The Rest of the Story

A/N: greed/ed, well, I didn't quite go as far as you asked, but we have Nikki at 18 and using her dad's name for professional purposes. And the family knows he wasn't a bad guy, has known since Aideen was capable of telling them in her own words without Dante manipulating her. (Even if her family didn't know, Aideen knew Phillip only did what he did because he loved her. He just couldn't tell that it was Dante in control when Nikki was conceived.) And even though there isn't an outright apology, Rose is in here interacting with Ed, so we'll just assume it's happned at some point (probably long before the end of Worlds Collide).

Words

Ed sat in the living room waiting on Nikki; she’d told him she had something to tell him. When the door opened at the front, he saw the eighteen-year-old smiling at him nervously.

“Hi, Granddad,” she said, giving him a hug.

“Hey, Rosebud.” He kissed her cheek. “So, am I going to be interviewed by ace reporter Phillis Mustang?”

She blushed a little at that, since she’d been on the university’s paper only a few months, using her first name on any article she wrote for it.

“Here Granddad. It’s my newspaper!” The six-year old said, handing him a slightly crumpled piece of paper. “Grandpa! I have one for you too.”

Ed looked to Roy, reading the paper Nikki had so proudly given him. “Look at this: ‘Why my Granddad is so great.’”
“Look at the back, Ed,” Roy said to him. “‘Why my Grandpa is really cool.’”
“I got the front page,” Ed teased.

“Well, Granddad,” Nikki said, looking down at her feet, “I, well, I don’t think I can.”

Ed grabbed her hand, smaller and thinner than his own—she was the only member of the family who had not surpassed him in size—and pulled her onto the sofa beside him. “Nikki, what’s wrong? Is it because we’re related?”

“No,” she said, eyes the same color as her grandfather’s looking into his, “I knew the paper wanted that, a story about your research being published written by your granddaughter. They expected it to be biased in your favor. Even though I don't like it, that isn’t the problem.” She took a deep breath and sighed. “You leave so many things out in your research. As your granddaughter and someone who’s privy to why you’ve kept the secrets of the homunculi and Dante to yourself, I understand. As a journalist, my first instinct is to publish them and tell the world. I can’t do a story where I know you’re lying; I just can’t. Of course, I didn’t tell my editors that. I said that I couldn’t write a story based on my family when it should be a hard news piece.”

Understanding completely, Ed smiled warmly and hugged her.

“And that concludes the news,” the nine-year-old said from within her cardboard box television set.

Seated beside Rose, the two proud grandparents clapped their hands together.

“You don’t clap for newscasters,” Nikki said.

“You aren’t a real newscaster,” her brother Oliver pointed out. At five, the little blond found his sister’s overactive imagination too silly for him. He was too engrossed in a book—one with very few pictures—to be playing along with games of make-believe.

“But I’m practicing to be one, Oliver,” she said. He only rolled his hazel eyes in response and turned the page of his book on rockets.

“I think you will make a very good reporter,” Rose said, opening her arms for the petite young girl.

“Thank you, Mum-mum,” Nikki said, hugging her.

“I’m going to be working on a story about the memorial service for the people lost when the Gate opened.”

“Your Grandpa is speaking at that and they are honoring your father,” Ed said, kissing her curly head. “Won’t that ruin your cover story for not doing the interview with me?”

She shook her head. “The memorial service story they really wanted to have a more emotional tone to it, so it works out better this way.” He released Nikki from the hug and she sat beside him, head resting on his shoulder. “I was glad to see they're getting Grandpa to talk at it. They don’t do that often enough since he retired.”

“Well, when they said they were going to be honoring several soldiers including your father, Roy insisted.” He rested his head on his granddaughter’s. “We’ve never really forgiven ourselves for some of the things we said to him.”

“What the hell is this!” Nikki yelled out while walking by the newsstands. “‘Phillis Nichole Mustang a child of rape! Friend of deceased father tells all!’”

Nikki was fifteen by now and while Ed knew she was aware she was unexpected, but to see this trash published in a paper, trash he had once accused Phillip of, was enough to make him want to grab Roy’s gloves off of him and incinerate the stand that instant.

“What kind of shit do they pass for news?” Nikki said, almond-shaped eyes narrowing into mere slits. She looked over at her two grandfathers, who had been taking her out that night to celebrate good marks from her classes. “I swear, I’m going to find the reporters who write this, this crap and have their jobs! If I ever, ever become a so-called journalist like them, please, shoot me.”

Roy and Ed nodded, knowing that tonight Aideen was going to have to explain to her eldest daughter everything of that night with Phillip. She would have to explain what Phillip’s friend had seen that day and that her reaction to the young man had nothing to do with rape on his part, but fear that Dante would use him against her again. Aideen would have to explain it all, and Fletcher, Roy and Ed would be there beside her as she did. None of them had hoped this day would come, but it did. Before the night was out, Nikki would learn the biggest fact they had been keeping from her: Her father, who had always cared deeply for Aideen, had made love to her mother that night, but her mother had not been willing.

It was a secret they could have done without telling the girl who was confident in the story the world knew, that two frightened teenagers had come together that night and created her. And now, they had to shatter the image of two young lovers for one of a villainess manipulating the affection Phillip had always held for his former girlfriend in order to create Nikki and break Aideen.

“So, have you finally decided on a major?” Ed asked, knowing fully well what her decision would be once she finally made it.

Nikki looked at him, smiling. “I have. I’m going to major in journalism, I’m going to proudly use the name I got from my father on every article I write, and I’m going to work to bring back what reporting really should be.”

“Well, sounds like you made up your mind on more than just a major,” the older man said, squeezing her shoulders.

“You don’t think people will be disappointed I’m not doing something with my alchemy?” she asked, playing with the solid white curl at the top of her head, a habit she’d had since childhood.

“Alchemy isn’t the only way to make a difference in the world, Nikki,” Ed said. “Words can be just as powerful sometimes.”

She smiled at him before kissing him on his cheek. “Thank you, Granddad.”