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“Elysia, where’s your brother?” When his daughter’s eyes didn’t lift from the book tucked in her lap, Hughes tried again. “Elysia. Sweetheart. Hello?”
She blinked, glancing up at him. “What? This is a really good part.”
“Where’s Ben?”
Elysia shrugged, hooking her finger inside the page as she closed the book to look around. “He was here. I thought he went below decks with Al.”
“He’s not. There’s a storm coming in, and we need to make sure we track him down as soon as possible."
Frowning, she set down her book and sighed as she rose from her bed. “You know he’s just hiding somewhere, laughing at us as we all scramble around like always.” She removed her glasses, polishing them on the hem of her shirt. “Someone should invent some kind of tracking device for little brothers.”
“Your mom’s in the galley; can you go give her a hand? There’s dozens of cabinets down there, and you know how Ben likes to climb.”
She nodded, and Hughes exhaled, smoothing his hand over Elysia’s hair as she passed. He swore that every time he turned around, the girl grew another half inch. Granted, she had the genes for it between himself and her mother, but it still gave him pause. He remembered being able to lift her with one hand; now she corrected his grammar and did math in her head faster than he could. If he didn’t love her more than his next breath, he might have been mildly irritated by how often she was right.
Climbing the narrow stairs, he headed back to the foredeck. He had to steady himself on the rail as the rising wind knocked him back a step. It was getting darker by the minute.
Roy’s voice called over the wind. “Any word?”
“You need to get below.”
The Prime Minister of Amestris rolled his eyes. “It’s just a little rain.”
“And you would know from all those years you spent at sea in the Amestris army? ” Hughes pointed at the blackening sky, where pewter-colored clouds were already roiling. “Get below. Captain’s orders.”
“What about Ben?”
“I’ve got everyone fanned out across all decks. He doesn’t like thunder, so my bet is he’s somewhere below. Ed and I are going to do another sweep up here.”
Roy shook his head. “So much for my brilliant idea for a relaxing trip at sea.”
“It’s not your fault.” Hughes gave him a gentle push between the shoulder blades to send him on his way. “Do me a favor and get down there so I don’t have to worry about you as well.”
“We’ll send up word as soon as we find him.” Roy gave him a quick smile, and Hughes nodded. There were only two children in all of Amestris that could call Roy Mustang as their godfather, and Hughes knew if anyone could coax Ben out of a strange hiding place, it would be Roy.
Almost as soon as Roy had disappeared from sight, the rain started, and within three minutes, Hughes was already soaked to the skin. Thunder crashed overhead, and it took him a moment to realize someone was calling his name.
He turned, blinking through streaked glasses as Ed came into view. “What?”
Ed’s hair was plastered over his forehead, and he brushed it away. “I said did you check under the lifeboats?”
“I did earlier, but we should check again.”
Glancing up at the sky, Ed said, “Fuck, this storm came up fast!”
“Ben hates this weather. Wherever he is, he’s going to be scared.” Hughes took a breath to calm himself. They would find him. It was just taking longer than he’d thought it would.
“I just checked out the wheelhouse a few minutes ago, but the Captain hasn’t seen anything.” Ed gave a curt nod. “Okay. I’ve got the lifeboats. You check the starboard storage.”
If there was going to be a crisis, Hughes thought, at least he had the people he trusted most in the world by his side. Ed’s instincts in bad situations were often nothing less than uncanny, and Hughes had learned long ago to trust them. The ship pitched beneath him, and he made his way slowly over to the storage area. Water sloshed over the rails, making for treacherous footing. A crack of lightning split the sky in half, revealing a furious sea of jagged waves. He shouted Ben’s name over the din of wind and water, hoping desperately for an answering cry.
This is taking too long, Hughes thought, frantically searching through enormous coils of rope stacked on the starboard side. We can’t be looking in the right place. Maybe Roy was right. He had to be below deck. A sudden gust of wind nearly ripped his glasses off his face, and Hughes grabbed them just in time. The storm was only growing worse with every passing second, and he had a feeling the Captain wasn’t going to allow them to stay on deck for much longer.
Someone shouted, and Hughes spun around, almost losing his footing.
“I found him!” It was Ed, screaming above the wind. Hughes ran as fast as he could across the slick deck, his heart in his throat. “Need some help!”
Ed knelt beside a lifeboat lashed to the deck. “He’s under here, but I need to cut the boat free to get him out.”
“Ben!” Hughes stuck his face as close as he could to the edge of the boat as the boy wailed beneath it. “Daddy’s here! It’s okay.”
He called for one of the crewmen to come help hold the lifeboat while Ed transmuted his automail into a blade to cut the ropes. It was slow work, as the ropes were soaked and the ship kept rocking beneath them, but Ed finally freed the boat, and he reached underneath to scoop up the boy.
“It’s okay, little guy,” Ed soothed, passing Ben into Hughes’ waiting arms. Hughes pressed Ben against his chest, wrapping his arms around him. His son sobbed into his neck, and Hughes only squeezed him tighter.
“Daddy’s here. You’re okay. You’re safe.” He kissed the fragile skin of Ben’s temple. “Let’s go find Mama.”
Hughes looked up to smile at Ed, but as he did so, a towering wave crashed over the side of the ship, slamming down on all of them. Clutching Ben against his body, he tried to shield him from the worst of it. Beside him, he heard Ed scream, and he forced his eyes open in time to see Ed’s body slam against the top of the railing, carrying Ed back towards the sea.
“Ed!” Hughes shouted, watching in horror as the wave swept Ed overboard. Before he could even think, he kissed the top of Ben’s head once, whispering words of comfort, and then passed his son to the sailor standing beside him. “Please. Get him to his mother.”
He ran to the railing, scanning the sea until he saw a flailing arm flash against the waves before it slipped below the surface. Hughes climbed up and dove off the side, falling dozens of feet until he splashed into the freezing water.
Freezing wasn’t even close to describing it, he realized much later. It was so cold that he was pretty sure that his heart stopped, at least for a moment, before his brain was able to send an urgent message for it to get back to work. He swam in powerful strokes to the last place where he’d seen Ed, but Hughes knew he’d never be able to stay afloat. The automail outweighed his flesh, and even as strong as Ed was, it wouldn’t be enough to keep him above the thrashing surface.
Hughes sucked in a great gulp of air, and then dove down, kicking as fast as he could, losing a shoe in the process. Ed would fight; he wouldn’t just be sinking, he’d be flailing for all he was worth. The sea was so damn dark, though, he could barely see his own hands as they pumped through the water. How the hell was he going to find Ed? It had seemed like such a simple idea on deck, just to dive where Ed had been, but with every pounding wave overhead, he knew both he and Ed were being driven in other directions, possibly not even towards one another.
After the shooting years ago, it had taken Hughes many months to heal, and the recuperation process had been lengthy. One of his doctors at the time had suggested swimming as a good exercise for him to consider, and he’d given it a try. It helped him gain back a lot of the stamina he’d lost, and he realized that he actually enjoyed it, as opposed to all the other crappy therapies they’d made him do. He knew he could hold his breath for a little over two minutes, but it was becoming abundantly clear that his time was running out, and by the time he made it back to the surface and back down again, Ed would likely be beyond his reach.
Suddenly the sea flooded with light, and he heard a dull boom from what could have only been an explosion above. The illumination allowed Hughes to see a dark form in the water not far from where he was. His lungs were starting to burn, but he fought past the discomfort and swam faster. He saw a flash of gold in the lingering light from above, and he kicked harder when he realized it was Ed. Hughes came up beside him, slipping an arm around his chest as he started to swim upwards.
Oh God, Hughes thought, he’s dead weight. It took all of Hughes’ strength to get them moving towards the surface, and he didn’t know if his lungs were going to last. Come on, come on, comeoncomeon… the mantra filled his mind until there was no room for pain, no room for anything except the knowledge that the surface was getting ever closer and air, glorious air, would be his for the taking.
His vision was starting to blur, but Hughes finally broke the surface, gasping like a beached fish. The air was rife with smoke, and his eyes burned; either Roy or Al had caused the lingering chemical blast of light. He screamed for help, and heard cries of reply from the ship, which was not at all where he expected it to be. Kicking furiously to keep both himself and Ed afloat, Hughes struggled to make sure Ed’s face was above the water. Ed was unconscious, and no amount of swearing or berating from Hughes had done anything to rouse him.
Every muscle in his body was burning with fatigue by the time the life preservers were in the water, but it took very little time to tow them back towards the ship once he managed to get a hold of them. Though the storm still raged around them, he could see a line of sailors joining his friends up on deck, pulling them up out of the heaving sea. Hughes didn’t let go of Ed until he was quite sure it was deck he was feeling beneath his feet. He would have toppled over if not for Riza, who caught him before his knees gave out.
“Maes! Are you out of your fucking mind?” Riza led him away from the railing. “Gracia’s in the wheelhouse. We nearly had to strap her to a chair to keep her from jumping in after you.”
“Ed,” Hughes said, gasping for breath. “Is he—“
“Al’s there. They’re bringing him inside.”
Hughes stumbled along beside Riza, only now aware of how horribly his body was trembling. “Easy now,” Riza said, her arms supporting him. “Here we are.”
They crossed into the warmth of the wheelhouse, and some kind soul pushed a chair under Hughes’ legs, where he collapsed gratefully.
“Maes!” Just hearing Gracia’s voice made his temperature rise at least one degree, and he turned his face towards the sound. She ran towards him, falling to her knees as she reached out for him.
“It’s okay, love,” he said, trying to keep his teeth from rattling as he spoke.
She whispered his name several more times, clutching him against her with greater strength than he thought possible. Her body was impossibly warm against him, her touch more welcome than any sensation he’d ever felt. “Is Ben okay?” he said, letting her pull away long enough for her to wrap a blanket around his shoulders.
“Ben’s fine, thank God. He’s with Elysia.” She nodded, studying his face for several moments. He had a feeling there were a lot of other things that she wanted to say at that moment, but Gracia was incredibly good at prioritizing, even when it felt like everything was falling apart. “We’ve got to get you out of those wet things.”
Hughes started undoing his shirt buttons with numb, clumsy fingers, but his efforts were halted when he heard Al shouting and gesturing at Roy on the other side of the room.
“Use the heel of your hand! Not there, here!”
Looking over Gracia’s shoulder, he saw Ed splayed out on the floor, lifeless. Even from here, his skin was pale blue. Al was doing rescue breathing while Roy knelt at his side, pressing against his chest at even intervals. “He’s going to be okay,” Hughes said softly, his frame wracked with uncontrollable shivers. Hughes' hands shook badly enough that he couldn’t even pull the blanket more closely around himself.
Gracia stood, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I know,” she said. “We need to get you below.”
“Hold on,” Hughes said, his eyes not moving from Ed’s frame. Ed’s chest rose and fell with each breath Al pumped into him, but he had yet to breathe on his own.
Al held up a hand, motioning for Roy to stop. “Wait a second.” Al bent over Ed’s chest, listening. He sat up quickly, his fingers at Ed’s throat. “We got a pulse.” Al leaned over Ed’s face again, pinching his nose shut. “Come on, brother.” He breathed another series of breaths into Ed’s mouth, and then Ed’s body jerked suddenly, a rattling gasp rising from his throat.
“Brother!” Al gently turned him on his side as Ed coughed, seawater streaming from his lips.
Ed’s barely audible groan was all Hughes needed to hear. Ed was alive. Ben was safe. Everyone he loved was okay. There was nothing else in the world he needed to know.
“Maes?” Gracia’s face swam out of focus, and Hughes felt himself start to fall forward. Gracia’s arms caught him, the way they always did, and then he slipped into the dark.
**
The cabin, compared to any of the dozens of rooms they owned back home, was cramped and dimly lit. It did, however, boast two of the things Ed most craved in the world at that moment. One was Roy, who was practically grafted to his side, and the other was the resounding quiet that had finally come over their cabin. He loved his brother beyond all reason, and while he knew he owed his life to him several dozen times over, he was profoundly grateful when Al had finally shut the door behind him.
Ed took a deep breath, and felt the gentle weight of Roy’s hand on his chest. He sighed, stroking the skin on the back of Roy’s hand. “I’m okay, you know. Al said so. It must be true.”
“He asked me to keep an eye on your vital signs.”
“You don’t have to check every minute for the rest of the night. I’m sure he just meant once in a while.”
“It never hurts to be thorough.”
Ed opened his mouth to contradict him, but then thought better of it. If it made Roy feel better to take note of every breath he took and every beat of his heart for rest of the night, then so be it.
“Do you want another blanket?” Roy asked.
“I’m fine,” he said, resting his flesh hand against the back of Roy’s neck. The skin there was soft and intensely warm against his fingertips, although Roy sucked in a quick breath through his teeth at the contact.
“Sorry.”
“It’s okay. You need to get warm.” Roy pulled Ed a little closer. “As warm as you get, anyway.”
“It’s really too bad that curing me involves lying naked in bed with you.”
Roy shook his head. “You can do that anytime you want.”
“I’m just saying that this should be the antidote for everything. Got a cold? Get in bed with Roy. Broken leg? Get in bed with Roy.”
“I’m only interested if you’re the patient. I don’t want strange sick people hopping in bed with me to get well, no offense.”
“Obviously.”
Roy fell silent for a few minutes, and Ed closed his eyes. He wasn’t tired, exactly; he knew he should sleep, but his mind couldn’t seem to decide if it wanted to rest or keep piecing together the last several hours over and over again. He remembered being swept overboard, remembered the bone-shattering cold as he hit the water. He’d tried to swim, but he’d known even as he flailed his efforts would be futile. The weight of his automail had dragged him down, and he remembered thinking that this was probably in the top five of ways he really, truly didn’t want to die. He recalled his last gasp, the final desperate mouthful of air that buzzed in his chest as his body sank beneath the waves. Nothing registered after that until the moment he found himself gagging and gasping for breath on the floor of the wheelhouse.
He glanced over at Roy to make sure he was still awake, and then realized how stupid that was. There was no way Roy was going to sleep tonight. “I still can’t get over Hughes.”
“You’re surprised he went after you?”
“He jumped into the fucking ocean during a fucking storm to save me. He could’ve died.”
“You saved his son.”
“That’s what I mean. He has kids. A wife. He didn’t even hesitate to throw it all to the wind to save my ass.”
Roy smiled gently. “He’s Hughes.”
“I mean, if it had been you, or Al, I would be equally grateful, don’t get me wrong, but not surprised. And I know that Hughes is a hell of a guy, but come on. Who does that? He had to know the odds of coming out of the water alive, not to mention saving me, had to be astronomically against him.”
“He’s never been terribly good at math.” Roy shook his head slightly.
Ed rested his head against Roy’s pillow. “The list of people who have saved my life is getting longer, and I’m not sure how I feel about that.”
“God, I wonder what that’s like?” Roy rolled his eyes. “Nobody’s keeping score, Ed. It took me a long time to realize that the people who actually give a shit about you don’t do that.”
It annoyed him that Roy was right, but then he thought about how glad he was that he could be annoyed at all, and that sort of evened out his irritation. He muttered something akin to agreement, and then turned to lie on his stomach.
That lasted about two seconds before the aching in his ribs prompted him to return to his back, which he did with a great amount of swearing.
“What’s wrong?”
“Hurts too much to lie like that. I must have hit the water at some weird angle. My ribs are killing me.”
“That’s probably my fault. I pushed really hard on them when we were trying to save you,” Roy said. “Al was kind of impressed that I didn’t break any.”
“Thanks for that.”
Roy’s hand ghosted over his chest, but didn’t settle; Ed knew he was afraid of causing him further pain. “Here,” Ed said, taking Roy’s fingers and resting them on the pulse at the base of his throat. “Now you can obsess as long as you like and it won’t hurt me.”
“Don’t pretend. You think obsession is hot.”
Ed smiled. “I guess.” He stroked the skin of Roy’s forearm, tracing veins over muscle. “Do you think it’s weird that I still really like the ocean?”
“Even though it tried to kill you?”
“Yeah.”
Roy pondered for a moment. “Well, at least in the ocean’s case, it wasn’t personal. I suppose if you started resenting everything that tried to kill you, it would make life pretty bleak.”
“For you and I more than most people, I’d think.” Ed exhaled. “I want to go down on record saying that if you ever, say, get to pick the way I’m going to die—don’t ask me why, I’m just saying—that I would prefer not to drown, okay?”
Roy shifted uncomfortably next to him. “Okay. I would prefer you not die at all. How’s that sound?”
“A nice sentiment, although it’s not exactly practical.”
“Practical is for losers. I’m the fucking Prime Minister, and I say no one I love dies.”
“That’s a platform to run on if I ever heard one.”
Roy leaned close to him, pressing a kiss against his temple, and then another on his mouth. “God, you feel so much warmer.”
Ed returned his kiss, nipping Roy’s bottom lip before letting him go. “I’ve been told I’m pretty sexy when I’m not suffering from hypothermia.”
“I don’t think near drowning is a good look on you, though.”
“What would you suggest instead?”
“I was thinking well-rested, well-fed, warm and breathing, for starters.”
“I think I can manage that. At least I got the breathing part down.”
“See if you can keep that up, okay?” Roy’s fingers twitched against his collarbone.
“Don’t worry. I won’t disappoint you.”
**
Hughes dribbled a spoonful of soup down his pajama top, and he laughed, wiping at his chin with his sleeve. “You’d think this was my first time eating.”
Pulling a handkerchief out of her pocket, Gracia shook her head, dabbing at Hughes’ mouth before she took away the half-eaten bowl. “You’re worse than the children.”
He used her close proximity to kiss her cheek. “You can’t take me anywhere.”
“Don’t I know it.” Gracia sat beside him on the edge of the bed, resting the back of her hand against his forehead. “You feeling better?”
“I’m fine.” He looked at her over the rim of his glasses, giving her a smile. “You forgiven me yet?”
Her hand traced the contours of his face, smoothing away his tiredness. “You don’t do things that need forgiving. You do things that scare me half to death sometimes. It’s not the same thing.”
“I was the only one there. I didn’t have a choice,” he started to say, but she pushed a finger lightly against his lips.
“He’s someone else’s son. Someone else’s brother. You don’t need to explain.” She reached out, enveloping him in her arms. He let her sweet scent wash over him, filling him with a thousand good memories.
“God, you smell good.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “I haven’t taken a bath in almost two days.”
“You’d never know.” He reached up, tipping her chin to give him better access to her mouth as he kissed her.
She kissed him back, but pulled away before he was ready. “Maes. Al said you needed to rest.”
“Kissing is very relaxing.”
Gracia raised her eyebrows at him, smiling in the way that drove him to distraction every time. “Not the way you do it.”
Hughes sighed, letting his head fall back against the wall. Her hand rested on his knee, and he reached out to cover it with his own. “You know I love you, don’t you?”
“You have told me a few times, and I am inclined to believe you.”
“I really do.”
“I know.” She brushed his hair back from his forehead with her free hand. “I love you, too. Now eat your soup.”