A Cost Too High

Chapter Six:

That eye, that terrible eye that betrayed what the creature was… it laughed at him from the flames. No matter how hard he fought, no matter how many times he burned him Bradley kept getting up, kept moving toward him, charred, smoking, sizzling skin and all, even as he healed. He just wouldn’t die. Always chasing him and out of nowhere there would be Maes’s dead body, there would be Bradley’s son’s body and always Roy would trip over them and fall…

“General! ... Roy Mustang wake up!” It was just like before, he could hear Riza but not see her and she too would die if he didn’t destroy Bradley.

“Damn it, Roy, you’re going to scare Edward! Wake up!” She demanded.

Scare Edward? Scaring the young man would be better than watching him die at the hands of Bradley for something he didn’t do! Bradley would kill both of the Elric’s, shame their name in mud and who knew what else if he didn’t kill Bradley. If he could just get the upper hand!

Had Edward been asleep, he wouldn’t have been for very long. He’d been lying in bed, covering his face with a pillow trying to block out the images of blood and maybe even trying to suffocate himself, when he’d heard the first of many screams. Chills ran down his spine and he flung the pillow aside.

Hopping quickly to his feet he took a defensive stance, his gold eyes darting this way and that. It was such a horrid sound, the screams and shouts, and he was terrified to see what was causing such turmoil, yet at the same time he somehow knew it was Roy making those noises and after everything the General had done for him, he couldn’t just ignore this.

Moving cautiously from his room, he made his way down the hall, closer and closer to Roy’s bedroom. When he reached the doorway, he paused and just stood there watching. His arms wrapped around his middle and his brow furrowed. It was hard to watch. The general was asleep it seemed, his voice, deep and yet shallow in anxiety and fear called out in pain, grunted as an imaginary adversary attacked him. His entire body was engaged in battle and his hand was thrust out before him, fingers snapping over and over. If it hadn’t been for Riza leaning over the bed trying to wake the frantic Flame Alchemist, Ed would have assumed that there really was someone in the room, that there really was an unseen enemy tormenting Roy, for everything about the man spoke of intensity. Part of Ed wanted to pull Riza back and just let the General fight. Maybe he’d win and it would all be over.

Just then Riza did leave the man be. “Damn it.” She cursed under her breath as she stood up. Before she could dart out of the room, on whatever errand she had in mind, Edward stepped away from the door and flattened himself against the wall. Presently the blond Lieutenant darted from the room heading toward the kitchen. She was probably going to get some cold water for the General, or perhaps some type of medicine to calm him down.

When she was out of sight, Edward moved into the man’s room. Roy was breathing fast and his brow was dotted in sweat. This couldn’t be good for his injuries.

“General.” Ed said and stood near the bed. “Hey,” he tried to keep his voice low yet firm, “knock it off, Roy. You’re gonna hurt yourself.” With intensity in his gaze, Edward reached both his hands forward and clasped the General’s face. Leaning over him, Ed looked down at the man, his hair escaping from the loose ponytail he’d put it in after his bath that night. Stray blond locks dangled down about his cheeks and chin as he said in a calm, though intense, voice, “Look at me. Look at me, Roy. You got one eye, don’t you? Well use it. Wake up and look at me.”

Roy recognized that voice and in his dream Edward materialized between himself and the Fuhrer. He reached for Edward, grabbing his shirt and tried to pull him back, “Stay out of the way! He’ll kill you! I can’t lose you too.” He snapped again and in his dream despite Ed telling him to wake up, he tugged and Ed wouldn’t move no matter what and Bradley laughed, heading right toward the blonde alchemist, sword posed for the kill.

“Damn it, Ed!” He screamed yanking the young man as hard as he could. Pain shot through his shoulder and he cried out.

What the hell was the General talking about?! What did he mean by ‘He’ll kill you’ and even more bizarre, what did Roy mean when he said, ‘I can’t lose you, too’? But Edward really didn’t have time to ponder any of this as he was suddenly yanked protectively downward until his face was buried into the man’s chest. He turned his head just a bit so that he could find a comfortable position while being held within the frantic death grip. Ed grunted in dissatisfaction but couldn’t think of anything to say. It was actually quite heartbreaking to see this man in such a frenzied state, to feel the intensity of his nightmare.

Roy’s heart was beating so fast that it was almost like a vibration against Edward’s face. Lying there, literally now ‘in’ the General’s bed, he listened as the man persisted snapping his fingers in defense while he continued to cry out in pain. Frowning, Ed realized who the General was fighting now; the Fuhrer.

“Roy…” he started and then reached his hand up to grab the Flame Alchemist’s hand once again, but this time he gripped it with resolution and pulled it downward, pressing it against his own face. “Stop fighting with someone who’s already dead! He’s gone, but I’m right here, damn it! If you don’t want to lose me, then wake up…” he frowned as he said this last bit and his anger diminished into sorrow.

Solid weight and the nearness of Edward’s words, the context… and the pain in his shoulder pulled Roy from the dream. The room was dark save for the light filtering in from the kitchen. All was quiet except the noise Hawkeye was making in the yonder room, his panting, and Ed’s ragged breaths.

Roy blinked a moment then slowly eased his grip on the young man. How did… why was… Edward in here? His eye closed and he sighed heavily, letting him go. “I’m sorry.” It was all he could think to say through the building embarrassment and shame.

Riza returned with a wash cloth, a glass of water, and a pill bottle. She paused in the door examining the situation. Then she moved forward and stopped again. “You’ve torn some stitches, Edward could you get the peroxide and bandages from the bathroom cabinet please?”

“S-sure,” he said and then slipped gently away from the man’s bed. It felt really strange, everything that had just happened. Roy had held onto him so tightly. Even though he didn’t feel it right then, thinking back on the moment when the man clutched onto him so fiercely and protectively, it was kind of… dare he even think it?... sweet, in a way. But why should something like that surprise Edward when earlier that very day the man had told him that he was protective of his own. Ed was one of Mustang’s men; that was all.

Moving cautiously in the dark, favoring his right leg and feeling as if his left one was dead weight, he came upon the bathroom. He flicked on the light and saw himself staring back in the mirror. Blinking at the image of the tussled-haired boy, he growled at himself, thoroughly embarrassed by the fact that his cheeks were a deep scarlet.

With a sigh he splashed water on his face and dried off with a hand towel, then grabbed the peroxide and bandages. As he returned to the General’s room, he wondered what it was that finally woke the man. It would be useful to know so that Edward could skip straight to that next time, rather than being dragged into the man’s bed with him and then crushed into him.

Roy hissed as Riza opened his pajama shirt and pulled his arm free of the sweat soaked sleeve. Even she didn’t know how Edward had come to be in his bed but they had both speculated that his nightmare, which he didn’t want to discuss, was what had brought the young blonde alchemist from his room.

“You are going to have to confide in someone sometime soon, Roy.” Riza said softly yet sternly, “It’s bad when I can’t wake you from your nightmares. And what of Edward? He might have been trying to wake you because he was scared for you. He’s in a delicate place himself and he needs to have strong ground to stand on so he can get back on his feet.”

Roy cast his eyes to his lap, “I know… I know.” But what else was he to say. He knew. He knew he had to be strong and firm for Edward but he felt weak and after the dream… weaker and more helpless than before… And Ed had seen. It was then that he sensed Ed’s presence and he looked up.

“Sorry… Ed, you should go back to bed, I’ll be fine now and you need your sleep… And Ed, thanks.”

Stunned and speechless, Ed handed the first aid supplies off to Hawkeye and then stared at the man for a moment. Roy’s hair was matted and flat against his brow. He looked exhausted.

“Sure.” He finally muttered and then shuffled awkwardly down the hallway. He entered his room and grabbed a cigarette. Plopping down on his bed he popped the cig in his mouth and just sat there. He’d said sure to the man’s thank you, only he really didn’t have a clue why the man should thank him. All Edward had managed to do was make an already intense situation that much worse. His foolishness had caused the man to lash out and clutch onto him and that action caused his stitches to rip. In all honesty, Ed should be apologizing not getting thanked. And what did the General mean, ‘I can’t lose you, too.’ It was simple really; it meant he was sick and tired of losing those who were close to him. So then did that mean Ed was close to the man?

Did an endless tirade of short jokes and intermittent lectures using the ‘Dad’ voice constitute closeness? Is that how the General perceived them to be? And what did that matter anyway? Edward wanted to go back into the General’s room and tell him something that he probably shouldn’t, but everything was different now, everything had changed and Ed felt tight lipped and yet lacking all inhibitions at the same time.

“Damn it.” He finally bit in frustration and lit up his cigarette. He didn’t care. None of this mattered. In a mere moment he’d sucked the cigarette down to the filter and still he stayed sitting there. He was suddenly very afraid to sleep.

He was alone now. So utterly alone. The lights were off and the door was shut and he felt cold. “Al.” He said in a tentative voice.

“A-Alphonse…” he called softly, wishing that somehow, his brother would reply. Even if his voice carried with it the metallic ring, the tell-tale sound of the armor, Ed would be satisfied and that’s perhaps what hurt the most. Edward was so horribly selfish. He wanted Al back and he was willing to put him back in armor to get what he wanted.

“I’m sorry,” He whispered. “I’m not a very g-good big brother.” He chewed the inside of his cheek. For several minutes he sat there trying to piece together what had happened and feeling angry at himself for not being able to see it, to remember it.

An hour passed and he started to hate himself. That’s when he left the room. He was silent as he walked down the hallway. It was dark, and even when he passed Mustang’s room there was only a small lantern casting light. Ed paused in the doorway and looked in on the man. From what he could tell, the General was sleeping soundly and there was no sign of Hawkeye. She must have gone to bed after Roy fell asleep.

Nervously Edward entered. He couldn’t tell the man when he was awake but if the General was sleeping, truly sleeping, then Edward could at least ease his conscience in this one little thing. Coming to stand beside the General he looked down and was taken aback by how calm he looked now compared to earlier. Probably a result of the pills.

“S-sir….?” Ed spoke and then ground his teeth, “I mean… Roy. There’s something I want to tell you. Al would have wanted me to say it, so… W-we never really told you how much you meant to us. And… you really do mean something; I guess that’s why I tried and failed to help tonight when I saw you fighting in your sleep.” He swallowed and cleared his throat, “You intimidate me.”

After a short pause he continued, “You really intimidate me. But I’m not afraid of you. I’ve never been afraid of you, which is kind of weird, considering. Uh, I guess… even though Al and I had our goals… I still just wanted to do a good job for you. I missed that feeling, you know, feeling like I had to own up to someone, feeling like what I did mattered and not just to me and to Al. It was nice…”

He chewed his cheek and finished, “Anyway, that’s all I wanted to say. That and, thank you, for trying to take care of me, when I’m like this. I don’t think I could handle Risembool right now. I’m too damn chicken to even think about calling Winry. And I’m sort of lost.” Sighing he backed a few steps from the bed, “I’m gonna go now. I know you’re asleep but, thanks for listening.”

But the General hadn’t been sleeping, just pretending, pretending so Hawkeye would leave him alone and get some rest herself. She’d given him medication sure enough but this prescription either wasn’t as strong as what he was given in the hospital or he was becoming a little immune. Or perhaps it was that his own terror and fear of sleep was waging war against the drugs… Either way he knew he would lose eventually to the pills.

Then Edward had come creeping in like a timid child and bared his soul and he couldn’t help but fight to stay awake to listen. The words the young alchemist spoke filled him with more pain than that of his wounds but it was a cathartic sort. Maybe he hadn’t known it before or maybe he had and just didn’t pay attention what with other things pressing his mind, but he loved the Elrics. It could only be love… True he’d been intrigued and seen opportunity, even pitied and sympathized with them at first but over time… All of that turned into something more and hearing Edward’s quiet admissions, the soft thank you… It meant more to Roy than he could have ever imagined and yet he didn’t want to be thanked.

Roy wet his lips and a smile quirked his lips, “You’re welcome, Ed.” He knew Edward was about to snap, it was only Edward Elric fashion to do so when caught by surprise, but before he’d let that happen, he turned his face to try and see the young man and said, “And thank you for helping me all these years and opening my eyes to the truth.”

His eyes were wide with shock at hearing the man’s voice when there ought not to be any sound. He gasped as he turned his head to regard the General, but any further commentary or noises were halted as the man thanked him rather sincerely. Why in the world would the man thank him? As far as Edward was concerned, it was his fault that so much bad had happened in such a short time. It was Edward’s fault that Al was gone; Ed’s fault that Hughes had died; Ed’s fault that the General had lost his eye.

Edward let out an inadvertent huff as he folded his arms over his chest. “You’re kind of a bastard, you know that?!” He chided but not too loudly as he didn’t want ‘Mamma’ Hawkeye to rush in there. “You really know how to piss me off. I didn’t want you to actually hear those things, Roy. Those were private!”

But that wasn’t the truth and he knew this even as he stared down at the floor, stray strands of hair falling down around his face, that he was actually quite relieved that the man was awake.

“So…” he swallowed the strange lump in his throat, “now that you have something amusing to occupy yourself with, I sh-should say goodnight… you should sleep.” But couldn’t bring himself to move. Instead he stayed right where he was, his arms starting to tremble.

“Unless you’re afraid to sleep. I could stay in here for a little bit… if you’re scared.” He shrugged and looked toward to the door just so the General wouldn’t see that it was Edward who was afraid to sleep – it was Edward who was terrified and that’s why he’d been out roaming the hall in the first place.

Roy sensed that it wasn’t just him who was wary of sleep. Homunculi were frightening things and just knowing that monsters really did exist was bad enough for him. However, in Ed’s case it had to be much worse. He’d told Roy that he was going to find the one they called master and destroy the stone and he must have but somehow also lost his best friend, his brother. What ever had happened must have been ten times more horrifying than what Roy had faced and his own experience was terrible enough.

Roy took a deep breath and let it out slowly as he pat the bed, “Since we are both fighting sleep I’ll take you up on that offer. I was only pretending to sleep for Hawkeye’s sake. As much as I appreciate what she’s doing for us, I’d really hate to see her make herself sick. Speaking of which, you might want to shut the door. That woman’s got some kind of twisted sense about her to know when something’s not like she left it or something’s going on or if I am up to something…” He paused and shivered, “Makes me wonder if she took lessons from my mother behind my back.”

Ed gave a wry smile. “I bet you were a terror.” He smirked and then went to the door. He closed it and then returned. There was a chair nearby but the General had pat the bed before Ed closed the door and honestly that sounded much more comfortable to him. His mind was awake, but that didn’t mean his body wasn’t exhausted and craving the softness and warmth of bed.

Pausing near the foot of the bed, as if contemplating whether or not to actually sit down, he felt a very strange twinge. He used to sleep near Al all the time when they were kids. And there were times during their travels that they would share a bed even though Alphonse was incapable of sleep. He’d crawl on in and then Ed would be able to rest, knowing that there was someone beside him and completely comforted because of it.

With a soft little nod, Ed circled around to the other side of the bed. It was a good sized bed, not enormous, but plenty large enough for the two of them. Hesitant to get under the covers even though it was getting a little chilly, he decided to sit, with his legs folded beneath him, so that he was facing Mustang. He wrapped his arms around his middle and sighed, “When I came in here earlier, you were snapping.”

In the dimly lit room, he was able to find Roy’s face and focus on his eye as he spoke, “It looked like you were trying to burn someone. It was the Fuhrer, wasn’t it,” he stated rather than asked. “Have you told anyone exactly what happened or are you shouldering it all by yourself?”

Roy felt any hint of mirth drain from his body and fall to a puddle on the floor to leak through the floorboards. He smirked, “If I tell my secret you have to spill yours, Ed. Equivalent exchange is an alchemist’s dogma, remember.”

He stared ahead blindly. His pulse raced even though he thought his heart had actually stopped. “I…” he could feel his eyes already beginning to wet with tears. He didn’t know that this situation could be chalked up to equivalent exchange. How could Edward’s horrible experience match or equal Roy’s experience and vice versa? To Edward, everything that happened below Central was almost too much to bear remembering and yet he couldn’t forget, not even a single detail, except the details of that last transmutation. It could not be measured in any way… how could this be equivalent?

Lifting his hands he covered his face. His mouth twisted into a grimace and his teeth ground together as he shielded himself. A sharp whimper caught in his throat and he took a deep breath.

Lowering his hands at last, his fingers, even the injured ones, clutched onto the bedding. “I’ll try. I promise that much.” His voice was shaken. He felt like a child before Mustang, felt like the same little boy who sobbed so heartily after a serial killer nearly killed him. He was terrified to tell Roy anything and terrified not to.

“That’ll do for now I suppose…” Roy replied but hesitated to give in and recount the details. He adjusted the blankets after pushing up in the bed so he could sit. It was a little more difficult than he’d expected, more painful at any rate and he seemed to just be looking for more ways to delay the inevitable by also taking his time with a long drink of water.

Finally he nodded, “It was him… Bradley. I suppose you’ll want as much detail as I would hope to get from you for your own… well…” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair and noted that in the morning he’d need a bath. His hair had that slightly dirty, oily feel that made him feel grimy and grungy. That feeling reminded him of the days he’d spent on the battle field in Ishbal.

“I sent Hawkeye to warn Bradley of my intentions while I infiltrated the house to draw him to the wine cellar. I’d gotten the blue prints of the house from the architect who’d built the place. Once Bradley was down there I sealed the door, locking us both in and confronted him with everything, Hughes, the wars we’d been fighting, what he really was… all of it. We fought. He really was a monster and he…” Roy trailed off for a moment remembering how Bradley spoke of his ultimate eye and seeing Roy’s alchemy at work thus he could interrupt the air flow so Roy couldn’t manipulate it to make a flame.

It took him a moment but he finally pulled himself back to the present and explained it, how it happened, to Edward in as much detail as he could stand. He even told him that the Fuhrer’s son had some how managed to get in through a hole he’d blown in the wall and as he recounted how the Fuhrer had killed his own son, he grit his teeth and clenched the bed sheets. He told Edward that he’d tried to catch Selim when Bradley had thrown him but it hadn’t mattered, the boy’s neck was already broken and his windpipe crushed. He was dead and after that, realizing or taking a desperate educated guess or gamble on the odds, he’d pulled what had turned out to be a skull from the boy’s bag and held it up. He explained that the Fuhrer couldn’t move and while he didn’t really understand it at the time or even now, it worked in his favor and he basically burned the creature to death, until there was nothing left.

“How I lost my eye,” He sighed, “It was when I was trying to carry Selim’s body from the house. I made it to the front porch. Archer… I don’t know what kind of strings he had to pull or if Bradley managed to find someone, but the half of his body that was missing was replaced with auto-mail. Anyway, he was there, don’t even know how or when…” He smiled looking at his clenched hands.

“He would have killed me had Hawkeye not been running up the drive. She shot him but not before he fired. I don’t remember anything after that, nothing but pain and falling… I think… I should be dead…”

That last bit was spoken barely above a whisper. He’d not really delved deep into the last conscious moment before waking in the hospital and he wondered now how it was possible that he still had a head when Archer had been that close and Roy had stared down the barrel of the gun. Unless… No, Riza was too good a shot and even if… Had Archer missed him and one of her shots passed through Archer and hit him? He stared at the sheets for a long moment unable to move past the question.

Finally he blinked and took a shuddered breath, deciding that even if that was the case he would never bring it up to her. She’d saved his life and he wouldn’t be here with Edward or her if she hadn’t taken Archer down.

“I woke up in the hospital after that.” He said finally.

Edward was quiet for a bit. He was feeling ill again and he found it necessary to put his legs over the edge of the bed and then lean so that his elbows rested on his knees. Taking several soothing breaths he swallowed bile. The man, the Fuhrer, had killed his own son. Even if it wasn’t his child by birth, it was still a child, and he’d strangled him and broken his neck. Ed thought back to when Lust had confessed to him how much she wanted to be human. Of all the Homunculi, she was unique in that endeavor. No one who could murder their own child could hope to be human.

But the death of young Selim wasn’t even what made him so ill. He’d been so wrapped up in his own goals, in finding Alphonse and destroying the one in charge of the vile creatures known as Homunculi, that he’d put the General in even greater danger.

“A homunculus is the result of a failed human transmutation. The only thing that brings down their defenses is a piece of the person that was originally transmuted. That skull… it must have been the skull of the original. That’s why it stunned him. That’s why you were able to kill him through it.” He said all of this looking away, speaking in a tight tone that sounded on the verge of breaking.

“I knew this information… and I knew what you were planning, you told me in the car… I should have said something…” he shook his head, “You figured it out on your own… faster than I even did… but I should have told you.”

Shifting, he turned back toward the man. “You said you feel like you should be dead... it’s the same for me, except… I was dead.” He uttered almost trembling. Letting out a breath he started from the beginning, explaining, firstly, about the underground city.

“There was a building with lights and music. Some kind of hall or music house. That’s where I saw Rose. She was dancing and wanted me to dance, too. The whole thing just sounds like a damn dream.” He briefly covered his conversation with Dante finally revealing the secrets of the Master of the Homunculi and then he told Roy something that he wasn’t sure the man would even believe.

“Dante sent me through the gate. She used a baby to open the portal and my body got trapped somewhere between this world and the other side, but my mind and soul… they were drawn to the body of the Edward beyond the gate.”

He was feeling sick again. Taking a few moments to explain to Mustang how the world on the other side of the gate was comprised of doubles to this world, his stomach tightened further and further. “I was only on the other side for a short while. There was an accident… one of the flying craft of that world came down on me… the body I was in died and my mind and soul went back through the gate until they reattached to my true body. And then I busted out of the damn place.” His brow was beading over in sweat.

He paused. To explain more, would mean explaining about his father and now that he had time to think about it, the fact that his father had jumped bodies to prolong his own life and used the philosopher’s stone to do it… what did that make Edward? Was his father even human after such acts and the transfer of bodies over and over again? In the end he decided that yes, his father was human because Alphonse was human. The body or vessel didn’t matter – the only thing that mattered was the mind and soul.

Frowning but feeling a little less sick, he told the General about his father and how he and Dante were lovers once upon a time and how Hohenheim said that he’d never loved before Trisha. Ed spoke with a little bit of spite in his words even though he did, finally, believe the man.

He also explained a little about Liore and how the philosopher’s stone had indeed been created and that the stone itself was part and parcel with Alphonse’s armor body. He then went on to describe Envy’s role in everything.

“I had him pinned and he kept changing his face to try to get a rise out of me. He even used your face at one point.” Ed grinned slightly at the memory, “I punched that face the hardest.” The grin faded away into nothing though as he described the horror at seeing the last face.

“It was the face of my brother. Not Alphonse. He… Envy was Hohenheim’s child with Dante and he became the first homunculus. I guess he didn’t like it when Dad got a new family because he made it his personal goal to kill me.” Ed frowned and then met Roy’s gaze. “And he did just that.” Shivering a little he continued, “He made his hand into a dagger like I used to do with my auto-mail. Then he punched it through my chest.” He took in a breath and held it.

“Alphonse saw the whole thing. I could hear him screaming and there was nothing I could do. I tried to blink, but I couldn’t; tried to breath but only blood came out… tried to think, even, but I was gone.” This bit was a whisper.

“He killed me,” he choked as tears finally broke free. “It was so fast that I didn’t even register the pain. All I could feel was afraid.”

As Roy listened many questions spurred in his mind, questions better left for another time but ones that needed discussion and answers. There was much he didn’t understand such as the gate, the transfer of souls to another body even though he knew a soul transmutation was how it was done it was the process that boggled him, and most of all this talk of what was on the other side and doubles of people. He also wanted to know more about this Envy person and even more about Hohenhiem and Dante. Especially where this Dante woman and the rest of her hoard had gone.

However, he didn’t dare ask them of Edward, not now, not when the kid was speaking of his own death. He could guess what had happened. Alphonse, his body being the Philosopher’s Stone had seen his brother’s demise and the taken action of self sacrifice. Roy himself would have done it. He would have done it for any of his men, for Hughes, for the Elric’s. It was only natural. He’d been trying to make a Philospher’s stone years ago to bring back those he’d killed and those who’d died in Ishbal. But Alphonse had been the only one to truly succeed a proper human transmutation as far as Roy was concerned.

Alphonse Elric, the brother with his soul attached to a suit of armor, the bearer of the Stone had not only brought his elder brother back to life, made him whole again, but also managed to keep Edward’s soul attached to his body, managed to keep Edward who he was. Edward Elric was intact in every way except for the loss in his heart, the loss of his little brother. Al was gone and had probably used all of the stone to bring Edward back thus losing himself. After that, even though it was conjecture on his part, Roy could guess what had gone though Ed’s mind and heart when he awoke.

The General reached for Edward on impulse and a tugging grief in his heart. He was once again prepared for resistance and prepared to fight it no matter how it hurt him. “Al used himself and the stone to bring you back because he couldn’t stand the thought of being alone without you in the world… Edward…” Roy wrapped Ed in his tight embrace as if letting him go would mean he might lose him to some fool’s errand.

“Edward,” He said again, “You tried to bring him back didn’t you. It would only be in your nature… I don’t know what happened… It would have been an endless cycle of you bringing him back and him in turn doing the same. I don’t think even the stone could compete with the love and stubbornness of you both. I’m not saying better you than him, I could never pick which one of you to save and would give up my life so that both of you could live together… I’m saying that perhaps once in this twisted world, something else stepped in…”

Roy’s hold on Edward tightened and he held the young man closer, petting his soft, blonde hair. He could smell the fresh scent of soap and shampoo and even felt prevailed to kiss the golden softness if only to pass along a sense of comfort and love, “You’re not alone, Ed… I know I have no right to ask, it’s completely selfish, but please don’t try. Losing one of you is hard enough, losing both of you…”

He couldn’t say anymore, he just wanted to keep what was left of the strange little group of men he had left, it was his family, Hawkeye and his subordinates, and Edward was part of it. Al had been too. They would do something special for Alphonse so his beautiful existence would not go unnoticed from the earth. He’d see to it.

He was lost in emotion and he felt his chest tighten to the point that he had to fight for breath even as he began to sob. When the man reached for him he almost pulled away but he was too embarrassed over everything to put forth the effort. He felt himself being drawn toward Mustang until he lay against the man’s chest in a manner similar to a child clinging to their parent after a bad dream. He was surprised when he felt the man kiss his hair, but somehow it seemed appropriate and even though he would’ve normally thrown a fit over something so awkwardly intimate, he let it pass.

Despite the pounding in his ears he was able to concentrate on the man’s words and he cringed and choked on deep shuddering sobs for the General was absolutely right, about all of it. The last thing he said however, made Edward break the rest of the way. His hands shook as he finally reached for Mustang’s night shirt, his fingers clutching it in desperation and need. He pressed his face into the man’s chest and continued to sob as he cursed whatever it might have been that stepped in and stopped the cycle.

Speaking wetly, chokingly, he tried to explain, “I d-don’t remember what happened after I t-tried to bring him back. It sh-should have worked. I did everything right… but he didn’t come back. My little brother. I couldn’t bring him back.”

For several minutes he lay there, clinging to this man who had taken him away from his home and made him a dog of the military. This man who’d always been there looking over him with a smirk or a sneer or a scowl and ever so rarely a nod of approval. It was strange, but, in this moment, Edward was forced to recognize that he needed this man more than anyone.

Still crying and trying to swallow his hiccupping sobs, he fussed and pulled back suddenly, escaping the man’s arms. “When I sleep… I can see it… I can see that final transmutation. I n-never fully remember it in the morning, but sometimes there’ll be a detail that stays with me… and it always involves blood.”

Taking a shuddering breath, he reached for the hem of his tank top and slowly lifted it. When it was free of his shoulders and head he tossed it aside and then crawled closer to Roy again.

“This is all I have left of him and I don’t even know how I got it.” He whispered and then shifted so that his back was facing the General. Nervously he reached for his hair which was a partially restrained mess at this point. Pulling it around to the front of his shoulder he went ahead and removed the small hair tie letting it drop down into the covers of the bed.

It was hard to see in the dim light from the bathroom light left on across the hall but Roy could make out the transmutation circle of a blood seal. Gingerly, he reached out and traced it with his forefinger. His pills, which he’d been fighting against were beginning to take root within him and he had to hide a yawn from the young alchemist.

Still, the mark was a curious thing. Was it there to keep Edward’s soul attached to his body or was there for another reason? Roy could only speculate and was thankful that it seemed to be tattooed or birthmark like so it wasn’t in danger of washing away. Keeping Edward’s back intact would be the most important thing from now on, just in case.

“It’s beautiful, Edward. He left you something to remember him by.” Roy said softly, hoping that that explanation would keep Edward from worrying or taking him down darker paths, at least for now. If he could get Edward to sleep a little, he could keep an eye on him a little before drug induced sleep overtook him and at least they wouldn’t be alone.

Roy pulled Edward back against him and lifted his face enough to wipe his cheeks, “It will come back in time, Ed. Don’t force it. For now just rest, that’s all you need to do. There’s nothing to worry about, nowhere you have to go, nothing that needs to be done, and no more monsters to fight. Besides, you’ve earned a good night’s sleep and I bet Alphonse would be upset if he were here now. I bet he’d tell you the same thing.”

He wanted to feel indignant to the man’s words, especially when he’d mentioned Alphonse. He wanted to snap back at him, to tell him that the mark wasn’t beautiful, to tell him that all it made Edward feel was shame for being alive… but he was too tired and there was just a small part of him that liked hearing the word ‘beautiful’, liked feeling that the blood seal wasn’t something to be ashamed of.

He made a motion to move away from the General figuring he’d lay nearby until the man fell asleep and then he’d wander back to his room or maybe he’d continue his hunt for alcohol, the task which he’d originally set out for before taking a strange detour into the General’s room – but even as he wiggled gingerly away from the man, he felt Mustang hold onto him tightly. It felt strange. Edward didn’t like being held like this, or at least he didn’t think he did. He couldn’t even really remember the last time he’d experienced something like this.

Emitting a resigned huff, he gave up trying to escape and merely shifted so that he could tug at the covers until he was wrapped in Roy’s bed sheets. Half lying on the man, his head resting on the General’s chest, he snuggled against the warmth. It took only minutes after he lay still, for sleep to find him as his body was thoroughly exhausted. He was vaguely aware of Roy’s heartbeat, and the feel of the man’s fingers becoming tangled in Edward’s loose hair. If he’d been even an ounce more awake he would have worried over how this sleeping arrangement would look come morning, but as it was he couldn’t deny that something about this felt right.

Instinctively, Edward slid a bare arm around the General and clutched to the man’s shirt. It was just as needful as when he’d clung to him earlier, but this time it was not as desperate.

Just before falling asleep he whispered, “Roy… don’t leave me.” It was barely audible and slurred from sleep, and after he’d muttered the last syllable he was gone.

“I won’t,” Roy promised as he felt Edward’s body relax. He waited a few moments fighting the grips of his own sleep just to be sure that the young alchemist was truly sleeping. When he heard the even breaths, he pulled the blankets up around them both and closed his eye.