Housework

Man, you guys make ME cry, you're all so nice and supportive. Thank you very much. This is a slightly more depressing chapter, but it gets better, promise! There is a happy ending, I swear. And I considered going the Roy/Al route, but I started with Roy/Ed and I prefer for them to finish this one. Next time. Thanks for reading!

I love you

Two more weeks passed, the brothers pushing Roy to do things for himself; choose clothing, shower, go outside, anything, with few results. Usually, Ed could taunt him into doing things, like chasing him around the obstacle course, but it was stressful for all three and could end up in nightmares. Everyday, their hope died a bit more. This broken man who had returned might not be able to be fixed. Then, on the 22nd day since he had returned, Roy spoke.

He whispered of flames and ice, spikes and water drowning regiment after regiment. Screams of the injured, dying, insane, and the haunted. Staring into dazed eyes on the other side of the field, fighting because they were told to. Watching children die and their mothers go mad with grief. Of the red haze that covered everything until friends became foes and nothing mattered but death. The crackle of flames and the screams that meant they weren't burning fast enough. Rivers that sparkled choking on bodies and the red waters that overflowed the banks. Smoke that blinded and friends that went missing. The roar of alchemy, muted beneath the roar of guns. It was then that Ed and Al confirmed that none of the old crowd; Hawkeye, Falman, Havoc, Fuery, Maes, Breda, would be returning. They already suspected, knew, from the letters, but still. They had all gone missing somewhere on a red battlefield. None of the alchemists they knew would return; any that survived had retreated to sanctuaries of their own, just as Roy had.

There was nothing to do but cry and hold fast to this man who had survived for them, who had returned only for them. Then he began to speak again, of his old goal; to become Fuhror. His eyes became harder and his voice held the steel of old. He spoke of deposing the old Fuhror, who had allowed this war to happen. He spoke again of supporters and rambled about elections and ambitions. Ed and Al simply listened, allowing him to tell them anything, even when it made no sense.

The next day, Roy showered alone, but left the door open and talked to Ed. He dressed in his uniform and wore his modified gloves. Al put his regular gloves in a pocket, in case he should truly need them. They dressed formally and left for Headquarters, to speak to the generals who were left.

The generals were too busy deciding amongst themselves who should be the new Fuhror to see a lowly, upstart Colonel, and were shocked when the door opened, to show a pair of blonds, one in white, one in black, followed by said upstart Colonel. They were informed that Roy Mustang, Flame Alchemist, would be the new Fuhror and they would elect him within the week. Roy then marched back out, followed closely by the brothers.

The generals scoffed and continued their discussions. They didn't realize that the only ones who could have stopped Mustang were dead by their orders, sent to kill in a war they would never return from. They also didn't realize that Mustang had finally lost everything that held him back from his goal; respect for tradition and a sense of duty to the military. They had created the weapon they had dreamed of: efficient, deadly, unstoppable, and without mercy. The only problem was, they didn't control him.

They ignored him until public support became too much to ignore. Riots broke out, demanding change. And who better than a hero of not one, but TWO wars? They promoted him, two ranks to Major General, hoping to stave him off. Support grew. They told him to stop, and he replied “Make me.” while they stood by and watched him garner more support from all sides. They promoted him again, two more ranks to General, and support grew stronger. They even tried taking his 'sons'. That lasted an hour before they figured out the only things keeping him vaguely sane were those two boys.

He eliminated three groups of soldiers, further depleting an already weak garrison as he ravaged the city looking for them. He simply walked from building to building, destroying them and opponents as he passed. 60 soldiers, 10 officers, and 2 civilians ended up in the hospital for minor and major wounds; there were three fatalities, all soldiers who drew weapons on the Elric brothers. The young men were finally thrown in front of him as sacrifices, while the generals bolted for hiding places. Ed and Al stopped the destruction with soft words and tight arms. It was then, less that six months after his return to Central, that Roy Mustang proclaimed himself Fuhror by right of force.

All surviving soldiers were immediately invited to return to Central. Any who came were offered a choice; re-enlist and support the new Fuhror, a man whose goal in life was to prevent another war, or retire. Any who didn't come were retired and sent a pension. Almost all who came enlisted with the hope of providing a safe future and the belief that this man would lead them to it. The generals, who had commanded from Central, were demoted; many chose to leave entirely.

The State Alchemist ranks were opened and the first two in line were the blond Elrics. They passed the written exams in record time, answering the questions before they finished reading them. The physical was simple; show us what you can do. Al built a mansion, five feet tall at the peak and perfectly proportioned and detailed, including furniture and a small garden. He opted to use a simple drawn circle, choosing to hide his strength for the moment. He had learned, through years of study and practice, to clap but it was a backup, his secret weapon. Ed was not as subtle. He didn't bother with a circle, clapping his hands and placing them on the ground in front of him. A fountain of stone that used water and fire formed; the base was designed as a sideways city with water running through the streets and the top sported a delicate phoenix that burned steadily for over an hour before Ed deliberately put it out. The Fullmetal and White Rain Alchemists were accepted on the spot and proved key in encouraging civilian alchemists to apply.

Officers who commanded in the field were promoted and an elite group was chosen to be the Fuhror's inner staff. Al handled that, interviewing both applicants and soldiers under their command to determine the best support for their fragile commander. An even temperament was the main criteria, common sense, independence, courage. Roy needed to be surrounded by people who were able to stand up to him, but not be aggressive, and who would need him, but not put too much pressure on him to do everything. All told, it was a tall order, but it was filled quite adequately by the 4 men Al chose from the ranks.

Sandy Bishop, Colonel. A tall, slim man of about 35 with long black hair that he wore in a tight ponytail. He often wore glasses but took them off when others were around. He also handled almost all the paperwork of the office, only the most important items ended up on Roy's desk. His wife was a short blond with a bright smile and an extra cookie for everyone. She was a favorite of Ed's.

Cory Trait, Second Lieutenant. A muscular 23 year old, he moved quickly through the ranks on courage, perseverance, and loyalty. He also had a knack for mechanical things and an adorable daughter, four, who could tell you what was wrong with any machine by looking. Unfortunately, everything she touched blew up, so you had to watch out. She was often at the office with him, as her mother had been a casualty of the war.

Barny “BJ” Jorden, First Lieutenant. An older man who decided to stay on after his retirement offer, he was a confirmed bachelor who never lacked for dates. He often joked of forbidden fruit to the younger men when they moaned of not having a date. He was an excellent organizer, keeping the office moving smoothly and the paperwork done and filed on time.

Al's favorite, Ted Gard, was a young man who reminded him of Fuery, sweet, shy, and a model officer. Of course, that was until he got to know you, then he was most personable and had a wicked sense of humor. The young Second Lieutenant was a bit chubby, but an amazing marksman, rivaling even Hawkeye's scores at the shooting range. He wore four guns at any given time and treated them like children, petting and talking to them when he thought no one was listening.

A few other officers were chosen, but had little contact with the young Fuhror, spending their time doing office work and running errands. The entire office numbered only eight, ten including the Elrics. Al felt it was best to start with a small group, to allow Roy to get used to dealing people again.

He was still having difficulty when confronted with fear or aggression and could be unpredictable if Ed was not nearby. Which was such a rare problem, few people had even seen the Fuhror without his shadow; they were spoken of as one person. Al was busy, having taken over the State Alchemists, and was not available during the days, but Ed spent his time in the office with Mustang, reading and researching, keeping company, or walking, seeing to everyday duties, or even taunting him on the exercise field, dragging his lover over and around obstacles. When Al protested that this was undignified, Ed simply stated that when Roy could catch him, he could be as dignified as he wanted. Rumors flew, about both brothers, but really, who was there to tell the Fuhror he couldn't have anyone he wanted as a lover?


“Brother? Has Roy been more crabby that usual lately?” Al was making supper while Roy was in the shower. Ed was sprawled on the floor, eating a piece of bread to tide him over until meal time.

“A bit, I think he's tired. It's hard to be in charge of the entire country you know.” He grinned easily, “and that parliament system we're starting up isn't moving as smoothly as we thought. The cities are having trouble choosing representatives for themselves, never mind the area. It's gonna take longer than we thought. Maybe a couple of years, hopefully no longer.”

“Are you sure that's it? He seems almost distracted, he hasn't been eating much lately either. I'm a bit worried.” He was waved off by a limp hand.

“Don't fuss so much! He's fine, he's almost back to the way he was before, right? Everything is fine, just give him some more time.” He was right, of course. Roy had been steadily returning to the way he'd been before, as long as Ed was with him. There were still moments when he was a stranger, but they were fewer and fewer.

“Alright, alright. Anyways, dinner's ready, go call Roy will you?” Ed rolled over to the door and opened his mouth, “And don't just yell for him!” Gold eyes rolled and his brother shoved himself to his feet. Sigh. 'Why can't I have a brother with some manners?'

The next morning, Roy was particularly grumpy and stomped off to the office without even eating breakfast. Ed ran after him and waved for Al to come later. The two arrived and headed straight in to begin. Roy signed papers for a bit while Ed moped around on the couch, hungry and bored. He hadn't had time to grab a book and would have to wait for Al to bring him one. He started reading an old one from the bookshelf and soon lost himself in the arrays.

“I made you, didn't I?” Roy's voice penetrated his haze and he looked up to see his lover staring at him.

“What? No, Roy, my mom made me.” He grinned, teasing him. Maybe he wasn't in such a bad mood after all.

“No, I made you have sex with me. And stay with me, even when you don't want to.” Ed stood immediately and stalked around the desk. He yanked Roy's chair out from behind it and sat on his lap.

“Roy. Make me do something. Right now. Anything.” He planted his hands firmly on Roy's arms and held him down. The older man tried to lift his arms and couldn't budge them. Then, he tried to buck the blond off, again with no success. Ed grabbed the arms in his hands and pulled the man out of his chair. “Come here.”

He pulled them to th middle of the office and sat, dragging Roy down too. The younger man lay down, tugging his lover over him. “Go ahead, make me do something.” He gave him a few minutes to get organized and positioned, then bucked quickly, turning so Roy was on the bottom.

“Edward, I command you to get off of me.” Roy decided to try his voice, since he obviously couldn't win physically.

“No. I'm not your ward anymore, I don't have to listen to you.” A cocky grin spread.

“Fullmetal, I command you to get off of me.” Rank might do it.

“Nuh uh uh, no rank here, it's just you and me. No Fullmetal and no Fuhror.” He pressed a kiss to Roy's nose. “See? You can't make me do anything I don't want to. I stay with you because I want to, I spend my nights with you because I want to.” He rolled and they stood, Roy returning to his chair. Ed followed and settled in his lap.

Roy looked up at him. “Edward, do you love me?”

The blond stared down at him, “Roy, I, I,” His hands clenched tightly and his arms shook.

“Well? Do you?” Black eyes blazed up, focused on his lover.

“I, damn it Roy, why are you asking that?”

“Say it! Say you love me!” The smaller body shook and the shoulders slumped.

“Yes, Roy, I love you.” It was a hoarse whisper and he was so busy trying to hold back tears he didn't see the hand swinging towards him until it hit him. He fell back onto the floor.

“Get out, you're lying, get out.” Ed pressed a hand to his cheek and crawled forward to grab at his lover. The dark haired man kicked at him, forcing him to back away again. “Get out.”

“No, Roy, please...” The blond begged, trying to get close enough to grab his commander. Roy stood and advanced, forcing Ed to back away as he came. He drew his foot back to kick at him again and Ed tensed to take the blow. Before it hit, the door slammed open and there was a resounding SLAP.

“Roy Mustang, what the hell do you think you're doing? Sit down this instant.” A white coat brushed Ed's shoulders as his brother stood over him, his arm still extended.

“Al, no, it's not his fault. It' s mine, please, it's my fault.” Ed grabbed the hem of the coat, holding his brother back.

“Brother, I let you have your way and he's out of control. This is going to stop right now, before it starts. I don't care whose fault it is, there is no excuse for him to even think of hitting you. You've been loyal almost since we got here, you stood against our father for him.”

His brother cut him off, “No, no, it's my fault, he wanted me to say that I, that I, loved, him.” Ed struggled with the word, it was so damn hard to say.

“So? Tell him why you can't and he'll understand.” The look on his brother's face stopped him. “You said it. You said it and he didn't think you meant it, right” The white blond stomped over to Roy's chair and slapped him again. “You bastard! Why did you make him say it? He hasn't said that for almost five years and you made him say it.”

Roy pouted and rubbed his cheek, “It's not that big of a deal, he should just say it if he feels it. I say it.” Al's hand was back up, preparing to swing again when Ed's hand grasped it.

“No, Al, don't. Please. Just let it go, it's alright. It's not his fault, he just doesn't understand.” Al shook his head and yanked his hand free.

“No, it's not. Roy, you want to know why he won't say it? It's because hmmph” The older brother placed his hand over his mouth, muffling his words.

“Al, let it go. He doesn't need to know.”

“Either you tell him, right now, or I will.” A stubborn set was in the taller man's shoulders and his hands rested on his hips.

“Al...” The dark blond pleaded with his eyes but his brother was unmoved.

“Now.”

The shortest man's shoulders slumped and his head dropped to his chest. “When we were in Lior, they used to make me say it to them, while they were,” He paused, struggling for words, “doing me. If I didn't, they'd hit me and were more rough, so I just said it. After the first time, I told Al I wouldn't say it again, it makes me sick to say it. That's why I always just say thank you.” He glared at his brother, “Happy?” Tears started down his cheeks. 'Now he won't want me for sure. Who wants a lover who can't say three words?'

A scarred hand smoothed over his cheek, rubbing away the tears and the slight red mark. He looked up to see Roy leaning over him, tears running down his own cheeks. “I'm sorry, I don't know why I did that, I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I promise, I'll never do it again.” Ed wrapped his hands around his lover and snuggled his head against his chest. He reached out and took Al's hand to draw him in. The three hugged each other, listening to Roy tell them he loved them.