Maybe it was possible to try with all your heart and love with every damned fiber of your being and still wind up crumbled in a proverbial ditch, bound by your own arms in some attempt to hold yourself together. Even though you know you're beyond repair.
He'd thought of such descriptions of heartbreak and agony to be mere dramatizations – a romantic idealization played for those in the world who needed the security blanket of knowing they weren't alone in their troubles. For lonely women with stars in their eyes to have some far-fetched idea of romance to entertain them.
There were a million things he could describe if he had to. The crushing, the agony, the desire to just rip what remained of his own heart out and stomp it into the ground…
All just pretty words printed out in his mind. There were only two words that could ever sum up the sheer force of what he'd just experienced.
Maes Hughes.
The only man who had the power to break him in ways war and genocide couldn't. He'd only trusted him not to.
It was for the best, right?
Maybe it wasn't fair. Hell, when was life ever fair? He smiled at how crude it was. Life wasn't fair. Wasn't fair now. Wasn't fair when he was with Maes. Wasn't ever going to be fair.
He'd been given more than he ever deserved. More than he ever thought he could have. He'd had that chance. It was selfish to ask for more. When life gives you something beyond anything else you could ever think to ask for, you'd be a fool not to take it, even though there's always some part of you asking how long it'll last. What's the catch?
This was it.
--
"I don't have any regrets."
--
Mary smiled wholeheartedly at the next group to walk through the door. A younger woman with a kind face and wavy brown hair smiled back. She waved her in and gestured to the small café area.
"Sit wherever you like, dear," she sat, patting the woman on the arm, "you just make yourself right at home."
"Thanks so much," the woman replied, her smile extended into a warm grin.
'Nice girl,' Mary thought to herself. It'd been a while since she'd seen an unfamiliar face around here. The locals all had their usuals – their seats, their coffee, their preferences, radio stations, drinks, way they had their eggs – and she knew every face and preference by heart. Once folks came in, they usually came right back with the same thing on their minds. She wondered where the woman was from. She got the notion she wasn't from around here. Thinking about it, she smiled. Was nice to see some different folks around here. At her age, it was getting harder to find a nice new experience. Especially in this small town.
She walked up to the woman, who'd taken a corner booth, and pulled out her notepad for the first time in what seemed like forever. She didn't need it by now, and the locals knew that, but she didn't want to give the young miss the wrong idea. She could imagine how awkward it must be for an out-of-towner to see a woman take her order like that. Might look a mite irresponsible.
"Hey there hun," she said, smiling once more as she set a menu in front of her, "can I get you something to drink?"
"I'll just have some tea, please. Unsweetened," the woman responded, returning her smile.
"I'll bring that right out for you. You take a good look at the menu, now. Don't be afraid to take your time," she gave the young woman another pat on the shoulder and retreated back into the kitchen.
She'd come in just in time. Pretty soon the small room would be just about filled up. Most of the locals had no issues sharing a table, but she hoped they wouldn't be any trouble for the young out-of-towner. She seemed nice enough, and she'd swear on her mother's grave that the locals would always behave themselves, but it was never a bad thing to be weary of trouble.
And trouble came later, or so she thought. She frowned at the new figure in the doorway. He was a tall, rather thin fellow, but the fit of his unusual black trenchcoat hinted at musculature. It wasn't the kind of thing she saw often, except for on the no-good youth of the neighboring town. Maybe she was being biased, but she didn't like the look of him. Shady kind of character, she thought. His hair was a mess, obscuring his face, and blacker than most she'd seen around here. She hoped he wasn't the shady type… They'd never had any real trouble around here, and she wasn't that desperate for excitement.
Her views changed when he looked up, and she caught a glimpse of his face. She couldn't describe what surged through her heart, but she was certainly done making judgments, and was angry with herself for doing so in the first place.
He had foreign eyes and a boyish face. It didn't really suit him, she thought. He had the eyes of someone who'd seen too much for a face that young. And he looked, well…Empty. His expression was broken and seemingly blank. She'd seen it dozens of times before. The face of someone who'd cried themselves out and given up on tears. His eyes, unusual though they were, still held the all-too-familiar red edges and glazed appearance. At the same time, they were so clear and expressive. If she had to put a word to the expression of a man she'd never seen – never even spoken to – she'd say he looked determined. Folks always said she could tell someone's life story by looking them in the eye, but she could tell right off that this young man's story, whatever it may have been, wasn't something she'd be apt to retelling. And the pain in those eyes, try though he might to hide it… Poor fellow.
Instead of her usual "Come on in" or "Sit wherever you like", what came out was, "Are you all right, hun?"
He blinked, not expecting the question, and clearly only half-aware of his surroundings.. After a moment, he answered.
"I will be."
Mary didn't know what it was about what he said that made her smile, but she did, and motioned him in.
"Well, come on in and get out of the rain, sug. Sit wherever you like. There ain't many spots left… Busy this evening. You'll have to share…" Thinking suddenly of the other out-of-towner, she gestured towards the corner where the woman still sat. "There's a nice woman over there who I'm sure'll be willing to accommodate you. She's been here a while, so she should be clearing out shortly." She gently ushered him in, showing him the coat rack and as he took her suggestion, most likely out of courtesy, she followed him over.
He spoke quickly to the woman, who smiled and nodded. She could tell they weren't going to have any issues.
"Can I get you something, hun?"
"Just coffee. Black," he responded quietly.
"All right. Lucky for you we just made a nice fresh pot. I'll be right out with that in a bit." She handed him his menu in case he decided to have a bite to eat and smiled again at the other woman. "You all set, hun?"
"Just a bit more tea, if you could."
"All righty. I'll get that right out for you." She jotted it down on her notepad and turned to the dark-haired man. "And you take your time and let me know if you need anything to eat, all right?" She smiled again and patted him on the arm. He flinched at the touch, and then gave her a very weak smile and nodded.
"Poor guy…" She murmured to herself as she made her way into the back. She wondered if he'd been in the war. A lot of the more somber folks had. She'd seen a similar look in her oldest son's eyes back when he came back from the fighting. She hadn't seen him since. It was his no-good father's fault, of course. Sending his only son off to join the State… She shook her head. She wondered about that boy. Didn't think of him too often. Left with his father after the divorce…
Looking back at the man in the corner, she got the notion that somehow, he and her son had seen the same horrors.
--
"Mind if I sit here?"
For how gruff his tone was, and how his appearance was no doubt less than flattering, the woman's reaction was unexpected. She smiled and nodded, gesturing to the seat across from her. In the very corner of the place. How fitting. He nodded his thanks and took a seat.
After the waitress – her tag read "Mary Mae", only sticking in his mind for the worst of reasons – took his order, he fell into a slump at the table.
The people here were too kind. It was nice, but kind of troubling at the same time. He felt like he needed to give in return. After all, something nice couldn't come without a price, right? That, and there was scarcely any need to accommodate someone like him.
He hoped the other woman wouldn't be around much longer. He didn't like troubling her. It had to be at least a little awkward. She seemed comfortable enough, though.
After Mary handed them their drinks – with that too-sincere, too-warm smile – he could only stare into the steaming mug and sigh.
"Awful weather, isn't it?"
He looked up. Of course. Trying to make casual conversation. A formality. And it was about the weather to boot.
"I hate the rain," he responded simply.
"It's not so bad for me, but it just seems so dreary out. I can't put my finger on it…" She trailed off, staring out the window. She looked back at him suddenly. "Are you all right?"
He shook his head. She frowned. Damn nosy, friendly woman…
"I will be, though."
She gave him a sympathetic smile and patted him on the hand. For some reason, he didn't jerk away like he had with Mary. Despite her overwhelming hospitality, something about the woman just didn't sit well with him, and he got the feeling he would have loved her on any other day.
She reminded him of Maes. This lady didn't.
"It seems like it's a lot more than the weather that's bothering you," she said. The way she said it wasn't at all nosy or presumptuous – rather, it was as though she were gently stating a fact. To the point. He didn't feel the urge to snort or think bitter thoughts as he normally would have. Something about her…
"I've had a really rough week," he responded simply. Another sympathetic smile.
"I don't know if it'll be any consolation, but I'm a little out of it, myself. I had some errands to run and had to leave my two boys back home. It's been a week and I'm worried sick about them. They're staying with a good family friend, but I haven't had the chance to call them up." She looked forlorn for a moment, once more staring out the window, at her ringed finger, and then back to him, offering a small smile and a shrug.
Great. Just another housewife. With a family and everything… The very thing he'd been broken for.
It was pointless to be bitter; he knew. After all, what was she but a caring mother and wife? She didn't know the reminder she carried. And yet… He still couldn't find it in himself to be particularly bothered.
"I'm sure they're fine," he offered simply. He was no good at this. He wasn't fluent in emotions.
"They probably are… Probably causing all sorts of trouble," she laughed softly, "But their father hasn't been around since the youngest was just starting to walk. It's so hard for them, growing up without a father and all."
He blinked. He thought this was getting a little deep for casual talk between strangers, especially with one as seemingly disinterested as himself. He tried to give her a sympathetic smile, despite his lack of desire to move at all. He was so bad at this… "I can imagine that'd be hard on you, too."
"Oh, it's awful. One day he said he was going to travel the country to study alchemy and he hasn't been back since… It's like an entire piece of me of still out there. He loves his family more than anything, yet he's never come home… I'm sorry, I bet this sounds strange, doesn't it? I guess it's been a while since I talked to anyone." She let out another soft laugh.
"Not at all. I'm sure this might sound strange, but, well… I guess I kind of know the feeling." Something about the woman's story stuck out in his memory. He didn't remember… Sounded like some military case he'd been involved in… He didn't remember, and at the moment, he didn't want to.
Her face told him she didn't doubt it. "Forgive me if this seems like a bit of a personal question, but I just… Well… Have you had someone leave you?"
His expression must have answered her question.
"I'm sorry," she said simply, patting his hand again. She looked like she really meant it. Of course she did. She missed someone who was everything to her and that was… well, not the same, not nearly, but similar, right? Not the same kind of pain, but every bit as agonizing. He remembered what it was like to be without his love for a few months. But years? With no contact whatsoever? He would die.
"It was a break-up, I guess you could say. They were interested in different things and, well… I guess that's that," he explained, not wanting the woman to be the only one putting her heart out on the table. It wasn't as though telling some random housewife was going to hurt him, right?
"I know this might seem a little presumptuous, but… well, you look like you could use someone to talk to. If you want to tell a stranger what's going on, I'd be more than happy to listen."
Had any of his friends, comrades, or even Maes himself offered, Roy would have been pissed. What was there to talk about?
He hated spilling his guts. Hated talking about his problems. Hated people thinking they knew everything about him. Hated drama, emotions, and counseling, period.
But somehow, coming from this woman, it seemed perfect. A total stranger. Someone who didn't know him, where he'd come from, or anything. Someone who couldn't judge. Someone who was going through something of her own. Misery loved company, right? And maybe he was trusting his instincts too much, but something told him that she wasn't going to be one to judge on the more… unique… aspects of their relationship. He could tell her everything, and his only worry would be that it'd be too much of an emotional overload. He hoped.
But he did tell her everything, or at least a good portion of it, in his usual blunt, factual manner. He worked his way up slowly, stopping a lot, warming her up to his story before things got heavy. He told her about their days at the academy. What it was like to fall in love with your best friend. What it did to you when you realized you had feelings for another guy. The separation, the war, their hopes and dreams… The promises Maes had made and the things they'd seen together. How much Maes was to him – his world. How he couldn't see a world without him. He left out most of the details of the war – she didn't need to hear that – but kept going up until earlier that day, when the love of his life had left him.
All the while, her mouth formed a bigger and bigger "o" shape. By the end of it, she looked horrified. He knew he'd made a mistake. What was he thinking, telling some housewife he was in a freaking homosexual relationship…
"Oh my gosh… I am so, so sorry."
It took him a moment to realize he wasn't, in fact, being judged. And he blinked.
"That's just… terrible… Losing someone like that. It sounds like you loved each other so much…" She shook her head.
"I suppose I should be grateful I had the chance to be with him. I don't think I even deserved him in the first place." Why was he telling her this…?
She shook her head. "I don't think he'd want you thinking like that."
"Of course he wouldn't. But what I am going to do about it? I've already gotten the most I'll ever get out of life. I'm glad for that much. He should go on and do what makes him happy." He ended this with a grunt, and took a swing of his coffee, wishing there were some place in this damn small town that had some form of liquor…
"Do you really believe that?" She asked.
He opened his mouth to confirm that yes, he did, and then closed it. Did he? Who knew anymore.
--
"Maes…" was all he could say, all he could choke out. He couldn't even cry.
"Someday, Roy, you're going to lead this country. I have more faith in you then you'll ever know." The man leaned in and kissed his forehead.
He could only shake his head. He didn't understand. All he wanted to do was scream at Maes not to leave him. To think things through… Something.
But something in him refused to fight. Refused to stand up against Maes and what he really wanted.
Did he love Maes enough to let him go?
"I promised I'd always be here for you. I will, Roy, I promise. I know it seems hard to believe right now, but I'll be there. We'll get through this."
Don'tgodon'tgodon'tgodon'tgo…
"There's a lot left for you in this world. Stay strong and move forward. Because I'm never going to be behind you, Roy."
Please…
Warm arms wrapped around him. Familiar scents overwhelmed him and his mind exploded into memory after memory of them together. Times they'd never share again.
"I'll always be right beside you."
--
"He says there's a lot left for me in this world," Roy mumbled to his coffee.
"He's right. And it sounds like he's doing everything to keep it that way…"
"He is. Exactly why I don't deserve him…"
The woman shook her head. "I don't think that's why he ended it."
Silence.
"I may have only just met you and heard about all of this, but there's one thing I know, and that's that none of this is your fault."
Slowly, he smiled. It felt strange. "I guess I know that. If it were, it'd be easier to blame myself than admit there are things beyond my control…" God, the things Maes would say if he'd heard that. The one and only time he admitted he wasn't at fault.
She smiled, too. "It always is. But we don't live in a perfect world, and things almost never work out the way we want them to. That's just part of life. Finding out where we need to go and coping with our losses along the way."
He sighed. "That's true. But how can I even begin to cope when I've lost him?"
"You haven't lost him at all. I'm not much of an expert on these things, but it seems to me like the only thing that's changed is he's now your best friend instead of your… boyfriend."
He shook his head. That sounded too damn simple… Did she have any idea what this felt like?
"What do you mean?" he asked, hating how stupid he was starting to sound.
"First off, if you don't mind… Could you tell me why it happened?"
--
"I'm sorry," Maes said for what must've been the dozenth time. Even he knew it was no good. Sorry wasn't going to mend Roy's heart.
"I want to have a family. A child. Settle down. More than… anything."
Roy found his voice again and cried out, jerking his hand out of Maes's grasp.
"You're still my world. I love you, Roy, and I always will. This kills me…"
"Maes…I…" He choked.
"It's not your fault, love. This is unfair to you. And to some extent, to me, too. I can't be with the love of my life."
"What the hell do I have?" Roy managed, barely speaking, his voice a mere tremor in his throat.
And for what may have been the last time, Roy's answer came when Maes's lips met his own. Gentle and firm.
The world didn't stop.
But for what may have been the last time, Roy lost himself to other man. He thought he had nothing more to give, but somehow, their last kiss had taken everything out of him in a way only Maes could.
"For starters, you have the loyalty of your subordinates. The best you could ask for. You have an incredible talent. You've got the experience, expertise, and wisdom of a man twice your age. You have determination and will. And…"
Their gazes locked, and citrine eyes spilled over. A single tear and a smile.
"You, Roy Mustang, have me to back you up. Always. I'm not going anywhere."
--
"Gosh…" Was all she could say. "Forgive me if this sounds insensitive, but I understand… Starting a family has been the best thing to ever happen to me. Someday, I hope you understand that feeling; I really do."
Yes, it was a little insensitive, telling him Maes's actions were fully justified and he should also just forget Maes and start a damn family. But somehow, he couldn't be angry. There were a lot of "somehows" today.
"I intend to understand… Someday. Because it's what he would want."
"Someday, I hope it's what you want."
He sighed. He did feel better. How that was possible, when all he did was talk to another person who acted like a damn therapist and thought they knew everything about him, he wasn't sure. But what were the chances? Running into some random place and finding someone who says just what you need to hear? Of course, he was still bitter, even more so when he began to realize how much of a mess he'd just started with some random woman. "Bitter" wasn't even in the realm of words capable of describing the crushing loss that still weighted him down. But better, at least.
"So, will you explain now?" He asked.
"Well, like I said, I'm not good with this, so sorry if I presume, but… It sounds to me like the two of you never really got the chance to be friends. Think of it this way. This is a whole new opportunity for you two. You have a chance to be best friends. You'll still have someone to laugh with, a shoulder to cry on, someone to talk to, hang out with… Sure, it'll never be that simple. You're not going to forget about having him as a lover. He's still every bit as much beside you as he was then, right? There's nothing better to have than a friend."
"And no one better as a friend than him…" Roy finished.
She smiled. "You've got the right idea."
He shook his head. "I still can't believe…"
"You've had a pretty long day. I think you should rest up for a while."
Roy sighed and rubbed his temples. "Couldn't have said it better myself."
Somehow, they drifted off of the subject. Both felt extremely awkward all of a sudden. They'd gone from two people leaning on each other back to two strangers who happened to share a table at a small café.
Mary eventually came back (rather late, Roy thought), and offered them a refill or a bite to eat. They both passed, and she smiled and took their empty cups.
That smile…
"Something wrong?"
"…."
"…Is something else wrong?"
Roy shrugged. "I don't know. Just the waitress kind of gets to me."
"Oh." She didn't press the issue.
Eventually, she stood up, and, smiling, offered Roy her hand. Roy, too, stood up, and shook it.
"It was… Interesting. Meeting you."
To say the least. Roy shrugged, thoroughly done talking about any of this. He just wanted to thank her and get home.
But "thanks" wouldn't cut it.
"Thank you," he said simply. "I can't say I've ever spilled my guts to someone I just met before. When we met, he spent weeks trying to talk to me, himself…" Roy chuckled, hoping the expression didn't sound as empty as it felt. "But I appreciate you lending an ear and saying what you did."
Her smile was overwhelming in the gloom of his experience. "It was nothing. It makes me so glad I could help out… Even if it wasn't much. Like I said, I'm not very good at these things." She laughed nervously. "But I'll be going home to my boys in just a few days. I hope you feel better by then, too."
He smirked. "So do I. And to think… We'll probably never even see each other again."
"You never know," she said.
Roy sighed. "I guess you really don't… Oh, by the way… What's your name?"
She laughed. "Might be more interesting if you don't know."
"I'd like to know. I may have spilled my guts to you as a stranger, but I don't want to stay one."
They walked up to the counter and paid for their drinks. Roy'd left a pretty big tip to make up for dripping on everything, so he wasn't worried about leaving a bad impression. Then again, a "rich" bastard was still a bastard, right? He did his best to smile at Mary on his way out. For some reason, she looked overjoyed. Overjoyed to see him leave? Or overjoyed to see him looking slightly less like a dead flower left out in the rain?
If she was as much like Maes as he thought, it was probably the latter.
"Trisha," she finally answered as the two of them stepped outside, "my name's Trisha."
"Roy Mustang," he said.
"Well, Roy, I guess this is goodbye," she said simply.
He sighed again. "Listen, if you ever need anything… From the military or… whatever… Just let me know."
"I will. Though the only thing I have to ask is this…" she paused for a moment. "My boys have seen some of the soldiers during the war, but for the most part, they're safe from that aspect of the world. When the time comes, though, I want them to know that there are things worth fighting for, and that what that means can be pretty horrific. Our friends, the Rockbells, were killed in the war. They're extremely talented alchemists, my boys, especially for being so young. Someday, they might make excellent soldiers. But I want you to try your best to make this country fit so that they can grow up in peace."
Roy flinched. He wasn't expecting that. Who did she say was killed in the war…? "I'll do my best, ma'am."
"Thank you so much… Sometimes I get the feeling they'll be the future of this country. Maybe even the ones running it," she laughed. "If the you guys ever wind up working together, make sure you don't let my oldest get the better of you… He can have quite the temper," she joked.
He smirked. "I'll keep that in mind."
And with that, the two eventually went their separate ways. They never did see each other again, but as Trisha had said, things work in unexpected ways. He doubted this experience would be the last he'd hear of her.
When Roy went to bed that night, the world still wasn't right. He was still torn apart, and still at a loss for where to go from here. But he knew, even if it wasn't for some time to come, he was going to be all right.
--
"Goodnight," Maes whispered to the sleeping man. He kissed him gently on the forehead before turning around to leave.
So Roy was okay… Well, not okay, but he wasn't, either. Neither of them probably ever would be completely okay. It was as simple and complicated as that.
He hadn't planned on checking on him, but he didn't know how he couldn't. He'd made a promise, right? If he walked in the door to a fist in his face, it'd be worth knowing Roy was with it enough to throw a punch.
Locking the door and slipping the spare key in his pocket, Hughes continued home. The rain had let up now, and by tomorrow it'd be dry and warm. And if not, well… He had an umbrella, right?
Thinking back to his sleeping best friend, Hughes realized with a chuckle that he also was one.
--
Mary frowned as she sorted through her mail. She'd never seen an envelope quite like this one before. Really fancy. With ribbon and paper cutouts. She shrugged. What the heck? Flipping it open, her face broke out in a smile.
--
She hadn't meant to eavesdrop on the two of them, but with how well the two strangers were talking… Well, she was curious. At first it was curiosity, but pretty soon, she was hanging on to every word of the broken-looking out-of-towner's story. Though it seemed strange at first, two men together and all, she immediately felt it tug at her heart. Poor man. Anyone would look like death after losing all that… She only wished she'd gotten the chance to see them together. They sounded like a perfect pair.
As their conversation went on, the man seemed to brighten. His eyes became clear and focused, with a burning determination. She could hardly believe something like this was happening… And in her café! Two strangers meeting by chance and having this kind of discussion… She was amazed. That young woman sure had a lot of spirit. Not too many people could talk sense like that into a man who'd been so lost.
As the two made their exit, she couldn't help but be sad she probably wouldn't be seeing them again. She was dying to know if things would ever be resolved for the poor man with the amazing story… But as she saw the difference in his expression, she could only be glad that what he said was true, and he was going to be all right.
--
Mary read the fancy invitation over and over. She couldn't believe it. Her son was getting married? Well, not so much her son, but all be damned, she wasn't gonna call the one he'd lived with his father, either.
He probably knew she couldn't come. Too far out – not enough time or money. This was probably the easiest way of letting her know. She was glad to be thought of, and felt bad she didn't often think nearly enough of the only son she hadn't raised. She decided she'd send him a long letter and tell him everything she should have told him a damn long time ago.
Married! She couldn't wait to tell everyone.
But then she noticed the corner of a stiffer paper sticking out. A photograph? She pulled it out and examined it.
Her heart rose into her throat. He'd grown into such a handsome young man! And his bride-to-be has absolutely gorgeous – even more so when she saw how simply happy they looked to be together. She could tell they had a wonderful future ahead of them. It was only a photo, but it spoke a world to her.
It spoke worlds more when she noticed a third figure off to the side, observing the two with a faint smile on his face. As she recognized the black haired man, she gasped and the photo fluttered to the floor.
There was no doubt about it. She never forgot a face.
Picking it back up, she held it out in front of her, and a smile slowly spread its way across her features.