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Demon In the Design	By : antilogicgirl Category: Fullmetal Alchemist > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 1597 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Fullmetal Alchemist, or any of the characters therein, nor do I derive any monetary profit from the writing of this fiction.

Chapter List
- 2
- 3
- 4
A/N: And now for part three. I hope that I didn't alienate too many of you with the second part. There seemed to be several people that believe I've let Roy off too easily. While that might have seemed true last chapter, I assure you that Ed gives him hell the whole way now. And he isn't the only one. I also want to thank those of you that expressed deep interest in the story. It's great to see people getting so into it! Hope you all like this chapter, perhaps a bit more than the last one (I'm rather sheepish over it, actually). Apologies for how long this took, by the way. It went through 4 rounds of edits.
Warnings:
FL--Foul Language
S-ai--Mild Shounen-ai hints
Title: Demon In the Design (or… A Good Idea At the Time)
Series: Full Metal Alchemist
Pair: Roy/Ed
Begun: November 3, 2008
Complete:
Summary: Prank wars never end well. Design, Deception, Denial and Decision take Roy Mustang to an unexpected Destination.
III: Denial
It was ten o’clock in the morning, and Jean Havoc raised one eyebrow. The General stood in the doorway, his coat slung over his shoulders as usual, but unlike every other day, he held his right hand to his chest. There, peeking out from beneath his sleeve, was a pristine white cast. “Hey, General!” he heard Breda call from behind him, “What happened to your arm?”
Roy, who looked a little paler than usual, grunted in response. “I broke it doing something stupid. Let’s just leave it at that.” Havoc didn’t know what to make of that. He thought it might mean that Roy got into a bar fight or something, but didn’t get anywhere with the girl the fight started over. Sounded more like something he himself might do, but anything was possible.
He walked past them, and was nearly to his office door when Riza piped up, “The Major is already in your office, Sir. He’s been here since six this morning.” Roy turned, a look of disbelief on his face. He seemed to think for a long moment, and then nodded. Finally, their commanding officer went through the door, leaving them all wondering at what he was thinking.
Edward sat hunched over a fresh stack of papers, once more dressed in blue. The uniform was freshly washed and pressed, and Roy had to admit it looked much better now that it was neither soaked in water nor wrinkled as if it had been slept in for days. With the exception of the hair he still wore long, Ed looked every inch the military man. They had come to a tentative understanding at the hospital, but Roy didn’t know how happy he was about it. Ed would deal with Roy’s papers until a suitable replacement could be found, and Roy…he would keep their relationship on a strictly professional level. No, he didn’t like that at all.
“Morning, Ed.” He didn’t expect a reply, so he was unsurprised when no sound came from the young man in the corner. Taking off his coat, he hung it on a peg behind the door. When Roy approached the small desk, he took a better look at Ed. He narrowed his eyes slightly before saying, “Stand up, Major.” Narrow shoulders stiffened, but Ed did as he was ordered. He slid his chair backward, and got to his feet, stepping to the side of the desk. Back straight, eyes looking directly ahead of him, he affected a rigid stance and look of disenterest. But Roy knew better. “Did you sleep at all last night, Edward?”
“No, Sir.” There was absolutely no feeling in Ed’s voice; neither good nor bad, it was the epitome of neutrality.
Roy frowned, raising his good hand to scratch at the side of his head. “So, I’m back to being Sir, am I?” Ed said nothing. He pursed his lips for a moment. “A man that has had the privilege of breaking my bones also has the right to call me by my given name. It is much better than my rank.”
Ed’s voice was still bland when he replied, “It goes against protocol to refer to one’s commanding officer in any way that is familiar. If you please, General, I have to get these papers ready for you to sign, since you cannot fill them out on your own.”
A small spark of what might be frustration ignited in Roy’s head. “Very well, Major. Carry on.” He watched Ed go back to work and sighed. It was going to be a long day. Because he was not yet ready to sign anything, he picked up the phone. After dialing the number for the maintenance division, he waited for the operator. When the woman came onto the line, he was directed to a young Lieutenant, who was apparently in charge of all requests for building repairs. “Lieutenant Mason, this is General Mustang. I wonder how things are going with the repairs on Major Elric’s office?”
Ed’s hand slowed. What was Roy playing at? He supposed that he wanted to be away from Ed now…When the older man’s voice rose in irritation, Ed nearly flinched. “I don’t care what you think Lieutenant. The Major has more important things to do than sit on his hands while you all scratch your heads. Fix it. You’ve got one week.” The sound of the phone being slammed down into its cradle made him jump, if only a little. “Idiot…” Roy growled, and Ed glanced at him from the corner of his eye. There was a crease between his eyebrows, and his good hand was rubbing at one of his temples. Hangover? Ed stifled a grin. That would be good, but it was impossible. He was pretty sure that Roy could drink him under the table any day. In fact, Ed knew he could. Any more of that stuff the previous night, and it would have been him with the hangover.
So he was pretty sure Roy hadn’t slept, either. He had refused when the doctor offered him pain medication and because of that, his hand probably kept him up most of the night. He fell back into his work, ignoring any other sounds in the room, and time began to pass in a blur. By noon, he had finished most of the papers, and every so often, Roy would peel off a twenty-sheet stack from the top of his pile. In this way, they passed the time, until Ed realized that he was alone in the office, right around half past one. The room was strangely quiet, and seemed very empty. He supposed it was only natural, but then again, it was not.
He found it rather frightening how quickly he’d grown used to Roy’s presence. Ed had somehow gotten used to seeing him in the corner of his vision; and the way he would catch black eyes watching him curiously. That somewhat heavy, oft-times oppressive feeling at the edge of his consciousness had become familiar, even necessary…though at the moment he wanted nothing to do with the Flame Alchemist.
Looking over at that large leather chair, he remembered how small Roy had looked while seated there yesterday, how vulnerable. Was it impossible , unthinkable that any of it had been true? Roy wasn’t dying, but what about all the rest of it? Had the entire day been a lie? Ed rubbed his forehead. He really should have tried to sleep last night. But they’d gotten out of the hospital so late, it wasn’t even worth it. So he had gotten home just in time to grab breakfast and explain to Al what had happened. His younger brother had been outraged, of course, but had refrained from leaving the apartment to murder Roy only because Ed had just taken him to the hospital. It would probably be a couple of days yet before the younger Elric imposed his formidable powers of persuasion on General Mustang. Al had quickly readied his spare uniform, which Ed thought would reinforce the idea that he was Roy’s subordinate officer, and nothing more.
Now, he felt sort of empty. Or, perhaps he was just emotionally spent. Ed leaned on his hand, closing his eyes for a minute. He felt so tired…and he’d almost been here long enough to say that he’d worked a full day. But he knew that everyone else was too busy to come in here and fill out Roy’s papers. Riza was too busy screening the paperwork, Havoc was dealing with minor issues that didn’t need to go through Roy. Breda was looking over legal papers with Fuery, and a couple of privates were acting as couriers. So it was up to him to get the office through the day. That thought made him feel even more tired. So…tired…
Roy opened the door to his office, adjusting the paper sack under his arm. He slipped inside, and was about to tell Ed about what was inside his bag when he stopped short. The younger man was still seated at the small desk, but he was leaning on his hand, apparently asleep. He leaned on his hand, eyes closed and looking quite peaceful. Roy smiled a little. As quietly as possible, he walked over to his desk and set down the bag. He then unrolled the top of the brown bag and removed half of its contents. These, he placed on the front edge of Ed’s desk, before moving back to his chair and sitting down loudly. Ed jumped, and gave a strange half-snore-half cough. “Wha—“
Roy smiled slightly. “Sleeping on the job, Major?” He was rewarded by a dark scowl from Ed, only to see that same expression replaced by one of confusion when the younger man’s eyes strayed to the foreign objects in front of him. Nimble fingers pried the lid from the small bowl, which contained a beef stew that Roy felt was particularly nice. He had a similar bowl, himself. A sandwich came next, wrapped in waxed paper, which was as near to the one Ed had been eating the previous day as Roy could remember. Ham, dark green lettuce, mustard, a thick slice of tomato, and a bit of cheese were all he could really recall. He had wanted to make up for the fact that he interrupted the younger man’s lunch to lay down what proved to be the most vicious lie that had ever popped out of his mouth. Ed looked at these things in a rather skeptical manner before he opened the final container.
A reverent moan escaped the younger man, and he immediately began to drink the contents. “Oh, God that’s good…” Roy actually let out a small laugh at that, causing Ed to shoot him a glare. “What?” He growled in an accusatory tone, “I haven’t had any coffee today.”
“Addict.” Roy teased, feeling his smile widen to a grin.
One thin, blonde eyebrow rose, indicating Edward’s dislike for the conversation. He did, however, reply. “Takes one to know one, Sir.” Silence fell, and for a moment, Roy thought it might be a smidgeon companionable. Then, Ed added, “Don’t think that this puts you on my good side.” Roy knew better than to expect that. Nothing was easy with Ed. And if he wanted that nice feeling he’d had the day before, he would have to work a lot harder than a single bought lunch. That much was apparent and expected.
His smile took on a wry quality as he said softly, “Oh, the door to the doghouse is a long way off. I know.”
It was ten thirty in the morning and even with his overcoat on, the hallway was freezing. Ed shuffled down the corridor, hugging his dark wool coat around himself. Why in the world was the furnace broken on a day like this? Only one more turn, and he would make it to his office. Not that it would be any warmer in there, but at least it was fixed now. The place was about the size of a broom-closet, and the bathroom was even smaller, so maybe after he’d been there for a while, it would start to warm up. Body heat displacement tended to fill up a room when it was small. When he rounded the corner, he stopped, and then retreated back a few paces to peer around the edge of the wall. Roy was knocking at his door.
Damn but that man was persistent. He didn’t take subtle hints, or even obvious ones. Ed had informed him flat-out that he didn’t want to be friends with him. Hell, he didn’t want anything from him. “Who are you spying on?” Ed jumped nearly an entire foot off of the floor, and whirled around in mid-air, only to find Riza standing behind him, her arms crossed under her breasts and looking as if she had caught him with his hand in the proverbial cookie-jar. He gaped at her, his mouth opening and closing like that of a fish for nearly ten seconds. When she obviously became impatient, she leaned past him and looked around the corner herself.
Sighing heavily, she straightened. “You’re being ridiculous, Edward.” She wouldn’t say that if she knew what he did, Ed thought. “How long are you going to avoid him?”
“As long as it takes for him to stop pestering me.” He grumped, and walked away, leaving her standing in confusion. It was time to bite the bullet, so to speak. Rounding the corner once again, he strode purposefully to his office door. Roy smiled, trying to seem as friendly as possible while also being huddled in on himself for warmth. “What is it I can do for you, today, Sir?” Roy said nothing, but only waited for Ed to pull the key from his pocket and unlock the door. The lock sprung with a click, and he turned the knob, pulling the door outward. This only served to reinforce his idea that his office had been a closet. Only the closets had doors that opened out. Ed would have closed the door, but Roy wedged himself in behind him. “Sure. Come right on in.” He knew his voice was sarcastic, but it was really all he could do to keep from screaming.
Roy just wouldn’t let up. After they’d gotten his office repaired, and he was re-installed there, Roy made twice—and sometimes thrice—daily trips down the stairs and through the winding halls to see him. Usually, it was just an excuse to shirk paperwork. Sometimes it was on official business. Other times, he would just barge in unannounced with a stupid comment that could have been easier delivered via the telephone. What would it be today? Honestly, Ed did not have time to get into a stupid argument over semantics, alchemy, or the color of the sky outside of his nonexistent window. There was work to be done.
He shoved himself past books that were piled in the tiny entryway, and squeezed toward his desk. As he sat in his chair, he pulled the string overhead for the light. The small fixture gave the room little light, which was why he also flipped on the desk lamp. Provided with a moderate amount of illumination, he could easily see how awkward it was for someone Roy’s size to be in such a small space. After nearly overturning a pile of papers, Roy plunked down on the little stool that was the only other seating in the room. He was shivering. “Cold as a witch’s tit,” he grumbled, shoving his hands under his arms.
“Sir,” Ed began, but Roy quickly cut him off.
“Ed, for the last time, if you don’t call me by my name—at least when we’re alone—I’m going to have to kick your sorry ass.” He looked as if he might actually mean it, but Ed snorted.
“That would mean you’d need the use of both your hands, Sir.” It was actually rather fun watching how his commanding officer was slowly unraveling at the edges. Havoc said that Riza had threatened him on several occasions, and he had also mentioned something about a visit from Al that left Roy rather pale and silent for an entire day. His brother was mum on the subject, but it was apparent that Roy was in imminent peril, and he knew it. “I have research to do, so if you don’t mind…”
Roy slumped in his seat, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his knees. “Goddamn it, you pig-headed son of a bitch...” Ed blinked, startled by the profanity. He’d never heard Roy so much as slip up in his grammar, and now he was letting out strings of profanity that Envy would have been proud of. “I’m trying, you know.”
Ed’s lips compressed as he stared at Roy, who was looking rather pitiful and angry at the same time. “You should stop, then. Nothing you do is going to make me like you any better than I do now.” He’d tried everything. Food, a few books, asking him questions on alchemy issues that he wasn’t sure on…none of them moved him. He wasn’t some damned woman to be bribed, and the sooner Roy figured that out, the sooner he’d leave him the hell alone.
“Then how do I make it out of the doghouse, if not by bribery?” Ed’s eyes widened in surprise until he realized he’d spoken aloud. Another bit of insight hit him with the force of a freight train, and it did not sit well with him at all. They sounded like…he looked at Roy, examining the man’s face. There was something odd in his eyes, but Ed really couldn’t say he knew what it was. If were able, he would have backed away from him. But since the room was rather small, and his back was already against a wall, Ed settled for crossing his arms over his chest.
Roy had had it. Yes, he could admit that he’d been an idiot, a heel, a completely and utterly despicable human being. But hadn’t he learned his lesson? He’d done nothing but be nice to Ed for the past three weeks, and yet all he got in return was this? Not that he’d expected it to be easy, but this was absolutely infantile. Now, Ed was looking at him as if he’d grown an extra head. If nothing could ever change, then why was he even doing this? “Fine, Ed. You want to be a pissy little brat…then I’ll let you.” He stood up and pulled his coat tighter around himself so that he wouldn’t upset any of Edward’s books. “But let me just say this before I leave, okay?”
The crease between Ed’s eyebrows deepened. “Speak, and be done with it.”
Roy swallowed. How was he supposed to say it? He had phrased similar statements in several different ways, but this wasn’t exactly the same thing. If he told him the truth, the full truth, would he flip his lid and break more bones? It was simply a chance he was going to have to take, since he wasn’t exactly in a space that would allow him to defend himself, and deception was not in the option list. “I miss having you around.”
Ed sat motionless as Roy turned to exit the tiny office, as if he’d been flash-frozen. Roy felt strange, as if his face was on fire, and yet the rest of him was like a block of ice. He turned the knob on the door and flung it open, only to have it stop. When he pushed his head out of the crack, he found a very guilty-looking Jean Havoc staring back at him. “General…I can—“
In a tight, monotonic voice, Roy cut him off. “Explanations are not only unnecessary, but they are also unwanted. Please move, before I decide to incinerate the hallway.” The eavesdropper backpedaled quickly, and Roy walked calmly back to the stairs. He’d said it, and it left this…odd feeling in his stomach. He wasn’t sure about it. Yes, he missed having Edward around. And it wasn’t just the arguments, or the way he was so efficient with whatever paperwork he might be assigned. Over the past three weeks, with Ed avoiding the hell out of him, he’d realized how much he looked forward to their little clashes. Maybe he thrived on conflict. Maybe, he liked a challenge. Or maybe he hated how empty his office felt when the door wasn’t being slammed open, with Edward framed in the doorway.
Up the single flight of stairs, he thought about what the hell that might mean. He knew that he’d been having a pretty rough few years—they all had—but was he so hopeless that he needed to go chasing after someone that hated him, just to have a friendly talk? Would that ever be possible again? When he reached the door to the office, he put his good hand on the knob. Roy did not feel like going back to work. In fact, he felt a lot like not doing anything for the rest of the day. Therefore, he turned on his heel and went right back down the stairs. He made his way through the small service hallways to the motor pool and got in his car. The only decision left to make was whether he would go home, or to the bar.
Stunned, and completely without speech, Ed stared at the empty doorway. Had he really just…the room began to feel warm, and Ed pulled off his coat. He glanced at the two-foot-thick stack of books on his desk. The new research he was doing was necessary, and those books had some great information on partial biological transmutation. It wasn’t something that could re-attach and reanimate dead tissues, but if it went as he theorized, this sort of thing might actually be able to produce a new limb for amputees. Poor Winry, he thought, she’ll lose customers.
But his research suddenly took a back seat when he recalled the way Roy’s face had begun to look rather red. He was blushing? Or was he just trying to hold in his laughter? If he was being screwed with again, he was going to personally make sure that Roy Mustang needed an entire body cast. But what if he wasn’t? What if he…meant what he said? Ed began to doubt himself. Though he was far from rationalizing excuses for what Roy had done, he was starting to wonder.
I didn’t mean it…
Roy’s words came back to him, slithering in like traitorous snakes. They clamped down on his resolve, and began to squeeze.
I thought you were stronger than that…
Had he overreacted? No. That was not even a question. Ed had been completely justified in breaking bones. Roy had even said so. That’s another thing, he thought, a puzzled expression coming over his face, I’d never have guessed he would say he deserved it. It was true. Ed had always thought Roy was the most self-centered human being on the planet, with the possible exception of Dante. He looked at the books again, wishing he could concentrate long enough to perhaps read one. But as fate would have it, Ed was completely unable to fix his mind on anything that did not involve what had happened less than five minutes prior.
Jean Havoc leaned back in his chair, squinting at another form. He was going to go blind at this rate. “Havoc,” he heard from about ten feet away. Looking up, he saw Ed. The young man looked annoyed and embarrassed. He had his hands stuffed into the pockets of his overcoat, on account of the still-freezing temperatures inside the building. “Is the General in?”
Havoc’s mouth opened, but he was cut off by Riza. “I followed him as far as the motor pool. He left and didn’t tell anyone where he was going.” His head jerked to the right and up. She looked down at him coolly, as if it were completely normal for her to tail their commanding officer. Well, now that I think about it, he probably needs to be followed half of the time. As long as they didn’t have to get him out of city lockup again, everything should be fine. After all, he still hadn’t paid Fuery back for his bail from last time.
Ed stood on a freezing street corner. Ten minutes ago, he had passed a shop with an alcohol thermometer out front. The damned thing had read 15°F. Since ten forty-five in the morning, he had been pounding the pavement, looking for Roy, and right now, Ed was ready to rip the man limb from limb. A small voice in the back of his head told him that he’d have to find the bastard before he could do any such thing. First, he’d walked three miles to Roy’s house. Ed had broken in, so he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was not home. When he called the office, Havoc had suggested checking bars.
So since 11:30 am, Ed had been leading winding trails through streets between Headquarters and the neighborhood that Roy lived in, with no success. In a few places, they said that they knew who Roy was, but that he had not been in for weeks. The further from Roy’s house he got, the less luck he had. If he had thought that there was anything else he might be able to concentrate on right now, Ed would most certainly be doing that, even if it was giving Al a haircut. Roy Mustang had driven him to distraction, almost literally. He was three blocks from Headquarters, and there was only one bar left. He glanced at the clock in the book shop across the street, just as the street light changed to ‘walk’. It was now 2:21 pm.
If Roy wasn’t dead, he would be soon, because Ed was tired, cold, and cranky, not to mention that he hadn’t eaten since that one boiled egg for breakfast. He stepped out into the crosswalk, and started across the street. This was turning out to be one shitty day. When he made it to the opposite curb, Ed was sure he felt the beginnings of snow. “Perfect. Just perfect.” Halfway down the next block, it began to snow in earnest, with fat flakes sticking to every surface. Now he wished he’d worn that stupid uniform hat. His hair was going to be soaked, and he’d get sick, and then Al would fuss, like an old mother hen. The crease between his eyebrows grew as his mood slipped into new depths.
He turned the corner, and saw the place. The bricks of the five-story building were discolored with age, and only the bottom floor looked as if it were occupied. A large plate-glass window showed the bar-room. It was too far away to get a good look at the place, but Ed decided he was going to go in anyway. Even if it were deserted, they would at least have something to warm his insides.
Marvin Gerard Carson looked down to the end of the bar. He got military personnel in his place of business pretty regularly, but it was usually the lower-ranked officers and enlisted men. As he looked at his one and only patron, he took in the rank once again. This guy was a General. And when he took off his overcoat, Marvin caught a glimpse of watch chain, marking the General as a State Alchemist, as well. Officers like him usually frequented the posh establishments that were further downtown. But he wasn’t going to complain. The man had been nursing drinks since right around half-past ten, and he didn’t drink cheap stuff.
The little bell above the door gave its familiar chime, and he looked over to see what other sad soul decided to come in before it was rightfully quitting time. This new arrival looked to be about five feet and seven inches tall, and appeared to be female. She looked as if she were freezing to death, from what Marvin saw. Snow dusted the shoulders of a dark brown wool overcoat, which white-gloved hands quickly brushed away. She gathered a thick braid over her shoulder and let it out, shaking snow from hair the color of hammered gold. If I were twenty years younger…He thought wistfully.
A choking noise came from the end of the bar, and Marvin looked back to his General. Slack-jawed, he was staring at the woman that had just walked in. Not that it was difficult to do. She was quite the looker. Giving a little chuckle, Marvin turned back to the woman that had just walked in, intent on greeting her as he always did to new customers. His voice came out in a sound that closely resembled the noise the General made. That’s no woman…
The new arrival had just unbuttoned that dark coat, and was now slipping it off. Not only was she not a she, but ‘she’ was also a Major. And I’ll be damned, but another alchemist. Now that he looked at him, the guy couldn’t be more than twenty-two, and seemed a little short. The kid walked directly up to the bar. After pulling a few bills out, he slapped them down on the counter and said, “A double of whatever best takes the edge off this chill.” Marvin nodded, moving to pour a double of brandy. When he set it down in front of the kid, he was told to keep the change. Looking down, he noticed that there was enough money sitting on his bar to buy everything behind it. “For just in case.”
Before he could ask what the kid meant, he found out. Brandy in hand, the blond man walked up to where the General sat.
Roy watched in horrified fascination as Ed approached. Nose and cheeks a dark pink, he looked as if he’d spent hours in the cold. It was good then, Roy supposed, that the younger man was having a drink. Ed also looked less than happy. His hair was loose, since he’d just shaken the snow out of it, and he had his coat over one arm. “General Mustang,” he began, but stopped. Taking a moment to sip at his brandy, Ed fixed those strangely-colored eyes on him. He cleared his throat. “Roy.” It was odd hearing his name come out of Ed’s mouth now. He simply sat staring for another few seconds, causing Ed’s irritation to rise further. “Are you deaf? Or stupid?”
Though he opened his mouth, one fractional rise in Ed’s right eyebrow stopped any reply he might have made. Roy wasn’t altogether sure that he could have spoken coherently, even if he tried. His mind was pretty muddled by all of the Scotch he’d been drinking. All he really knew was that Ed was looking at him in a way that did not bode well. “Why don’t we go sit in that booth over there?” The younger man asked suddenly, pointing at the rear-most of the seating areas. “It’ll be more comfortable than letting our butts go numb on bar stools. Before he turned to walk away, he looked at the bartender while raising his glass. “I’ll do this again as soon as I’m done.”
Ed walked slowly to the back of the bar, sipping his drink the whole way, and Roy had to wonder at the kid’s motive for following him here. Speaking of which, how had he found him? This was far from being one of his habitual watering holes, so he’d thought that no one would find him here. It was sort of like hiding in plain sight, since Headquarters was less than two blocks away, but it was also a relatively safe gamble. Or at least that’s what Roy thought. What he had not taken into account was that if Ed wanted to bust his chops for anything, he would find him no matter where he hid.
Sliding off of the stool so that he could follow Ed proved to be a bit more difficult than he had anticipated. Since he had not moved from his spot at the bar for a few hours, Roy felt the full force of all of the alcohol he’d consumed. One hand gripped the bar to steady himself, while the other held his drink. Glancing toward the back of the bar, he saw that Ed was already seated and watching him calmly. While he was grateful for the lack of laughter, he was sure it would have been nicer if he could have helped out a bit. But as it was, Roy eventually wobbled his way back to the booth in question, seeing upon arrival that Ed looked rather amused.
He slumped into the booth, plunking his drink down on the table. “So, what’s got your panties in a wad, Edward?”
The corners of Ed’s mouth turned down. He wasn’t happy with Roy, it appeared. When was he ever happy where his commanding officer was concerned? Roy was pretty sure that the only emotion he held toward him—except maybe annoyance—was anger. And one couldn’t very well be happy if he was angry. In any event, he waited for the axe to fall. “I think we need to talk, Roy.”
There it goes…
Or maybe it was more of a guillotine?
A/N: Review.
A note on canon and accuracy: I'm not exactly sure what it was that Trisha Elric died of. Though I've seen the Anime, I have only gotten through 1 volume of the Manga, so if there's any detail that I've missed on that account, please forgive me. For the purposes of this story, Trisha died of cancer. Also, where age is concerned, I'm basing age off of Edward, who is 20. All other ages should be adjusted accordingly in your minds, to avoid that increasingly pesky confusion over child pron.
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Demon In the Design