand-picked for this team, it's a lot of pressure. I mean, the colonel is... the colonel."
Falman nodded vigorous agreement. "Not that you have anything to worry about; you were the best comm tech in the east." The sergeant smiled bashfully at that, and Falman worried for a moment that he’d made it weird.
But he responded, "I'm not, Brad is. But thank you. Wait-- why are YOU worried? " He sounded so incredulous, Falman blinked in surprise.
"Because-- I'm just an enlisted who reads a lot," he shrugged. "Look at everyone else on the team, and..."
"... And you fit right in," Master Sergeant Fuery said firmly. "That was you with the Madison case, right?” He’d heard about that? How had he heard about that? Falman nodded. “I can't wait to see you and Lieutenant Breda put your heads together on a mission, that’s really gonna be something!"
The thought of working that closely with the second lieutenant was intimidating as hell. He changed the subject. "It's not just that though. Brigadier General Hughes..."
Fuery's smile faded and he nodded seriously. "It’s really sad."
At the mention of the brigadier general, Mustang’s head snapped up, looking hard in their direction. Falman pretended he didn't notice. "Say, you think the others went to the dining car? I could use a snack."
Fuery took the hint, or maybe was just hungry. Either way, they made their way to the dining car, where sure enough, lieutenants Breda and Havoc were holding forth in a booth.
Falman had miscalculated, he realized. Yes, he had gotten them away from Mustang so they could talk about Brigadier General Hughes and the weirdness around that whole situation, but now, now they have to deal with these two. Do they sit together? They weren't invited. Would it be an imposition?
Second Lieutenant Havoc waved them in with a languid grin."Hey fellas! Join us!" Second Lieutenant Breda looked irritated at the interruption. Well,... he sort of always looked like that, it didn’t necessarily mean anything.
"So," Havoc said as they squeezed in, "You guys excited about the transfer? Central Command, I never thought I'd see it..."
Falman again decided to risk being honest. "Well-- I mean sure, of course, it's a great honor, but... this thing with Hughes..."
Second Lieutenant Breda gave him a piercing look. And then a short, sharp nod. Falman felt like he’d just aced a pop quiz. "Yeah. Something's up for sure. And we've just been thrown right into the fucking middle of it."
Second Lieutenant Havoc made a dismissive noise. "You're being paranoid."
"The hell I am, have you seen Mustang and Hawkeye today? They're worried."
"Worried?" echoed Fuery. Breda nodded.
"For someone to take out Hughes like that, just fuckin _murder_ him, _right outside HQ_...” He shook his head. “It's gotta be big. For all we know, Mustang's got a target on his back too. I just hope to god they fill us in before it's too late."
Falman felt a knot forming in the pit of his stomach. Fuery’s face was noticeably pale. "What have we gotten ourselves into?"
“Whatever it is,” Second Lieutenant Havoc said sincerely, looking each of them in the eye in turn, “We're in it together. Whoever’s behind it--” stubbing out his cigarette in the ashtray-- “we’re taking him down. I mean, look at us. With the colonel and Lt. Hawkeye? We’re unstoppable.”
Breda snorted derisively and picked up his beer, muttering into it, “Knock it off before I get a fuckin cavity.” But his shoulders relaxed just a fraction, and Havoc gave him a sly smile. Beside him, some color returned to Fuery’s face.
Falman watched the countryside pass by out the window, fields starting to give way to the outskirts of Central City. Whatever awaited them at their destination, they’d face it together.
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