waxwings | IC CONTACT

He froze at that response, staring at the message for a long moment and unable to form a response. It wasn't something he'd wish on anyone, feeling that helpless, but it was even harder for him to reconcile with the thought that now the kid must understand why he'd behaved as he had during the dance.

After a few moments, he decided that he couldn't form words in response to that, forced himself upright to cross the hall to the kid's room and knocked on the door instead.

Edward had thought that his counterpart was just taking his time with his response. This had to be difficult for him to talk about right? And he had taken a while with some of his others. Completely unprepared to hear anyone at his door and with frayed nerves to boot, the knock startled him enough that his breath caught in his chest. He took a moment to collect himself (at least as much as he could) and chastise himself for such an extreme reaction before opening the door.

At first it was just a crack, just to make sure it was the person he thought it was, then he opened it enough to let the other man in if he chose to do so. The teen wouldn't mind either way. "What?"

He brushed past the teen into the room, clearly struggling with what he was trying to say, unable to find the words or gather a coherent thought. The adult had been pretty mad, mad that none of them had survived, mad that nothing could be done about it, he hadn't been able to help and all that anger had been pent up and directed at his counterpart because he didn't know what else to do with it. It was easy to blame the kid, assume he'd done something stupid, let his temper get the best of him and he hated knowing he'd done nothing to help, hadn't been aware until it was too late. He could barely keep himself out of similar trouble.

He couldn't reconcile that reaction with this and it made him sick. When he does finally find his voice, gaze averted with the guilt, he only gets out two words.

"I'm sorry."

Ed had been there, more times than he cared to admit, he could understand the terror that came with it, and nothing he'd gone through had led to his death. This must have been what Mustang felt like when he'd first seen his back, which wasn't even close to this.

The thought hadn't gone away since this nightmare began. If only they could have done something to keep this from happening.

Ed closed the door after the adult brushed past him. He might be doing a somewhat decent job of keeping his face neutral, but his stiff posture gave away how tense he was. The whole point of talking about this over the phone and through text was so neither of them had to deal with the other's emotions, right? Then again, maybe whatever his counterpart had to say just had to be said in person.

Or did it?

A healthy heap of confusion was now piled onto his other emotions. "Why are you apologizing?" The teen knew that the older Ed had no control over what had happened to either of them. Sure, he might have been the first one to come to his senses in that suburban nightmare, but if their positions were reversed, the teen would have likely done the same if not attracted even more attention to everyone.

While he was entirely on board with the whole avoiding emotions aspect that text afforded them, he couldn't respond to the damn thing. There was taking some time to answer and there was just not replying at all and he couldn't do that to the teen when he clearly wanted to talk about this. Nothing to be said that needed to be in person, he just wanted it clear that the adult wasn't shutting him out. This was the only way he could think to do that, and maybe it wasn't the wisest choice but neither of them was operating on all cylinders right now. It was this or total silence.

Ed looked up at the question only to glance away again, immediately. This definitely wasn't any easier in person and he didn't have an answer that could be articulated well with the state of mind he was currently in.

It wasn't about not being able to help him, and he wasn't going to say the reality of his thoughts behind those words. Ed kind of figured it wouldn't be well received, even if he was entirely honest.

There was one thing he could address, though.

"Because I know what it's like."

Having his automail used against him like that, thinking with such certainty he wouldn't come out of it alive. Not being able to help someone else because of it - even if that part hadn't been said out loud - were all things that he could relate to.

Edward let the adult's words hang in the air.

Because I know what it's like.

"Right." Because the adult was from an Amestris that was more twisted, crueler than the one Ed knew. There were also the other worlds he had been to, and the fact that he had arrived in this hellhole before the teenager. Literally anything could have happened to him.

Here they were, standing awkwardly in the teen's bedroom, and Ed only had himself to blame for it. He was the one that had started this conversation, had wanted to get this off his chest. He didn't realize how bad he was at this until he only had himself to talk to.

Edited (I have the memory of a goldfish trapped in a bottle of vodka) 2020-06-04 00:00 (UTC)

He didn't really want the reminder of what had happened at the dance, but the conversation they'd had previously did come to mind when the teen responded. He wasn't thinking about it, which might have been a problem, now that it was out there. It wasn't as if he was all that interested in an I told you so conversation so there wasn't much more he could say on the subject.

The adult shifts, crossing his arms over his chest. No one should have to go through any of that but there was probably someone on this plane of existence that the teen might prefer to talk to about this. If he had someone he was more comfortable with it didn't make much sense that he'd come to him, to begin with, unless he really was just trying to check on him out of courtesy. Which was weird enough even if he knew how the kid was.

This was exactly why he'd showed up in person, he couldn't wrap his mind around how he was supposed to handle this discussion more than just being there to listen, and this was a much easier way of doing that so the kid wouldn't feel ignored. It wasn't as if 'you'll get used to this' was a reassuring assessment at all.

Ed let himself fall back on his bed and stared at the ceiling while he tried to process everything. He had started this conversation because he had needed to talk to someone about what had happened, and maybe, since his double was older, maybe he'd be able to provide some insight or something.

But now there was just this long silence hanging over the both of them and he didn't know what else to say. All he knew right now was how much he missed everyone from home. (Well, not everyone.) He had never felt so...alone.

Without thinking that he was jumping subjects, Ed mumbled. "I don't know if you ever thought about it, and I never told Al, but...I always preferred that if either of us would end up alone it would be me. I never realized how hard it was."

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