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Edward groaned, clutching his stomach as he walked. Fucking hell, it hurt. He just wanted to lay down for a while and wait for it to get better, but no. He just had to report to Colonel Bastard.
“Brother? Are you alright?” Al questioned beside him.
“Fine, Al. My stomach just hurts a little bit.”
“Are you getting sick, Brother? Should we put this off for another time? I’m sure Colonel won’t mind if you’re sick.”
Ed waved him off. “Nah, it’s just a little stomachache. It’ll be fine. It isn’t even that bad.”
As he said that, a stabbing pain shot through his stomach. He grimaced, but gave no other indication of his pain. He just wanted to get this over with so he could lay down in a dark room for a while until it passed. Maybe sleep for a while. Yeah, that sounded nice.
He paused in front of the base door once they arrived, turning towards Al. “Hey, do you think you could go get some painkillers for me while I report to the bastard? I’ll meet you back at the room.”
“It really must be bad if you’re asking for painkillers. But sure, I can do that. I’ll see you later, Brother. Let me know if you need anything else!” With that, his younger brother walked off.
Ed took a deep breath before walking into the base. He felt too shitty to do this, but he didn’t want to put it off, either. Colonel Bastard would be more annoying than usual about it if he did.
His ribs were starting to hurt, too. He needed to take his binder off soon. How long had he been wearing it, again? He didn’t know, but it had been a while. That probably wasn’t good. He didn’t want to crack his ribs. Again.
He had started out binding with bandages, which he quickly learned had not been a good idea when he’d hurt his ribs. Winry had been furious with him. Furious and worried. She’d demanded to know what the hell he thought he was doing and why.
That was how he’d ended up coming out to her, Al, and Granny. He had been scared shitless, but they accepted him immediately. Hell, Winry was even the one who came up with the name Edward for him.
All three of them made it very clear he wasn’t to bind with bandages again. It took some trial and error, but he eventually figured out how to make a binder out of fabric that was much less dangerous than bandages. He still had to take breaks to avoid hurting himself anyway, of course, but it was a much safer option than he had before.
Right now he definitely needed one of those breaks. His ribs hurt and his stomach hurt and he did not want to give a report right now. But putting it off would be a pain in the ass, so he’d suck it up. Just a little bit longer and he’d get to take some painkillers and lay down in a dark room until he felt better. He could handle it until then.
He didn’t particularly feel up to his usual entrance, but it was expected of him by now, so he did it anyway. He kicked in the door to Colonel Bastard’s office as hard as he could, shouting “Hey, bastard! I’ve got my report!”
He’d just gotten back from Youswell. He’d had to lie a little on his report - he couldn’t admit to creating gold , after all, even if he undid it after - but it would probably be fine. He didn’t think Colonel would figure it out. Even if he did, he doubted the man would care since he undid it right after. He probably didn’t have to worry. He felt too shitty right now to care one way or the other, anyway.
“Hello, Fullmetal. Exuberant as always, I see,” the Colonel greeted him as he slammed his report down on the desk.
Ed scowled. “Just take the damn report already. Can I go?”
Mustang tsked. “Hold on a second, Fullmetal. You know the drill by now. I have to make sure your report is actually legible, after all.” Ed’s scowl deepened, but he sat in the chair in front of Mustang’s desk, anyway.
Bastard. His handwriting wasn’t that bad. He’d like to see the man just try to write even half as well as he did if his dominant hand was metal. Writing left-handed was a pain in the ass, but Edward had it down to an art, damn it.
He watched as Mustang’s eyes scanned over his paper a bit longer before setting it down again. “Huh. It’s surprisingly legible. Unexpected, coming from you.”
“Shut the hell up, bastard! I’d like to see you write with a metal arm!” he seethed. The teasing was making him angrier than usual for some reason.
Mustang smirked the same stupid way he always did at Ed’s response. “Well, that’s all I need from you for now. You’re free to go. I’ll let you know later if we’ll have to follow up on anything.”
“Finally!” Ed exclaimed, practically jumping out of the chair. He tried not to wince at the pain that shot through him at the sudden movement, but Mustang seemed to notice anyway. He frowned, but didn’t say anything.
Edward was almost to the door, so close to sweet freedom, when Mustang’s voice stopped him. “Fullmetal, what the hell? You didn’t mention getting injured. Are you alright?” Ed turned around, slightly taken aback by the concern painted on the Colonel’s face. He frowned. What the hell was he talking about? He wasn’t injured. What did the bastard mean?
Ed’s eyes widened in horror as he saw the blood on the chair where he’d been sitting. Well, that explained the Colonel’s concern. But what the fuck? He hadn’t been injured. Where was it coming from?
His blood turned to ice in his veins as the realization hit him. The sharp stomach pains, his increased irritability, his tiredness - he’d read about all those things before, knew what they meant. He hadn’t realized what was happening until he saw the blood, though.
His period. He’d started his fucking period. And bled all over the bastard’s chair. Great. Absolutely fucking fantastic.
He felt himself beginning to panic. It was his first period, and he didn’t have the slightest clue what to do. He should’ve prepared himself more; he was twelve, of course he knew he’d be getting it soon. But as much as he’d learned about them from biology books, none of them told him how to actually deal with them. What the fuck was he supposed to do?
There was another problem adding to his panic. Colonel Bastard didn’t know he was trans. Next to no one did. Al, Winry, and Granny knew, of course. The Fuhrer himself had somehow figured it out during his state alchemist exam, but had quietly assured him it wouldn’t affect whether or not he was allowed in. It had shocked him, but it had been better than trying to keep the fact that he was trans secret from the military. He didn’t need to be hiding that on top of the whole human transmutation thing. He’d get in enough trouble as it was for that.
But that was it. Four people. Only three of which were actually a regular part of his life. It made sense that Colonel thought he was injured, but what would he tell him? He didn’t want to admit the truth in fear of his reaction, but he didn’t want to go see a medic, either, something the bastard would inevitably try to make him do. He wouldn’t be in any trouble for being trans - the Fuhrer himself would ensure that - but that didn’t mean whoever he saw wouldn’t let his secret slip. He didn’t want the whole damn military knowing the Fullmetal Alchemist was trans. No, that had to stay a secret. It had to.
“It’s nothing! I’m fine! I’ll be right back!” Ed bolted out of the room, rushing towards the nearest bathroom. He ignored the colonel calling his name behind him.
Real smooth, Ed, he thought scathingly. Yeah, that wasn’t suspicious at all.
He locked himself in a stall, simply trying to hide away and remember how to breathe again. The bathroom was empty, at least. That was good.
Well, it was, at least. He heard footsteps before they stopped in front of his stall, followed by a knock on the door. “Fullmetal? Hey, are you okay? We need to get you checked out if you’re hurt.” He’d never heard the man sound so concerned before.
Ed felt tears brimming in his eyes. Stupid fucking hormones, making him all emotional. He’d never live it down if he cried in front of Colonel Bastard.
“I’m fine! Just go away, bastard!” Damn it, his voice was all watery. The colonel wouldn’t need to see his face to know he was about to start crying. Fuck.
“Fullmetal, please. I know you don’t like people knowing when you’re injured, but you need to get that taken care of. Let me help you, kid.” Since when was the colonel able to sound so caring, anyway? It was weird. And also kind of nice, if Ed was honest. The tears began spilling over, and in a moment of impulsiveness, the boy opened the door.
“Bastard, I’m fine! I’m not hurt and I don’t need help! Just drop it already!” The tears streaming down his face were not helping his case, but he couldn’t stop them from coming.
Mustang’s face looked softer than he’d ever seen it before. He was used to the man looking smug, not concerned. It was kind of off-putting.
The man sighed. “Kid, that’s obviously not true. I mean, you’re crying. You never do that. Not to mention all the blood you left on the chair in there. What else could that mean except that you’re injured?”
Ed knew it was rash, but he couldn’t stop himself. He felt a bit vindictive at the man’s whole “I know what’s best for you so you should listen to me” attitude. That and the fact that he was acting like he was so obviously right. He couldn’t help but want to prove him wrong.
“It means I’m on my fucking period, bastard!” he bit out. And yeah, it was stupid, and Al would no doubt chew him out for it later, but the uncomprehending look on Mustang’s face followed by one of shock was definitely worth it.
“I…you…Fullmetal, what?” Mustang stuttered, and oh was it a sight to see. The usually confident, smug man being barely able to speak was fucking hilarious. It was almost enough to quell his worry from his sudden coming out. Almost. It slowed his tears, at least.
“What, do you not know what a period is? You’d think the guy known for being a womanizer would at least know that much. Maybe you’re not as smart as you think you are,” Ed snarked. The familiar insults were the only thing keeping him from spiraling into a panic attack.
“No, I do, but you… what?” Was the bastard really that stupid? Was it really that hard for him to understand? Did Ed actually have to spell it out for him?
“I’m trans, dipshit.” And there it was, out in the open. No more hiding. No taking it back.
Understanding finally dawned on the man’s face, and Ed took a deep breath, steeling himself for the inevitable rejection. “I’m trans,” he repeated once more, quietly.
There was a stretch of silence between them before Ed found himself talking once more, tears spilling over again. He wasn’t even entirely sure what he was saying, but he was desperate to get it all out. “Look, I don’t care if you hate me now. I don’t. But don’t think you can get me kicked out or anything, okay?” His voice was watery and he knew he was rambling, but he couldn’t stop himself. “Fuhrer Bradley already knows and is fine with it, so don’t even bother. If you want me to be reassigned, that’s fine, but don’t expect me to-“
His words were cut off as the man leaned forward and hugged him. Actually hugged him. Ed stiffened in shock. What?
“Kid, I’m not gonna try and get you reassigned or kicked out or anything. I don’t care about that. And I don’t hate you, Fullmetal. I could never.” And damn the bastard for making him cry even harder with those words.“I’m glad you trusted me enough to tell me.” He buried his face in the man’s shoulder, finally returning his hug.
As his tears finally slowed to a stop, he pulled back from the man, rubbing his eyes with his flesh hand. “Do you need a pad or a tampon, then?” Mustang asked. “I keep some in my desk. Usually for Hawkeye, but sometimes other soldiers need them, too.”
Ed blinked in surprise. “You keep pads and tampons in your desk?”
The man simply smirked. “Of course. Never hurts to be prepared. Besides, I had a lot of sisters growing up. It’s nothing I’m not used to.” That was probably the most information the man had ever offered about himself. Ed wasn’t sure how to respond. Luckily, he didn’t need to. “Come on,” Mustang continued. “I’ll get you one.”
Edward followed the colonel mutely, not really knowing what to say. He just embarrassed himself crying in front of the man before coming out to him on impulse. What the hell was he supposed to say now?
Edward stopped in front of his desk, trying not to look at the bloodied chair. Mustang caught his avoidance. “Don’t worry about that. It happens. I’ll get that cleaned up in a minute.” Now he was cleaning up after him, too? What the hell kind of dream was this?
“Pad or tampon?” Mustang asked, opening one of his desk’s drawers.
“Uh…” Edward wasn’t sure how to answer. He’d never used either before. How was he supposed to know which one he preferred?
The man looked expectantly at him, frowning when he didn’t answer after a moment. “…Edward, is this your first period?” he finally asked.
Ed felt his face flush, nodding mutely. Was he that obvious? This whole situation was making him want to crawl in a hole and die.
“Alright, then. I’ll grab some of both. My sisters always said pads were easier to start with, though, so you might want to just use one of those. Up to you, though. Do you have any at home?” He shook his head. “I’ll give you some to bring with you, as well, then.”
What the hell? The man was being so nice to him. So helpful. Edward wasn’t sure how to feel. He was almost afraid he’d start crying again.
God, he hated feeling so damn emotional.
The man placed them in his hands. He shoved them in his pockets. Ed didn’t want to risk anyone else seeing them. He didn’t want to have to explain that.
“Do you know how to use them?” Ed was sure his face was redder than a tomato at this point. He shook his head. This was so embarrassing. He didn’t want his commanding officer explaining how to use menstrual products. Literally anyone else would’ve been preferable. But Mustang was the only one around. He was the only one who knew of Ed’s predicament.
The man took it all in stride, seemingly not even fazed by the situation. After a quick explanation, Edward hurried off to the bathroom, desperate to escape the situation.
Mustang’s explanation was helpful, at least. Even if it was awkward as hell. The stupid pad had to be the most uncomfortable thing Ed had ever felt, but at least he knew how to use it thanks to the man.
Speaking of which, the colonel was waiting for him outside the bathroom. “Do you need anything else?” he asked. “Painkillers, maybe?”
Ed shook his head. “No, Al’s getting some for me.” He paused for a moment, debating himself internally. “Thanks, by the way.”
The words felt foreign on his tongue. He was used to exchanging insults with the man. It was definitely weird to be thanking him, but he felt like he had to. Mustang reacted so well, and had even helped him with his first period. The bastard deserved thanks for that, at least.
He better not get used to it, though. I’m not doing it again!
The man smiled at him, far different from his usual smirks. “Alright then. I’ll see you later, Fullmetal. Let me know if you need anything else.” With that, the man turned around, heading back toward his office.
Edward couldn’t help the small smile that made its way onto his face as he headed out of the base to meet back up with Al. That hadn’t been as bad as he’d expected. He felt lighter now that the colonel knew. He was happy that he’d come out to the man, which was the last thing he’d ever expected. The man had hugged him, calmed him down, and helped him through his first period. None of those things were things he ever saw the colonel doing, but it made him think this situation wasn’t as bad as he’d first thought. It showed him a side of Mustang he hadn’t even known existed.
Maybe the bastard wasn’t so bad, after all.