This is the ninth chapter of the arc called "Gains and Losses". It is Havoc-centric. It is set in the mangaverse, so if you don't know what happens to Havoc around Chapter 38, then read it before you start this fic.
Title: Admissions
Author: SeaweedOtter
Beta: The omnipresent
havocmangawip Characters: Mostly Jean Havoc, but the most of the rest of the gang appears.
Rating: PG for a little language
Disclaimer: Manga Spoilers... Set in the manga, a couple years after the end of chapter 38. Maybe AU?
Summary: The first step to fixing a problem is admitting that you have one.
Read all the chapters so far
HERE! "You okay there, Mr. Havoc?" the driver asked.
It was pretty bad, Havoc thought, when even the driver who only sees him a few minutes a day when he drives the man to and from work notices that something is wrong. "You didn't get any bad news, did you?"
Havoc was quiet for a moment, his brain fighting between telling him to shut up and telling him what happened. He didn't really know the man well -- his driver, James Harrier, but he had always been a good listener and he was starting to regard the young man as a friend.
"Well, maybe," he finally replied with a sigh. "See, there’s this girl that I kinda like. I think I just ruined it with her. And I already told you, please call me Jean, or just Havoc if you want. I’m a military man; I’m used to being called by my last name."
"Yes sir, Havoc. It’s a shame about the gal. I know how ya feel. I was seeing this gal, Elizabeth for a little while. Man, she was some lady! She had curves to die for and she was tough. I thought she liked me, but she told me it wouldn't work out," he said and then shrugged. "Oh well, ya live, ya learn."
He couldn't help but smile. Elizabeth. That was the code name that Hawkeye had used in some of their covert operations. He could have been describing her, the way it sounded. For just a second, Havoc's mind wandered. But there is no way that that could be talking about Hawkeye. She was married to the Fuhrer now. She wasn't the type to take love flippantly.
Hawkeye.
He let out a deep breath, remembering her and all his friends, friends that were finally back together in Central for the first time in what seemed like a lifetime. They were all waiting for him, and here he was, trying to get some semblance of normalcy in his life. Was it too much to think that maybe after everything that had happened to him, that maybe he deserved for a little luck to go his way? Did whatever deity that was watching over them just enjoy torturing him? Did said deity enjoy taking away any semblance of normalcy in his life, without granting him something as simple as someone to spend that life with?
Those alchemists believed in the law of equivalent exchange. So where the hell was his equivalent exchange, damn it?
He sighed heavily. He didn't like this line of thinking. It was just making him feel worse.
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"Havoc, you don't look too well," Fuhrer Mustang Observed casually.
"I don't feel too well, Fuhrer, sir," Havoc replied. It felt so weird to have to call him Fuhrer, but they were in public, and he knew that even though it was common knowledge that they knew each other well, Havoc had to obey protocol and keep their conversation and speech formal.
Mustang stirred his coffee and leaned over the lunchroom table towards the man across from him. "Come on, Jean," he said in a low tone. "Tell me what is wrong."
Havoc hesitated for a second, then sighed and looked down at the table, not wanting to make eye contact. "Well, there is this girl." He didn't even need to look up to see the smirk that played against the Fuhrer's face.
"Oh really? Please continue," Mustang replied smugly. Havoc groaned. He knew that tone of voice, the ever knowing, self satisfied Mustang.
"Well, we see each other a good bit, just in passing. And well... I think I kind of like her. I am not sure, but I think she may like me too." He paused for a moment and took a swig of coffee, grimacing at the cold liquid that passed his lips. "But I think I screwed it up."
"What the hell did you do, Havoc?" Mustang asked as he leaned forward further, dropping his voice, his black eyes burning holes into Havoc.
"I... umm...”
"Out with it!" Mustang barked. Havoc knew that was an order, not a request.
"I umm... got a stiffy," Havoc mumbled, his voice barely a whisper.
Mustang burst out laughing, causing people from the tables around them to glance his way for a moment. His expression became stern and he shot them a look, making them go back to what they were doing in half a heartbeat. Nobody wanted to be at the wrong end of his snapping fingers.
He leaned back in, biting his lip slightly to reign in his mirth. Mustang's eyes lit up as he asked, "You got a little excited and you think that scared her away? It's Ross, isn't it? You were at therapy and you got excited when she was touching you while you were exercising." The grin on his face, the glint in his eyes said it all. Mustang was good, Havoc thought. He didn't miss a thing. No wonder he was Fuhrer at such a young age.
"That is mostly right," he admitted. "She was doing acupuncture. Are you familiar with it?"
"A little."
Havoc smiled. This was one thing he knew at least a little more about than Mustang. It was a tiny victory, but he would take them where he could get them. "Well, you get needles stuck in you, and it relaxes you. It relaxed me too much." It was horrible, but he took another sip of the swill the mess hall called coffee. "So after that she said we should stop and she took all her stuff and vamoosed pretty quickly. That was this morning."
Mustang smiled as he considered the information. "Hmm... No wonder you look so off today. I guess that would throw any man for a loop. He pushed his coffee off to the side, and locked his fingers together, his elbows on the table, resting his chin on his locked hands. It was a position that he had seen the former colonel take when he was dealing with Fullmetal. It was his fatherly, "I know more than you so I am going to give you advice" position. Havoc groaned. He was afraid of what was about to come.
"Let me give you a few tips, from one man to another," Mustang started. His voice wasn't full of sarcasm or showiness. It was low, honest and almost... sad, he thought. "Maria Ross is a good woman. She followed my orders when her life was in danger without hesitation. She trusted me and because of that she is back here with us instead of a pile of ash in a back alleyway."
Havoc nodded, looking Roy in the eye for the first time during that uncomfortable conversation. He noticed Roy's eyes were ringed with dark circles from many sleepless nights and quite possibly regret. Havoc thought about that night, the last time he saw her, pulling her back through the dumpster into a another dirty, run down alley. They met up with Falman, then just like that she was gone, off to Xing, and he thought, out of his life. He had never told anyone that he had to bite his lip when she left to stop the lump forming in his throat. He thought at the time he was just sad to see a fellow solider leave, but now he wasn't so sure.
"I can tell by the way you talk about her. You get this dreamy look in your eyes, and your mind wanders. I know you are thinking about her. It is painfully obvious that you like her. Hell, when we went out to dinner for your birthday, I saw the little looks that you were giving her when you thought no one was looking. She was sneaking glances your way too. I think it was obvious to everyone at that table besides you guys that you like each other. I could see your parents smiling. They noticed it too. They know you better than anyone. You think they wouldn’t notice that?"
Havoc smacked his head on the table, making the plates and silverware on the table rattle. By now the people at the neighboring tables knew better than to pay any attention to what was going on at the Fuhrer's table. "Is it that bad?" He was glad at least with his head on the table his deep blushing couldn't be seen.
"Yeah, Havoc. It's that bad."
"Oh, shit."
Mustang smiled wider and finished his coffee, then stood up. "Havoc, this is an order from your commanding officer. Talk to her about this. If you like her, tell her so. If you don't and she gets away, you will regret it for the rest of your life. I didn't see what I had right under my nose. It took me a long time to see how special Hawkeye, er Riza is, and I can't think about what I would have done if I hadn't come to my senses." Havoc looked up from the table, nodding, a sigh escaping his lips.
"Tell her. Don't wait. Don't hesitate. She likes you for who you are, not what you are or are not." Havoc knew what he meant by that, without it having to be said. She didn't care that he was only half a man, she knew who he had been, and she knew he was still the same Havoc that had pulled her out of danger all those years ago.
"Thanks, sir," Havoc said and then saluted. Mustang saluted back, taking both of their trays and walking towards the trash, calling over his shoulder. "And I want a full report when that reconnaissance mission is done, solider!" He couldn’t miss that wide grin on the Fuhrer's face.
"Yes, sir," he muttered, grinning. Maybe today was looking up.
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He didn't sleep well that night, trying to go over and over in his mind what he would say to her and all the possible replies that she may give. He tried to think of every possibility. What if Mustang was wrong? What if she didn't like him? Would he need a new therapist? She was great therapy-wise. He was really making progress. He'd hate to lose that. Maybe they could stay friends? That was the best of the worst case scenarios that kept popping into his head.
Havoc was almost happy when he watched the sun come slowly creeping up from the large window in his bedroom. At least it meant that his waiting was over, and that for better or worse, he was going to find out what she thought about him. He sighed softly and transferred from his bed to the chair that was constantly at his side. After taking care of the morning needs, he rolled quietly out the front door for a quick smoke.
By the time he was done, and his mind had conjured up about a thousand more ways that Ross could react to the fact that he liked her, he rolled back inside, carefully gathering up the paper from the from porch without tipping himself over, and rolled back inside, amusing himself with the news of the day until Janet woke up a short time later.
Janet woke her husband up soon after that, and the three of them had a pleasant, if slightly quiet breakfast. They both knew that something had spooked Havoc yesterday, and it apparently had something to do with Ross, but neither of them had asked, and he was glad for it. He really didn't feel like talking about it, especially with Janet.
While Janet was cleaning dishes, she started to feel a bit faint, holding herself up against the counter. "Why don't you go lie down. I can finish." Havoc offered, and Breda led his wife back into the bedroom, mouthing a thanks to his friend. It wasn't easy for Havoc, He had to reach up and into the sink, feeling blindly over the high counter, but with a little ingenuity, and a little extra time, he we able to clean the majority of the dishes in the sink.
There were a few at the very bottom that he couldn't reach, and he didn't have the right handholds to pull himself up into a standing position. He sighed, wishing he could be more help, but he figured that he could apologize later. He looked that the clock and silently cursed himself. He had taken a lot longer than he thought, and Ross was due to be here any minute.
As if right on cue, there was a knock at the door. Havoc quickly dried his hands on a dishtowel and rolled to the front door, opening it for her. At first, she looked down at the bag that she always carried with her. the one that contained the implements of Havoc's torture. She finally looked at him, a shy smile on her face.
"Are you, ready Jean?" She softly asked.
"Uh, I guess so." he gulped and let her in, then closed the door and hesitated for a second before following her into the other room. It was going to be a long morning, he was sure.
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The first part of the workout was dead quiet, neither Ross nor Havoc wanting to look the other in the eye. Occasionally Ross would try to steal a glance, and when Havoc would look at her, her cheeks would flush and she would turn away. She would only talk when she had to ask or tell him to do something, and he would wordlessly comply.
"Jean this is ridiculous. We need to talk about this." She stopped the range of motion exercises that she had been doing on his legs, ad gently put it back down on the ground. "Obviously this is bothering both of us." Havoc sighed and nodded, but still stayed quiet.
"I am not sure how you feel, although by what happened yesterday I can guess," she said, and Havoc looked down at the floor in front of him. "I guess.. well, I just want to know what is going on in your head, Jean Havoc." Gently she took a hand and cupped his chin, gently pulling it up until he was looking at her, face to face. "If there is something that you want to tell me, then do it, please."
"Maria..." he started to say. A lump formed in his throat, and he loudly swallowed. Somewhere deep in the back of his head he heard his commanding officer yelling at him to tell her- don't hesitate and don't wait.
"Maria, I- "
"Jean, Maria! Come quick!" Both heads snapped back toward the door, where Breda stood, gasping for breath, sweating and panting. "It is time! It is time! Come quick! We need to get to the hospital! The baby is coming!"